Casting Shadows (14 page)

I knew she was right. I didn’t say anything as we tramped through the chilly air back up to the house. Once inside, I went up to our room. Flynn was lying on the mattress, reading a book.
He sat up when he saw me.

‘Riv?’

There was such love and tenderness and concern in his eyes that my own filled with tears again. I walked over to him and lay down. We held each other for a minute. I laid my head on his chest
and let myself sink against him. His leather cord – and the tiny ‘R’ on the end of it – dug into my cheek.

‘I came to look for you but they told me to leave you alone for a bit. That you needed some time. So I waited here.’ Flynn stroked my hair. ‘Is everything okay?’

I closed my eyes. ‘Everything’s fine,’ I said.

‘I don’t have to apply to Oxford or Cambridge,’ he said. ‘I bet they’re full of idiots anyway.’

‘No.’ I looked up at him. ‘You should go for the courses you want,’ I said. ‘We’ll work it all out when we have to.’

Flynn gazed at me for a long time. Then he kissed my mouth. ‘You look so beautiful.’

I smiled. ‘So I guess when you go away to uni you’ll stop having counselling sessions.’

‘Man, I hope I can stop before then.’ Flynn made a face. ‘Your dad made me promise to go for a year which is up in March, if you include the one-to-one sessions I was doing
before we moved here. I know I have to do the therapy thing until then or he’ll kick me out of the commune but after that . . .’

I frowned, suddenly realising how weird it was that Flynn felt his home was conditional on attending weekly counselling. ‘I don’t think my dad would kick you out just for
that,’ I said. ‘I mean, where would you go?’

Flynn shrugged. ‘I guess I’d have to get a job and a flat like I’d planned before we came here.’

I lay still, thinking what that would be like. ‘Is it scary?’ I asked. ‘You know, worrying that if you do something wrong you’ll lose your home?’

‘Not really. It’s like . . . the commune isn’t my home. It’s just a building where I hang. And Mum’s house isn’t my home either, now.’

Isn’t it?’

‘Nah.’

‘So . . . so don’t you feel you have a home then?’

‘Course I do.’ Flynn leaned over me, sliding his fingers over my face, lowering his lips to my neck. ‘What d’you think you are?’

‘It’s still got a beautiful frame,’ I said, holding up a small, gilt-edged mirror.

‘But the glass is cracked,’ Flynn said.

Dad nodded. ‘He’s right. It’s trash, sweetheart. Pretty once. But useless now.’

I sighed and chucked the frame on top of the rubbish pile in the corner of the barn. It was the Wednesday afternoon before the party and Flynn and I had been clearing out the building since
Monday morning. The job was far bigger than anyone had reckoned and it was looking increasingly unlikely that we’d finish without additional help so Dad and Leo had volunteered to pitch in
along with Stone, who was visiting for a couple of days.

This was kind of Dad and Leo particularly, as they had already spent the entire morning creating a bin for leaf mould – the organic fertiliser that was formed from fallen leaves –
out of tree stakes and chicken netting.

‘Where on earth did all this stuff come from?’ Dad muttered for the hundredth time.

It was amazing the amount of stuff various members of the commune had left in here over the years. In addition to the broken chairs I had curled up behind the other day, we’d found a set
of warped tennis rackets, various board games half eaten by mice, several camping tables with the legs broken off, bits and pieces of furniture, clothes and baby toys, plus some old cans of
paint.

One of the reasons the clear-out was taking so long was that Flynn and I often disagreed about whether a particular item was still useful or not. If it was it went into a separate pile and had
to be stored away somewhere at the end of the day. Dad was partly here as arbiter between us and, so far, he’d taken Flynn’s side on virtually everything.

It was hard going. I pushed my hair out of my eyes and delved into the next cardboard box. It was full of mismatched screws and nails.

‘Rubbish,’ I announced, dragging the box across the floor.

Flynn took a peek inside. ‘No way, there’s some usable stuff in here.’

Dad strode over and cast his eye. ‘Yup. Plenty of life in these. Leo can take them up to the house. I’ll sort them out later.’

I rolled my eyes, stretching out the kinks in my back from all the bending over I’d been doing. As Leo left with the box, I looked around the barn. Dad, Stone and Flynn were now dragging a
grubby single mattress out from behind a pile of old curtains. There was still an entire wall to be cleared but – once we’d got rid of the rubbish pile – there’d be miles
more space in here than before.

