Cassie (17 page)

Fern

It took longer than expected to prise Cassie from the computer. For a few moments, Fern was worried Cassie would throw another tantrum. She didn't think she had the energy to fight that, though as a last resort she was prepared to put her foot down. Her daughter had barely been off the damn machine all weekend and she was pasty and tired. Getting out would do her good. And maybe Ivy was right. A film, particularly one with Mr Bean whom Cassie loved, might be a welcome break.

Even so, Fern wished her sister had discussed it with her first. She didn't like the idea that Holly might view Cassie as part of a punishment. Things were difficult enough already. But it was too late now. Ivy had presented it to both of them in the bedroom. And it would be cruel to stop Cass going on a point of principle. Still . . .

At least Cass seemed to be giving the hearts program a break. Fern thought she'd scream at the sound of yet another heart popping. Whatever Cass was working on now was beyond her. There was a keyboard on the screen and another couple of windows open. Apart from that, it was a mystery. Eventually, Cass was persuaded to shut down the computer. She had to save what she was doing and that took ten minutes. Finally, she was ready. Fern pushed her into the sunshine and then into the car.

Holly

Holly finished work at five. As soon as she had balanced her till, she went to the ladies' to get changed. She hadn't brought her new dress. She wasn't that desperate. But she'd put jeans and a new top into a plastic shopping bag, along with the new make-up. True, it wasn't a date with Raph McDonald, but why not look her best? Her hair had flattened out after a couple of days of washing it, and it resembled a limp mop. So she put in some matt wax she'd bought at the hairdresser's suggestion. If Demi had been there, she would have been transformed in a minute or two. After fifteen minutes, though, Holly was pleased. She didn't look as good as she had on Friday night – she'd
never
look as good as she had on Friday night – but the results weren't bad. She practised a smile in the mirror. Not hot. She couldn't say hot. But definitely this side of warm.

Amy was waiting for her as she left the ladies'.

Holly attempted to brush past, but Amy stepped in front of her. She seemed stunned at her friend's appearance, but quickly recovered.

‘Holly, please. I need to talk to you.'

‘But I have nothing to say to
you
, Amy. Nor am I interested in your pathetic apologies. Now get out of my way.'

‘I'm not here to apologise.'

Holly felt a surge of anger. A tic pulsed at the corner of her eye.

‘Yet another reason why I don't want to talk to you.'

‘Hol, please. Just give me two minutes.'

Holly glanced at her watch. It was nearly five-thirty.

‘I am meeting a friend, Amy. You wouldn't understand anything about that. I have to go.'

This time, when she brushed past, there was no resistance. Holly took a few paces into the cinema foyer.

‘It's about Demi Larson. She's using you.'

Holly, stopped, turned and retraced her steps. Amy stood her ground.

‘I overheard them talking, Holly. You're just a game to them. A project. They laughed at you, Hol.' Amy's voice broke and she choked back a sob. ‘They laughed at you.'

Holly put her hands on her hips. The silence stretched.

‘You know something, Amy? You're pathetic. You are a sad, pathetic, lonely person.'

‘Holly . . .'

‘And jealous. That's what all this is about. Jealousy. You can't stand it that I am changing, that I am finding new friends.'

‘It's not like that.'

‘Stick to your books, Amy. It's all you'll ever be good at.'

This time, when Holly left, Amy did nothing to stop her. She watched as Holly walked over to where Fern, Ivy and Cassie had entered the foyer.

‘Sorry we're late, chicken,' said Ivy, panting a little. ‘Had trouble getting Cass separated from the computer. Had to use a crowbar, didn't we kiddo?'

Cassie screeched and twisted in her chair.

‘Are you sure you don't mind, Hol?' asked Fern.

‘Not a problem.'

‘Do you want me to wheel her into the cinema?'

‘That's okay,' said Holly. ‘We'll be right. You guys do some shopping. The movie finishes at seven-fifteen, so we'll see you here.'

Holly

My name is Holly Holley and I am angry and nervous.

