Blue Lavender Girl (9 page)

Breakfast, Tea Palace, arranging stuff, hanging things, no dancing, no real conversations as everyone was so busy.

It’s now ten at night and I have just finished reading
Jane Eyre
and I want to start it all over again. Jane is amaaaaazing. She went back to the house she used to work in as a governess and it’s all destroyed from the fire. So she goes to a house nearby and that’s where Mr Rochester is, and he can’t believe she’s come back because he was despairing. She doesn’t care that his face is all burnt and he’s blind and missing a hand (seriously!), she just loves him. I couldn’t stop crying at that bit, I’ve turned into such a sap. The most amazing thing is
that she doesn’t care what he looks like, she just feels better when she’s around him, and it doesn’t matter what anybody else in the world might think about him looking like a bad imitation of a burger and her being nothing (although she is now rich because of someone leaving her a fortune). It’s made me think about how I feel really good with Jenny and Jackson and Bob and really bad with the people in town and at the parties back home. I finally get it, that it’s about how you feel and not what people say about who is or isn’t cool or clever or whatever.

I am shallow, I’m so crap.

I was looking at the lavender in my bedroom today and was then wondering what outfit I should wear that Jackson hadn’t seen, and I suddenly realised that I have a thing for him. That’s my little secret, but I have a feeling Aunt Maisie guessed it before I did.

Maybe it’s just because he is the only non-taken guy around, but maybe it’s real. Anyway it doesn’t matter because he probably sees me of more of a project than a person. Anyway if I can look amazing and dance really well at the party, then it will all have been worth it and I can feel like I was Rose Red or
something at least for one night. I hope someone dances with me. I am going in to practise my hold in front of the bathroom mirror.

OK. WEIRDNESS!!! That idea about me learning to not care about how cool people are has all been a bit ruined. Jackson and Bob had been shopping for the lights for decorating in the morning, and we met them as usual just after lunch. They had obviously (I mean OBVIOUSLY) been clothes shopping too because Jackson was wearing a different kind of outfit than usual. It’s radical, the kind of different that you don’t dip into, like me and my recent change. It was still jeans, sneakers and t-shirt, but this new stuff didn’t look like he’d borrowed it from his dad or whatever, it looked really good, like from a runway show or something. They’d also both had their hair cut different and they looked amazing.

‘Say nothing,’ Jenny whispered. ‘Guys don’t like you noticing that kind of thing.’

‘How do you know?’ I whispered back.

‘They don’t like people to think they care about how they look. I read it in a magazine. Ours is an all-girls’ school, we read articles about boys all the time.’ So we pretended nothing was different and the guys continued to look very pleased with themselves and Jackson didn’t do much work.

Now I’m all pissed off because the girls at the party will all go for him now, and also now I don’t get to be a better person. I can’t go out with him now that he looks great because that would mean that I don’t get to be mature about it, I might as well still be as shallow as a puddle in a heatwave. Anyway I don’t know what I’m saying I just know that he has gone and ruined everything by getting a great haircut. Now he doesn’t get to know that I liked him for being kind and patient and great to talk to. And won’t get to be with him at all if there’s that many girls coming to the party.

I had arranged to meet Jackson at eight for more
dancing, and now I take five times longer to get ready.

At first it was really fun, although now that I know I fancy him I’m
way
more self-conscious. We danced for almost two hours and he is teaching me new steps that build onto the basic ones so it all looks much fancier now. Plus, I’m not having to think and count all the time so it feels even better. Then as he was walking me back to my bike he started to talk about all the people that were coming to the party and about someone called Libby who I ‘simply
have
to meet’, and I got really jealous and starting thinking that everyone would have a good time and I’d be left sitting there like a lemon. I got really quiet and stopped answering him.

He copped on eventually and said, ‘What is it? Did I say something wrong?’

‘Forget it’, I murmured.

‘No.’

‘What?’

‘No, Tia, I won’t forget it,’ Jackson said. ‘What’s wrong? If you don’t tell me then I can’t help you and that’s not fair on me or you.’

‘Yeah, like you want to help me.’

‘Of course I do, why wouldn’t I? Do you think that I want you to feel bad?’

As soon as he said that I realised that was exactly what I thought, that people didn’t care if I felt bad. I started to cry and turned away so he wouldn’t see me.

‘AND,’ he said with a loud voice, but not shouting, ‘You CAN be upset in front of people, in front of me at least, you don’t have to get angry and storm off.’

I kept trying to hide my face from him, but he playfully pulled my hands away so I had to look him in the eye. As soon as I stopped fighting him he pulled me close in a huge hug.