We’d discovered a little alcove just to the right of the loft ladder which would be a perfect place to put the sound system. James had got some DJ friend of his brother to lend us his
equipment and was planning to bring it over on Saturday afternoon. Grace and Emmi were going to come with him so the three of us could get ready for the party together. It was going to be just like
old times. I couldn’t wait.

‘River?’ Flynn emerged from behind the grubby mattress, beaming from ear to ear. ‘There’s a massive pile of wooden furniture back here. It’s all broken and useless
but it’ll be perfect for the bonfire.’

‘Great,’ I said. I still wasn’t sure quite why Flynn was so excited about the bonfire. James and Stone had been too, so maybe it was a boy thing. I mean, I thought the bonfire
would be cool. But not
that
cool.

‘Well, you can’t burn this,’ Dad said, dragging the mattress towards the barn door. ‘I’m going to take it up to the bins. We’ll get the council to collect it
later.’

As he left the barn, the mattress trailing behind him, Leo walked back in. He looked tired, not even glancing in our direction as he went over to the shelf he was clearing. Flynn picked up a
pile of old curtain fabric. Dust swirled around him as he dumped the lot on the rubbish tip.

Stone, standing nearby, coughed, then drank some water from the bottle on the floor.

‘So you seeing your girl when you get back home?’ Flynn asked him.

I watched, amused, as Stone nodded and blushed. Even though he hadn’t visited the commune all that much over the past few months, he’d still spent quite a lot of time around Flynn.
It was obvious Stone had been a little intimidated at first but Flynn had made an effort to be friendly and the pair of them got on well now.

‘What’s she like, mate?’ Flynn went on.

‘Okay,’ Stone mumbled. He was trying to sound cool, to impress Flynn, I realised.

‘Only okay?’ Flynn laughed. ‘You can do better than okay, can’t you?’

‘I thought she was lovely,’ I said, coming to Stone’s rescue.

‘Lovely
and
okay.’ Flynn picked up the water bottle and took a large gulp. ‘Sounds a bit contradictory.’

‘I expect she’s beautiful,’ Leo interrupted from across the barn.

We all turned to look at him.

‘How would
you
know?’ An edge crept into Flynn’s voice.

Leo shrugged.

Ignoring them, I smiled at Stone. ‘So are you going to bring Anna to the party?’

‘I guess,’ Stone said, his cheeks now purple.

‘Course he is.’ Flynn chuckled. ‘Sorry, mate, I’m only teasing.’

Stone looked away but he was smiling and I sensed, as usual, that he didn’t really mind Flynn’s banter – that in fact he was flattered that Flynn had mentioned him having a
girlfriend.

Leo, on the other hand, was gazing at Flynn with hatred. He sensed me staring and caught my eye.

‘What is it?’ I said, genuinely bewildered. Flynn hadn’t said anything that harsh.

‘Nothing.’ Leo walked out of the barn.

‘What’s the matter with him?’ Flynn asked.

I shook my head, feeling troubled. ‘I don’t know.’

The rest of the week passed in a rush. We worked late into the night on Friday, finishing our clear-out of the barn. While Flynn, Ros, Dad and Leo moved everything we were
allowed to burn from the rubbish heap to the spot designated for the bonfire, Gemma helped me string fairy lights around the barn walls. We covered everything that was staying inside with
tarpaulins and stood a couple of paraffin lamps on either side of the entrance. They cast a ghostly glow over the bare floors and walls.

The next day, Flynn and I slept late. We’d been let off chores for the day and, as soon as we woke up, Flynn darted outside to check on the bonfire pile. My phone was already full of texts
and messages, mostly from my old mates at Langton, but also from newer friends at the sixth form college. For the first time I wondered how well everyone was going to mix.

I wandered downstairs and spent the next few hours helping Gemma put crisps into bowls and cook the veggie pizza squares she had made the day before.

I was in a state of high nervous excitement by three thirty, when James, Emmi and Grace arrived. James was driving his new car – a second-hand Honda. It wasn’t a flashy motor by any
means but it still seemed an amazing present. I couldn’t imagine Mum and Dad ever being able to afford something like that for me. I watched Flynn let James have his moment showing the car
off to us. At least my dad had always been there for me, unlike Flynn’s da, who had done nothing but let him down. I don’t think such thoughts occurred to Flynn himself. He was happy
for James – and eager to try out the Honda. James took him for a quick drive while Emmi and Grace and I holed ourselves up in my bedroom to get ready for the party.

