The Truth About Celia Frost (9 page)

“I bet a bird like that kingfisher sounds beautiful,” Celia mused.

“No. You’d think so, but the kingfisher doesn’t have a great song. You see, it’s mainly male birds that sing, to attract mates, and so the good-looking ones don’t
have to try. But the unattractive ones, well, most of them have amazing songs.”

“How’s your singing then?” Celia asked mischievously.

“Terrible,” he replied, poker-faced.

She smiled, taking another handful of sweets. “How come you’re here anyway? Shouldn’t you be at school?”

“I could say the same to you,” Sol answered.

“Yeah, well, my mum wants me at home.”

“Lucky you! My mum would kill me if she knew I was bunking off. It’s a good job the holidays are coming up; I’ve been getting up extra-early for weeks, just to make sure I get
hold of any letters from school before her – I’m knackered!”

“Haven’t they sent anyone round to check up on you?”

“Nah, there’s more kids skiving than turn up for my school. Anyway, I’ve only been doing it seriously for a couple of months. Before that I’d only miss odd days here and
there.”

“Is the school that bad?”

“Yeah! Half the teachers are off with stress and the other half just do crowd control. Anyway...there’s some kids there...started using me for target practice.” Sol
began skimming stones across the lake. “I don’t exactly fit in. I’m rubbish at football, I’m fifteen but I look about twelve, and I’m not interested in joining any
gang. I could have told my brothers – they would have threatened to break their legs – but I didn’t want to go there.”

“Maybe I’m better off staying at home. I’ve just moved to the Estate. Tower Two, top floor.”

“We’re in one of those crappy houses. It’s a right dump, isn’t it?”

“Tell me about it. This morning I was threatened by some scumbag gang. They were going to beat up this homeless guy so I phoned the police.”

“Who were they?”

“A bunch of ugly white boys who wore all these rings – called themselves The Sovereign Crew,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Sol took a sharp intake of breath. “I’ve heard of them.”

“Oh God! They’re going to get me, aren’t they?” Celia winced.

“Nah,” he said, looking at his feet. “Just keep your head down. There’s loads of gangs on the estate, so they’re all too busy fighting each other. Anyway, at least
you’ve only just moved there; I’ve had to live there nearly all my life.”

“Where were you before then?”

“In Ethiopia.”

“So why did you leave?” Celia asked.

“We had to. My dad was arrested.”

“Arrested!”

“He’s not a criminal or anything. All he’d done was write stuff about how corrupt the government was. He sent a message from the prison to my mum; said that they were coming to
arrest her too, so we had to get out, quick.”

“But what happened to your dad?”

“We had to leave him,” Sol said gravely. “My mum made the decision. She says it was what Dad wanted; that she was no use to him or us if she was locked up as well. She’s
spent the last ten years campaigning to get him released but we’ve heard nothing from him. The government denies that they were ever holding him. They sent letters to her saying that they
couldn’t help her find her husband. They tried to make out that he’d had an affair or something and abandoned us.”

“God, that’s terrible!”

“I know, but my mum’s having none of it. She refuses to give up. She’s
big
into praying; believes that God will help her,” he said, not looking convinced.
“She writes loads of letters to anyone she thinks can do something. My brothers tell her that it’s time to move on. They say that she’s kidding herself if she thinks we’re
going to find him after all this time. But she goes mad at them, shouting ‘Shame on you! Just wait until your father returns. Wait until he hears that you gave up on him.’” Sol
wagged his finger, impersonating his irate mother. “I just keep my head down. I’m meant to be her
good
son.”

Celia didn’t know what to say.

“Anyway, enough of my depressing stuff,” he said, breaking the silence. “I want to know what you were doing throwing yourself off a cliff.”

“I couldn’t see where I was going. I just ran off the end,” Celia said, embarrassed at how stupid that sounded.

“Well, you haven’t done yourself any damage, although your face looks sore.” He looked concerned.

“I know.” She felt her ballooned lip and bruised cheek. “But that’s not from the fall. I did it when I was crawling under the fence to get in here.”

“You’re not having a very good day, are you?”

“Weirdly,” she answered, wide-eyed, “I’m having a
great
day.”

“Why?” Sol was confused.

“Well...I think I’ve just burst my bubble,” Celia said enigmatically.

“And is that a good thing?”

“Oh yeah!” Celia said, with a smile so wide that her swollen lip hurt.

Sol felt none the wiser. “So, bubble-bursting girl, I’ve told you my life story. What about you? What about your family?”

“Oh, it’s just me and my mum.”

“Where’s your dad?”

“I haven’t got one,” Celia replied matter-of-factly.

“Everyone has a dad.”

“Yeah, but I never knew mine.”

“How come?”

“Well...” Celia replied sheepishly, “this is going to make my mum sound terrible because she’s not like this at all, but I’m the proud product of a one-night
stand. She didn’t even know the guy’s name.”

“Ah. Couldn’t she have made up a nicer story for you?”

“No.” Celia’s tone darkened. She started to examine her pale hands with agitated eyes. “I’d rather know the truth. It looks like it’s the only thing that she
hasn’t lied about.”

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.” He shrugged.

Celia stared at him; she didn’t know what it was about this boy. Maybe it was the fact that he’d just saved her life. Whatever the reason, she felt she wanted to tell him
everything.

As she let it all pour out, Sol listened, open-mouthed.

Celia finished her tale. “So what do you reckon? Why would she lie about this disorder – to me, to everyone! What is she, an evil cow or a serious nutcase?”
Celia said in disgust.

