Eva's Holiday (4 page)

Chapter Nine

A
t one o’clock there was a knock on the door.

For one small second, I allowed myself to hope that it might be Cathy and Lily. Maybe they wanted to tell me they’d only been joking when they’d said those mean things about Kate, and that they really wanted to be friends with me.

But my small hope faded as Joey raced over to answer the door. Seconds later, Kate came into the room. She was still wearing the boys’ tracksuit and runners, but her hair was neatly combed, and her face was red and shiny, like she’d just finished washing it.

She looked embarrassed as she held a bunch of battered wild flowers towards Mum.

‘I brought you these,’ she said.

Mum took them and held them to her nose.

‘Thank you very– eeeeek,’ she screeched, dropping the flowers to the floor.

Now Kate looked even more embarrassed.

Joey ran over to investigate.

‘Cool!’ he said. ‘It’s an earwig. But I don’t think Paula likes earwigs all that much.’

I giggled. Mum’s absolutely terrified of earwigs. Dad stepped forward with a rolled-up newspaper.

‘Where is it?’ he asked. ‘I’ll finish it off.’

‘No!’ said Kate loudly, and we all stared at her.

‘No,’ she said more softly. ‘Don’t kill it. I’ll catch it and take it outside.’

Before anyone could argue, Kate had scooped up the tiny creature and put it gently on the grass beside the front door.

Mum recovered herself.

‘Sorry, Kate,’ she said. ‘They’re really lovely flowers, and it was kind of you to bring them. Pick them up please Joey, and put them …… put them in a vase in the other room.’

Joey did what he was told, and then we all sat down for our lunch.

Dad served up the food, and we started to eat. Apart from the scraping of our knives and forks, there was a long awkward silence around the table.

Even Joey was unusually quiet.

‘Do you like school, Kate?’ asked Mum after a while.

What kind of a question was that?

Better than any I could think of.

Kate’s mouth was full of food, and she chewed frantically before she could answer. ‘Not really,’ she said, and then there was another long silence.

Mum and Dad kept trying to break the silence, but after a few sentences, the conversation always came to a sudden halt. It was turning
into the longest lunch of my life.

Then Joey managed to liven things up.

‘Who do you live with?’ he asked Kate.

I stopped eating so I could listen carefully. I really wanted to know the answer to that question. Kate didn’t talk a whole lot, and she
never
talked about her family. And any time I asked her a question she avoided it or
half-answered
it with a single word. Now, with Mum and Dad listening, what was she going to say?

‘I live with my granny,’ she said after a while.

‘Your granny?’ repeated Mum.

Kate was going red.

‘Yes, but I call her Martha.’

‘Why do you call her that?’ asked Joey.

Kate giggled.

‘Because it’s her name.’

Everyone laughed then, except for Joey who hates it when he thinks people are laughing at him.

‘So where are your mum and dad?’ he said
crossly. ‘Why don’t you live with
them
?’

‘Joey!’ said Mum, but she didn’t say any more. I figured she was as curious as I was.

‘I don’t remember my mum,’ began Kate. ‘She went away when I was very small.’

‘Where did she go?’ asked Joey.

Kate shrugged.

‘Dublin, I think. No one really knows for sure.’

‘And did she come back?’ asked Joey.

Kate shook her head.

Mum patted her arm.

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

Kate shrugged again.

‘That’s OK. Martha says my mum wasn’t cut out to be a mother, and that I’m probably better off without her.’

I tried to get my head around what she was saying. My mum can be a total pain sometimes, but I couldn’t imagine what life would be like if she just packed up and walked away.

‘That’s awful,’ I said in the end.

Kate spoke as if she couldn’t get the words out fast enough.

