Cassie (8 page)

‘Hi guys,' she said in a desperately cheery voice. ‘Have a good day?'

‘Hey, Holly,' said Fern, polishing a dinner plate. ‘Excellent, thank you. We had a picnic, then painted the town red. How about you? How was work?'

‘Boring.'

‘Shame you couldn't have joined us. We had fun, didn't we, kiddo?'

Cassie gave a huge smile. Holly looked at her properly for the first time. She had masses of dark hair in ringlets that fell to her shoulders. Holly would have given her right arm to have hair like that. The things she could do with it! It was Cassie's face that kept her attention, though. Her grin showed large, white teeth, but the smile was so much more than that. Holly had always thought that the idea of expressions lighting up a face was simply poetic license. Now she understood that a smile was more than a twisting of lips and a flashing of teeth. Every part of Cassie smiled. And her eyes! They were so large, so deep a shade of brown. Looking into them, Holly suddenly got the strangest feeling. It was like she could see herself from Cassie's perspective, as if she was deep down in the girl's body, looking out. And what she saw was sad. She almost had to force herself to break eye contact. When she looked back, the eyes were still remarkable in their depth and the expression that flooded them. But the moment had passed.

‘That's great,' she said. ‘Maybe next time.'

‘Would you like some food?' asked Fern. ‘A little speciality of mine. Spaghetti carbonara. Your mother had it without the bacon, of course, but Cass and I are confirmed carnivores. We kept you a plate of the non-vego version.'

Holly was tempted. The burger had been thin and tasteless and now she was hungry again. But she'd already told her mother that she'd eaten. Trust her luck to lose out when a decent home-cooked meal made a guest appearance. It wasn't fair. Not much was fair, anymore.

‘No thanks, Aunty Fern. I've already eaten.' Then Holly got a brainwave. ‘I could take it to school tomorrow, though, for lunch. If that's okay.'

‘Excellent idea,' said Ivy.

Holly helped herself to a glass of milk from the fridge. She thought she'd wait a couple of minutes before she excused herself for bed. Fern put away the last plate and draped the tea towel over the oven handle.

‘Oh, while you're there, Holly, could you get a glass for Cass, please? She drinks so much of the stuff I'm thinking of investing in a cow.'

‘Sure.' Holly looked around. Did Cassie have a special cup? She couldn't see one and Fern had asked for a glass, so she filled up a tumbler like her own and put it on the table. ‘There you go,' she said.

‘Could you help her drink it? Just hold the glass up to her mouth and, trust me, she'll do the rest.'

There wasn't much choice. Holly drew up a chair and put her own glass on the table. She lifted Cassie's milk and brought the rim to her mouth. This was so strange. So intimate. Holly felt uncomfortable, particularly since their faces were so close. Holly smiled and hoped that she didn't look as strange as she felt.

‘Hi, Cassie,' she said. ‘I'm Holly. I'm not sure if we've been formally introduced yet.' Then she felt bad. Of course Cassie knew who she was. And what was she expecting in response? ‘Wassup, Hol? I'm Cass.'? She felt her cheeks flood with colour. And she knew that Cassie couldn't possibly miss it. The thought made her blush even more. Cassie smiled, a thin trail of milk spilling from the side of her mouth. What should she do now? Mop it? Like cleaning up after a baby.

‘Look, guys,' said Holly. ‘I've got homework to finish and I'm getting a headache. If you don't mind, I think I'll go to my bedroom.' She put the half empty glass of milk back on the table.

‘Sure,' said Ivy. ‘I'll come in to say goodnight in half an hour.'

‘Hold Cassie's hand,' said Fern.

‘I'm sorry?'

‘Hold her hand. Here.' Fern took Holly's hand and placed it into Cassie's gnarled fingers. ‘Now close your eyes.'

All Holly wanted was to get her hand back and escape into the welcome isolation of her unfamiliar bedroom. But she couldn't. She'd been rude already. So she did as she was told.

‘Cassie was born with a caul, Holly.' Fern's voice came from her left. ‘Do you know what a caul is?'

Holly shook her head.

‘It happens sometimes in birth. When the baby comes out it looks like it's wearing a thin veil of skin over its face. It's not a problem, or anything. But the presence of a caul has been associated with strange abilities. Call me mad, but Cassie has healing powers. I'm not kidding. Hold her hand and the headache will go away. Better than paracetamol, aren't you, kiddo?'

