Authors: Rebecca Westcott
12 February 1990
Destroy this note after reading!
Why are you in such a happy mood today? You've been grinning like a mad woman all lesson! Beth x
I don't know â life feels good I s'pose! Rachel xx
Not got anything to do with a certain boy, has it? You know â the one you're utterly besotted with! Beth x
Maybe! Just happy to be alive today, that's all! Over and out, Rachel xx
And that's it.
Happy to be alive. Over and out
. I fold the note and put it back inside the diary. Then I stand up and sit on my bed. No momentous final words here then. I am struggling to hold back my disappointment. I know it's probably stupid but I thought that Mum's last entry in her diary might help me out a bit.
For a moment I can feel myself sinking back into the place I've spent the last few months â but then I realize that I'm also imagining Mum, as a teenager, having fun with her best friend. I think about everything I've read in her diaries and realize that I can see her clearly in my head. I imagine her having a good day and not caring about what might happen in the future cos she was too busy thinking about boys and friends and having fun.
I've been feeling angry that she didn't write me a final letter â you know, the sort of thing you read about in books or see in films â something that I could keep with me and read at important times, like if I ever get married or have children. I thought she hadn't left any of her behind. But maybe that's why she gave me these diaries. Everything she's written in here is funny and honest and embarrassing and real â they
are
my mum.
I open up my memory box. Dad reprinted all the photos I had before that horrible day five months ago. Not much has changed since then except I go to school when I'm supposed to and Dad found someone for me to talk to each week about how I'm feeling. Sometimes I don't have anything to talk about, but apparently that's OK. I don't feel furious all of the time either â at least, I've stopped feeling angry with Mum. I know that she was really ill and I can't blame her for dying. I still can't help feeling that she didn't have to die, but I suppose that doesn't have to be anybody's fault. I've started taking a few photos again too. Nothing special, just things I see that make me feel â something.
I find the photo I took of me and Mum, the day she taught me about make-up and let me give her a makeover. I haven't put up a single photograph of Mum in my room â I just couldn't face the idea of seeing her every time I opened my eyes in the morning and knowing that she wasn't here any more. I've tried so hard to forget all the terribleness of Mum dying that I've let myself forget all the good stuff too. Mum has gone â but my memories of her will always be here.
I take the picture out of the box, smiling inside
at the awful faces we're pulling as we pose for the camera, and I stick it up on my pinboard, next to the card from Ben. Then I open up my jewellery box and take out the dangly earrings that Mum bought me the day I got my ears pierced. I could have worn them months ago, but it seemed wrong somehow. I carefully take out my studs and put the dangly earrings in. It takes me a few attempts but I get there in the end, and I'm grinning as I remember that fantastic day with Mum. I think about all the rules she tried to teach me and know that there's no chance of me forgetting her and that I need to let myself remember. I'll remember her every time I make spaghetti Bolognese, every time I put on make-up. I'll remember her when I'm laughing with my friends or shopping for underwear. She worked so hard to make sure that I could survive this time â right down to buying me clothes that I didn't need and that were too big, so I didn't have to rely on Dad to take me shopping. She taught me that I shouldn't forget how much I need my friends and made sure that we shared some important stuff â little things to anyone else, but huge to me. My mum had a plan and I can see now that I've not been following the rules. I know she didn't want to leave me and that
she tried really hard to stay with us, but she just didn't have a choice.
Mum always said that the way to get started on something is to stop talking and start doing. So I turn round and head downstairs with my dangly earrings swishing against my ears, ready to start doing what Mum has always wanted me to do.
Live.
Many thanks to the people who read this book in its infancy and gave me massive support, particularly my fantastic mum and sister, Kerry and Elizabeth. Your belief in me leaves me lost for words.
Thank you to my fabulous friend Polly, for spending many hours reading through the early manuscript and offering your brilliant advice.
I am also hugely grateful to Shirley, Dan, Alison, Esther, Kedi, Kate and Niki â your thoughtful comments and feedback turned out to be exactly what I needed.
And thank you, Julia and Alex, for taking a chance and making this happen.
Violet Ink
REBECCA WESTCOTT
Coming in summer 2014
Turn over for an exclusive extract from Rebecca's next book.
I am a hundred per cent determined to win. Never, in living memory has Alex lost a game of Snap, but tonight history is about to be rewritten. In fact, it's my New Year's resolution. I have decided that this year is going to be the Year of Yellow and that means the Year of Happiness because yellow is a very happy colour. Winning this game against Alex is definitely going to make me happy. I crack my knuckles and wiggle my fingers â best to be flexible and ready for ninja-like moves.
âOK,' says Mum, shuffling the cards. Our deck is ancient, all dog-eared and crumpled. âAre we all agreed on the rules?'
âBring it on,' says Alex, sounding confident. I just nod, not taking my eyes off the cards that Mum is dealing out on to the kitchen table. When all the cards have been shared out between the
three of us, we each pick up our pile, keeping the cards face down so that they can't be seen.
âYour turn to go first,' Mum says to me.
I put down the first card, turning it over as it reaches the table. Alex slams a card on top and the game has begun.
Jack, Two, Queen, Ace. I am totally focused, looking at nothing but the cards mounting up in front of me. My mouth is half open, the âs' ready on my lips. I WILL beat her this time â there's no way she can win again.