Sol hesitated. “Do you really want my opinion?”

“I’m asking, aren’t I?”

“Listen, I do have a theory, but I’m not saying it’s right. It’s just something that came into my head when you were talking.”

“Go on,” Celia said apprehensively.

“Well, there’s this condition – I saw a psychiatrist on the TV talking about it. Loads of people rang in with their stories. It’s a mental thing, really heavy stuff. I
remember it because it was
so
weird. He was talking about this case where a mother had pretended that her kid was sick for years. Telling her kid that he was really ill, getting loads of
sympathy off people and all the time there was nothing wrong with him. The psychiatrist said that the mother was doing it for all the attention everyone gave her and for the control and power she
had over her kid. Every time people started to suspect something didn’t add up, this woman would do a runner with the kid and start it all over again where people didn’t know them. It
took years for anyone to realize what she was up to, but when they did, the kid was taken off her and the mother was sectioned; locked up in some mental hospital.”

Celia seemed stunned.

“Oh my God! That’s it,” she whispered. “That’s what’s wrong with her.”

“It’s only one theory,” said Sol, alarmed. “Really, what do I know? It’s just something I saw on daytime TV.”

“NO! I think you’re right. It makes sense. It all fits in. She wouldn’t do this to me on purpose – she loves me. I know she loves me, but she’s not well, it’s
not her fault. She’s totally screwed up... Do you know that I’m named after a cook from a children’s home she lived in? Mum says that cook was the only person who ever cared
about her. It’s no wonder she’s turned out mad.”

“Listen, isn’t it best for you to talk to her first? Hear what she has to say?”

“Yeah. I need to get back.” Celia stood up urgently. “She’s got to face this. She’s not ruining my life any more with her craziness.”

Celia looked around for her bag, then suddenly remembered. “My bag! It had my mobile, my keys, my bus money in. They’re all at the bottom of the lake.”

“Well, at least it isn’t you down there. Look, don’t worry. My bike’s on the other side of the fence. I’ll give you a seater, drop you off on the edge of the
estate. We don’t want people seeing us together and asking questions, do we?”

“I’ve never been on a bike before.”

“It sounds like you’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“I know, pathetic, isn’t it?” Celia mumbled.

“No. It just means you’ve got loads to look forward to.” His kindness made Celia smile. “You’re not going to tell anyone about the quarry, are you?” he
asked.

“Course not. I promise. It’s your place. You wouldn’t want anyone else here, ruining it.”

Sol suddenly looked bashful. “Actually, I’ll probably be here tomorrow...about eleven. If you’re not doing anything, maybe you’d want to come along? You could tell
me how it went with your mum.”

“Okay,” Celia said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Why not?”

“Okay then, it’s a date!” Realizing what he’d said, Sol started to stammer with embarrassment. “No...no...not a DATE, date. You know what I mean,
don’t you?”

“Yeah, don’t worry – I know what you mean,” Celia said reassuringly.

Celia didn’t even get a chance to knock at the door of their flat before it was flung open by Janice.

“Where have you been?” she bristled. “I couldn’t get through to you on your mobile. What have I told you? Always keep it on! I’ve been worried sick. I left work
early to try to find you.” Then Janice noticed her face. Celia’s lip was thick and her cheek was now covered with an angry-looking bruise.

“Oh my God! What have you done?” Janice screeched.

“It’s none of your business,” Celia replied coldly.

“What do you mean, it’s none of my business? I’m your mother.”

“You don’t deserve to be a mother,” Celia said venomously. “Mothers are meant to protect their kids. Kids are meant to be able to trust their mothers, but
you...!” She stabbed her finger towards Janice’s stricken face.

“What are you talking about?”

“You
know
what I’m talking about,” hissed Celia. “Look at my face, my mouth. Do I look like I bled to death? Do I look like I’ve lost pints of
blood?”

“Was anyone with you? Did anyone help you?”

“No,” Celia said without a flicker.

“Well, you’ve obviously got more lives than a cat.”

“Don’t you dare!” Celia’s voice was full of fury. “Do you honestly think I’m going to believe you this time?”

“Of course you should. Your disorder is rare, so rare that there’s bound to be things they don’t know about it. It must be unpredictable.”

“I want to see proof about my ‘disorder’,” Celia said, forming inverted commas in the air. “Anything will do – a doctor’s report, a medical certificate.
It’s not a difficult request. You must have something official about such a life-threatening illness.”

“You know me...” Janice tried to withstand Celia’s stare. “I’m not one for keeping paperwork. I threw all that stuff out years ago.”

“Not to worry. I’ll just make a doctor’s appointment, have a blood test. We’ll soon know the truth,” Celia said with a menacing breeziness.

“NO! Don’t do that.”

“Why not? If you’re telling the truth, what have you got to be worried about?”

“Celia, you don’t understand. They’d take you away from me.”

“Exactly!” Celia shouted triumphantly. “I’d be taken away because we’d all find out that you’ve been lying! There is no blood disorder, is there? You’ve
made it all up!”

“Why would I do that to my little girl? Why would I put you through that? Why would I tell every school about your condition?”

“Because you’re sick, Mum, sick in the head!”

Janice gave a forced laugh. “Oh, so you think I’m a nutter now, do you?”

“Yeah – a big-time nutter! I don’t think that you’ve been lying to me on purpose, to hurt me – it’s just you can’t control yourself, can you?
There’s this psychiatric illness and I think you’ve got it. You need professional help. There’s probably some kind of medication you should have been on all these
years.”