183 Times a Year (24 page)

‘When Ruby took me to Amsterdam not long after Scott left, remember? You and Dad looked after the kids for me.'

‘Yes, I remember. Well? What was it like?'

I think back for a moment. My memories of that trip are mixed. I weighed nothing and looked terrible, my appetite completely suppressed by the great weight of sadness I carried with me. Ruby was just another brick in my wall of support. I was grateful to have her and she knew what I needed. We went shopping, avoided men, drank wine and smoked a little pot.

I smile at Mum. ‘It made me laugh – a lot – which was good because I never thought I'd laugh again,' I reply. Mum smiles back but she wears a look of concern. ‘Then we got the munchies,' I continue, ‘we ate far too much and then the paranoia set in, for me anyway. I was convinced everyone in the restaurant we were seated in was staring at us, which, with
hindsight,
they probably were because we'd both been laughing like drains for the previous two hours. Anyway, we then decided we should go back to our hotel. We headed straight for the bar; ordered two strong, black coffees and found a quiet corner to sit in until I stopped thinking I was a film director in the middle of a live film shoot, which only made Ruby laugh more.'

Nat bursts into loud fits of laughter, as does Dad who has now sat bolt upright, eyes wide open. Mum just looks confused.

‘Why did you think you were a film director?' she asks.

‘God knows? I kept standing up and randomly shouting, “Cut!” every ten minutes or so. I'm sure a psychologist would have a field day with that one.'

Nat's now laughing so hard she has to hold her stomach. Mum continues to look dumbfounded. ‘It was just part of the reaction to the pot Mum,' I try to explain.

Mum's face is a picture and I can't help joining the laughter. Her expression is one of unease as she shifts uncomfortably, trying to understand.

‘Well then,' she finally replies. ‘I've clearly led a very sheltered life. Sod the cannabis oil, bring out the pot.'

The image of Mum smoking pot makes me laugh so hard it brings tears to my eyes.

‘Well, the offer's always there …' Nat begins to say but doesn't finish her sentence due to the extreme shouting taking place at the other end of the table. I'm not sure what all the fuss is about but all hell appears to have broken loose.

Simon's voice is exploding with expletives. My serene interior is replaced by a confused foreboding as my stomach lurches into my mouth. For one dreadful moment I'm terrified Simon's slightly conservative views have collided with Sean's radical socialist ones. However, I'm rather shocked to see, Simon's barrage of abuse is aimed at Maisy. She is hovering nervously behind Sean's friend Crazee, the Australian, who is
standing
with his arms outstretched protectively in front of her.

‘Why Maisy? Why?' Simon shouts. ‘Why would you do that to me?'

‘I didn't do it to you did I?' Maisy shouts back. ‘I did it to me, to my body, not yours.'

Sean is standing behind Simon, a strong arm held across his chest, restraining him. I rush forward and all my irrational thoughts come with me.

Is she pregnant? Injecting drugs? Or maybe she's cutting herself, self-harming?
I play her words over again in my head, “I did it to my body, not yours”.
Oh my god, what if she's caught up with some pimp and is prostituting herself?
‘What?' I exclaim. ‘What the hell is it?'

Simon's face is flushed with anger. ‘Go on then show her,' he shouts at Maisy. ‘Show Lizzie what an absolute bloody idiot you are.'

‘Calm down mate,' Crazee says, his Aussie twang highly audible. ‘It's not actually that bad.'

Simon turns and glares at Crazee. ‘I'm not your bloody mate, mate,' he states through gritted teeth. ‘And don't tell me to calm down when my 17-year-old daughter has mutilated herself. For life,' he adds.

Connor and Summer are sniggering and Cassie is wearing an amused smile.

‘I haven't mutilated myself,' Maisy shouts back. She starts crying. ‘I hate you,' she says between great gulps of tears. ‘I bloody hate you.'

Well, at least it's not you she hates for a change.

