Butterfly Summer (13 page)

“I really think my mum’s losing it, you know,” I said after a bit. “She was so keen to come back and live in Oakbridge. She kept going on about making a fresh start and how great it would be to live in the country – but I swear she’s cracking up.”

“Are you going to ask her what she was doing here today?”

“No, of course not.” I sat up, clasping my arms round my knees. “If she finds out I was here, she’ll never let me come back.”

Rosa May snorted. “Why not? She lets you go off by yourself every day anyway, so what’s the difference? She doesn’t seem that bothered about you at all.”

I opened my mouth and shut it again. I didn’t want to tell her. Not about the lake. If she found out Mum was terrified of the water and that neither of us could swim, she might insist on teaching me herself. Swimming was as natural to Rosa May as breathing, but the thought of going anywhere near the lake with her filled me with dread. Swimming with Mack in a pool was hard enough, but swimming with Rosa May in the lake was beyond scary.

“You still haven’t told me where you were yesterday,” she said suddenly, as if she could see right inside my head. “I asked you before but you didn’t answer.”

It was so hot. I began to feel strange. Rosa May was staring at me, waiting for me to say something.

“I’ve got to...to...get back,” I stammered. “I’ve got to make sure my mum’s okay.” I felt dizzy suddenly. I put my head between my knees. “She’s wandering around in her winter coat. I’m worried about her.” I started to get up, but Rosa May grabbed me and pulled me back down.

“Just tell me, Becky. Where were you?” She squeezed my wrist.

“Don’t do that, it hurts.” I tried to yank my hand away but her grip was too strong. Our eyes locked for a second, both of us breathing hard, and then she let go, her face crumbling.

“I’m sorry,” she cried. “It’s just I was waiting and waiting and you didn’t come. I got here really early and I waited all day.”

“It’s okay. It’s all my fault. I should’ve let you know. Don’t get upset, Rosa May, please.”

I was still finding it difficult to catch my breath. The air around us was thick and sticky like syrup. I helped her up and we stood there hugging for a second.

“I was lonely without you here,” she whispered. “Don’t ever let anyone come between us, Becky.”

I shook my head, holding her tight. “I won’t, I promise.”

“On your life?”

I nodded. “On my life.”

She walked me to the exit. It was still quite early, but I had to make sure Mum was okay. “I wish I could stay,” I said, hugging her again.

She pulled back suddenly, her eyes searching my face. “Do you ever think about the end of the summer? About what’s going to happen when school starts? And the weather changes? And the Garden closes for winter?”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to think about it, it’s too awful.”

“But do you think we’ll still be friends?”

“Of course we will!” I cried. “We’ll always be friends. We’ll meet up every weekend and after school, and when my mum’s feeling better you can come and sleep over at mine.”

“It won’t be the same though, will it? It won’t be the same as meeting up here every day.” She paused for a moment. “Not unless I could find a way...”

“What are you talking about? Find a way to do what?”

She stared off over my shoulder, her eyes focused on something far away in the distance.

“A way to make the summer last for ever.”

She vanished back into the Garden before I could ask her what she meant. She was obviously hatching some plan, but it was never going to happen. Mum had enrolled me at the high school in Farnsbury before we’d even moved. It was supposed to be really good, miles better than my old school, but I was still dreading it. I’d found it hard enough when I started Year Seven and
everyone
was new – this time I’d be the
only
new girl.

Mum was already home when I got in. She was sitting at the table in her nightie, doing the puzzle. I was so relieved to see her, I rushed over and hugged her tight. She was still wearing her furry boots, but when I asked her why, she looked down, surprised, as if she hadn’t even noticed she had them on.

I made her a cup of tea and we chatted for a bit, just about the weather and the washing-up. She was trying to fit a tiny piece of red into the field of poppies, but her hand was trembling slightly and she couldn’t quite work out where it should go.

“I don’t know why Stella bought me such a difficult puzzle,” she said, tapping the tiny piece on the table over and over, until I reached across and took it away from her.

“I’ll just make a start on the dishes,” I said, “and then why don’t we sit down together with the paper and have a look through the jobs section?”

Mum shrugged. “I’ve already looked, Becky. There’s nothing in there. Nothing.” She glanced up at me for a second, but her eyes were flat, as if someone had switched the lights off.

I got up anyway and put on Mum’s apron. It was red and white with a frill round the edge and way too big. It was difficult to know where to start. The kitchen hadn’t been cleaned properly for days and it was a state. I moved a pile of plates to one side to make some space by the sink and noticed a big white envelope tucked behind the toaster.

“What’s this?” I asked, holding it up to show her.

Mum turned round. “No idea,” she said vaguely. “It must’ve arrived earlier while I was out.” She turned back, blushing suddenly, as if she’d just realized she was still in her nightie and that I wasn’t supposed to know she’d been out in the first place.

Inside the envelope there was an invitation to little Albert’s christening. It was printed on thick, cream card with two tiny blue feet in the middle and a silky blue ribbon at the top. I read it out to Mum.

“Julie and Robin would love you to attend the christening of their son, Albert Jonathan Jackson.” Robin was Mr. and Mrs. Jackson’s son. He lived about half an hour away but they’d decided to have the christening at Oakbridge church.

“I’m not going,” said Mum, when I’d finished reading out all the details. She was animated suddenly, her eyes flashing.

“But we’ve
got
to. Mr. and Mrs. Jackson will be really upset. It’s their first grandchild, and they’re so excited.”

“I don’t care. I don’t even know Julie and Robin, I’ve only met them once. Why can’t people just leave me alone?”

“What do you mean?”

She was getting worked up, clenching and unclenching her fists. “That’s why I left in the first place. Everyone staring. Everyone
knowing
. How was I supposed to carry on?”

