Now You See Me (16 page)

Looking at him now, though, you'd think that was someone else entirely.

I want to hug him. Tell him I'm happy he's here, even just for half an hour. But Dad's sitting there so stiff and tense I lose heart. We don't seem to do the touching thing any more. Another thing that disappeared with Mum.

“I see Danny's on good form.”

Dad nods towards the front door, where Danny stands with his mother, greeting people as they arrive. I watch for a while. Some hold him at arm's-length, examining him like a painting in an exhibition, or slapping him on the back and exclaiming how much he's grown. Others are sneakier, doing the standard hugs and handshakes and pecks on the cheek, but all the while eyeing Danny furtively, soaking in every detail of what has changed.

One or two actually finger his hair, like they can't quite believe he's real. It's as if they're compelled to reach out and touch him, like pinching yourself to check you're not dreaming.

Danny's shaking hands, smiling and letting people hug him, but I can tell he's uncomfortable by the way he's shifting from one leg to the other. Like he's itching to get away.

“He certainly looks well,” Dad says.

“Amazing.”

I mean it. Dressed in a pair of beige chinos and a long-sleeved shirt he once wouldn't have been seen dead in, Danny looks really grown-up. If it wasn't for the baseball cap, you'd think he was way older than sixteen.

“Daniel!”

A smartly-dressed woman around Martha's age walks up, taking both his hands, then steps back and looks him up and down. “God, I'm sorry I'm so late. You wouldn't believe the traffic on the motorway.”

She raises one eyebrow, waiting for his reaction. I study Danny's face. Something flits across it, a moment's discomfort chased away by his widening smile. He's more nervous than he's letting on.

“Hey!” he replies, only the slightest hesitation in his voice.

The woman cocks her head to one side. “Well?”

Danny's smile barely wavers, but I see him glance round for his mother. He's out of luck. Martha's busy greeting another group of late arrivals.

“Come now, Danny, you remember me, don't you?” the woman purrs, seemingly more amused than offended.

Danny laughs. “Of course I do.”

“Well, I must say, I expected more of a welcome than that!” Her voice is playful as she drops his hands and offers up her cheek for a kiss.

Danny's still smiling, but I can read the tension in his posture. He isn't enjoying this at all. He turns and grabs a glass of champagne from the tray Paul is passing round, and takes a deep gulp, oblivious to the woman's frown of surprise.

That's what's so odd, I think. Not so much that Danny is drinking – or that he's getting away with it – but the
way
he's doing it. Confidently, like it hasn't even occurred to him that he shouldn't.

“Millie!” Martha's voice rings out as she spots the woman Danny just embraced. “Millie! Finally!”

Millie laughs. “Well, I'm glad someone knows me. I think Daniel here is at a loss.”

“Don't be absurd.” Martha turns to her son. “He's only playing. How could he possibly forget
you
?”

Millie? Then I remember. Martha's old schoolfriend, the one from London. I've never met her, but Danny always came back from visits full of tales of river trips and the Science Museum and tea at the Ritz.

“Of course I remember you, Millie.” Danny grins, the fingers of his free hand drumming against his thigh. “I couldn't resist teasing you a little, that's all.”

Millie beams back at him. “Same old Danny. Some things never change.”

Martha laughs, slipping an arm round her friend's waist and giving it a squeeze. Her face is radiant. I don't think I've ever seen her looking so happy.

When it happens, I'm sure I am the only person who sees it. Though later, I can't be completely certain I did.

Danny, quite deliberately, spills his drink right over himself.

“Damn!” He looks down at the spreading stain on his trouser leg with feigned surprise, then back up at Martha and Millie. “Sorry. I have to go and change.” He touches Millie's arm. “It's really good to see you again.”

With that he turns and heads straight upstairs, barely glancing at us as he passes.

Out in the garden, in the marquee taking up half the lawn, the party is in full swing. The hired band is blasting out cheesy hits from the eighties. People are jiggling and swaying on the dance floor, bumping into each other and laughing and apologizing. Small kids dart between them, hiding under tables, helping themselves to what's left of the food.

