The Truth About Celia Frost (30 page)

Janice stepped out of the old clinic and filled her lungs with the crisp, moor air. She studied the wild, sweeping landscape, just beginning to stir in the dawning light.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Frankie appeared next to her.

“It’s different from how I remember. I’d always pictured it as a bleak, godforsaken place, but you’re right, it really is quite beautiful.”

“Well, you can relax now, Janice. Everything’s under control. I’ve tied up Nemo, put tape over her big mouth so she can’t spout any more rubbish. And Celia’s fine,
isn’t she? So all in all, job done!” he said with a satisfied smile.

“You’re a real hero, aren’t you, Frankie?” Her words dripped with sarcasm.

Frankie looked hurt. “What do you mean?”

“I came out to find you, but, to be honest, I didn’t expect you to still be here. The police are on their way you know. I phoned them when we got here and I realized that you’d
been lying to us.”

Frankie couldn’t look at her.

“You put Celia’s life at risk just to save your own skin,” she said in disgust.

“Please hear me out, Janice,” he said, desperate to defend himself. “I admit there was some self-interest – I didn’t want to end up in prison. But you’ve got
to believe me, I knew I stood a better chance of saving her by keeping the police out of it.”

“Oh, yeah,” Janice said, bristling. “And what made you think that?”

“Because I know the police. They would have messed this up. They would have arrived here and Nemo could have hidden Celia, spun them some story and got rid of them. By the time
they’d made all their enquiries, done all their paperwork, and come back here, it would have been too late. So you see, Janice, it was better that I handled it.”

Janice gave an exasperated sigh. “You always make everything sound so convincing. You’re lucky that Celia’s okay, otherwise your life wouldn’t be worth living.”

“I would have handed myself in if anything had happened to Celia. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.”

“That’s easy to say now, isn’t it?”

He stared into her eyes with an unflinching intensity. “I can’t pretend that I’m a good man, Janice, but maybe, if I’d had you in my life, I could have been a better
one.”

Janice glared at him. “You can stop with all the corny lines. You don’t have to keep up the act any more.”

“Would you believe me if I said I’m not?”

“Oh, for God’s sake! Just get out of here!” she said, trying to hide her blushing face.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, get going before the police arrive.”

His face lit up. He grabbed her hand but she pulled away, like a petulant child. “You’re a wonderful woman, Janice. And I’m telling you, if you and Celia ever need help,
I’ll come and find you.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” she sniped.

She watched as he ran down the driveway towards his car, stopping to blow her a kiss before disappearing out of sight. Janice shook her head disapprovingly, but was unable to stop a trace of a
smile forming on her lips.

Sol laughed as he watched his brothers vying for control of the barbecue. Celia beckoned him over to the far corner of the sun-bleached yard.

“I feel bad not being able to tell your mum what really happened,” she said uneasily.

“Listen, it’s not like we’re lying to her. The police told you, me and Janice that we weren’t allowed to discuss it with anyone yet, and that includes my mum. We have to
do what they say. We don’t want Hudson getting off with it because we opened our mouths and ruined their investigation.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Anyway...” Celia bit her lip. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Go on,” Sol replied, studying her pensive face.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about things and I don’t reckon that I should ignore this virus in me. I know my mum wants me to forget about it, but I can’t. The whole thing
is too big, too important. Mum seems to think I can just live a normal life with it, but I need to know for sure. And it’s not just about me, is it? Can you imagine if the Saviour Virus
really can cure cancer? What would you do, Sol? Could you keep it to yourself when there’s a chance that you could help so many people?”

Sol was hesitant. “Well...no...I suppose not. But you know that Janice is terrified of what they could do to you. Just look at what Hudson was prepared to do.”

“But other doctors aren’t twisted like her. There are rules, laws. I’d be protected from people like Hudson.”

Sol looked uneasy. “Don’t go doing anything stupid, Celia.”

“I’m not going to. I know that doctors want to talk to me and I just want to hear what they have to say. Maybe I can give a few blood samples, let them take scans of my body. If I
can help them, then I should!”

“But there’s no way Janice will let you even talk to them,” Sol said.

“I’ll just have to work on her; there’s no rush. But I need you to back me up. Will you, Sol?”

Sol remained silent.

“Please, Sol! I don’t think I’ll have the guts to do the right thing if I haven’t got your support.”

Sol nodded resignedly. “Okay, I’ll help you to persuade Janice on one condition; if those doctors start talking about operations and cutting you open, then you’ll tell them
where to go?”

“Of course! I promise,” Celia declared solemnly.

Abs called over to them, mopping his brow as the heat of the sizzling barbecue rose up in his face. “Hey, Celia, are you ready for another perfectly cooked burger?”

“Sounds good,” Celia answered. “And may I just say, Abs, you look lovely in that apron. Pink is definitely your colour.”

A disgruntled Yacob chipped in. “I’d look even better in it, if he’d stop hogging the barbecue and let me have a turn.”

“Back off, brother.” Abs waved a spatula at him. “You stick to frying the onions and leave the hard stuff to an expert. Now could someone
please
get Emama and Janice out
of that house? They’ve been in there for ages, cackling away like two old witches.”

