Blue Lavender Girl (4 page)

Today was another not-boring day.

I cycled around to the Gate Lodge as I told Jenny I would, and we spent the morning learning to bake bread (not that I will ever admit that to anyone in the free world). Nanny Gloria is exactly as you would expect a nanny to be, really no-nonsense and with smiley eyes even when she is pretending to be cross. We made olive bread and tomato bread and I took some back to Aunt Maisie when I went back for lunch.

Then in the afternoon Jenny came over here and we sat in the garden on the sun loungers and talked about our families and friends back home and school and all that. God, we could almost swap lives
at this point, we know so much about each other.

Jenny goes to boarding school because her dad is a diplomat and so her parents have to travel all around the world all the time. She used to go with them, but then she saw a film set in a boarding school and begged her parents to let her go to one. She said she just got tired of leaving her friends behind and having to make new ones every few years whenever her dad was posted somewhere new.

She was laughing so hard when I told her about the state of my bedroom back home, and said that at her school it was three girls to a room and you had to keep it immaculate. Then just so she didn’t think I was a complete degenerate, I showed her my room here, to prove I could keep a place nicely.

For some reason we ended up talking about dogs and I told her about how I did have a dog once, for a few weeks and that I really missed him.

I didn’t go into how Mum got annoyed when Trundle chewed her bag from work, and how she then mysteriously developed an allergy to dogs (an allergy that had no symptoms whatsoever!) and she got Dad to give him away. I didn’t speak to either of them for a week after that and Mum said it was a good lesson in selflessness and Dad just looked
really upset. She did buy me a new bag to break my silence, but it’s hardly the same thing.

Jenny has so many goals, she wants to play hockey for a national team, she wants to be really good at oil painting and to earn enough money to buy her own apartment before she is twenty. I only ever want to get through the day without spilling something on my clothes so I don’t have to do too much laundry. I wish I had something that I
really
wanted to do, like when I used to run out to that tyre-swing Aidan made for me years ago at the beach place.

Well, Jenny was right, I
don’t
think much of Jackson. He is so full of himself and
really
pushy, like all the worst guys I have ever met glued together and given a posh voice. I was really hoping he’d be nice and that I might even end up really liking him and going out with him.

I cycled up to see Jenny but there was no-one in, and I remembered she’d said that she and Nanny Gloria would be shopping for people in the morning. So I left
my bike there and walked up to the Big House. Aunt Maisie had told me that no-one lives in the bottom rooms of the Big House and that tour parties can book to go around them. I just wanted to look in one of the windows to see what it looked like, whether it was like in a fairy tale or like in a museum.

Walking up the wide stone steps and across the courtyard I pretended that the building was mine and I was a lady, or a baroness or duchess, or whatever you call the type of woman who lives in a place like this.

I peered through the glass into one of the darkened rooms and could make out a chandelier, some beautiful chairs, and a fireplace with a huge oil painting over it. I imagined myself sitting by the fire, wearing a long dress, reading
Jane Eyre
, as if I always read important books.

Right at that moment this guy (who I knew must be Jackson) appeared beside me and without saying hello, or asking who I was, said sharply, ‘You shouldn’t be here! You have to go!’ And he took my arm and started leading me away.

I pulled my arm back and told him where he could go, using the kind of language that usually gets me in trouble. I quickly walked back down the steps and
out of the Park and rode home so furious at him. For God’s sake, I was just looking!!

It was like he was some big lord of the manor and I was some poor wench who would steal the family silver. Well, I’m glad Jenny doesn’t hang out with him much.

I went back to Aunt Maisie’s and read in the garden.

I am going to go back tonight and look around. I bet it looks really amazing at night and there will be less chance of that stupid Jackson seeing me. He is like this monster of a man in
Jane Eyre
who owns the house she has gone to work in as a governess. In the book Mr Rochester throws his weight around just because he owns the estate, and Jackson is
exactly
like that and he doesn’t even own the place, his grandfather does.

After dinner I told Aunt Maisie I was going out to ride my bike to Jenny’s (which is true as I’ll leave my bike there) and would be back before ten. It was really dark apart from the lights on the bike, and so quiet, not even a car anywhere near. The sound of the tyres on the road and my own breathing were all I could hear. An owl hooted once and I stopped to work out where it was, but it didn’t make another
sound. When I got to the Gate Lodge I saw that the Park gates were locked, so I just had to turn back. I would love to see the Big House at night, I bet Jenny knows a way to get in. It’s a pity that such a magical place can be so wasted on a guy like Jackson.

If I lived there I would light up the courtyard and dance there every night to the sound of violins and an owl hooting in the far distance. I’d wear a floaty dress and amazing shoes and do all these ballroom dances with a charming duke, or at least a guy who doesn’t make me want to throw up.