I wheel Cassie down to the designated disability area – about three rows from the front. No drama. The cinema is only about half full. I park her in the space between two rows and take the seat next to her. It's strange not having drinks and popcorn, but I figure it'll be too difficult, and distracting, to feed Cass, particularly in the dark.

I am not looking forward to the movie. It's not that I
mind
Mr Bean. He can be pretty funny. But it's not the kind of thing I want to watch again and again. I only saw it two weeks ago. Anyway, seeing Amy has soured my mood.

Cassie screams with laughter as soon as Mr Bean's face appears on screen. He hasn't even done anything, just looks around with that rubbery, vacant expression. The noise is like a siren going off in my ear. I jump about a metre in my chair and then glance over my shoulder. This is going to be embarrassing. If Cass thinks this is funny, I dread to think how she's going to react when the plot gets going.

I don't have to wait long to find out. In the opening scene, Mr Bean is in the back seat of a taxi, playing with the electric windows. The cab pulls up and he gets out, catching his tie in the window as it hums closed. The taxi takes off down the street with Mr Bean running beside it, his face pressed and distorted against the glass. I remember laughing the first time. Now I flinch.

Cassie doubles over in her wheelchair, shrieking. I can't think of another word that does justice to the noise she produces. Laughter is usually infectious. Not in this case though. Not when you're in a cinema with dozens of people behind you and you're sitting next to someone making more noise than a heavy metal concert. I hear tutting and a few hisses for silence.

‘Hey, Cassie,' I whisper. ‘You need to keep the noise down a bit. People will complain.'

I think she tries. It's difficult to tell. She certainly stops laughing when I say that. Her face is bathed in screen light. Her eyes are wet, and distorted images from the film flicker across them. I smile and squeeze her arm in encouragement.

It's Mr Bean's attempt to try on a new suit that really does the damage. He gets his arms into the wrong holes and splits the back of the jacket. Then he snags a part of himself on his zip, and his mouth forms a perfect O of pain and surprise. Cassie's screams drown out all other noise. I make a grab for one of her hands but they are moving too quickly. Alarm is like a physical lump in the pit of my stomach. Then I feel a tap on my shoulder.

The woman isn't nasty. In fact, she is very polite.

‘Could you get her to keep the noise down, love?' she says.

‘I can't hear myself think back there.'

‘I'm sorry,' I say. ‘She's disabled.' I want to take the words back as soon as I say them, but it's too late.

‘That's as maybe,' says the woman. ‘But I've paid to see this film. And hear it. I'm entitled to some consideration.'

Just for a moment, I feel anger stirring. Cass is entitled to consideration as well. And it isn't like the soundtrack is important to a Mr Bean movie. As long as your eyes work, you can stick ear plugs in and still enjoy it. I want to say this.

I don't.

‘I'm sorry,' I say again. ‘I'll try to keep her quiet.'

‘Tomorrow,' said Fern. ‘I'm looking tomorrow.'

‘But why?'

Fern swirled the wine round in her glass, but didn't drink. ‘You know as well as I do, sis.'

‘I don't. You have a place to live.'

‘Oh, come on, Ivy. This thing with Holly. The two of you at each other's throats. You don't have to be a genius to work out why. All the . . .' Fern waved her arms helplessly, ‘. . . disruption. We are . . . not a good influence. It's time for us to go.'

Ivy shook her head.

‘That's nonsense, Fern, and you know it. It's nothing to do with you and Cassie. You said it yourself. “She's trying on adult clothes.” You can't seriously think she'll turn into an angel just because you leave. Come on, Fern. You're tired, you're stressed. Give me and Hol a chance. And give yourself a break.'

Fern cupped her hands around her glass and bowed her head.

‘What?' she said. ‘Put myself in the front seat for a change? Can't be done, sis. The front seat's Cassie's. Always will be. And nobody seems to understand that but me.'

Holly

Holly knew they were coming.

She didn't hear them. She didn't see them. But she sensed their presence. Cassie must have known they were coming as well, because her laughter choked and died moments before a hand thumped down on Holly's shoulder and twisted her round in her seat.