Butterfly Summer (10 page)

I blushed, remembering how we used to argue over who was going to marry him and how many children we’d have. We’d do this silly thing where we’d spin a bottle and if it stopped facing me then I was the one he loved the most and if it stopped facing Laura it was her. It seemed so babyish suddenly, like playing with Barbies or dressing up.

Halfway through the year he started going out with this beautiful girl called Amira. I took a photo of her once, without her knowing. I pored over it, trying to see what she had that I didn’t. I tried to work out if it was her hair, or her eyes or something about the way she smiled. I spent hours in front of the mirror trying to mimic that smile, until my face ached with the effort.

They didn’t date for very long. He dumped her for this girl Sascha, and then dumped Sascha for someone else again. Three girls in a month, each one prettier than the last. Laura and I would sit round at hers, swapping bits of gossip. Dissecting every last piece of news:
he was the best kisser. He was the worst kisser. He’d kissed all the girls in Year Nine
. We loved talking about him – convinced it would all be so different if only he’d date one of us...

The next morning I snuck out before Mum woke up, and wandered down the lane, waiting for my phone to come to life. My fingers were all over the place as I asked Mack to meet me at the green on Thursday morning at ten. I pressed
send
before I could change my mind. My heart was about to burst out of my chest. It was only a text, but it was the scariest thing I’d ever done. Mooning over Jamie Palmer was easy – he was never going to notice me in a million years. But this was different.

Seconds later, my phone vibrated. One new message:

What took you so long? See you Thursday. M.

I rushed back home and made Mum a strong, black coffee. The kitchen was a mess, but the most important thing was to get her out of bed so she could start looking for a new job. My heart was still going a million miles an hour as I climbed the stairs to her room. She was curled up under her sheet, her knees all the way into her chest as if she was trying to protect herself from something. It made me want to stretch her out straight just to prove to her that she was safe.

“It’s nearly ten,” I said, fussing around. I opened the curtains and gave her a little shake. “Come on, Mum. It won’t do you any good staying in bed all day.”

She groaned, pulling a pillow over her face. “Leave me alone, can’t you?” Her voice was thick with sleep. I eased the pillow off her face and wafted the coffee under her nose.

“Come on, Mum. Sit up.
Please
.”

She reached out for the mug, her eyes still shut tight, sloshing coffee over the sides.

“Hot!” she gasped, grabbing at the front of her nightie to stop it burning. “Too hot!”

It was nearly lunchtime by the time she was showered, dressed and downstairs. I put her sheets in the wash with her nightie and sat her at the kitchen table with the local paper, open at the jobs section. She’d been through a lot over the past few weeks, but I’d never seen her as bad as this.

“What really happened at Hartons, Mum?” I asked gently. “Did you fall out with someone, or get into trouble over something? It’s not like you to give up so easily.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “It wasn’t just the job, Becky. It’s being back here, in Oakbridge. I’m finding it so difficult.”

“But why? What are you finding difficult? It’s not because we rowed yesterday, is it?”

She shook her head. “Of course not. It’s got nothing to do with you, Becky. It’s me. I just don’t feel right inside.” She took hold of my hand across the table. “It’s been wonderful seeing Stella again,
more
than wonderful, and I love being in the country, but there are so many memories...” The tears spilled over.

It was awful; I didn’t know what to do. “I just wish you’d tell me what’s wrong. I wish you’d trust me. You were so excited about the job. I thought it was this big step up for you.”

“It was, and I
was
excited...” She broke off, looking bewildered, as if she really didn’t understand why it had all gone wrong. “I’m sorry, Becky. I shouldn’t get so upset in front of you.” She took a deep, shaky breath, wiping her eyes. “I’m fine,
really
. Why don’t you pop out for a bit? Get some fresh air.”

I went round the table to give her a hug. I didn’t want to leave, not when she was about to open up, talk about the past. “It’s okay, Mum. I’ll stay and keep you company. We could spend the rest of the day together if you like?”

