Eva's Journey (8 page)

Chapter Twelve

F
ive minutes later I had a plan. I'm not sure if it was a great plan, but it was the best I could come up with in such a short time.

I pulled my phone out of my schoolbag, ran up to the door of Dawn's house, and knocked hard. Dawn opened the door and stood there under her own personal black cloud.

‘Oh,' I said. ‘I didn't know you lived here. What a coincidence.'

She stared at me for a minute.

‘You're the new girl in school,' she said. ‘Eva, isn't it?'

I nodded.

‘What are you doing here?' she asked.

I smiled my best smile.

‘It's about the project Mr Gowing set us,' I said, hoping that Dawn wouldn't remember that he hadn't mentioned a project. ‘It's a science project,' I added. ‘Science is my favourite subject.'

‘And?'

‘And I'm going to do my project on butterflies, and while I was walking past your house just now, I saw the coolest butterfly fly into your garden. I need to take a picture of it. Can I go look for it?'

I helpfully held up my phone. (It was ancient – at least six months old, but at least it had a camera.)

Dawn shrugged.

‘Sure, just don't trample on the flowers.'

I didn't move.

‘Er …… actually, I need your help. I need you to sit with me and rustle the flowers, so that the butterfly will fly out. Then I can take the picture.'

I didn't wait for an answer. I walked over to the flowers under the open window, and I sat down. I smiled to myself as Dawn followed me and sat down next to me. Dawn smiled too. She looked
younger and prettier when she smiled.

I wondered if I could help her to smile a lot more.

‘We need to be very quiet, so we won't frighten the butterfly,' I whispered.

Dawn nodded, and then I continued.

‘Now, what I need you to do is to shake each flower one by one, very gently.'

Dawn smiled again.

‘I think I can manage that,' she whispered, and gently shook the first flower.

We sat there for a while. It was peaceful, in a weird kind of way. Dawn shook each flower one by one, and when she had shaken them all, I had to pretend to be surprised that the non-existent butterfly hadn't flown out.

Now what was I going to do?

Why wasn't the phone inside the house ringing?

‘I'm sorry, Eva,' said Dawn, starting to get up. ‘We must have missed it. It must have flown away while you were knocking on the door.'

I grabbed her arm and pulled her down again.

Was I going to have to sit on her to get her to stay there?

‘Please,' I whispered. ‘Wait another few minutes. Maybe the butterfly will come back.'

I knew this was really pathetic, and probably Dawn did too, but she smiled kindly.

‘OK,' she said. ‘Since it seems to mean so much to you, I'll wait another few minutes.'

Just then the phone inside the house rang. I could hear footsteps as Dawn's mother went to answer it.

‘We need to be very quiet,' I whispered to Dawn. ‘Or the butterfly won't come back.'

Then I sat there and listened to one half of Dawn's mother's telephone conversation.

‘Hi, Mary. Thanks for ringing me. And thanks for inviting me to live with you and Hannah, but I have to say no …………………… Yes, I know I'm throwing away a great opportunity………………….'

Then there was a long gap. I sneaked a quick look at Dawn. She didn't say anything, but I knew
that she was listening to her mother too.

Her mother spoke again, sounding really sad.

‘Yes, Mary, I know all of that. I've been over and over it with Hannah already. It would be absolutely perfect for me. But the problem is Dawn. She has no one else to take care of her. What would she do if I suddenly announced that I was going to live with you and Hannah? I'm sorry, but I just couldn't do that to the child.'

Child! Dawn had to be at least twenty-five years old.

Beside me, I could hear Dawn's breathing change, like she was really tense or afraid …… or excited.

The phone conversation was over seconds later.

‘Goodbye, Mary, and thanks anyway,' said Dawn's mother sadly. ‘I hope you and Hannah have fun when you go apartment-hunting tomorrow.'

Then I heard a dull click as the phone was put down.

Dawn jumped up, looking all flushed and
happy.

‘I'm sorry, Eva,' she said. ‘I've got to go inside to talk to my mother. It's an emergency.'

‘Whatever,' I said, trying not to look as happy as I felt.

Dawn ran to the front door, and then ran back to me.