“Everyone knowing what? You’re not making any sense.
Please
, Mum, everyone knowing
what
?”

She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry, Becky, really I’m so sorry. I only meant everyone knowing my business, that’s all – but I’m not going to the christening, I really don’t want to, and that’s that.”

I knew she wouldn’t change her mind either. She was as stubborn as Rosa May when she wanted to be. I turned back to the sink to start the washing-up. It was getting harder and harder to imagine how Mum was going to sort herself out. She’d been low before – there were times in our old house when she’d moped about in her dressing gown for a few days, or put herself to bed for the weekend with a migraine – but I’d never seen her as bad as this.

I wasn’t sure whether to leave her by herself the next morning. I was scared she might wander off again, or do something stupid – she was so out of it. I was still in the kitchen, deciding what to do, when Stella turned up.

“Mum’s still in bed,” I said, letting her in. “She’s been acting really weird, especially in the last day or so. Not just sleeping a lot, other stuff as well. She said something yesterday about everyone staring at her, as if she’s too scared to go out. I honestly don’t know what to do any more.”

Stella pulled me into her arms and gave me an enormous hug. “Don’t worry, Becky, my love. We’ll soon have her back on her feet. Your mum and I have helped each other through some pretty sticky times in the past, you know.”

It was so nice to have a cuddle. I snuggled in even closer, breathing in her lovely sunny smell. “Can I just ask you something, Stella? What did you mean the other day, when you were talking to Mum and you said that I had a right to know? I heard you, as I was coming in.”

She sighed heavily, shaking her head. Then she pulled away, holding me by the shoulders. “I’m really sorry, Becky, but it’s not for me to tell you that. You’ll have to ask your mum when she’s feeling a bit stronger.”

“But it’s so frustrating. She won’t tell me anything about my dad, or her life before she left Oakbridge. You don’t know what it’s like.”

“I can’t even imagine how hard it must be for you, but it’s really got to come from her...”

“But...”

She held her hand up. “No more buts! Come on, we’ve got work to do.” She grabbed a few things out of the fridge and somehow rustled up an omelette and toast and some freshly squeezed orange juice, laying it all out nicely on a tray. “It’s so much better to tackle things on a full stomach,” she said, winking at me. “That’s what I always say to my Mack – not that he needs much encouragement.”

It was weird hearing her talk about Mack. I couldn’t stop thinking about the other day, wondering if he’d call. Wondering what he meant when he said we had
all summer
.

“Are you coming up then?” said Stella, heading for the stairs.

I shook my head. I didn’t want to hang about to see if Mum was up to
tackling things
, as Stella put it. As soon as she disappeared up the stairs, I slipped out to see Rosa May.

Nothing much happened over the weekend. Rosa May wouldn’t say anything else about her big plan to make the summer last for ever, just that she was working on it. We didn’t spot the Silver-studded Blue, but neither did anyone else. Stella came by a lot. She did some shopping, and cooked us some proper meals, singing along to the radio at the top of her voice. And Mum spent most of the time in bed, sleeping, but Stella said that was okay, that she needed to build up her strength.

I loved it when Stella was there, busy in the kitchen, dancing around as if she was at a disco. It was the only time the house felt like a proper home. I was dying to know if Mack had told her we’d been swimming together. I nearly blurted it out a couple of times but I was worried she might discuss it with Mum.

I must’ve checked my phone about five hundred times an hour, hoping that he’d text me. I replayed our afternoon at the pool over and over, analyzing every word, every look, trying to work out if he liked me, or if he’d only suggested we hang out because Stella had asked him to.

On Sunday night they announced a hosepipe ban on the news. No one was allowed to water their gardens or wash their cars using a hosepipe until further notice. Forty-three days had passed since it last rained. It was so hot the motorways were beginning to melt. Mr. Jackson said it was all our own fault for making such a whacking great hole in the ozone layer.

“That’s what’s done it,” he said on Monday morning, as I wandered by on my way to meet Rosa May. “We’ve only ourselves to blame for not looking after God’s planet the way He intended. It’s the likes of our Albert I worry about. What sort of state is the world going to be in when he grows up?”

I thought about my dad, out there somewhere, trying to look after the environment. I could just imagine him up in the sky, fixing the hole in the ozone layer with a giant plaster, or maybe sewing it back together with a supersized needle and thread. I asked Mr. Jackson if he believed the hole would ever shrink or disappear, but he shook his head as if it was far too late to put things right.

I didn’t hear from Mack until later that day. He’d spent the weekend with his dad, at some out-of-town racing track, and he wanted to know if I’d go swimming with him the following morning. I said yes without thinking. I was going to suggest we do something else,
anything
else, but I was so excited he’d called, the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I still didn’t really get why he was so keen to hang out with me. Maybe Rosa May was right and he was just bored because it was the summer holidays and there was nothing much else going on.

We arranged to meet outside the Jacksons’ at ten. “I haven’t forgotten what you promised last time,” he teased, just before we said bye. “About putting your feet down.”

My tummy tightened. “That was last time,” I muttered. “I’m not promising anything.”

I talked non-stop all the way to Farnsbury. I think it was nerves. Not just about swimming, but the fact that we were going by ourselves this time – it somehow felt more like a date. I told him about the wildlife photography course I’d done at my old school, and how I’d been spending loads of time at the Butterfly Garden.

“It’s such a beautiful place! I’ve been able to take some great shots and my friend Rosa May and I have been searching for a very rare butterfly called the Silver-studded Blue. She’s a brilliant swimmer actually,” I babbled on. “She does all these crazy stunts in the water but they scare me half to death.” I didn’t know what I’d do if we actually bumped into Rosa May. She’d be so upset that I was seeing Mack behind her back,
and
going swimming with him.