‘It didn’t matter so much, not having Mum around, because I had Dad – and we were very happy. Dad was really fun. We did loads of things together. We went on long walks all over the place. He taught me all about plants and birds and stuff. He showed me where to find the best wild strawberries and mushrooms. He used to pack picnics, and we’d go off for the whole day, just the two of us. We had this special place where no one else went. We called it the Island of Dreams. There was a big tree there. Sometimes I used to climb right to the top. Sometimes we’d bring a rug and we’d sit in the shade of the tree for hours, and Dad used to make up these wild stories about pirates and highwaymen and stuff.’

By now everyone had stopped eating. Joey was actually holding a forkful of food in the air,
but was too spellbound to put it into his mouth.

OK, so maybe sitting under a tree, with my dad telling fairy stories wasn’t my idea of a fun day out, but the way Kate told it, it seemed like something magical.

Kate went on talking, almost like it was a dream, and she was still part of it.

‘Sometimes, during the holidays, whole days went by, and we didn’t see anyone else. Sometimes we even camped up in the Island of Dreams. We used to put up this tiny tent, and we’d lie there with the tent-flaps open, so we could watch the stars. Dad knew all about the stars – he knew the names of loads of them. In the morning we’d watch the sun come up, and it was just like magic, watching the start of a whole new day. And when we got home, Martha would pretend to be cross, but she wasn’t really. And she’d sit us up at the big kitchen table and she’d make us pancakes, and then the next day we’d do it all over again.’

Kate stopped talking, and there was another silence.

Then Joey asked the question I hadn’t been brave enough for.

‘Then what happened?’

The dreamy look vanished from Kate’s face, like someone had pressed the ‘erase’ button.

‘Then something terrible happened,’ she said.

‘What?’ persisted Joey.

It was ages before Kate answered, and when she did so, it was in a voice so soft that we all had to lean forward so we could hear her properly. Joey’s forkful of food was nearly touching his nose, but he didn’t seem to notice.

‘You see…’ began Kate.

She stopped, looked around the table at all of us, and then started again in an even quieter voice – almost a whisper.

‘My dad died,’ she said.

I gasped.

Mum and Dad looked at each other.

Joey grinned. ‘Cool,’ he said. ‘How did that happen?’

I kicked him under the table, and Dad said ‘Joey,’ in a real fierce voice, but Kate just shrugged. ‘It’s OK,’ she said. ‘I don’t mind. I’m used to it by now.’

Then in the same soft, whispery voice, she finished her story.

‘It was a lovely sunny day, the kind of day you never want to end. Dad and I had been to the Island of Dreams, and we were on our way home. Dad was carrying the rug, and I was carrying the picnic basket. I always carried the basket on the way home, because it was lighter then. Dad used to tease me about that. And when we got to the junction at the top of the hill, there was this injured bird, right in the middle of the road. It was flapping its wings madly, but no matter how hard it flapped, it couldn’t fly away. And Dad loved all creatures, especially birds, and he could never ever just
leave it alone to die. So he stepped out to try to help it, but he didn’t see the truck that was coming around the corner. He………….’ Kate stopped talking, but even Joey was smart enough to figure out what happened next.

There was a very long silence.

I looked desperately at Mum and Dad. They were the grown-ups, and they should know what to say next. For once in her life, though, Mum was speechless. She just patted Kate’s hand. I could see by Kate’s face that this made her feel uncomfortable, and that she was resisting the urge to pull her hand away.

I felt sorry for Kate.

I felt sorry for Mum.

I felt sorry for all of us.

At last, Dad cleared his throat, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Then he spoke in a strange, bright voice.

‘Now then,’ he said. ‘Who’s ready for more pasta?’

Chapter Ten

A
fter lunch, I started to clear off the table, but Mum pushed me away.

‘I’ll do that,’ she said. ‘You and Kate go off outside.’

Usually I’m happy when I don’t have to help out with jobs, but right then, clearing the table seemed a lot easier than trying to think of something to say to Kate.

Kate and I went outside and sat on the wall beside our house. It was a lovely sunny day. But even that made me feel bad. Did every sunny day remind Kate of the day her dad died?

