Butterfly Summer (14 page)

“You’ll be doing stunts soon,” said Mack. “You’re my star pupil, don’t forget!”

“Your
only
pupil,” I reminded him, laughing. “And I will
not
be doing any stunts!”

The leisure centre still felt familiar, but not quite in the same eerie way as it had the other day. The smell was just as bad and the noise was deafening but I suppose I was more prepared. I stood in the reception area, looking around, searching for clues – anything that might explain why I was so sure I’d been there before. The trouble was, it was just a feeling, not a proper memory that I could catch hold of.

Mack didn’t waste any time chatting, or showing off his brilliant butterfly stroke like last time. It was straight down to business. As soon as we were changed and sitting on the side of the pool, he jumped into the water and then turned back towards me, clasping me under the arms and lowering me in with him, so I was clinging onto him with my legs around his waist like before.

It was cold and scary and I had to stop myself from squealing like a baby. I started to tremble all over, but I wasn’t sure if that was because I was in the water, or in Mack’s arms.

“Don’t let go,” I said, my teeth chattering. “I
am
going to put my feet down but you’ve got to swear you won’t let go of me straight away.”

“I swear,” said Mack seriously. “I’d cross my heart, but if I did I might drop you!”

We stood there bouncing for a bit longer and then screwing up all my courage, I took the deepest breath and uncurled my legs from around Mack’s middle. It was the strangest feeling, like being in space. My legs floated up and I had to push them down against the water, feeling for the bottom of the pool with my feet. Very slowly, I released my grip on Mack’s shoulders.

“Look, Mack, I’m standing,” I gasped. “I can’t believe it. I’m actually standing up on my own in a swimming pool.”

The bottom of the pool felt solid and safe. Not how I’d imagined it at all. Mack smiled and held my hands, and we faced each other, bouncing slightly.

“Now for lesson number two,” he said, grinning.

“What do you mean? This
is
lesson number two.”

He shook his head. “Uh-uh. Standing on your own was the end of lesson number one. Lesson number two involves bunny hops.”

“
What?
”

“Bunny hops,” he repeated. “We’re going to bunny hop across the middle of the pool and back again.”

“No way. I don’t want to. I’m getting out.” I turned towards the steps, trying to drag Mack with me.

“Hey, calm down, Becky. We’ll get out in a minute, but first of all we’re going to hop. It’s not proper swimming, it’s just hopping. Like a rabbit.”

“
Like a rabbit?
R-r-rabbits don’t even like water,” I stuttered, my teeth beginning to chatter again.

But Mack wasn’t listening. He was pulling me towards him, hopping backwards so that I had to hop forwards if I wanted to keep hold of his hands. We went all the way across to the other side and then Mack turned me round and we came back, bouncing along like a couple of bunnies. I concentrated very hard, holding onto his hands as tightly as I could, especially in the middle when the sides seemed a million miles away.

“How impressive is this?” cried Mack. “A week ago you’d never set foot in a pool and now look at you. You’ll be swimming the Channel next.”

“
Me?
Swimming the Channel?”

“Well, maybe not
swimming
it, but you could always try hopping across. They’ll make a programme about it:
Becky Hops the Channel.
You’ll be famous!”

“I don’t want to be famous,” I said, laughing. “Not for hopping, at any rate!”

We’d just about got back to where we started when Mack let go of one of my hands to wave at someone walking along the side of the pool towards us. I grabbed hold of him, terrified he was about to swim off.

“Don’t panic, it’s just my dad.” As the man got closer, I could see he was tall and broad with very short brown hair. He was wearing a blue tracksuit and a blue and red baseball cap.

“This is Becky,” said Mack. “I’m teaching her to swim. Becky, this is my dad, Colin.”

Colin crouched down by the side of the pool. “Hello, Becky,” he said. “It’s nice to see you again after all these years.”

“W-w-hat do you mean?” I stammered. “I’ve never met you before in my life.”

“Of course you have,” he laughed.

I froze, still holding onto Mack. It was as if all the noise had been sucked from the air, until the only sound I could hear was my heart slamming against my ribs.

“In fact the last time I saw you, you were right here, in this pool, clinging onto your dad and looking just about as scared as you do now!”

It was lucky Mack was holding me because everything started to spin.

“I haven’t got a dad,” I whispered. “I’ve never met him. You must be mixing me up with someone else.”

Colin looked confused. He shook his head, rubbing his chin. “It was a long time ago, Becky. You were only a toddler...”

“It. Wasn’t. Me,” I repeated very slowly, as if he was stupid. But somewhere deep inside I think I knew it
was
me. It didn’t make sense, but then nor had anything else since I’d arrived in Oakbridge.

Mack seemed just as confused as his dad. He lifted me out of the pool and I sat on the side in a puddle of cold water, my arms wrapped around my knees.

“I’ve g-got to g-go,” I said. “I’ve g-got to g-go straight home.” My teeth were chattering so badly I could hardly speak.

Mack pulled himself out of the water and hurried round the pool to get my towel. Colin followed him and when he caught up they stood there talking, their heads close together. I watched them from where I was sitting. Mack shifted from one foot to the other, shrugging with his palms up. He glanced back at me and shrugged again. They talked for another minute and then Colin strode off, disappearing into an office at the side of the pool, through a door that said
Staff Only
.

I don’t know how I managed to get changed. I was shaking all over and I couldn’t make my arms and legs work properly to get my clothes on. How could Colin know me? How could he have seen me with my dad? It had to be a mistake – either that or Mum had lied to me about
everything
. I’d spent most of my life trying to find out why my dad wasn’t around, but it felt much safer, suddenly, to imagine he’d been off in the rainforest fixing the planet, rather than right here at Farnsbury leisure centre.

