Butterfly Summer (20 page)

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Authors: Anne-Marie Conway

BOOK: Butterfly Summer
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Rosa May gasped. She grabbed my arm and snatched the article out of my hand, flinging it in the water. Her eyes were wild, full of fury.

“Let go!” I said, but she dug her nails deeper into my wrist. “Let
go
, Rosa May, you’re hurting me.”

“So now you know,” she said, pushing her face into mine.

“Please, Rosa May...”

“Now you know all about your big sister. The
forgotten
sister! The one who was left in the lake!”

“It wasn’t like that.” I felt weak in her grip. I tried to lift my arm, to pull it away, but she was too strong.

“Who do you think you are anyway?” she hissed. “Stealing my mum away from me, stealing my
life
.” Her face was touching mine. It was twisted up, full of hate.

“You said your mum was dead. Why did you say that? None of this makes any sense.
None of it.

“She’s as good as dead to me,” she spat. “She left me in the water. She put you first, didn’t she? Her precious unborn baby. She
abandoned
me.” She tightened her grip. “
Why should you get to go out with boys? Start a new school? Live the life that I was supposed to live? What do you think it’s been like for me, trapped here for all these years? Trapped for twelve long, lonely years, while you’ve been out there living
my
life.
” Her voice was softer suddenly. “But it doesn’t matter any more, does it, Becky? Because we’re together now. You’re going to stay here with me like a good girl.”

“What do you mean?” She was still gripping my wrist. “You’re hurting me.”

“Becky and Rosa May. Together at last. I’ve been waiting for you for such a long time.”

“Let go, Rosa May,” I pleaded. “I don’t understand. You’re really scaring me.”


Becky!
” Mum was suddenly at the top of the field.


Mum!
” I tried to loosen Rosa May’s grip but she twisted my arm behind my back and bundled me off the bridge down to the other side of the lake.


Becky
!” Mum screamed. “
Get away from the lake
.”

I tried but I couldn’t. Rosa May was dragging me towards the edge. Pulling me along, forcing me into the water.

“You’ll never be able to leave me now,” she said, wrapping her arms right round me.

“Stop it,” I gasped. “I can’t swim.” The water was icy cold. The air flew out of my lungs. “Let go of me, Rosa May, please!”

Her voice was soft in my ear. “I told you I’d find a way to make the summer last for ever.”

I tried to dig my heels in, to push back against her, but it was useless. She was so much stronger than me. I felt limp in her arms. Helpless. She dragged me in deeper, down into the lake, until the water closed over my head.

It was cold and dark. Rosa May’s hair swirled around us in the silence. Weird pictures filled my head, playing out like a film...Rosa May, that first day she jumped in front of me, hands on her hips. Mack and I sitting in his den, playing noughts and crosses. Mr. Jackson’s crossword. Mum’s puzzle, broken up into hundreds of pieces. And my dad. I could see my dad, but I was little, maybe two, and he was holding me in his arms, keeping me safe.

A sound penetrated the silence. It was my name, muffled, far away. I heard it again. I kicked my legs, pushing my body up towards the sound, but Rosa May held me down. I kicked harder, straining to reach the voice, and we shot up, breaking the surface. The light was blinding. The air rushed into my lungs. I saw Mum – she was at the edge of the lake, screaming my name. The sound seemed to fill the entire Garden. Her voice was clear but her face was blurred. I tried to call out for help, but before I could form the words I was back underwater.

Panic filled every part of my brain; the pictures were gone. Rosa May was facing me now. I kicked again, harder, twisting my body away from her. My arms were free. I pushed against her, thrashing at the water. We rose up once more. I gulped at the air, looking for Mum, but she’d gone. Terror shot through me. I tried to swivel round, to see if she was further along the bank, but Rosa May’s grip was like iron and in seconds I was under again.

My mind was blank now. Rosa May’s arms tightened around me and after a few more feeble kicks I surrendered. It was calm, peaceful. The water was full of bubbles. There was something about bubbles – something Mack had said – but I couldn’t remember what it was and the thought dissolved in the water, floating away. I was drowsy, drifting off. No strength left to reach for the light above.

I heard a sound. The water moved around me, knocking against me, gentle at first, then rough. More sounds in the distance, too far away to mean anything. But then arms grabbing me; desperate, grasping arms, dragging me up to the light.


Becky!

It was Mum. Holding me. Pulling me.


Becky, look at me. I’ve got you. Becky, open your eyes. Wake up, Becky! Wake up!

Mum? In the water? Shaking me. I struggled to clear my head.


Hold onto me, Becky. Help me. It’s not deep. Come on, Becky. We’re almost out. Come on!

More arms. Hauling me up. Rolling me over. Light. Cold. Air.

I gasped, desperate for air. Big breaths. Deep, gulping breaths.

“Oh, Becky!” Mum was lying over me, sobbing. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Mum?” My voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. “Mum, I’m so cold.” My mouth filled up with water and I leaned over, coughing.

“Becky! Oh thank god! I thought I’d lost you. I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t live with myself. Not again.”

I clung on to her, still coughing. She was cold as well, shivering. Did she come in the water? Did she save me? There were other people, crowded round, leaning over.

“It’s okay,” said Mum. “Thank you for your help, but we’re okay now.”

She pulled me tight, rocking me against her as the faces melted away.

My body felt heavy, weighed down. I tried to take a deep breath, but I didn’t have the strength. We sat there, rocking, both of us too shocked to speak.

“What were you
doing
, Becky?” Mum said in the end. “What were you thinking?”