‘True, true,' I respond to myself out loud.

‘What do you mean true?' Simon looks at me, confused. ‘Have you bloody seen it?'

Connor and Summer, who have now crouched down next to Maisy, have caught my attention. They are pointing and staring
intently
to the side of Maisy's left leg. Freddy has joined them and is barking incessantly. Maisy is wearing tiny shorts, which throws me for a moment. She must have changed at some point during the evening because I swear she was wearing leggings earlier. Suddenly I spot what the commotion is all about. I get a little closer, bend down towards the side of Maisy's leg and put my reading glasses on. Although god only knows why I do this? They're for reading.

‘Oh my god,' I say, swiftly standing upright. ‘Is that real?' I look at Maisy's tear sodden face. I can't quite believe what I've seen so I bend down again for another, closer inspection. ‘Is it permanent?' I ask.

‘Of course it bloody is,' Simon shouts at me.

‘It's err, well, it's um … very colourful,' I continue, unsure how to handle this. I am slightly shocked and slightly mesmerised by the artwork of a tree that has been permanently tattooed onto Maisy's leg. It starts at her ankle and winds its way right up and into her shorts. And beyond for all I know? I attempt a halfhearted laugh. ‘I see you got over your fear of needles then?' Sean cajoles a reluctant Simon over to where Mum and Dad are still sitting and Crazee wraps a consoling arm around Maisy's shoulders leading her away, towards the end of the garden. I catch a quick glimpse of Maisy's retreating face. She's upset, but not that upset. She appears to be enjoying the attention of Sean's Aussie friend.

If I didn't know any better…?

‘Oh shut up,' I reply out loud.

‘Well how would you feel if it was Cassie?' Simon responds to my outburst. I laugh inwardly.

You'd have, as Cassie puts it, a flippin eppy.

I summon a kindly, reassuring voice. ‘I know, we do need to speak to her, but not now. We all need to just calm down tonight and talk about it tomorrow.'

At
the end of the day it is only a tattoo, isn't it? No big deal really.

‘Ca'mon you lot,' Dad suddenly pipes up. ‘It's not that bleedin bad. Just remember – it's not a life, it's an adventure!'

Chapter 20

WIPEOUT

CASSIE

I can't believe the holiday is nearly over and I've like barely used my phone at all. Well, once in the morning, a couple of times in the afternoon and about ten times in the evening, which is like nothing really. I keep turning it off coz Dad keeps posting pictures of himself and Sharon and Harriet in Florida, on Facebook. I feel well chocked up when I see them. But I don't care; I've had a great holiday here.

Except when Freddy tripped me up on the beach of course, and I fell into the water, fully clothed in front of all the good-looking surfers Uncle Sean was teaching. Stupid dog.

I look across at Maisy who is tapping away on her phone again, grinning like a stupid person. I'm sure she's talking to Crazee – again! She always smiles when she's with him or talking to him. I think she loves him and I'm pretty sure she's done it with him. I didn't realise he was only two years older than her, he looks like well older, like 21 or something. His accent is well funny too.

I'm pretty pissed off actually coz Mum and Simple Simon hardly said anything to her about that bloody tattoo. Well, I'm not actually sure what they said coz they talked to her in private but they've let her keep it. Bloody favouritism. If that was me they would have made me get rid of it. It can be done. I've seen it on TV but it costs like well loads. I don't want a bloody tattoo anyway; what's so great about someone slamming a needle into
you
for hours on end?

It's stopped raining and Uncle Sean is calling over to me and Connor to join him for one last surf together before we help pack up to go home.

‘C'mon you couple of groms. The wind's blowing offshore so it's perfect,' he shouts. For god bloody sake, I wish he wouldn't call me that, I'm a bloody adult now. Almost.

‘Coming,' Connor and I both shout. Connor is wearing one of Uncle Sean's rash guards and a pair of shorts but even though the sun is shining I know I wouldn't be warm enough wearing just that so I've nabbed Nat's sleeveless vest to go over my teeshirt and shorts.

