Careful What You Wish For (26 page)

‘Yep.’ This was followed by a roar of laughter.

‘For God’s sake, she looked like a medieval soothsayer in that get-up.’

‘So what else did you get?’

‘Everything.’

‘Our audience is going to lap it up!’ Cindy said with a laugh. ‘Mr and Mrs Average in Altona will feel like their own lives are normal and successful in comparison.’

‘It will work for the show too,’ Ian said more seriously. ‘When they see the family the kid comes from, they’ll want to see her win.’

‘Did they all sign the form?’

‘You betcha!’ Cindy said gaily. ‘And not a murmur out of any of them.’

‘So we’re safe?’

‘Absolutely.’

* * *

Ruth ran back to her room, her face blazing with humiliation. The ‘At Home with Ruth Craze’ segment would make her family the laughing-stock of the country. She shuddered. The flea-ridden dog, her dad’s shed of mad inventions, her fat mum’s terrible dress sense – they’d caught it all on film! She looked around the room wildly. A wobbly feeling in her chest and tummy made her feel like she might be going to faint. But … she was on this roller-coaster now and there was only one way to stop it. She’d signed those bits of paper and, more importantly, her parents had signed other bits. The whole thing was going to happen!

Suddenly the phone rang. Ruth jumped and stood staring at it.
Once, twice, three times …
Ruth tentatively picked it up.

‘Yes?’ she said.

‘Hello.’ It was her mother’s voice. ‘Ruthie?’

‘Mum.’ The creeping tightness in her throat made it impossible to say much else.

All of a sudden she wished she was home and that none of this had happened.
Home
. She was actually longing for the familiar smell of it. She would like to be in her own little shoebox of a room watching the night sky outside, hearing those annoying, loud brothers prattling on in the next room.

‘Just ringing to make sure you’re okay.’

A rush of tears flooded Ruth’s eyes.

‘I’m okay,’ she said stiffly, feeling like she was choking. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘You don’t sound okay,’ her mother said.

‘Mum … I just –’ She stopped and tried again. ‘They’re going to …’

But just at that moment there was a sharp little knock at the door. Ruth let the phone fall and watched it bounce on the carpet. She could hear her mother’s voice calling through the phone.
Ruth! You still there?
Ruth’s mouth went dry. It would be Cindy; what would she say? There was another knock, and with a sinking heart Ruth said good bye to her mother and went to the door.

But it wasn’t Cindy. It was a pretty girl of about sixteen with curly blonde hair and green eyes. There was something familiar about her, but Ruth wasn’t sure what.

‘Hi there, I’m Bianca.’ The girl held out her hand. ‘I’m staying in the room across from you. Mind if I come in?’

Ruth stared at her in surprise.

‘Ruth,’ she said, taking the girl’s hand shyly. ‘Er, why do you want to … come in?’

To be honest, I noticed you spying on that party a few doors down. Then I saw you running back looking … upset, so …’ the girl shrugged and smiled. ‘Here I am.’

Ruth covered her mouth and flushed with embarrassment.

‘You saw me?’

‘Yep.’ The girl smiled again. ‘I thought we could swap sob stories.’

Ruth took in the nice jeans, the suede boots, the friendly, direct manner.

‘You have a sob story too?’ she asked.

‘Do I ever,’ the girl said with a breezy laugh. ‘My life is an absolute horror show.’

Why not?
thought Ruth. Talking to Bianca would be better than sitting on her own waiting for Cindy.

‘Okay.’ She held the door open and stepped aside.

‘Come in.’

‘Thanks,’ the girl said, walking in and going straight to the window. ‘Nice view,’ she murmured, looking out at the city, ‘but what good is it when your heart is breaking?’

‘Er … yeah, well. Would you like a drink?’ Ruth called from the fridge. ‘There’s Coke, juice or sparkling water.’

‘Juice if you have some, thanks.’

‘What flavour?’

‘Don’t care.’