Uncles and aunts and other relatives of Danny's I barely remember stand chatting in clumps, along with family friends I've never met before. Martha is one of those people who never loses touch with anyone – and it looks like no one in her bulging address book turned down the invitation to Danny's homecoming bash.

I spot Danny standing by an older couple, wearing clean trousers and an expression like nothing ever happened. Behind him all the kids from school are huddled together in the corner, leaning across to speak to one another and throwing stealthy looks in his direction. I see Lianna talking to Maisy and Olivia Richmond. I'm about to go over when Joe Rowling gets up and weaves his way to my side.

“You look nice.” His eyes give me a quick once-over. “That dress really suits you.”

I put on a pleased face. “Thanks. Danny's mum got it for me.”

It is lovely, the material light and swishy, a beautiful swirl of yellows and greens, colours I wouldn't usually wear.

Joe glances over at Danny. “Everyone's frantic to meet him, but I can't seem to pin him down. Every time I get near him he's dragged off somewhere.”

“Wait here,” I say, and go over and slip my hand through Danny's arm, smiling an apology for breaking into the conversation. I stand on tiptoe so I can whisper in his ear. “Come and say hi to everyone from school. They're all dying to see you.”

Danny's mouth turns up at the corners, but his eyes narrow as they flick towards the group in the corner.

“Come on. They won't bite.” I give him a tug and he lets me lead him across the floor. Everyone stares as we approach, while trying to look like that's exactly what they're not doing.

“Hey, Danny!” Joe says in a hearty voice that doesn't quite cover his nerves. He steps forward with his hand outstretched, hesitates, then throws his arms around his old friend.

Danny's face morphs into a grin as Joe releases him. “Boy, have you changed. Some power in that grip now.”

“I don't know what you mean,” Joe beams and flexes his arm to make his bicep look bigger. “Just the same old Joe.”

“Yeah, still an idiot.” Danny laughs before turning and pointing towards Sophie. “Vicky, right?”

“As if!” Sophie shrieks, and Vicky punches her on the arm. “She's Vicky – I'm Sophie. You know, the gorgeous, genius one.” She strikes a pose, pouting her lips, and Vicky rolls her eyes.

“Jesus, sorry.” Danny slaps his hand against his forehead. “Of course. I mean, you both look so different with make-up on. Fantastic, actually.”

Vicky and Sophie both beam with pleasure.

“That's okay,” Vicky says, ogling him. “To be honest, I'd hardly have recognized you either. You look amazing. So tall!”

Lianna turns and smirks at me. She knows all about Vicky's crush on Danny. I have to bite my lip to stop myself grinning.

Ross Jacobs steps forward and grabs Danny's hand. “You haven't forgotten me, right? Not after that drubbing I gave you in that last footy match. Face it, Geller, you never could tackle for shit.”

“Yeah, Ross. And you never could quite get the ball between the goalposts, if I remember right.”

Everyone's face relaxes into laughter. “So, how are you?” Vicky asks, her eyes glued to Danny's. At the edge of my vision, I see Dad walk right past Martha and Paul, ignoring them both. Paul stiffens slightly in his wake.

What is it between them? I wonder, for the thousandth time. This tension, this…stand-off. More like people avoiding each other than people who were friends for years.

“Hey, Hannah, you remember that, don't you?” The sound of Joe's voice drags me back into the conversation. I turn to face him.

“You know, that time in Year Seven when Danny pretended he was drowning.”

I smile. “Yeah.”

“It was John Whittaker who dared you to do it, wasn't it?”

Danny laughs. “The bastard.”

“Go on,” says Vicky, “I love that story.”

“Nah, Joe's version is much funnier,” says Danny.

So Joe recounts the whole incident, from the moment where Danny pretended he had cramp, sinking to the bottom of the pool and playing dead, to the bit where Mr Cozens jumped in and dragged him out.

“I loved how you suddenly sprang back to life right before he gave you mouth-to-mouth,” says Joe, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Can you blame me?” says Danny. “I mean, would you fancy the kiss of life from old Cozens?”