Weird. Jenny called around in the morning and she had been speaking to Jackson. He had dropped in to her place at breakfast time, and asked about who I was (probably wanted to run me out of the country entirely!). Jenny said that I was her friend and he had better be nice to me.

Jenny tried to explain his mean, bossy behaviour away. Apparently, his grandfather is sick and he (Jackson) told Jenny that yesterday he had to get me to leave the courtyard because his grandfather was coming, and that his grandfather would have shouted at me and been really horrible and banned me from the place forever, because since his illness he does things like that. I told her that Jackson
himself had done a good enough job of being rude and horrible, and was the biggest mistake of a person I had ever met. She tried to stick up for him, but I know that’s just because she is nice about everyone. She stayed for lunch and then had to go.

Some time during the afternoon, without me or Aunt Maisie noticing, a big bunch of lavender with a note attached was left on the front doorstep. The note said,

Aunt Maisie always thinks that something is more of a big deal than it is because she is a bit dramatic, and sure enough her eyebrows were way up around the top of her head.

‘Must have made an impression!’ she said in a mysterious voice.

I know
exactly
what sort of impression I made, so I think that he must have a thing for Jenny and after
their conversation he wants to keep her happy by staying on my good side. Or else he thinks I am properly crazy and wants to make sure I don’t throw bricks through his windows. He can forget about meeting me again, I’m not going to let some bully from the Big House tell me what to do.

We went grocery shopping and I cooked a vegetarian lasagne all by myself out of a recipe book and it turned out really well. I can’t wait to tell Aidan. I wonder does he even know where I am?

I called Dee, but she didn’t ask about me, she just talked about her stuff like as if I wouldn’t be doing anything. So after ten minutes I said I had to go. She said that Daniel, the guy from the party was asking about where I had got to. I think she’s making it up to make it sound like I’m missing something.

I have decided I need a goal. I can’t think of one yet, but I know it will have nothing whatsoever to do with hockey or maths.

I bet if I had a goal people would like me more and think I was doing something important. Then I could talk about what I was doing and not just about how crap everything is. I know I say that I don’t like most people, and it’s a bit true because everyone annoys me, but I would love some friends to be happy with. Jenny is so happy already that I don’t think I could ever catch up, but I will ask her to help me get a goal.

First I will read ten pages of
Jane Eyre
in case there is some inspiration in there. I am loving reading it, but reading classic books isn’t really a
goal because I’m already doing it

OK, done the ten pages. I now know that my goal will not involve sketching or governessing.

Went to Jenny’s and Jackson was there. It was like when a well-behaved dog and a cat meet. Me and Jackson hated each other straight away.

He looked at me for a long time and said, ‘Do you always wear black?’

‘Do you
always
ask stupid questions?’ I fired back

Then Jenny got all bright and breezy and told us we all had to get along or we’d end up having to hang out with old people all summer.

She was right, so we pretended to be friendly. He offered to make me a cup of chamomile tea, and I said that the lavender he left me is very nice. I didn’t tell him how amazing it looks in the pink glass bowl I put it in, or how it makes the whole room smell delicious. I didn’t want him thinking I thought he was great or anything just for picking some flowers that were obviously meant to impress Jenny and not me.

I accepted his apology about the other day in the courtyard, because apparently his grandfather really has good and lost it, and might have done anything if he saw me there looking through the window. Jenny says he is a lovely old man, and it’s a shame that since he was sick he doesn’t really know what’s going on, and that when he gets afraid he shouts.

Jackson so fancies Jenny, it’s really obvious. He doesn’t really look at me or speak to me as he is so focused on her. He’s so not my type anyway, dressed in a rugby shirt and pristine jeans, with sun bleached hair and a posh accent. Also, he talked about things that had nothing to do with me and I think that’s just rude.

Also, he complains a lot. The next thing he said was, ‘Something is going on with Mr Walsh and I can’t work out what it is.’

‘Mr Walsh is the estate manager,’ Jenny explained.

‘It’s like since Grandad’s illness, Mr Walsh thinks the place is his, and any time I ask questions or ask if I can see the accounts, he treats me like I’m some interfering kid who has no right being there.’

I decided that this Mr Walsh has the right idea about how to treat Jackson. I might try treating him
like an itrritating kid myself! He has this annoying habit of swaying when he talks, backwards and forwards with his hands deep in his pockets. Give him a pipe and he could be someone’s Dad. I have never, ever met someone my age who is so un-hip. I mean, there’s Dolores from the year below me with the glasses thicker than a cake, but apart from her.

They talked about Mr Walsh for a while and I was half tuned-out. Then when Jackson said something about Mr Walsh buying paint and hiring people to paint the east wing, I realised he might be that man I’d seen in the village.

‘I know him, he wears a checked shirt and bought twenty pots of Jasmine White emulsion.’