Ruth handed over an orange juice and watched as Bianca settled herself into one of the easy chairs. Ruth sat on the bed and opened her own bottle of soft drink. She still felt all tangled up inside, but there was something really nice about the girl’s face.

‘Okay,’ she said with a smile, ‘you first.’

‘Well,’ Bianca said, ‘I’m staying here with my mother. And I just get so sick of her! I can predict every single thing that is going to come out of that woman’s mouth. Do you know what I mean?’

‘Yeah.’ Ruth nodded.

‘You just have to escape sometimes, right?’

‘Right.’

The girl laughed quietly and took a long slurp of her drink. ‘She’s such a snob!
Oh, that person can’t sit next to this one, and we can’t possibly have him there! And not that glassware. Blah blah.’

‘What does she do?’

‘Nothing except phone her friends most of the time,’ Bianca sighed dramatically, ‘but we’re here to organise my older sister’s wedding and you’d think it was World War Three! Every detail has to be so perfect!’

‘But maybe that’s what your sister wants?’ Ruth ventured.

Bianca frowned and looked thoughtful. ‘You might be right,’ she admitted, ‘but I wish they’d leave me out of it!’

‘What do they want you to do?’

‘They insist on dragging me along with them to dress fittings and menu tastings and shoe shops and the rest of it. And it is
soooooo
boring!’

‘Are you going to be a bridesmaid?’

Bianca nodded, then groaned loudly and dropped her head onto her knees.

‘You should see the horrible dress I have to wear!’

Ruth didn’t know what to say. She knew what it was like being dragged along to things that she wasn’t interested in. But being a bridesmaid had been a secret desire of hers for years. She often wished someone would ask
her
. Going around to different shops for fittings and shoes sounded like fun, but she didn’t know how to say that without sounding unsympathetic.

Bianca must have guessed what she was thinking, because she gave a rueful laugh. ‘Oh, I guess it’s not so bad. I’m just in the mood for griping!’

‘Oh.’ Ruth smiled.

‘Do you think it will ever rain?’ Bianca asked, looking at the grey sky outside.

‘Looks like it.’

‘Well, at least rain suits our mood, doesn’t it? I’m sixteen years old and I still have no say over my life.’ She took a hard look at Ruth. ‘How old are you?’

‘Nearly twelve.’

‘No way, I would have thought you were older!’

‘It’s because I’m tall.’

‘Still, you look … mature.’

‘Do I?’

‘Sure you do. I bet you’d get into MA movies.’

Ruth smiled and thought of her plan that morning to go see something fifteen-plus.

‘So, do you have a boyfriend?’ Bianca asked.

‘No. But … I have got brothers.’

‘Put you off, huh?’

‘You could say that.’

‘I saw you having a blub before.’

‘How embarrassing.’

‘Don’t worry. We all do it. What was yours about?’

Ruth took a deep breath. She’d momentarily forgotten about overhearing Cindy. Now it was her turn, but …
where to begin?

‘Well,’ Ruth said, breathing out, ‘my aunt …’

* * *

Ruth ended up telling Bianca all about Mary Ellen and being on telly and what she’d been doing that afternoon. She told her about the house and her mother’s silliness in agreeing for it to be on television. Bianca listened carefully but didn’t say anything for some time. Ruth thought she might have bored her.

‘Your family sounds totally cool,’ Bianca said softly after a while.

‘Believe me, they’re not,’ Ruth replied dryly.

‘But your mum doesn’t care about her house and she does art and … that’s cool.’

‘It’s not cool at all.’ Ruth pictured her mother wearing her ridiculous smock with dried mud all over it. ‘You should see the stuff she makes.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. Just …’

‘Hideous?’

‘Absolutely hideous.’

‘What kind of stuff?’

‘Just these weird little animal figures and funny bowls that you can’t even use for anything! Most of them have little squiggles on the sides for decoration. She calls herself a potter and she can’t even use the wheel properly!’