Uncle Sean makes sure our leashes are in place whilst screaming The Doors song
Break on Through (To the Other side)
from the top of his lungs. It's like dead embarrassing but nobody on the beach seems to mind. Uncle Sean seems to know everyone anyway and most people just wave and smile.

Suddenly we're in the water and for a few seconds I feel as though I can't catch my breath. It is bloody freezing! Then we're off, immersed in the great big blue. Connor and I stick with the mushy waves coz we're generally new to this whilst uncle Sean rides the more high energy ones, the groundswells further out, generally amazing us with his ripping, slashes and layback's. He is actually like soooooo bloody amazing, and doesn't wipe out once, unlike me and Connor, much to his amusement. I don't care though; I'm loving every minute.

I didn't think I'd enjoy surfing coz I can't really wear my hair extensions or my false eyelashes but it's actually well sick, well loads of fun. I get lost in the moment of it and don't care what I look like, a bit like when I'm playing piano.

Everyone thinks it's great that I'm going to study music at college. Uncle Sean even got his guitar out in the evenings and everyone sat round singing and stuff, like from the olden days.

I
quite liked helping Natasha on her allotment too. Picking fruit and veggies and stuff is like well sick, especially the strawberries, although Nat said I actually ate more than I picked. The bugs and worms were a bit freaky though and the chickens were well vicious when I went into their coupe to collect some eggs. They like well attacked my hands, pecking them and everything. Connor didn't seem to mind though. I think the chickens actually preferred him to me. Nat wouldn't let me collect any more eggs after my first attempt coz she said my screaming was scaring the chickens. What she didn't know though, was I did it on purpose to make Connor feel like he was good at something.

It's started to rain again. ‘Four seasons in one day eh Cassie?' uncle Sean says to me as we wander back up the beach. I know what he means. The weather today is like well freaky. First thing this morning it was a bit cool and breezy, then the sun came out and it was like well hot and now it's raining, again. Must be something to do with that ouzo layer, glowball warming crap. I wonder what a glowball actually is?

Well that's it then, holiday over. Goodbye scenic Perrenporth, hello boring home. Both cars are packed and sloppy goodbyes have been said. Connor is travelling with Nan, Grandad and Freddy and I'm stuck with Mum, Simple Si and the moody cow in the corner.

It's a good job Maisy didn't bring her own car coz I don't think she would have actually left if she had. She's like well loved up, absolutely crazy about Crazee, and he is about her I think. His Facebook status says “Crazee in love with Maisy”, which is kind of cute I suppose, but a bit obsessive. They've only like known each other for a week. I'd never get that besotted about someone after just one week for god's sake.

I look over at Maisy. She's all huddled up against the car door with her back to me, flicking through the pictures on her
phone
and sniffing. I don't think I've ever seen her like this about someone. I didn't even realise she actually had real feelings, until now.

Oh god, Mum and Simon have put the Radio on, Oldies FM or something – boooooorrrrrrriiiinnnggg! Why do they listen to music stations where idiots just talk all the time? I grab the earphones from my bag. Time to put on some real music. Arctic Monkeys me thinks and Alex Turner telling me
I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor
. When I become a famous performer I
will
marry Alex Turner.

Time to make a tweet I think. I scroll through all the photos of the holiday on my phone. Me at the cottage in Perranporth. Me at the bar on the beach in Perranporth. Me running on the beach in Perranporth. Connor, and me eating strawberries. Me surfing. Mum and Simple Simon. Me at St.Ives eating a Cornish cream tea. Grandad with cream on his nose. Me surfing again. Freddy barking. Connor rocking the peace sign above my head – idiot. Me at Lands End (I don't think it was stupid to ask if that was where the end of the world is?). Maisy and Crazee snogging – again! Ah ha here it is, me and all the good looking surfers. I begin to tap out my tweet.