It was fun, just like I’d imagined. Emmi did Grace’s hair, while Grace did my fingernails. Then Emmi started trying on her various outfits. This was always part of our routine
– watching Emmi work her way through more and more outrageous clothes, while Grace squeaked with shock and I made cutting remarks about how Emmi’s only aim in life was to attract boys,
which made both the others laugh.

Tonight she looked stunning, even for Emmi. She was wearing staggeringly high-heeled boots and the tiniest shorts I’d ever seen. My stomach twisted as I looked at her. I’d always
envied Emmi’s legs and tonight they looked like they were going all the way to her armpits.

I stared down at my own outfit: a pale blue dress with a lacy pattern down the arms and across the middle. The dress was short – though longer than Emmi’s shorts – and stylish
but I still felt fat and frumpy beside her.

‘That looks
incredible
, Em,’ Grace squealed.

‘Yeah, you’ll have guys crawling all over you,’ I said, trying to hide the jealousy in my voice.

‘That’s the idea,’ she grinned.

A knock on the door. ‘Can we come in?’ It was Flynn.

I glanced at Emmi again. ‘Sure.’

The door opened. Flynn and James walked in. They both looked great. Slicked-back hair, jeans and cool T-shirts. One stride into the room and they caught sight of Emmi. As if it was
choreographed, they stopped together and stared.

Grace giggled. How could she be so relaxed about her boyfriend looking at someone else like that?

A sexy smile curved its way round Emmi’s mouth.

‘Hi, James,’ she breathed. She looked at Flynn. ‘Hi, Romeo.’

The knot in my stomach clenched tighter. I knew Emmi didn’t really fancy Flynn. She didn’t even really like him all that much. And she wasn’t trying to upset me. She was just
flirting because that was what she did.

James went bright red. Flynn just looked Emmi up and down. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking from the expression on his face. All my jealous feelings from a year ago flooded back.
There they were: Flynn and Emmi, gorgeous and confident and . . .

‘Looking good, Emmi,’ Flynn said curtly. He turned to me. ‘Can I have a word with you in private?’

I nodded, miserably.

‘Fine.’ Emmi sniffed. ‘We know when we’re not wanted.’ She stalked out of the room, Grace and James right behind.

Flynn walked over. ‘You okay, Riv?’ He frowned.

For the first time I noticed that his hands were behind his back.

‘I’m fine,’ I said, trying to ignore the ugly, miserable feelings that twisted inside me. I pointed behind him. ‘What have you got there?’

He grinned. ‘Anniversary present.’

I stared at him. After initially acknowledging that the party would take place on our one-year anniversary, Flynn hadn’t said anything further. I’d kind of resigned myself to the
fact that he had either forgotten, or else thought it was too mushy and girly to make a fuss of. Either way, I knew Flynn had absolutely no spare money so . . .

‘Don’t you want to see what it is?’

I nodded, unable to speak. I couldn’t believe Flynn was taking me by surprise like this.

Flynn brought his hands round from behind his back. Smiling, he pushed a small package into my hands. It was wrapped in blue tissue paper with loads and loads of different-coloured ribbons wound
around the blue and spiralling off into curls.

‘It’s so pretty,’ I gasped.

Flynn grinned. ‘Gemma helped me with the ribbons. She showed me how to make them curl with a pair of scissors.’

I looked at him, tears in my eyes. ‘Oh, Flynn.’

‘You are such a nut job, Riv!’ Flynn’s grin deepened. ‘You haven’t even opened it yet.’

‘I know.’ I sniffed back the sob that was blocking my throat. ‘It’s just I saw you look at Emmi just now and she looks so fantastic and . . .’

Flynn rolled his eyes. ‘Not this again. Look, Emmi might have a great body but she’s not so great on the inside. I mean, sorry, I know she’s your friend but compared to you
she’s . . . she’s . . .’ He tailed off. ‘She’s not you, Riv. Nobody’s you.’ He put his hands on my waist. ‘Now open my present.’

I fumbled with the ribbons. My hands were shaking slightly as I tore the last one off and ripped open the paper.

‘Oh.’ I sucked in my breath. In my hands was the old gilt-edged mirror Dad and Flynn had wanted to throw out with the rubbish from the barn. Somehow, Flynn had removed all the
cracked glass from the mirror without damaging the pretty frame. And he’d replaced it with a picture of the two of us, then covered the photo with glass. I glanced at the back. A piece of
wire had been threaded through the two metal loops so that it could be hung on a wall.