Butterfly Summer (16 page)

“I don’t know,” I said, shrinking back. “I just wanted to find out the truth. There are so many secrets. It’s driving me mad.”

“How is she now? Is she going to be okay?”

I nodded. “The doctor said he’s running some tests but she should be coming home today or tomorrow at the latest. Stella stayed last night and she’s taking me up to the hospital at twelve. I’ll have to get going in a sec.”

Rosa May looked stricken. “Don’t go yet, you’ve only just got here.” She sat down next to me in the grass. “Hey, you’ll never guess what happened yesterday, after you left. There was this woman here with her two children and they said they’d spotted a Silver-studded Blue. It was the big news of the day. Everyone was talking about it.”

“I don’t believe you.” My palms were clammy suddenly. I couldn’t bear it if someone else had spotted the Silver-studded Blue first, not with Mum so ill in hospital. It was only an old wives’ tale, a stupid myth, but I couldn’t help feeling that if I was the first to spot the Silver-studded Blue this summer, then I’d know for sure that my dad was on his way home to see me. And I needed him now more than ever before.

“It’s true,” said Rosa May. “They took photos and everything. You should’ve seen Maggie and Jean, they were beside themselves with excitement! But in the end, after all the fuss, it wasn’t a Silver-studded Blue at all, it was an
Adonis
Blue.”

“How do you know?” My voice was shaking. “Did you see the photos? Are you sure?”

“Positive. The Adonis Blue is similar and it’s really beautiful, but it’s not that rare. I’ve seen loads.”

“So you mean we still might find the
first
Silver-studded Blue?”

“We
are
going to find it first. I promised, didn’t I?” She laced her fingers through mine, squeezing tight. “I never break my promises, Becky. You should know that by now.”

We lay back in the grass together, gazing up at the sky. It was warm and peaceful and safe. Rosa May stroked my hair and murmured to me in a soft, hypnotic voice. I tried to sit up a few times but she pulled me back down into the grass. I was so tired after everything that had happened. There was so much I didn’t understand. My eyes started to close. If I stayed right here, I might spot the first Silver-studded Blue, and then I’d know my dad was on his way home to put things right, to help my mum get better. I could feel my worries float away, melting into the early morning mist.

As I drifted off to sleep I thought I heard Rosa May say, “There’s no need to go anywhere now, Becky. This is where you belong. Right here in the Butterfly Garden.”

I woke up drenched in sweat. My mouth was dry and it was difficult to swallow. I knew without looking at my watch that I was late – I could tell by where the sun was in the sky. I dragged myself up. I had to get to the hospital to see Mum. I looked around for Rosa May, but she’d gone. I wish she’d woken me before she left, but she probably thought I needed the sleep after everything that had happened.

It seemed to take for ever to get back. Stella was outside the cottage, leaning against her car with her phone in her hand.

“Becky, where were you?” she called out. “I’ve left loads of messages – I was really worried.”

I ran up to her. “I’m so sorry, Stella. My phone was turned off. It’s not too late to go, is it? I really need to see Mum.”

“No, it’s fine. Come on, we’ll pop up now and find out what’s going on.”

She got in the car and reached across to unlock the door on my side. “Why did you disappear like that, Becky? I know you’re upset about your mum but I keep telling you, it’s not your fault.”

“It wasn’t that. I just went to meet my friend to tell her what happened and we were lying in the grass talking and I dropped off to sleep. I was so tired, I hardly slept last night. Please don’t be cross, Stella, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

She rolled her eyes, grinning. “Of course I’m not cross. I’m not in any great hurry to get back to work so you’ve done me a favour really.”

We drove on for a bit in silence. I glanced at Stella. She was such a good friend to Mum and she’d been so lovely to me, but I knew at some point she’d have to go home to Mack. I wasn’t joking when I’d said to Pam yesterday that it had only ever been me and Mum. Having Stella around, singing and dancing, cooking proper meals and cleaning up afterwards, normal stuff like that, made me realize just how lonely my life with Mum could be.

“I’ve been thinking about my dad,” I blurted out suddenly. My mouth was so dry that the words felt sticky, as if they were coated in glue. “Do you think he’d ever look after me, if Mum was too weak to manage, or if she had to stay in hospital for a long time? He’s a conservationist, you know,” I added.

Stella smiled but she looked sad. “I know he is,” she said. “And I know your mum doesn’t like to talk about the old days, but he was a lovely man, your dad.”

“Really?” I stared at Stella, amazed. “Do you mean that?” My eyes filled with tears. “I was sure he must’ve done something awful to Mum. Hurt her in some way, and that’s why she left him.”

“Not your dad,” she said quietly. “He wouldn’t hurt a fly. He was the sort of man who would take an injured bird home in a box and nurse it back to health.”

“That’s like me,” I whispered. “I love animals too.”

Stella nodded. “I know, sweetheart. You’re just like him. In lots of ways.”

I tried to take in what she was saying. I had so many questions, so much I wanted to ask her, but we’d arrived at the hospital.

“Does he still live in Oakbridge?” I said quickly. “Do you know where he is? Do you ever see him?”

“No, my love, he left the village a long time ago, but if you want to know anything else you’ll have to ask your mum; I’ve said far too much already.”

Mum seemed so much better. She was sitting in a chair by her bed with a cup of tea, leafing through a magazine. Her eyes lit up as we came in and I rushed over to give her a hug.

“You look great,” I said. “Have they told you when you can come home? Is your blood pressure down? You won’t believe how clean the kitchen is – it’s sparkling! But we haven’t touched the puzzle, have we, Stella? We left that for you.”