She held onto me, stroking my hair. “You’re such a good girl, but I’m fine, Becky, honestly. You get on and I’ll start looking through the paper, I promise.”

I ended up running all the way to the Garden, worried about the time, shooting straight past Maggie and through to the little shop. I didn’t want Rosa May to have a go at me again.

“You’re in a hurry,” said Joan. “Is everything okay?” She held out her little red stamp.

“Everything’s fine,” I panted. “I’m just really late to meet my friend.”

She looked confused for a moment, but there was no time to explain. Once Joan got started, it was impossible to get away.

“Where on earth have you been?” cried Rosa May as I burst through the door. She grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the bridge. “I’ve come up with this brilliant plan and I’ve been dying to tell you all morning.”

“Hey, careful, you’re hurting me. I’m sorry I’m late, it’s just that my mum’s left her job and I didn’t want her to spend all day in bed.”

“Oh no!” Rosa May slowed down, loosening her grip. “You won’t be moving, will you?”

“I hope not. That’s why I had to make sure she was up, so she could start looking for something new straight away. She promised me she’d have a go, but she’s always promising things...”

“Cheer up, Becky. Your mum might break all her promises but I
never
break mine.” She took my hand and laced our fingers together, squeezing them tight. “Remember our pact?”

I nodded, squeezing back. “What’s this brilliant plan then?”

She explained the whole thing as we made our way across the field and over the bridge, our hands still laced together.

“My dad once told me that the adult Silver-studded Blue likes to feed off the nectar from a shrub called bell heather, and I’ve just found out that there’s a whole load of it growing right at the back of the Garden.”

I always felt funny when Rosa May mentioned her dad – it gave me that hollow feeling in my tummy – but I didn’t say anything. “What does the heather look like?”

“It’s a sort of pinky-purple colour, with bell-shaped flowers, and very pretty.” She started to run suddenly. “Come on, Becky! Today might be the day!”

We found the bell heather growing in a completely deserted part of the Garden and lay down to wait. Hiding away there with Rosa May, it felt as if we were the only two people in the world. I’d never been to her house or met her parents or any of her other friends, but it didn’t seem to matter. The Butterfly Garden was our special place; like having a secret no one else could share.

While we watched and waited, I told her about Mum. About how I’d heard Stella shouting at her and that we’d had a really big row. She hung onto every word, her eyes glued to my face as I described exactly what happened. The only thing I didn’t tell her was that I’d arranged to meet up with Mack. I really wanted to, but I knew she’d be hurt.

“So do you think they were arguing about the photo?” she asked when I’d finished. “Is that what Stella meant when she said you had a right to know?”

I nodded. “I think so. I can’t be sure, but you should’ve seen the way they froze when I walked in. She must’ve been discussing it with Stella, and for whatever reason she doesn’t want me to know. It’s not just the photo either. She won’t tell me anything about my dad and every time I ask her she gets one of her awful headaches or collapses in tears. I want to know why they broke up and why he disappeared before I was born, but she just won’t go there. It’s almost as if she wants to pretend the past never happened.”

Rosa May sat up, pulling at the grass around her. “I’m never going to have children,” she said quietly.

I pulled her arm. “Don’t be silly. You’ll change your mind when you’re older, I bet you anything.”

“No, I won’t,” she said. “I’ll never change my mind.” Her voice was rock hard. “Grown-ups always lie to children. They lie and they let them down, and they say they love them but they don’t. Not really.”

“What about
your
parents?” I asked. “I’ve never even met your dad and he works right here at the Garden.”

“He’s too busy,” she said. “He doesn’t like me to bother him while he’s working, and my mum’s not around any more.”

I looked at her, shocked. “What do you mean?”

She didn’t say anything but her eyes glazed over and she started to blink very fast, as if she was trying not to cry.

“Where is she, Rosa May? She’s not...
dead
, is she?”