“It was Rosa May, Mum,” I croaked, my voice still hoarse. “She wanted me to come in the water. She’s been begging me to swim with her all summer, practically every day, but I was too scared. I’ve had a few lessons with Mack but I didn’t dare swim with Rosa May. She was wild, Mum. She would dive into the lake and stay under for ages. I hated it.” I struggled to sit up, terrified suddenly. “Where is she now? Is she still in the lake?”

“No, Becky,” Mum sobbed. “Please. There’s no Rosa May. Rosa May died a long time ago.”

“I don’t understand it either, Mum, but she’s in there, I swear. I know she’s dead, I get it, but she’s still in the lake. How long was I in the water? Two minutes? Three? Any second now, you’ll see.” I scanned the surface. It was completely still, but I knew her tricks.

“I’m serious, Mum.” I didn’t know how to make her believe me. “She dragged me in. You
must’ve
seen her. We’ve been together all summer, hanging out here, searching for the Silver-studded Blue. She told me about the ancient myth, that if you’re the first to spot a Silver-studded Blue then the person you love the most is on their way to see you, but if it lands on your shoulder then that person has come to say goodbye for ever...”


Stop it
, Becky! You’re rambling...”

“No I’m not, it’s all true. We were so close, but she didn’t want me to be friends with Mack. She was jealous. She wanted me all to herself.” I tried to get up, thrashing against Mum, frantic, but she pulled me back down. “Let go of me.
Let go!
We’ve got to find her!”

“No, Becky!” Mum tightened her arms around me so that I couldn’t move. “An ambulance is on its way. You’ve got to rest. Rosa May is
not
in the water. She died a long, long time ago. She’s not here. You’re safe.”

I shook my head, still straining to see the lake. She was wrong. I could feel Rosa May watching, waiting. “But I don’t understand,” I said. “I don’t understand anything.”

Mum stroked my hair. “It’s all my fault, I should’ve told you the truth right from the start. I made a terrible mistake. Your dad wanted me to tell you, so did Stella – they said you had a right to know, that it was the right thing to do – but I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it. I kept everything to show you, all the clippings and photos, but every time I tried to form the words, my head would start throbbing. I
wanted
to tell you, but I just couldn’t.”

“Tell me now,” I said weakly. “Tell me everything. But please, Mum, you must believe me. She
is
here.”

I leaned into her, safe for the minute, and she began to talk.

“Rosa May was always larger than life,” Mum started. “She was so different from your dad and me, we used to joke that they must’ve got her mixed up at the hospital, given us the wrong baby. She was bright and beautiful, perfect really, but she was in such a hurry to grow up. She wanted to run before she could walk. We struggled to keep up, to be honest. We were very young – I was only eighteen when I had her – but even so, she was always one step ahead of us and it was exhausting at times.

“She was brilliant at everything she did, but swimming was her passion. She was swimming by the age of two, you know. Your dad called her Fish. She swam for her school and for the county. They even said she might swim in the Olympics one day.

“We were so proud of her, Becky, she was doing so well, but then we found out we were expecting you. Rosa May was almost twelve by then, in her first year of secondary school and we thought she’d be thrilled. She’d been begging us for a sister for years, but we’d always joked that having her was like having a houseful of children already! We couldn’t wait to tell her – a sister at last – but she didn’t take it well at all. She was horribly jealous, convinced that we’d love the baby more than her. That we wouldn’t have enough love to share round.”

She stopped for a moment, hugging me close. I could sense Rosa May listening. Taking in every word. I couldn’t see her but I knew she was there.

“She started to act out,” Mum went on. “Picking fights with us, pushing the boundaries, staying out late without telling us where she was. She’d always been so driven, so determined to do well, but she began to miss her training. She said she couldn’t be bothered any more. Your dad really struggled with that. They’d always been so close and he was so proud of her. He couldn’t understand where his lovely little girl had gone. It broke his heart.”

“She told me how close they were,” I said, looking up at Mum. “She said they had a special connection.”

Mum took a deep, shaky breath and carried on as if I hadn’t spoken.

“Things got worse as the pregnancy went on. Perhaps we’d spoiled her, being an only child for so long. Or maybe it was just one change too many, after just starting secondary school and everything...I don’t know. I’ve tried to analyze it so many times, to understand why she found it so difficult to accept. She began to stay out for hours on end. She’d be down here by the lake, hanging out on her own. There was no Butterfly Garden back then, just some fields with the lake in the middle.

“That day, the day of the accident, she was supposed to be competing in a swimming gala. We’d planned to take her, cheer her on, but the doctor was worried about me. My blood pressure was high. He said he wanted me to go to the hospital for some tests and a scan and he scheduled it for that day. Stella offered to go and watch Rosa May instead, but she went mad. She said she didn’t want Stella, that we were putting the new baby first already. There was an almighty row and she stormed out.

“Your dad refused to go after her. He said he was tired of all the arguments. Worn out. But I came down here, to the fields, to see if I could talk her round. When she saw me, she started to play up even more, showing off, teasing me about how pathetic it was that I couldn’t swim.

“‘
Come and get me
,’ she kept taunting, and then she’d dive in the lake and stay under until I was frantic with worry. When she came up, she’d laugh as if it was the biggest joke. I begged her to come out of the water, to come home. I promised we’d change the hospital appointment, go for the scan the next day, that she could come with us, see her new baby sister. And finally she calmed down. She climbed out of the lake and we started to walk back, holding hands. I remember squeezing her hand – she squeezed mine back and I really thought at that moment that everything was going to be okay. She was going through a tough time, a bad patch, that was all. But then she turned round.

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