‘Er … I’m really sorry about … you know … what happened to your dad,’ I said in the end.

‘That’s OK,’ she said. ‘It was ages ago. Like I said to Joey – I’m used to it now.’

I didn’t answer. How could
anyone
get used to something like that? I get mad with my dad sometimes, but never so mad that I’d like to see him walk out in front of a huge truck.

After ages, Kate spoke again. ‘You and me, we’re friends now, right?’

At first I didn’t answer. My friends were the kind of girls who wore cool clothes, and talked about music and films and stuff, not strange, wild girls with short hair and boys’ clothes, who talked about stars and butterflies and mushrooms.

But how could I say that to Kate?

Especially now?

So I shrugged and said. ‘Sure. We’re friends.’

I was embarrassed at how happy Kate was when I said this. It was almost like I’d given her a present.

She smiled at me, and I had a horrible feeling
that I’d never seen her smile before. She looked almost pretty when she smiled – with perfect white teeth, and sparkly eyes. I thought about telling her that she should smile more often, but I stopped myself. After her sad life, she probably only allowed herself one or two smiles a year.

‘Since we’re friends,’ she said. ‘Do you want me to show you the Island of Dreams?’

‘Show me what?’ I asked, pretending not to understand.

‘The Island of Dreams. The special place I used to go to with my dad.’

I gulped.

I
so
didn’t want to go there.

How creepy was it to be hanging out in a place that reminded my poor, weird friend of her dead father?

But how could I possibly say no?

It wasn’t far – just about ten minutes walk from
our house. It seemed like a long way though, because for the last few hundred metres, Kate insisted on walking behind me with her hands over my eyes. I felt a bit dizzy, and once I scraped my leg on a wall, but I couldn’t complain. Now that I knew about Kate’s mum and dad, how could I give her a hard time over anything?

As we got closer though, I began to get a bit excited. The Island of Dreams sounded totally cool – like a place from a fantasy story.

And when Kate said, ‘I’m so happy to be bringing you here. At last you’ll be able to meet Jeremy,’ I got very, very excited.

Who was Jeremy, and why hadn’t Kate mentioned him before?

I began to picture a totally cool boy, with tanned skin and sun-bleached hair. Maybe he’d have an amazing Californian or Australian accent.

This could be the start of the perfect holiday.

At last we were there.

Kate took her hands from my eyes with a big flourish.

‘Ta da!’ she said, as if I was going to open my eyes and see something like the fairy castle in Disneyland or a shopping centre full of all my favourite shops.

I opened my eyes, and rubbed them until I could see properly. Then I rubbed them again, just in case I was missing something.

We were standing in a field – a plain old field just like hundreds of others all around us.

‘Well?’ said Kate. ‘What do you think?’

What I thought was that maybe this whole thing was a big joke, but I didn’t like to say this – just in case.

‘Er …,’ I began.

Kate grinned. ‘I know. You’re speechless. That’s OK. I know how you feel.’

I smiled weakly.

‘Look around you,’ commanded Kate.

I did as she said.

‘What do you see?’

Nothing?

‘Well?’ she asked.

‘This isn’t an island,’ I said in the end.

Kate shrugged.

‘I know it’s not a
real
island, but Dad used to say that to us it was as good as an island. Once we were here, the rest of the world seemed very far away.’

‘The rest of the world’ – that reminded me.

‘Where’s Jeremy?’ I asked.

‘Right over there,’ she said, pointing.

I looked but couldn’t see anyone.

Was he hiding behind the tree?

I walked around the tree but there was
no-one
there. Then I looked up into the branches, not sure I wanted to see anyone up there.

The cool, blond boy of my imagination was
starting to turn into a hunched wild thing with dirty, matted hair, who could only communicate with grunts and gestures.

‘I don’t see him,’ I said in the end.

Kate laughed.

‘You’re looking right at him,’ she said.