‘I'm sorry about your butterfly,' she said. ‘I'll look for some pictures on the internet later on if you like.'

I shook my head.

‘It's OK, thanks. I've changed my mind. I think I'll do my project on worms instead. They're easier to take pictures of. Now you go ahead and talk to your mother. I'm sure you've got lots to say to her.'

Dawn gave me a funny look, and then ran inside.

I stood up, brushed the grass off my ugly green uniform and set off for home.

Result.

The next morning, Dawn practically skipped into
the classroom. She was smiling so much that she looked like her face was going to crack in two. Several times I could hear her humming happily.

At break time, I overheard her talking to one of the other classroom assistants. Dawn was so excited she could hardly get the words out properly.

‘… and everything is slipping perfectly into place,' she said. ‘By the time we get back from South America, Mum will have moved in with her sisters and my two friends and I are going to move into Mum's house. Mum said we can redecorate if we want. We're going to …….'

I didn't wait to hear any more, and I walked away to look for Ella and Amy and Chloe.

I was very glad for Dawn, but I couldn't help feeling sorry for myself.

When was my life going to change?

When was I going to get my happy ending?

Chapter Thirteen

T
he rest of that week passed very slowly. Whenever I got really fed up, I tried to remember Madam Margarita's words.

Help people.

Help people.

It was like an echo rattling round inside my brain.

Soon I was blue in the face from holding doors open for people, and from helping little old ladies across the street.

But still nothing changed.

Friday rolled around again and I was still a pupil in Woodpark School.

I was still living in a horrible house.

Dad still didn't have a job or a car.

I was still where I didn't want to be.

Victoria called over after school on Friday.

To get upstairs, we had to climb over Dad, who was lying there repairing one of the broken steps.

‘Sorry, girls,' he said. ‘Just trying to patch the place up a bit.'

I giggled. Now that Dad wasn't working, he was totally bored, and he was driving Mum crazy. Every time she turned around he was whacking something with a hammer or attacking something with a screwdriver. Mum said she was afraid to sit down in case he tried to saw her in half.

Victoria looked around approvingly.

‘The house is looking lovely,' she said to my dad. ‘You've got a talent for home-improvement.'

I wondered how Dad would take that. Up to recently he'd had a talent for running one of the biggest businesses in town.

But Dad looked at Victoria like she was his best friend in the whole world.

‘Thanks,' he said, beaming so much that he accidentally thumped his finger with the hammer.

Victoria and I giggled, and ran upstairs.

‘You look really nice, Victoria,' I said as we sat on the tiny bed in my tiny bedroom.

She didn't argue, probably because she knew I was right. She was wearing a beautiful new top and new jeans, and her brown hair had the coolest touches of gold running through it.

I was wearing clothes that I'd had forever, and my highlights were almost completely grown out.

I couldn't stop myself from leaning over and touching the soft fabric of her top.

‘You can borrow it any time you like,' she said.

I nodded, afraid that if I tried to speak, I might cry instead.

I was always the one who had the nicest things.

I was always the one who lent Victoria stuff.

That's just the way it was meant to be.

I looked around my bedroom. I had done my best, by putting up posters and stuff, but nothing
could change the fact that it was a very small and very ugly room. The walls were painted a dark muddy-brown colour, and the carpet looked like it had seen better days – hundreds of years ago. I had planned to ask Dad to paint the walls, but when I said that to Mum, she hesitated, and I figured that she didn't want to spend any of our precious money on paint.

Suddenly I couldn't bear to sit there for another second.

‘Come on,' I said, grabbing my jacket and heading for the door.

‘Where are we going?' asked Victoria.

I shrugged.

‘I don't know yet. Just out of here.'

We walked to the park, but there was a gang of scary-looking boys there, so we didn't stay.

‘We could go to the cinema,' suggested Victoria.

‘No,' I said quickly.

I didn't have the money for the cinema. I didn't have the money to do anything fun. I thought sadly of how things used to be. In my old house,
the table next to my bed was always strewn with coins and notes that I'd carelessly emptied from my pockets. Now I never got pocket money any more, and when I needed money for school, Mum doled it out like she was giving me the last of her life's savings.

Sometimes I was afraid that she truly was giving me the last of her life's savings.

