Butterfly Summer (5 page)

I yanked my arm away and sat down. “I don’t want to right now. Anyway, I thought you were going to tell me about the Silver-studded Blue, remember?”

She flopped down next to me on the grass. “I’m so happy you’re here. I was sure you’d forget or find something better to do.”

“Of course I wouldn’t forget – but stop changing the subject! You promised you’d tell me, and the old lady in the shop mentioned it as well. So what is it? A butterfly?”

“Not
any
old butterfly,” she said dramatically. “The Silver-studded Blue is the rarest butterfly in the Garden. It only lives for two months a year, July and August.”

“So you mean we might find one this summer?”

“We might, but we’d have to be very lucky.” She lay back in the grass, spreading her wet hair out behind her. “There’s a story about the Silver-studded Blue. I don’t know if you’d call it a rumour or an old wives’ tale. Some people say it’s an ancient myth.”

I lay down next to her and we rolled in to face each other. Up close, she was so vivid I had to close my eyes for a second.

“What is it? What do they say?”

“They say that if you spot the first Silver-studded Blue of the summer then the person you love the most is on their way to see you. But...” She paused, looking serious for a moment. “If it lands on your shoulder, then that person has come to say goodbye for ever.”

My eyes widened. “No way! Has anyone spotted one yet this year?”

She sat up suddenly, staring out across the lake. “Not here at this Garden. I’ve been searching for years, every summer.”

“Let’s make it our mission then,” I said. “Let’s make a pact to spot the first Silver-studded Blue.”

Rosa May laughed. “Yes, let’s make a pact. A special promise.” She held up her hands and we laced our fingers together so that it was impossible to see where her hands started and mine ended.

“So who’s the person you love the most then, Becky?” she teased. “It’s not that boy Mack, is it?”

“Don’t be silly. I haven’t even met him yet.” I thought about showing her the note again, explaining about my dad and how he might still be living in Oakbridge. That maybe
he
was on his way to see me. Say the whole theory out loud to see if it felt as real and logical as it had last night in bed – but I couldn’t.

“We need to find out everything about the Silver-studded Blue,” I said instead. “Where they like to fly and which flowers they’re attracted to. I bet you know loads already, don’t you? Are they beautiful?”

“Very,” said Rosa May. “Deep blue with delicate silver edging around their wings, and more fragile than you can imagine.”

“Come on then, let’s get going straight away.” I pulled her up, excited. “Let’s cross the bridge and start at the back. I swear I saw a blue butterfly there yesterday, I think I took a photo of it...”

Rosa May skipped ahead, giggling. “There are loads of blue butterflies, Becky – all different species. The Common Blue and the Small Blue for a start.”

“How will we know if we see the Silver-studded Blue then?” I ran to catch up.

She grabbed my hand, smiling mysteriously. “We just will. Trust me.”

We spent the rest of the day searching for
ants
rather than butterflies. Rosa May explained that the female Silver-studded Blues always laid their eggs near to ants’ nests because the ants protected the butterfly eggs from predators. It was difficult to imagine how an ant could protect anything, but I really liked the idea of them keeping the eggs safe.

We started on the other side of the bridge where it was shady, crawling about on all fours in the long grass. Every few minutes one of us would shout, “
ANT ALERT!
” and we’d be off stalking the poor insects like a couple of mad detectives. I kept stopping to take photos. I loved the way the ants looked so busy, as if they knew exactly what they were doing and where they were going. Like they’d made up their minds long in advance and nothing was going to stand in their way.

“Look at these three,” Rosa May called out at one point. She was lying flat on her stomach, her chin resting on her hands. “I’ve been watching them for ages and they’re definitely together.” I crawled over and lay down facing her, so that our heads were touching. “I bet these two at the front are the parents and this one is their baby.” She pointed at the three ants. “Look how they keep stopping so that the baby can catch up. Did you know that ants are such social creatures they can’t actually live alone?”

“So what happens to them?” I asked, taking a picture of Rosa May and her little ant family. “What happens to the ones who get lost or separated from their colony?”

“They die,” she said, blinking suddenly as if she was going to cry. “Except for the really clever ones,” she added. “They
always
find their way back home.”

We didn’t get very far with our mission but we had a brilliant time. There was something about Rosa May. I know it sounds strange, but when I was with her, crawling through the grass or just lying on our backs, staring up at the sky, I felt charged up – almost as if there was an electric current passing between us. I was praying I’d be going to the same school as her in September – it would be amazing to start with a ready-made friend – but Rosa May didn’t want to talk about it.

“School’s for losers,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “Life’s way too exciting to be stuck indoors all day, learning a load of stuff you’ll never need to know!”

I stretched out in the grass, grinning. Hanging out with Rosa May made me feel as if my life might turn out to be exciting too. I’d always been the quiet one, the timid one, the one who watched everyone else having fun, but not any more.

We were still talking as the sun dropped in the sky. It was difficult to tear myself away, but I had to get home. I hadn’t left Mum a note or anything, but apart from that, I still needed to talk to her about the photo, however difficult it might be.

We agreed to meet at the Garden early the next morning. Rosa May said she had something special to show me. I pleaded with her to tell me what it was before I left, but she said I’d have to wait. “It’ll be worth it,” she promised, as we made our way over the bridge and across the field. “Just get here as early as you can.”

I hurried out of the Garden and back up Amble Cross, but the closer I got to home, the more uneasy I began to feel. I wasn’t sure why – I used to let myself in to an empty house all the time before we moved, but it felt different here, more lonely. I slowed down, taking tiny little pigeon steps as I passed the Jacksons’ shop. Mr. Jackson was out front doing his crossword again.