Stella laughed. “Don’t bombard her, Becky. How are you, Trace? You gave us quite a scare.”

“I’m feeling much better,” said Mum. “To tell you the truth, I don’t actually remember much about what happened, it’s all a blur. I know I’d finished the poppies and that I was just about to make a start on the field, and then the next thing I remember is waking up here, wired up to all these machines.”

“Are you serious?” I said. “You mean, you don’t remember anything else?”

“Not at the moment, but the doctor said it might come back.”

I kneeled down by the chair, resting my head on her lap while she chatted to Stella. I hoped her mind would stay blurred for ever. I didn’t want her to remember a single word of what I’d said to her. The box was back under her bed and I was never going to mention it again. I was desperate to find out about my dad, especially after what Stella had said in the car, but I wasn’t going to ask Mum, not while she was so ill. Rosa May was right. Some secrets were better off left alone.

We were only there for a bit when a nurse came bustling in and asked us to leave. I was sure they’d let her come home with us but they said they wanted to keep an eye on her for one more night, just in case. Mum got quite teary, clinging onto me and begging me not to leave her.

“Come on, Tracy,” said Stella firmly. “You’re upsetting Becky. We’ll come and get you tomorrow. It’s only a few more hours.”

I gave her one last hug and ran out of the room before I started crying myself. I still felt as if I was to blame, whatever Stella said.

We went back up the next morning but it took ages to sort everything out. I started to wonder if they’d ever let her leave. She had to have her blood pressure checked again and then there were prescriptions to sort out and all these forms to sign.

“She needs lots and lots of rest,” the doctor said, while Mum was in the other room with the nurse. “I’d like to see her back here at the beginning of next week, but any headaches and she’s to come straight back in.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m going to look after her. I’ll do all the shopping and cooking and keep the house clean. She won’t have to lift a finger.”

“I’m sure you’ll do a splendid job,” he said, “but you’re very young to be caring for your mum. Are there any other family members who might be able to help out...?” He paused, looking over my head at Stella.

“I’ll be stopping by every day,” she said quickly. “To look after Tracy
and
Becky. I’m as good as family, aren’t I, Becky?”

I edged towards the door, nodding. “I’ll just go and find Mum now,” I said, anxious to leave. I didn’t want him to think we couldn’t manage.

The doctor bent his head close to Stella’s. “I’ve also suggested to Tracy that she go to her GP and ask for some counselling and maybe some medication for depression,” I heard him say quietly. “She’s very low and I think it might be helpful for her to talk to someone.”

A wave of frustration rolled over me. Mum might need to talk to someone but it was me she should be talking to, not a counsellor. I was so grateful to Stella for telling me about my dad, but I had even more questions now. If he was such a lovely, gentle man, why did he leave us? And why did Mum find it so difficult to talk about him? I couldn’t ask her, not after today. I only wish she felt able to tell me herself.

I hardly left the house over the next few days. The furthest I went was down to the Jacksons’ to buy milk and other bits and pieces we needed. Mrs. Jackson had heard about Mum being in hospital and she’d been busy cooking. The first day I dropped by, she’d made us some scones with home-made jam, and there was a delicious apple pie about to come out of the oven.

“I was baking anyway, what with the christening coming up, so a few more scones weren’t going to make any difference.” We were sitting in the kitchen behind the shop. It was small and hot and filled with the smell of buttery apples. The window sill was crammed with tomato plants and five jars of strawberry jam with pretty red and white checked cloths covering the lids.

“We heard the ambulance arrive,” Mrs. Jackson went on, bending down to check on the pie. There was a sudden burst of heat as she opened the oven door and my eyes started to water. She peered at me anxiously. “You must’ve had an awful shock, Becky, seeing your mum like that. Are you sure you’re okay? I know how hard it is when Mr. Jackson’s poorly.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Really. Mum’s happy to be home and Stella’s been helping out loads.”

Mum
was
happy to be home, to begin with. She made an effort to stay up the first evening, and we had a nice supper together. She even promised to come to Albert’s christening when Mrs. Jackson dropped the scones round. But by the next morning, her mood had plunged back down and it was a struggle to get her out of bed.

She spent most of the following few days sleeping, and when she did manage to get up, the only thing she seemed interested in was the puzzle. She’d sit at the table for hours, holding one tiny piece in her hand and moving it from place to place, trying to work out where it should go. She said it helped to take her mind off things, but I began to wonder if maybe the doctor at the hospital was right and she did need to see a proper counsellor.

Mack tried to get in touch a couple of times, but I couldn’t face talking to him or going for any more swimming lessons. I didn’t even go to the Butterfly Garden to see Rosa May. I was far too scared to leave Mum by herself. I knew Rosa May would be hurt; she wouldn’t understand. I could almost hear her voice in my head demanding to know where I was, but there was nothing I could do.

The days dragged by. It was hot and stuffy. I was tense, churned up, waiting for something to happen. It was like Mum was there but not there; I don’t think I’d ever felt so alone. At night, I sat in my airless room on my bed and wrote letters to my dad. I had no idea where he was or where I could send them, but I wrote them anyway. They were all slightly different, but the basic message was the same:

Dear Dad, it’s me, Becky. I know you’re off somewhere fixing the world, but please could you come home for a while and help me to fix my mum...

As the week went on, Mum seemed to shrink more and more inside herself. She was weighed down with sadness. I did everything I could to cheer her up, but it didn’t make the slightest difference. I’d chat away, making plans, trying to involve her, but she’d stare right past me as if I wasn’t there. I was just about to admit to Stella that I couldn’t cope on my own any more – that I needed help – when the day for Albert’s christening arrived.

And that’s when everything changed for ever.