Three, Ten, Jack, King, King.
âSnâ' I start, but unbelievably my noisy, annoying big sister gets there before me.
âCheese sandwiches!' she yells, nearly deafening me, and whacking her hand down on top of the stack of cards, just in case we're in any doubt about who has won. âI win! Again!'
I cannot actually believe that this is happening. She's going to be utterly unbearable now. I really thought I'd win this time. I'd just like to win ONCE â is that too much to ask? I think I'd be a pretty good winner too and not do what Alex is doing now, making âloser' signs at us and dancing round the kitchen bragging. I'd just smile generously and say, âGood game.' Well, I think I would.
It's hard to know what I'd do when I never actually get to win. Ever.
Mum is laughing and Alex sinks back into her chair, looking across at me with a huge grin on her face.
âHow, how â?' I splutter, but I can't even get the words out properly. âIt's not right, Alex. You've GOT to be cheating. We made you say “cheese sandwiches” â there was no way you could win.'
âWhat can I say?' says Alex, flicking her hair behind her shoulder and shrugging. I'm sure she'll think of something though; she's never usually short of a word or two. âNatural talent, I guess. If there was an A level in playing Snap then I'd get an A star, that's for sure!'
âWell, it's totally unfair,' I tell her, feeling cross. âWe have to play again and this time you've got to say “cheese and mayonnaise sandwiches”. And NO cheating.'
I grab the cards and start to reshuffle the deck, but Mum stops me.
âNot tonight, Izzy. Alex has got studying to do and, sadly for her, Snap is not one of her A level subjects, so she needs to put a bit of effort into doing some work.'
Alex groans dramatically. Alex does everything dramatically actually, like her entire life is really a show and she's the star. It means that she's noisy and bossy and very opinionated, but it also makes her a pretty exciting person to live with. You never quite know what she's going to do next â the only thing you do know is that it won't be boring. In the whole seventeen years that Alex has been alive I don't think she's ever done anything average. Not like me. My name could be the definition of average.
âDo you
have
to remind me? We haven't even gone back to school yet. I was just starting to relax.' She scowls at Mum. âIt's very important that I have rest sessions in between all the hard work you know â all my teachers say so. Stress can be very damaging at this stage of my life.'
Mum stands up and starts to clear away our leftover dinner plates. âStress can be very damaging at my time of life too, I'll have you know. And I think you'll find the most important part of what you just said was the bit about resting in between working. WORKING! And, as I've seen precious little evidence of you doing any actual work over the Christmas holidays, I think you'll survive with a shorter “relaxation” session tonight!'
She is smiling at Alex, but in that way that means âdo what I say or I'll stop pretending that you have a choice'. Alex pushes back her chair and gets up, pulling a face when Mum has turned towards the sink.
âSorry, Izzy. I'll have to thrash you at Snap another night.'
âNo rush,' I mutter. âI'm probably going to be really busy with violin practice for the next few weeks.'
âOh joy. More screeching and wailing to set my teeth on edge.' Alex grimaces at me as she leaves the room, her pile of school books still on the table and her jumper and scarf hanging over the back of her chair. She'll be back down in ten minutes, once she's spent a while making her room right for studying. That doesn't mean that she'll tidy it up. No. Alex says that the ambience has to be right so she'll drape a silk scarf over her lamp and light some joss sticks, and then flit around lighting candles all over the place.
It drives Mum crazy â she's terrified that Alex is going to burn the house down â but Alex says it's her room and she's virtually an adult so Mum should trust her for a change. Mum lets her, but what Alex doesn't know is that, when she's asleep,
Mum always creeps into her bedroom and checks everything is safe. I know this because I check on her too, and one night I opened my bedroom door just as Mum was going into Alex's room. I saw her tiptoe round the room, turning off the lamp and making sure that the candles were out. When she came out, I pretended that I was going to the bathroom. Mum gave me a hug and put her finger to her lips and I knew that she didn't want Alex to know that Mum still looks after her.
I'm glad that Alex has got me AND Mum to keep her safe because sometimes her head is so busy with exciting things, she forgets to do the things that she really should be doing. We're like her protectors so that she can get on with being Alex.
Do you keep a diary? I've been writing diaries since I was eight years old and most of the entries are either really boring or completely embarrassing! I used some of my own diary entries as Mum's diary in
Dandelion Clocks
. For example, I really did have a guinea pig called Smokey and I cried every night for weeks when he died. I also had a list of four and a half boys that I really liked, but I was definitely not in the cool group at school and all the boys thought that I was loud and annoying.
When I was eighteen, I spent hours writing meaningful song lyrics in the margins with felt-tip pens (I said I was uncool â¦). I really like reading my old diaries and remembering how I felt when I was a child and then a teenager, even if they do make me cringe.
Writing a diary from the point of view of someone else can really improve your writing. It's important to write events in a chronological order and to make the
tone of your writing really personal. Using rhetorical questions (a question that won't be answered) can help the reader understand how the writer is feeling and give us more information about their state of mind.
Try writing a diary entry for each of these characters â and maybe start keeping your own diary. You don't need to use anything special â you can write in an old notebook. Fill in your own
Secret File
page to help you get started!