‘Ten’, Jackson said.

‘No, twenty,’ I insisted, ‘I remember because our house is number 20.’

‘It only takes ten,’ he mumbled. ‘I know because we did the exact same thing four years ago. I wonder why he bought so much extra?’

This thought made Jackson go all quiet and fidgety so Jenny said, ‘Why don’t we go for a walk to the lavender field?’

The Park is huge. Enormous. We walked for ages, past the lake, then past the Big House and a cute
little fancy stone hut thing, and then through the lavender field (even bigger than the one you can see on the way to the village) and on to a funny looking single storey building which Jenny said was the old tearooms.

‘They used to serve afternoon tea here, and have dances, but it’s been closed down for over thirty years,’ Jackson explained.

Then they both began to talk about when they were little and would play together for the summer. The abandoned tearoom was their favourite place to play until three summers ago Mr Walsh decided it was dangerous and locked the place up entirely. They didn’t fight it because it was the same summer that Jackson had to start learning about the estate and Nanny Gloria got Jenny started with the good citizen bit.

The tearoom is about the size of six classrooms, and has amazing doors, ceilings, and windows, but it’s really dirty and run down. It was a single huge space like a nightclub, but a daytime, old-fashioned one, with chairs and tables stacked at the sides. We didn’t go in because Jenny once saw a rat there, which Jackson said was a mouse. I wasn’t in the mood for either.

As we headed back through the lavender field it suddenly began to rain. So we ran back to the tearoom, but the doors were locked. For a second I thought about kicking in the door and getting in that way, but I knew it would look bad. I had to do something because the rain was now getting quite heavy. Luckily, there was a window with no glass that was pretty high up, but big enough to get through. I had Jackson give me a leg up and I got through and jumped down the other side. Then it was easy to unbolt the door and let them in from the inside.

I didn’t tell them about how we used to break into the school gym during the holidays, and how I always went first because I’m so small. I didn’t want them to think I was a total vandal.

Once we were all inside there wasn’t much to do except stand there and say obvious things like, ‘Look at that rain!’

After twenty minutes or so it was still bucketing down and we knew we’d be there for a while at least. Jenny started to show Jackson how to waltz like the manager of the supermarket had showed her, and we both nearly fell over with shock when he just took off waltzing with her. He dances better than most professionals.

‘We have to learn it in school,’ he shrugged, suddenly embarrassed. I actually though it was so cool, but I didn’t tell him that. Imagine someone as annoying as him actually being able to do something good.

He then looked at me as if he felt he had to dance with me too, so I quickly started looking around and commenting on the walls and mirrors and chairs. I don’t know why, but I was suddenly really aware of my clumpy black boots compared to Jenny’s cute, red shoes. I’d have been like a bloody elephant. I can’t do those kind of dances, only the kind where you dance by yourself to rock music, preferably totally alone. I’d love to be able to dance like Jackson, but it’s not likely.

The rain went on for ages and we cooked up this plan for cleaning and tidying the place so we’d have somewhere to hang out.

Jackson was so psyched about the idea because he sleeps in a dorm at boarding school (like Jenny), then in the Big House he’s at his grandad’s beck and call, and in his parents’ house his little brother is always coming into his room. There is something so unattractive about a guy getting overly-excited. I much prefer guys who play it cool and act like they
don’t care about anything. Suddenly he was a geek again.

He walked us back to the Gate Lodge, no doubt hoping for time alone with Jenny, poor girl. I got on my bike so I don’t know how successful he was with the whole Jenny thing.

Aunt Maisie showed me some recipes for oatmeal cookies that keep fresh for days in a tin. It took me a while, but I managed to make two batches of them. I made the normal ones first and then got carried away because they actually tasted like cookies and not like something that I’d made. In the next lot I put raisins in and these ones taste even better. I am now totally in love with myself and think I am the best cook in the world! I put them in a cool red tin Aunt Maisie gave me, and we’ll keep them in the tearoom for snacks.

Aunt Maisie laughed at the way I only let us have one cookie each with our hot chocolate.

I read more
Jane Eyre
and realised that no-one is really into cooking in that book, because they leave it all up to the kitchen staff. Maybe Mr Rochester wouldn’t drink so much wine if Jane made him the
odd oatmeal and raisin cookie. Actually, she’d be better off just leaving, I don’t think he really wants her around. If a man acts weird it’s not the girl’s job to fix him as if he was a shirt with a rip in it.

I have been having loads of dreams about flowers and food all in a big messy pile, and people fighting me, trying to take it all away. I bet I have another of those dreams tonight. I bet Kira would know what it means, she has a book about dream interpretation.

Tomorrow I am going to work really hard all day at getting the tearoom in order and then I will be able to sit in there and look out over the lavender and think about my goal.