“Need any help?” I offered.

He shook his head. “I’ve just finished, thanks, Becky, although I never did get that clue I was stuck on yesterday!”

“What was it again?”

“Seven letters, first letter was A
. To cast away, leave or desert.
”

I stood there for a bit, as if I was trying to work it out. Anything to delay going home. “Sorry,” I said in the end, shrugging. “I bet it’s something really obvious, but my mind’s gone blank.” I waved goodbye and made my way up the lane to our house, praying Mum would be back even though I could see the car wasn’t there.

“I’m home,” I called, turning the key in the door. “Mum?” But the house was just as silent and empty as when I’d left.

Mum was still in bed when I got up the next morning. I made her a cup of tea and drew back the curtains but she burrowed further under the covers, muttering something about her head. She’d got back really late the night before, staggering through the door with a stack of files. I’d stayed up, determined to ask her about the photo,
and
about my dad – to find out if he knew we were back in Oakbridge – but she said she had a report to finish by the morning and that it was urgent. She didn’t even ask me where I’d been all day. All I could do was make a deal with myself to ask her in the morning instead.

I poured myself some cereal and sat in the kitchen, looking through the pictures I’d taken with Rosa May. I’d got some really good shots of a bright yellow butterfly resting against a jagged green leaf; I think she said it was called a Buttercup. And there was a great one of her little ant family. I was certain she’d been in the shot with them but she must’ve wriggled out of the way just before I took it. I smiled to myself, thinking about what a brilliant time we’d had.

After a while, I noticed the time – Rosa May would be waiting, but I had to talk to Mum before I left. I popped my head round her door, but she was still fast asleep. The room was hot and stuffy, thick with the smell of sleep.

“Come on, Mum.” I leaned over the bed to give her a shake. “Come on, you’re going to be so late. It’s nearly half nine.”

She shot up suddenly, kicking back the covers. “Oh my god, Becky! Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I did. I came in ages ago. I made you a cup of tea but it’s probably cold by now...”

She leaped out of bed, grabbing at her clothes. “This is a nightmare. I must’ve slept right through the alarm and it’s only my
third
day! What am I going to say? My head’s killing me. I was up doing that report for hours and then I started messing about with the puzzle... Hand me my hairbrush, would you?”

“Listen, Mum, I know you’re in a hurry, but can I talk to you for a minute? It’s really important...”

“Not now, Becky, for goodness’ sake, can’t you see how late I am? My brush!
Hand me my brush!
” She pushed her arm through her shirtsleeve, hopping into her skirt at the same time, pausing suddenly to look across at me. “What are you up to today?”

“Nothing special, just going down to the green...” I passed her the brush and backed out of the room before she could ask any more questions. I hated lying, but there was no way she’d let me go to the Butterfly Garden by myself, not if she knew about the lake.

It was such a sparkly day, as if the sun had turned everything it touched to gold. I couldn’t wait to see Rosa May, to find out what she wanted to show me. I practically ran the whole way. My talk with Mum would have to wait until the weekend, when she had more time. It was so frustrating but there was no point hassling her about my dad, or about the photo, when she was already in such a state about sleeping in.

“Oh hello, Becky,” said Maggie as I burst through the door to the Garden. “You’re in a hurry! Rush, rush, rush. We saw you taking lots of photos yesterday, wriggling through the grass. Did you get any good shots?”

“Loads,” I said. “I’d better go through though – I’m really late to meet my friend.”

“Don’t worry about that, you’re our very first visitor this morning. It’s always quiet first thing.”

I was about to explain that Rosa May always came in with her dad, and that they’d probably arrived much earlier than Maggie and Joan, but there wasn’t time. Joan was in the shop, holding out her little red stamp. She said she had something to show me, some prints of the Silver-studded Blue.

“You will tell us if you spot one, won’t you, dear? It’s ever so important.”

I promised I would and edged towards the back of the shop, anxious to get through the door and into the Garden before Rosa May gave up on me altogether.

She was waiting on the bridge when I finally got outside. There was a cloud of yellow butterflies above her head, and from a distance she looked like an angel with a golden halo. I was so relieved to see her. I knew we’d only been friends for a few days but I kept expecting her to realize suddenly, that I wasn’t quite as much fun as she’d first thought.

I’d never found it that easy to make friends, not with the really popular girls anyway. At my old school, some of them would be friendly as anything one week, and then completely blank me the next. I never understood why, or what the complicated rules of friendship were, but I somehow managed to break them without even trying. Laura was my only proper friend. We both loved photography which was great, but when it came to the other girls in our year – the cool girls – we were always on the outside looking in.

It was different with Rosa May. Not only was she the coolest person I’d ever met, but she seemed just as happy to see me as I was to see her. As soon as she spotted me by the entrance, she flew off the bridge, the halo of butterflies melting into the sky above her. We skipped through the field down to the shadiest area we could find, under some very tall trees, and lay back in the grass. It was warm and the air hummed with insects.

“Have you been here long? My mum overslept and I wanted to make sure she was okay before I left, and then I got stuck with Joan in the shop. What’s this special thing then? Remember, yesterday you said you had something special to show me.”

Rosa May shrugged as if it was no big deal. “I’ll show you later, I promise. But tell me about your mum first. Is she ill?”

“Not really,” I said, a bit disappointed – I so wanted to know what the surprise was. “Well, she said her head was hurting, but I think she’s just stressed about her new job. She was up really late finishing an urgent report, and then she slept right through her alarm.”

Rosa May sat up, clasping her hands around her knees. “I don’t know how anyone can sit in an office, especially on a beautiful day like this. I’m never going to get a job and go to work.”