“I heard that!” Mrs. Giran boomed, emerging from the kitchen with Janice, arms linked like two old school friends. “My boys do a lovely barbecue, Janice, but if you want to
taste some proper food you should come around next week and I’ll cook you a traditional Ethiopian meal. What do you think? Do you have time?”

“Yes. I’d love to,” Janice said, delighted.

“What have you two been talking about all this time?” Sol asked.

“If you must know, we’ve been swapping notes on how to survive living with teenagers and overgrown boys,” Mrs. Giran answered.

“You’d be sorry if we left. You love having us at home.” Abs preened.

“Ha! I’m waiting for a couple of nice girls to come and take you two off my hands.” Mrs. Giran winked at Janice.

“Yeah, well, if you didn’t interrogate every girl we brought home then we might have more success,” Yacob complained.

“I’m only trying to get to know them; someone has to. Remember that girl who sat here in the shortest skirt I’ve ever seen and no underwear!” Mrs. Giran wagged her
finger.

Yacob put his head in his heads. “She had a thong on, Mum.”

“I don’t care what you call it. It didn’t cover the appropriate places. I was so embarrassed for the poor girl that I offered her a pair of mine.”

“Yeah, and surprisingly after that she dumped me,” Yacob said indignantly.

“You had a lucky escape. He should be thanking me, shouldn’t he, Janice?” Mrs. Giran said.

Janice sat under the umbrella, unable to speak for laughing.

Sol whispered to Celia, “Do you fancy getting out of here before we have to listen to any more embarrassing stories?”

Celia nodded. “Okay. My mum’s having a great time. She won’t miss me if I go.”

“You don’t mind if me and Celia head off for a bit, do you?” Sol asked with a winning smile.

“Where do you two go every day?” Mrs. Giran asked.

“Nowhere special. Just around.” Sol shrugged. “Go on, Mum, can we? We’ll make sure we’re not home too late, honest.”

“It’s okay with me if it’s okay with Celia’s mum,” Mrs. Giran said, noticing the smile fall from Janice’s face. Celia noticed it too.

“Mum?” Celia took Janice’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Janice hesitated, battling against years of ingrained fear.

“Mum, I’ll be fine. Let me go,” Celia said gently.

Janice nodded, tears pricking her eyes. “Of course you’ll be fine. Go! Have fun!”

Celia’s face lit up. She planted a smacker of a kiss on her mother’s cheek before running to the front door with Sol.

Sol picked up his pace as the bike reached the main road. “By the way,” he shouted to his passenger, “‘Psycho Sol’?! Baby-faced nutter with an
obsession with YOU?! Thanks a lot!”

Celia burst out laughing. “Come on, you’ve got to admit, I was pretty good.”

“No,
I
was pretty good. You just sat there spouting rubbish. It was me who had to give the Oscar-winning performance.”

“You must be joking. She could have killed us both in the time it took you to get warmed up.”

He glanced over his shoulder at her, raising his eyebrow. “One needs time to get into character, darling.”

She gave him a shove. “Seriously, Sol, you do realize that’s the second time you’ve saved my life.”

“Can I help it if I’m such a hero?” He laughed.

“But you know what this means.” Celia paused, adopting a melodramatic tone. “This means that we’re now bound together until the day I repay the debt by saving
your
life!” She suddenly became very conscious of her hands holding onto his waist. Nerves started to creep up on her as she waited to see how he’d respond.

Sol looked over his shoulder, his face bashful as if he were summoning all his courage. “Well then, I hope that day never comes,” he said, hurriedly looked forward again.

Celia grinned at the back of his head. “Me too,” she whispered.

“Did you say something?” Sol shouted back.

“No! Just get a move on. Pedal faster,” she blustered, blushing.

“Celia,” he puffed, “I have
got
to teach you how to ride a bike.”

Letting go of Sol’s waist, she raised both arms up in the air, her mouth in a mile-wide smile.

“I...can’t...wait!” she shouted to the skies.

Acknowledgements

My heartfelt thanks to Sara Grant, Sara O’Connor and everyone involved in SCBWI British Isles Undiscovered Voices 2010, which opened up opportunities I could only have
dreamed of.

A massive debt of gratitude goes to the wonderful Jo Unwin, my agent at Conville and Walsh. Thank you to Megan Larkin; also to my editor, Rebecca Hill, and Sarah Stewart – their commitment
and skill has enabled the delivery of
Celia Frost
without the need for forceps – it’s been a pleasure working with them; to the publicity and marketing team and all at Usborne
for the brilliant job they have done.

Thanks to my mum for buying me and my siblings all those Ladybird books when we were little; to my friend, Julie Burke for her support and allowing me to drag her to literary events in the hope
of improving our minds and procuring free alcohol; to the loves of my life – Stan, Archie and Sadie. What would I do without them? (Get more work done but have less fun.) Finally, thanks to
another love of my life, my husband David. His blind faith in me and incredible practical support (e.g. correcting typos at two in the morning) has made this happen. Thank you all!

About The Author

Paula Rawsthorne’s talent for writing has already seen her become an award-winner. One of her first stories won the BBC’s 2004 Get Writing competition and was read
by Bill Nighy on Radio 4, and
The Truth About Celia Frost
, her first novel, led to Paula becoming one of the winners of the Undiscovered Voices 2010 competition.

Paula lives in Nottingham with her husband and three children, where her writing is fuelled by a diet of coffee and cakes.