“What was all that about?” said Mack when I came out to the front. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “It’s just that my mum left Oakbridge before I was born. That’s what she’s always told me – that I never met my dad – but now I’m not so sure.”

“Well, my dad says he’s certain he remembers you when you were a little girl, but he refused to say anything else. He didn’t mean to upset you, Becky.”

“I know, it’s not his fault. I just need to talk to my mum.”

We wandered down the road to the bus stop. “What are you going to do?” said Mack. “Are you going to tell her what he said?”

“I really want to, but it’s complicated. My mum’s been in such a state since she walked out on her job, and there’s other stuff...” I hesitated, biting my lip. Mack was so easy to talk to, but I didn’t want to pour out my entire life history. We were supposed to be having a laugh, but it had all turned so heavy.

“Well, I definitely think you should tell her,” said Mack quietly. “When my mum and dad broke up they tried to hide things from me because they thought it would be for the best, that I wouldn’t notice what was going on, but I just ended up thinking it was all my fault and that they were splitting up because of me.”

“But why would my mum say she left Oakbridge when she was pregnant with me if she didn’t? Why would she lie about that?”

“I don’t have a clue,” said Mack, “but whatever the reason, it’s always better to know the truth.”

I repeated that one line to myself all the way back to Oakbridge.
It’s always better to know the truth. It’s always better to know the truth.
I said it so many times it stopped making sense – it was just a string of random words. Mack chatted away, telling me all about his mum and dad getting divorced – about how Colin used to stay out late every night and see other women and about how he owed money to loads of different people – but it was impossible to concentrate. I knew I had to ask Mum the truth, but it suddenly seemed as if the truth might be so totally unbelievable, it would be like walking through a door into a completely different world.

I left Mack outside the Jacksons’ and ran down to the Butterfly Garden to try and clear my head before I went home. I remembered what Rosa May had said when I told her about finding the photo – that if Mum had managed to keep a baby secret for so many years she might be keeping all sorts of other secrets from me too. She was waiting for me at our special shady spot, holding a long daisy chain.

“Look what I made for you, Becky,” she called out as I ran towards her. “It took me ages and ages. It kept breaking.” She jumped up to fasten the chain around my neck. I could feel her breath in my hair. It was such a relief to see her.

“How’s your mum today? Is that why you’re so late?”

I nodded, turning round to give her a hug. “She’s worse than ever. And you were right, she’s hiding all sorts of stuff from me. Stuff that happened years ago when I was a little girl.” I had to be careful. I couldn’t tell her about Colin or she’d know I’d been swimming with Mack. I hated keeping it from her, but I couldn’t face another scene.

“You haven’t told her about finding the photo have you?”

I shook my head. “No, I haven’t said anything. Not yet.”

“What do you mean, ‘
not yet
’? Are you planning to ask her about it then?”

“Not about the photo, not while she’s in such a fragile state, but I do want to know about my dad.” I blinked back tears. It was beginning to sink in
.
Colin had actually
seen
me with my dad. If he was right, if he really had seen us together at the pool, then my dad must’ve left
after
I was born, not before. And suddenly it came to me, flashing in front of my eyes like a massive neon sign: Mr. Jackson’s crossword clue from all those weeks ago.
To cast away, leave or desert
, seven letters, first letter
A
. It was
Abandon
. A needle of pain pierced deep into my heart. My dad had abandoned me.

I thought about how I’d scratched my name into the window sill the night before we moved,
just in case
. The
real
reason I’d been so desperate to leave my mark. Clinging to the hope that he was out there, searching for me, when he’d probably known where I was all along.

Rosa May was stroking my hair. “Does your mum ever talk about the past at all?” she said. “Has she told you
anything
about her old life in Oakbridge?”

“Not really,” I said, feeling shaky. “I mean, I know she met my dad here when she was really young and that she was best friends with Stella, but that’s it.” I stood there in Rosa May’s arms, feeling weak, as if my muscles had turned to water. I didn’t know if it was the shock or the heat or both of them combined. I just wanted to lie down in the grass and go to sleep until everything was back to normal.

“I
hate
your mum,” said Rosa May suddenly, spitting the words out like bullets.

I pulled away shocked. “What do you mean? You don’t even know her.”

She turned scarlet, her face burning up. I think it was the first time I’d ever seen her embarrassed. “I know enough,” she said. “It’s a small village, Becky. People talk.”

“What people? What do you mean?”

“Just people,” she muttered, and then jumped up before I could ask her what she was talking about. “I’m going for a swim if you want to join me,” she called over her shoulder. But I shook my head, more confused than ever. Rosa May was the closest friend I’d ever had, but sometimes it felt as if I didn’t know her at all.

I left the Garden while she was still swimming. I knew she’d be upset, but I was determined to talk to Mum and I had to get home before I lost my nerve. I’d asked her about my dad so many times, but I wasn’t going to let her wriggle out of the conversation or twist things round this time. I’d tell her what Colin said, and then, when she was feeling stronger, I’d tell her I’d seen the photo. I needed to know about the past, about what happened before I was born; however difficult it was.

Mrs. Jackson was standing in the doorway of the shop, holding a baby in her arms.

“Come and meet our Albert,” she called out. “He’s five months old today!” Albert blew a raspberry and buried his face in Mrs. Jackson’s shoulder.

“Oh, he’s so sweet,” I cried, reaching up to stroke his head. It was smooth and soft, like velvet. “Thank you for the invitation to the christening. I’ll definitely be there, and hopefully Mum too.”

Her face broke into a smile. “Oh, that’s lovely. At least it’ll be cool in the church, eh.” She shifted Albert round so he was facing me. “Are you feeling okay, Becky? You’re ever so pale.”

“I’m fine, I’m just a bit tired,” I said, anxious to get home. I tickled Albert under the chin and he reached for my finger, squeezing it tight.