He took me to the hut where we could sit down, and we talked about my parents and just, I don’t know, stuff, and he had some cool things to say. We stayed there for about twenty minutes until we heard a rat scratching under the wooden floorboards of the hut. I ran out and he followed me, laughing and shaking his head saying ‘Not so tough.’ Then I was really tired and just wanted to get home.

I think I’m glad this happened, I’m not sure. The only down side is that if he ever did have any romantic ideas about me they are well and truly out the window. Still it’s better that I know now rather than ending up getting all upset at the party.

Jenny and I found the perfect dresses today. Hers is red with a bow at the side and makes her look a bit older, and mine is midnight blue, which brings out my eyes, and has little diamondy beads and is cut low in the back. I kept staring and staring at myself in the mirror, I look that incredible in it. Tonight I am practising dancing in my new shoes until bedtime so I don’t look like a wounded giraffe at the party.

I saw something when I went to the chemist in the village today. The man that I’d seen having the argument with Mr Walsh outside Aunt Maisie’s house ages ago, he was coming out of the old warehouse building. He had a huge sack across his back filled with really heavy things.

I really want to work out what’s happening, even if it’s something as simple as them mending a pipe or something.

What I know so far:

• Mr Walsh and this man have something to do with each other.
  
• Mr Walsh bought too much paint and started painting
  somewhere before the east wing was started.
  
• I saw Mr Walsh on his hands and knees at the door of the hut the day we got the cushions and things from Jackson’s room.
  
• Mr Walsh was upset about us using the Tea Palace.
  
• A man was running through the Park at night.
  
• They keep equipment in the warehouse.
  

On a cop show they would have worked it out many ad breaks ago.

So my mind keeps skipping from being confused by that mystery and being freaked about the party.

Only three days to go! There are loads of caterers and people around the Park now so Jenny and I have decided to stay away until the actual night.

I just can’t
believe
it. I can’t understand. I am sitting here and waiting to wake up, but I’m not waking up so this is really happening to me. Aunt Maisie came in as usual this morning with a cup of tea, and this time she said, ‘No matter what happens, everything is for the best,’ just as she left the room. I soon found out what she was talking about because the moment I got downstairs Dad was there waiting for me and he looked
really
uncomfortable.

Dad said that Mum had sent him to pick me up. Apparently Mum was worried that I was too much trouble for Aunt Maisie and had booked me in to do a dressmaking course that the daughter of a friend of hers is going on.

Aunt Maisie told me that she
loved
having me here, and had been saying as much to Mum only two days ago. She tried to call Mum as I stood there in shock, but she was at work and wasn’t answering. Dad just kept saying, ‘I’ve been told to bring you home this morning,’ so he was no use.

‘Listen,’ Aunt Maisie said, ‘just go back for today and then I’ll chat with them tonight and you’ll be back here by the morning. I’ll drive and fetch you myself.’

‘But what about Buddy?’

‘I’ll take care of Buddy, it’s just for today.’

So that’s how I find myself right now back in my messy old bedroom, writing this. I feel like the world has ENDED. No Tea Palace, no Jenny and Bob, no Jackson, no fields of lavender, no Buddy, no Pie, no deer, no Park, no Aunt Maisie, no great food, no dancing, no party, no stars at night or anything. It’s like none of the other stuff happened, that I just dreamed it. Now it’s just the food-less kitchen, the living room and this messy bedroom. I could call Kira and Dee, but that would only make me feel worse. This is the first time I can remember when I have no interest in going into town. Before I left Aunt Maisie’s I saw the bits of dried-up lavender in the pink glass
bowl. I shoved them in my pocket. I keep feeling them there, and smelling them, to tell myself it was real. On the way back in the car I daydreamed about dancing with Jackson and now I might
never
get to do that again. Aunt Maisie says Mum will let me come back for the party at least, but she doesn’t know her like I do.

Jenny just phoned and said to tidy my room! That made me laugh a bit, but then we were both crying. Aunt Maisie called too, and said not to worry she’d get it sorted. So I actually spent the last four hours cleaning up this room. It now is not-messy and the next task is to make it actually look interesting. I feel like I was on a great holiday and now I’ve been shoved into hell. I just can’t stop thinking about how cruel it is. My stomach hurts.