Everyone laughs again, and Joe shoots me a grateful look. I realize just how apprehensive he was about meeting Danny again.

Over his shoulder I see Dad give me a brief wave then head towards the gate. I have a sudden urge to go after him. To ask him what's going on between him and Martha and Paul. Why things seem to have gone so bad that he can hardly bear more than half an hour in the same place as them.

But then I spot Alice sitting at a nearby table, a plate of untouched food beside her, picking at a scab on her knee. She looks so forlorn I can't bring myself to ignore her. I excuse myself and walk over.

“Hey, Ally, how are you doing?”

Alice just stares ahead, her expression blank.

“Good party?”

Still no response. I've never seen her so subdued. The stubborn jut of her chin, the hint of sulkiness around her mouth. Everything about her looks cross and miserable.

I sit down beside her. “What's up, little one?”

Alice pouts, still refusing to even look at me. “Want him back.”

“Who?”

“Rudman.”

“Hey, where is he?” I realize I haven't seen him all day.

“In the shed.” Alice's finger returns to the scab. “Mummy put him in the shed again because he's naughty.”

“Naughty? What's he done?”

“Woofing,” Alice says solemnly. “And
he
don't like it so Mummy put Rudman in the shed. She put his basket in the shed too, but it's all dark and Rudman don't like it.”

Tears well in the corners of her eyes. I don't know who I feel sorrier for, Alice or Rudman.

“Don't worry,” I bend over and whisper in her ear. “He'll be fine. I expect Mummy put him in there so he wouldn't get fed up with all this noise.”

Alice chews her bottom lip and says nothing. Even through the thick lens of her glasses I can see her eyes look hollow and tired.

“Fancy some ice cream?”

She shakes her head.

“You sure? I think there's chocolate
and
strawberry.”

Her eyes finally lift to mine. But her flicker of interest is eclipsed by a scowl. I glance round and see Danny walking straight past, not even glancing in our direction.

I watch him disappear into the house, then look at Alice. What's going on with her and Danny? I wonder. Does she still not remember him?

Then it hits me. Alice hasn't forgotten Danny at all – she's
angry
with him. Angry for abandoning her, as she sees it.

This is her way of punishing him.

I study the slump of her shoulders, my mind buzzing with confusion. But that doesn't explain why Danny is acting so cool towards his sister, persists an unwelcome voice in my head. Surely he understands how she feels? Surely he'd forgive
her
of all people?

From the moment Martha brought Alice back from the hospital, a tiny bundle swamped by her babygrow, Danny worshipped her. He showed her off to everyone. He didn't care that she had Down's; just the opposite, he seemed to love her all the more because of it.

The only time I ever saw him lose his temper was when John Harding called Alice a spastic at primary school; Danny walked straight up and punched him in the face.

“Want old Danny back,” she says, echoing my own thoughts. “Not this one. Hate this one.”

“You won't always, Ally. We just need more time to get used to each other again. That's all.”

“No,” she mutters, her face darkening. “No, not ever. And not Rudman too.”

I sigh and tussle her hair. “A bowl of ice cream, I reckon, then maybe a story?”

I stand up, offering my hand. Alice looks at it for a moment, then climbs off her chair and slips hers into mine.

By the time Alice is asleep, most of the guests have vanished into the darkness. Just a hard core of friends and relatives remain gathered in the living room.

“Hey, Hannah, come and join us.” Paul waves me in, nodding towards an empty chair. Hands me a glass of Coke I don't really want.

On the sofa Martha's sitting on one side of Danny, Millie on the other, both examining a large photo album balanced on his lap.

“See, here's one of you, Hanny!” Martha tips the album and points to the picture of a little girl standing just behind Danny, trying to hide her face.

“Goodness, how alike you two were,” says Millie.

It's true. People often mistook us for brother and sister. Danny and I exchange glances, both clearly thinking the same thing – we don't look anything like each other now.

Martha turns the page and Danny points to a different picture of me with a short, wonky fringe. “Hey, titch, I remember that haircut! Didn't your mum do it?”