The Mixed-Up Summer of Lily McLean (13 page)

Aisha looks up at me, her face crumpled with grief.

“I don’t have any friends left at school,” she says in a tiny voice. “Imran gave me a massive talking to this evening. He says I need to calm down and stop showing off or I won’t make friends in secondary school either. He says that I was showing off so much in the boat that it almost capsized and I put everyone in danger.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I think of the little boat rocking to and fro, precariously low in the water. Any extra weight and the boat could have tipped right over. And there were no life jackets. I send out a huge, silent thank you to Summer.

Aisha, though, is still in despair. “I think I must be a horrible person, Lily. Do you think that’s why my dad left? Was it because he thought I was a liar and a show-off too?”

“No, Aisha, of course it wasn’t why he left. You’re not a horrible person. You’re just a bit mixed up and upset right now. I bet your dad loves you to bits. Whatever’s going on with him, it will have nothing to do with you. Honestly, I mean it.”

Aisha’s brown eyes are brimming with tears.

“Really, Lily? You don’t think Dad left because of me?”

I step forward, planning to give her one of my awkward pats on the back, when I trip clumsily on one of the heavy iron rings bolted to the pier’s decking. My hands scrabble hopelessly in mid air, as I realise with horror that I am going over the side of the pier and into the ink-black water. My last focused thought as I fall is that it’s still not past midnight – June 26
^th
. The day I was supposed to have died isn’t over yet. How could I have been so—

The sea is so cold that the pain of it makes me gasp. I feel like my thoughts and my heart are shutting down with the freezing shock. Trying to swim just makes me feel exhausted and weak, and the weight of my sodden clothes is dragging me down into the sea’s black, icy depths.

As I surface I try to scream, but a wave washes over my frozen, upturned face and cold saltwater fills my mouth. My throat and lungs burn and my limbs feel tired and heavy. Another wave slaps against my face and I panic, cry and gargle water. As the cold bites and my strength fades, I realise I’m drowning.

My thoughts are jumbling, slipping away. I don’t want to die. I want my mum. I want my gran. But there’s only me, alone in the sea, drifting further away from the pier with every gasp.

Then, above the roaring in my ears, there’s a distant, frantic yell. When I open my eyes, there’s an orange life buoy ring floating near my head. But when I reach out and try to grab it with numb, useless fingers, it slips out of my hands and bobs away on a wave.

I scream again, but this time, it’s a rage-filled scream. The feeling of helplessness has gone.

Pull yourself together, Lily McLean,
I inwardly hiss.
You are not going to die here in freezing darkness, no way. You’re wearing Mrs McKenzie’s water lily charm. It will keep you safe. You owe it to Summer not to die tonight. She needs you. And Jenna needs you. Don’t let her get thrown out of the house. And Bronx and Hudson need you. They’ll forget the Three Unbreakable Rules. They’ll get
into trouble like their dad. And Mum needs you. Don’t let your step-dad back into their lives
.

The life buoy ring is once again spinning through the air towards me. As it splashes in the water a short distance away, I gather all my strength and swim slowly, clumsily towards it. I reach out and clutch at its hard slippery sides. There’s a moment of euphoria when I manage to grab the rope looped round it, then haul myself up, so my head and shoulders are out of the water. My body is floating, like a water lily in a pond, no longer drowning.

My eyes close as I feel myself being dragged through the rippling waves. All thoughts about being strong and keeping safe for my family’s sake have evaporated. I’m shuddering with cold and tiredness and can’t fight a moment longer. I need to sleep.

My sleep is disturbed by David, who is wrestling my body into the recovery position on the pier’s wooden boards. I give in to an uncontrollable urge to vomit all the seawater I’ve swallowed. Rowan is crying hysterically. She would not make a good nurse.

“You’ll be ok, Lily,” says Aisha, sounding anguished. “The air ambulance is on its way. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about everything. I’m an idiot. I’ve messed up so badly.”

“Aisha, it was an accident. Stop this,” barks David. “We need to focus on Lily. Can you hear me, Lil? It’ll be all right. Can you hear the helicopter? It’s coming for you.”

I can’t hear very well, for the buzzing in my ears. I try to shake my head, but can’t seem to get it to move. I must tell David he should be a nurse or a paramedic when he leaves school, rather than a film director. He’s good.

“Please forgive me, Lil. We are going to stay friends, aren’t we, Lil? Please?” asks Aisha, clutching my hand. She is a real mixed-up kid, that one. I try and squeeze her hand, but I don’t know if she can feel it. I am as weak and transparent as my ghost.

I close my eyes again, desperate for sleep.

Reason to be happy:

• I’m still alive… and that changes everything.
  

When I open my eyes a second time, everything looks different. The lights are so bright I have to blink furiously to focus. I am lying on a narrow bed, under starchy white sheets and a blue cotton blanket. There’s a machine bleeping and I’m attached to it by a long snaking tube, which ends in the back of my hand. There are cartoon animals painted on every wall. I’m dead and I’ve gone to Disney hell.

“Hi Lily,” says a gentle, familiar voice. I turn my head, which is aching, and see my mum standing by the bed. Her face is pale and tear-stained. “You’re in hospital, dear.”