Now I felt cross. Clearly there was no one there. What kind of stupid game did she think she was playing?

Surely she was too old to have an imaginary friend?

‘Jeremy is the tree,’ she said.

I’d have laughed if I hadn’t been so shocked.

I’m just a normal girl.

This shouldn’t be happening to me.

What had gone so wrong in my life that I was hanging around with a mad girl who gave boys’ names to trees?

Kate seemed to be waiting for some kind of response from me.

‘Er … why do you call the tree Jeremy?’ I said
in the end.

Kate looked concerned.

‘What’s wrong? Don’t you think Jeremy is a good name? You and I could think of a new one if you like. What about Walter …or … Harry?’

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

Kate put her head in her hands.

‘I shouldn’t have told you about Jeremy,’ she said. ‘Now you think I’m an idiot.’

I couldn’t deny this, so I said nothing.

‘I know it’s crazy calling trees names,’ she said. ‘Dad did it when I was small, to make me laugh. And it kind of became a habit. And now I’m used to it, so I just keep doing it. You don’t mind, do you?’

I couldn’t answer her, so she continued.

‘I bet you did stuff like that when you were small. I bet you gave names to things that really shouldn’t have names.’

I suddenly thought of Billy Blankie, the scrap of blue fleece that I couldn’t sleep without until
I was about seven.

Kate stared at me, almost like she could read my mind.

‘So you don’t think I’m an idiot?’ she asked.

I pushed away the picture of Billy Blankie, who was still buried at the bottom of a drawer in my bedroom at home.

‘Maybe it’s just me,’ I said, avoiding her question. ‘But I’m really not comfortable calling trees by names. I’ll just keep calling it a tree, if that’s OK by you.’

Kate patted the tree trunk.

‘That’s no problem. I’m sure Jeremy won’t mind – since you’re my friend.’

I wondered if she was joking, but her serious face gave me no clue.

‘Jeremy really is special, you know,’ she said.

‘How?’ I said, wondering what kind of mad thing she was going to come up with next.

‘Can he talk, or dance or juggle lemons while singing the national anthem?’

Kate ignored my sarcastic tone.

‘He’s the only big tree for miles around. Trees don’t grow very well up here – it’s too windy, but Jeremy survived. He’s been here for more than a hundred years – it’s like magic.’

I looked around me, and realised that she was right. All the other trees I could see were scrawny, and bent over like they were cowering in front of the wind.

‘Let’s climb Jeremy,’ said Kate suddenly.

I giggled, suddenly seeing the funny side of this bizarre conversation.

‘Only if you think it won’t hurt him.’ Kate laughed too, and before I could say another word, she was clinging on to the first branch like a monkey.

I like climbing trees, so I followed her, and soon we were both balancing on a broad branch halfway up the very tall tree. Kate moved to one side.

‘Here,’ she said. ‘You can have the best place
since it’s your first time here.’

I edged past her, and leaned against the trunk of the tree. A soft breeze was rustling the leaves, and in the distance I could see the sea, sparkling like someone had sprinkled body glitter all over it.

I closed my eyes. The tree was swaying ever so slightly, and the rustling leaves were calming – almost like a lullaby.

When I opened my eyes again, Kate had stretched herself along a flat part of the branch, and was gazing out to sea. All at once, I felt like maybe she was right. There
was
something magical about this place.

I patted the branch I was sitting on. ‘You’re OK, Jeremy,’ I said, and Kate gave a small smile.

After a while Kate stirred. ‘Race you to the big hedge at the far side of that field,’ she said, pointing. Then she scrambled down the tree and began to run. I climbed down after her, and raced through the long grass, laughing as I ran.
We pushed our way through two small hedges, crossed a field and then galloped up a steep hill.

We reached the big hedge together, and threw ourselves down on to the grass, too breathless to talk. Even though I’m
much
too old for that kind of stuff, it was totally the most fun thing I’d done in ages.