‘So why does she do it?’ Bianca asked, laughing at Ruth’s outrage.

‘Don’t ask me!’

Ruth began to laugh herself and it felt good, even if she was a little rusty.

‘And you have brothers! I would do anything for a brother,’ Bianca said dramatically. ‘Not another sister, thank you very much;
not
any kind of a sister, but a brother would be …
radical
.’

‘Only because you’ve never had one.’ Ruth smiled.

‘Bianca!’ a woman’s voice called. ‘Where are you?’

Bianca rolled her eyes.

‘The commander calls!’ she groaned as she stood and stretched.

‘Bianca, there is a taxi waiting for us downstairs!’

‘Okay, Mum.’ Bianca went to the door, opened it and peered out. ‘I’m in here.’

‘Oh.’ A woman’s face appeared around the door. ‘Hello,’ she said pleasantly to Ruth, ‘sorry to intrude.’

Bianca rolled her eyes again, but Ruth was thinking that the woman had a nice smile and that she and Bianca were very alike.

‘Have you heard her tragic life story yet, love?’ the woman asked with a laugh.

‘Shut up, Mum!’ Bianca pushed the door closed on her. ‘Give me two minutes, please.’

‘Okay.’ Bianca’s mother shut the door. ‘See you downstairs,’ she called.

Ruth and Bianca looked at each other.

‘Hope the wedding turns out nice,’ Ruth said awkwardly.

‘It better or there will be blood in the streets!’

‘Will you have your friends there?’

‘No way,’ Bianca laughed.

‘Why not?’

‘Don’t have any.’

‘Really?’ Ruth was sceptical.

‘No one I could bring to the wedding.’

‘But you’re so …
nice
,’ Ruth said weakly.

‘Everyone at school thinks I’m a freak because I refuse to be on Facebook and don’t squeal about fashion and
cute guys
and worry about my thighs.’

Ruth nodded.

‘It’s been good talking to you, Ruth.’

‘You too,’ Ruth said shyly, then looked at her watch. Cindy would be coming to get her in five minutes.

‘So you’ll be on telly tonight.’

‘I guess. What do
you
think … I should do?’ Ruth asked desperately.

Bianca shrugged. ‘What do you want?’ she said eventually.

‘That’s it!’ Ruth wailed. ‘I don’t know what I want.’

‘So you go for a walk and … wait.’

‘Wait for
what
?’

‘Your heart … to tell you.’

‘A
walk
?’

‘That’s what I do when I’m all churned up inside and don’t know what to do.’ Bianca smiled. ‘But I have to go now. The lace and chiffon are calling. Bye, Ruth.’

‘Bye.’

Then she was gone.

* * *

Just go for a walk.

Ruth ran for the lift and stood there pressing the button frantically until it came. In the distance, she could see Cindy coming out of her door and waving goodbye to someone down the other end of the corridor.

‘Oh, Ruth, it’s time for dinner!’

Ruth’s heart began to beat hard.
Spotted!
Cindy was now walking towards her.

The lift doors opened and Ruth stepped in and pressed the button.

‘Ruth, honey!’ Cindy called sharply.

‘
Don’t call me honey
,’ Ruth whispered under her breath.

‘Ruth!’

But the lift doors slid shut and Ruth didn’t hear any more.

The lift hit the ground floor with a soft thud. Ruth rushed through the big plush lobby where people were sitting around in fancy clothes chatting over drinks, and almost threw herself at the glass doors leading out into the street. They slid open silently and at last she was outside. The cold air greeted her like a sharp smack in the face.
That felt better
. She stood at the top of the steps, breathing it in greedily. People were coming and going in groups and couples.

By this time next week they’d all know about where she lived. Ruth shuddered. All those stupid things she’d said in the interview! If only she could take it all back. The mouldy bathroom, the decrepit dog, her father’s bizarre shed and her mother’s terrible scones!