My amazing powers of deduction have already worked that one out. I knew I wasn’t dead really. My head and chest wouldn’t be hurting so much if I was dead.

“The air ambulance brought you all the way to Glasgow. You’re in Yorkhill Childrens’ Hospital.”

That explains the cartoon bunnies and the baby deer prancing all over the walls. Perhaps they should cater to different age groups in a children’s hospital, rather than just the tinies. They could paint vampire murals for the teenage girls.

“The doctor says you are going to be absolutely fine. You have mild hypothermia, and you had a little water in your lungs, but
you’re a strong girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Mum,” I say, surprised by my whispery voice. “I think so.” I try and sit up, but find that I can’t, and so lie back down, exhausted. “Maybe not so much at the moment,” I mumble.

“Your friends saved your life,” Mum says. “They threw you the life belt and called the ambulance. Wasn’t it lucky that they were there for you? You could have drowned…”

“Where are they?” I ask, eyes darting round the room, hoping to see them standing by my bed. I can imagine them there, David worriedly running his hands through his hair, Rowan tearful and relieved that I’m ok. And Aisha… I’m not so sure what Aisha would be doing. I don’t know her well enough yet really. But I’m determined I will, once we start secondary school in August. She clearly needs a friend.

“They are all at home with their parents. They’ve had a real fright,” says Mum. I have a bad feeling that Rowan’s mum is going to be even less keen than before about her associating with me. I’m clearly trouble.

Mum moves across the room, and opens the door.

“She’s awake!” she calls, and there’s a small cheer from outside the room. Gran comes shuffling in, her old face creased with fear and worry and I am sorry to have caused her such distress.

“Oh Lily,” she sobs and envelops me in a huge bear hug. I think I’m suffocating. Then she towers over me, her face grim as a Viking shieldmaiden. “What were you thinking, leaving the caravan without telling me?” she roars. “I thought you were such a sensible child. You’ve let me down badly, Lily.”

I flush with shame. I know exactly why I did it. I was trying to push aside my feelings, not wanting to be left alone with my thoughts, wanting to give my friends an exciting time and not thinking enough about my poor old gran.

“I’m so sorry, Gran,” I whisper, my eyes flooding with tears.

“I think we should wait until Lily feels stronger before we badger her about how and why this happened,” says Mum, calmly but firmly. Gran nods. They are for once in agreement.

They even give each other a big, tearful hug.

Jenna enters, carrying little Summer in her arms. Jenna’s face is white and she looks exhausted.

“Silly cow,” she says to me bluntly. “Don’t you dare do anything so stupid again.”

But she strokes my hair gently with her free hand and I see tears in her eyes. I’ll need to have near-death experiences more often.

Wee Summer is clutching her scruffy toy lion and she grins when she sees me, oblivious to all the drama. I smile back at her, reach out and take her hand. She’s real. She’s my little sister, my ghost, my life saver. Summer senses that I’m not quite myself. She generously holds her lion out to me for a cuddle.

“Woawy,” she says. “Woawy.”

“I know,” I say. “You’ve decided to call your lion Roary.”

I take the scruffy little lion in my arms and hug him tightly. His fluffy mane tickles my nose.

The following day, the nurses are busy preparing me to come home from hospital. As well as my head and chest feeling much better, the fear and dread I’ve been carrying around for weeks and weeks has finally lifted. Plus, I’ve apologised to Gran properly, and promised that on next year’s holiday, I’ll be as good as gold.

Mum and Gran are both in a particularly good mood today. While Gran and I were in Millport, the house was inspected by the council and they’ve agreed it’s too small for our needs. We’ve been offered a bigger house nearby. Gran is planning to do her own inspection of it tomorrow. Maybe it’s the thought of not having to
share a bedroom with Bronx and Hudson any more that’s making me so light-headed and dizzy.

I walk out into the sunny hospital corridor with its cheerful Lion King murals.
Keep them
, I think. We shouldn’t ever grow out of liking kids’ films. Who needs gloomy vampires?

My gran and my mum are coming along the corridor to meet me, both looking happy. Summer is waving at me from her pushchair. I wave back at her and laugh to myself. She has no idea what she has done for us.

“Wiwy come home,” she shouts gleefully. I want to do cartwheels down the corridor. My wee sister speaks in sentences! She will have a wider vocabulary than Doug the Thug before the summer’s out.

I want to get home, pack up all my stuff and move into our new place as soon as possible, because then I can invite my friends round whenever I want, though I might have to go round to Rowan’s house first and grovel to her mum.

I’ll need to convince Mum to take us all over to Millport for a day out so I can talk properly to Aisha. A trip to Cumbrae will be good for Bronx and Hudson too. They need less television and more fresh air. And maybe we can persuade Jenna too, while she’s still feeling grateful that I’m alive.

Most importantly, I owe Summer a big debt, and I plan on repaying it. I’m going to do the best I can to stick around. We may be a bit of a mixed-up family, but I know that together we’ll be ok.

And as Aisha says, I also need to chill sometimes – I’m only eleven. I’ve got endless time, because, thanks to my baby sister, I’m still here.