Holly wanted to laugh
and
call her mad, but she restrained herself. How long would this take? When could she reasonably remove her hand? She was starting to get pins and needles and her head felt light and airy, like she was about to pass out. Thirty seconds passed and then she pulled away.

‘Hey, thanks,' she said. ‘But I'd best be going. This homework is a real bummer and it's due first thing in the morning. Goodnight. Goodnight, everyone.'

Holly took off down the corridor. She nearly opened the door to her old bedroom before she remembered. Only when she was in her shoe box, did she allow herself to relax. She leaned back against the door and let out a very long sigh.

Cassie

I must learn everything again. A new school, teachers who will
look at me and see only surface. Other people think surface is. But
I am buried, fold within fold, and only those who look can see me.
I have been here before.

I am good at learning.

I will be born afresh in this place.

And down here, where I live, I can keep those I've left. I can
keep Dad. I am strong.

Holly has a kind and soft centre, but she is more scared than
me. I will help her.

If she lets me.

Holly

My name is Holly Holley and I am a chicken.

Mum knocks on the door and opens it without waiting for an answer. I am in bed with an exercise book open on my lap.

It isn't a lie that I have homework to do.

Telling them I was going to do it is the lie.

I expect her to be angry. I'm prepared for her to be angry. I have my own anger pumped up and ready for battle. But she sits on the edge of the bed and runs a hand through her hair.

‘How's the homework going?' she asks.

‘Not well,' I reply. These are support-act words, the appetiser. I wait for the main course.

‘Chicken,' she says. ‘I know this is difficult for you. You've been thrown out of your own room, you've missed that sleepover. I know it was important to you and I'm sorry. And now there's Cassie. It's not easy.'

I don't say anything. There's nothing I disagree with.

‘But …' There's always a ‘but'. Parents are programmed to say it. ‘But I think you need to make more of an effort. You can't go on ignoring them …'

‘I haven't ignored them.'

‘You've avoided them.'

That's closer to the truth, so I let it pass.

‘I'm not having a go, sweetie. Seriously. I understand. And maybe it's okay to avoid them for a bit. But there will come a time when your avoidance will hurt their feelings. And they don't deserve that. Remember, chicken, there is a kid in there – a smart kid, a sensitive kid …'

‘Mum, I know.'

‘And she's having a bad time. It's not easy going through a split, particularly when there doesn't seem to be any good reason for it.'

‘What do you mean?' I immediately regret asking. The last thing in the world I want to hear is sordid details. But it's too late to take the words back.

‘Oh, it's just that James – Cassie's dad …' Mum smiled. ‘My sis is a pretty strong character and she has a good turn of phrase. The way she puts it, he wanted the “front seat”. And he can't have it. Because that's Cassie's and it always will be. Do you understand?'

I do, sort of. And it is kind of boring. Maybe sordid details would be better. Anyway, I need to steer the conversation away from stuff like this.

‘Listen, Mum,' I say. ‘I'm not being rude You know I work Sundays and Amy and I arranged to go out after my shift ages ago. It'll be okay. But I can't drop work just because they're here, can I?'

‘No one's asked you to do that.'

‘Okay, then.'

Mum leans forward and gives me a hug. It crushes the exercise book in my lap, but that doesn't matter. There is nothing written in it anyway.

‘We're ringing your school tomorrow to see if Cassie can get a place,' she says. ‘That's all right, isn't it? I mean, you wouldn't feel … I don't know. Strange?'

‘Why should I?'

‘No reason at all. Just thought I'd keep you in the loop.'

‘Sure.'

Mum stands to leave. She has the door half-opened when she turns back.

‘How's your headache?' she asks.

I haven't thought about it. Now, when I do, there is nothing there.

‘The headache is gone,' I say.

‘Maybe Cass really is a miracle worker,' she says.

‘Maybe it's the power of suggestion.'

4

Cassie

For them, I am an empty space. My head twists. My arms move.
Sounds surge in my throat. I cannot control them. How can I be
invisible? Mum has anger written loudly across her face. It is in
large print.

Fern

‘Why do you think it would be better for Cassie to come here, rather than a special school?' said Mr Wilson, the Principal.

Fern sighed and looked around the table. Other than herself and Cass, there were five people present. And apparently there was another one who was late, but on his way. She'd forgotten their names instantly. This wasn't an enrolment meeting, she thought. This was a judge and jury.