Victoria hesitated.

‘I can lend you the money if you like.'

‘No,' I said even more quickly. I knew Victoria was being kind, and I would really have loved to go to the cinema, but there was no way I was borrowing money from her.

How could I, when I had no idea when I was ever going to be able to pay her back?

I sighed.

‘I don't mind if you want to go home,' I said. ‘Or maybe one of your other friends would like to go to the cinema with you.'

She shook her head.

‘Stop being an idiot,' she said. ‘It's you I want to
hang out with. We'll find something to do that doesn't cost money.'

In the end, we went to a chemist's shop near Victoria's house. Victoria's sister's friend, Bethany, was working there, and she let us try on all the make-up. I had so much fun trying on all the different lip-glosses that I forgot to be upset that I couldn't afford to buy any of them.

After a while, Bethany made us wipe our faces clean.

‘I'll do you up properly,' she said. ‘I need to practice for my night class. The theme this week is “Dramatic Looks.”'

Much later, Victoria and I fell around laughing as we left the shop.

‘That's the best fun I've had in ages,' I said. ‘But you look like you've been in an accident.'

‘Well, you look like there's been an explosion in the blusher factory,' she retorted.

‘I think poor Bethany needs a bit more practice,' I said, and then we laughed some more, as we headed towards home.

We hadn't gone far, when I saw a familiar figure wheeling herself along a side street. She wasn't wearing her shiny turban or her sparkly shawl, but I knew straight away who it was.

‘Can you hang on a sec?' I said to Victoria. ‘I need to talk to that woman.'

Victoria shrugged.

‘Who is she?'

I was glad that Victoria hadn't seen Madam Margarita the time before, and now I certainly didn't plan on explaining who she was.

‘Oh, it's just someone I know,' I said. ‘I'll only be a minute.'

I ran up to Madam Margarita. She looked surprised to see me.

‘Oh, it's the Princess,' she said, but not unkindly.

I didn't answer. She had never looked very mysterious, but now she looked nothing at all like a fortune-teller.

She just looked very cold and very tired.

‘Nice make-up,' she said.

I put my hand to my face in embarrassment.

‘I'd forgotten about that,' I said. ‘You see—'

Madam Margarita put her hand up to stop me.

‘You don't always have to explain yourself to me,' she said. ‘Don't apologise for being young and exuberant.'

‘Er … can I ask you something?' I said.

She shrugged her thin shoulders.

‘It's a free country.'

‘Remember what you said, about helping people?'

She didn't answer, so I continued.

‘Well, I did it. I did what you said. I've helped loads and loads of people.'

‘I see you've been helping pre-schoolers with their spatter-painting classes.'

‘What …? I began before I realised that she was talking about my make-up.

‘Ha ha, very funny. Not.'

‘Sorry,' she said, smiling. ‘I couldn't resist. Anyway, you were saying?'

‘I've helped loads of people,' I said again. ‘But it didn't work. Nothing has changed.'

Madam Margarita raised one eyebrow.

‘Maybe things have changed for the people you helped, though.'

‘I don't care about the other people….' She raised the other eyebrow and I corrected myself. ‘Well, I do care about them, and there's this one woman, Dawn, I totally turned her life around … but I care about me too. Why can't I be happy?'

She smiled.

‘You seem like a nice girl – underneath it all. I'm sure things will turn out OK for you in the end. Keep on helping others and you won't go far wrong. Just remember, nothing changes quickly. You have to be patient.'

‘Patience is for losers,' I muttered.

Madam Margarita laughed a big happy laugh.

‘That's funny,' she said.

I looked at her in surprise. If I was as poor as she seemed to be, and if I had to use a wheelchair, would I ever think anything was funny again?

Would I ever be able to laugh?

Would I ever even be able to smile?

‘I'd better get back to my friend.' I said.

‘OK,' said Madam Margarita. ‘But there's one more thing.'

‘What?'

‘That'll be another ten euro.'

I gulped.

‘But I don't have……..' I began.

Madam Margarita gave another happy laugh.

‘I'm joking,' she said. ‘Now off you go and have a nice day.'

I smiled as she wheeled herself away, on perfectly silent, squeak-free wheels.