She nodded, turning away, but I pulled her close, wrapping my arms around her. “But why didn’t you tell me? All these times I’ve talked about my mum. Why didn’t you say?”

I felt like my heart was going to break for her. I was always moaning about Mum, wishing she could be more like the other mums, more normal, but I knew I’d be lost without her.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Rosa May?” I said, stroking her hair. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m fine,” she said. Her voice was muffled against my shoulder. “It was such a long time ago. I don’t like to think about it.”

We didn’t spot the Silver-studded Blue that day or the next. We lay on our backs, staring up at the endless blue sky, talking and mucking about. The hours drifted by in a lazy haze of sunshine. We saw lots of blue butterflies, all of them after the sweet bell heather nectar, but none of them had delicate silver edging around their wings.

Early on Wednesday afternoon, we noticed Joan from the souvenir shop coming towards us across the field. I’d never actually seen her outside before, and just for a moment I wondered if something was wrong. As soon as Rosa May realized she was headed our way, she leaped up and hid behind the nearest tree. “
What are you doing?
” I hissed, but she put her finger to her lips to shush me.

“Oh, hello, dear,” said Joan a moment later, walking straight past the tree and stopping in front of me. “I really felt the need to stretch my legs, but it’s sweltering out here. Is your friend not coming to meet you today?”

I was about to answer when Rosa May slipped out from behind the tree so she was standing directly behind Joan. “Erm...later on th-this afternoon,” I stammered, trying not to laugh. “She’s...erm...busy at the moment.”

Joan began to tell me about her favourite butterfly, the Marbled White, and about how she’d spotted one on the way down to me, while Rosa May waved her arms around behind her, pretending to stamp her hand over and over like Joan does in her little shop. I held my breath to stop myself snorting. She looked so silly I thought I was going to burst.

“Are you okay?” said Joan. “You’re ever so red in the face.”

I sucked my cheeks in, trying to keep a straight face. I was sure she was going to turn round any second and catch Rosa May. “It’s the heat,” I spluttered. “I’ve probably had too much sun.” Rosa May stopped stamping her hand and pretended to wipe imaginary sweat from her forehead, swooning back as if she was about to faint.

“It’s just that we hate to see you out here on your own,” Joan went on. “It can’t be much fun.” I shook my head, and then nodded, willing her to go before I gave the game away. “Anyway, I’d best be getting on.” She turned to go and Rosa May slipped back behind the tree. “I do hope your friend turns up soon.”

We waited a minute, until Joan was far enough away, and then collapsed laughing.

“Don’t ever do that again!” I gasped. “I thought I was going to die!”

Rosa May rolled around in the grass, clutching her stomach. “But you should’ve seen your face, Becky! It was classic!”

“Yeah, but Maggie and Joan will think I’m some saddo loser with no friends!”

“So what if they do? They’re just two saddo old wrinklies with no life!”

“No they’re not!” She was so mean about people sometimes. “Anyway, I think they’re sweet.”

“
Sweet
,” she snorted, leaping up suddenly and pretending to stamp her hand over and over.

I wrestled her back down, laughing again. I don’t think I’d ever laughed so much in my life, or had so much fun. “You’re off your head,” I said, when I managed to get my breath back, “but I love you anyway.”

“Love you too, Becky Miller,” said Rosa May, and we lay back in the grass, grinning.

Nothing much happened for the rest of the afternoon. I think I’d half given up on ever spotting a Silver-studded Blue. I so wanted to believe in the myth – believe that my dad would be on his way to see me if only I was the first to spot one this summer. But the world was so big and my dad could be anywhere, and if he’d never been interested in finding me before, why would he suddenly show up now?

“Do you know where I think we might be going wrong?” said Rosa May, as I was getting ready to leave. “Some butterflies only like to feed very early in the morning, at sunrise, so if we’re going to spot one around the bell heather we probably need to get here much earlier than usual.”