Last night Mum came home late and I made the mistake of immediately starting to tell her about the party and what an amazing time I was having there and how Aunt Maisie really wanted me there. Mum just said, ‘You’re staying here and going on the dressmaking course, I really went to a lot of trouble to get you on it at such short notice. Really Tia, you said a few weeks ago that you wanted to be a fashion designer. I feel that nothing I do ever makes you happy – you were begging me not to send you to your Aunt Maisie’s and now if I send you back you’ll just change your mind again!’

I could see her point, but my head got all muddled and I couldn’t get the ideas sorted, so I just said
thanks for getting me into the dressmaking course.

I couldn’t sleep so I waltzed and foxtrotted my way around the room in the dark in the newly-cleared space, over and over as if I could dance it all away. I’m too tired of everything to be angry, I just feel really sad and I don’t want to do anything.

I don’t know what to do with myself tonight, especially as I’ve gone off television. Tomorrow is the day of the party and it looks like I’m not going to be there. I asked Jenny to take some pictures so at least I can see what it looked like. Aunt Maisie called and was very upset because she hasn’t been able get hold of Mum on the phone to convince her to let me come back. She said she’s going to look after Buddy until the old man comes out of hospital.

I have just spent the whole afternoon lying on my bed and staring at the ceiling. I was wondering what the guys will be wearing for the party, imagining Jenny and Bob dancing together, and remembering loads of stupid things from the last few weeks like the way Pie would stick his nose out from Jackson’s pocket, the way Jenny laughs and moves her hands about as she talks, Nanny Gloria telling us to finish everything on our plates as if we were still three years old, the way Bob would always scratch his arm
when thinking, the way Aunt Maisie would always give me a hug when I’d arrive back from being out somewhere. Mostly I was imagining the way Jackson’s face wouldn’t change if I made a mistake in dancing, the way he would just explain what to do and then smile when I got it right, even if it was something easy.

I wonder if they will ever find out why those weird things were happening with Mr Walsh?

What an
insane
life I am having! I am now back in my room at Aunt Maisie’s house. I didn’t run away or anything (although I did think about it). I couldn’t have planned it better or stranger. Earlier tonight, Mum and Dad were sitting in the living room watching a political show and shaking their heads, and I was sitting there waiting for the best moment to talk with them. Then the doorbell went and I was cursing it because I thought it meant that Mum and Dad would have a visitor and be talking with them for hours and I wouldn’t have a last chance to get to make Mum see sense.

Then it was like being on another planet because
Jackson and this well-dressed middle-aged woman walked in. I could tell it was his mother because she looked exactly like him, well except that she was a woman and pretty.

Then there was the awkward bit when no-one knows what to say, when my mother usually says, ‘now then’, and, ‘good’. So, to cut a long story short, Jackson’s mum wanted to talk to my mum and dad alone, so Mum asked me to bring Jackson with me into the kitchen.

We didn’t want to miss anything, so we sat on the stairs in the hallway instead, on the second step. We couldn’t hear the words, but we could hear how serious the voices were and that it was my mum doing most of the talking. Jackson took my hand as we sat there and listened, but I didn’t even really notice until I thought about it later. Next it changed so it was mostly his mother’s voice and then it got less serious and they were all laughing. It went back and forth like this for almost an hour, with things getting serious and then less serious. After a while we heard someone get up and we hurried as quietly as we could to the kitchen. Dad arrived in just as we had sat down at the kitchen table and said that we could come back to the living room.

Jackson’s mum is some kind of genius, even better than Kira’s mum because she actually sorts things out for you.

She had explained to my mum and dad about all the hours I had put in on the Blue Lavender Tea Palace and that I had learned to do ballroom dancing and was helping out some of the old people in the village. I found out in the car (Jackson’s mum drove me to Aunt Maisie’s) that Mum and Dad thought that I was just hanging around not doing anything and getting under Aunt Maisie’s feet. She said my parents were very proud of what I’d been doing and that they all went on to have a chat about my school and how maybe it wasn’t the best place for me.

‘So I told your parents about how boarding school works so well for my two, because there are activities on all the time and Jackson’s dad and I don’t have to worry about being home late in the evenings.’

‘So what did they say about that?’ I asked. My head was spinning, because I never thought that they might agree to let me go away to school. That would be a dream come true, like this summer carried on all year.

‘They said they would never send you to a mixed school as they wouldn’t want you getting distracted …’
(God, I can just hear them saying that, making me out to be a boy-crazed fiend!) ‘… but that an all-girls boarding school sounds like a good idea. They’ve asked me to look into some schools for them.’

‘Jenny goes to a great boarding school,’ I was so excited I started to prattle on for the next fifteen minutes all about it.

Too tired now to finish this. Very happy.