Magenta McPhee (11 page)

‘It was just an idea, that's all,'I said, stung.

‘Well, not a very practical one. Did anyone bring a blanket?'

‘I did, sort of,' Spooky said. ‘It's not very big and I only brought it because, well I don't really know why but I put it in at the last minute. I had this feeling. You know, how you suddenly get feelings.'

‘So we've got two sleeping bags and one blanket,' Dad said. ‘Okay. I can sleep in my clothes. Lianna, you can have my sleeping bag, Magenta keeps hers and Cal has the blanket.'

‘Oh no,' Spooky said, ‘I'll take the blanket. Cal can have the sleeping bag.'

‘Don't be stupid, Mum,' Cal said. ‘You're taking the sleeping bag. Don't argue about it.'

I looked at Cal with new respect. I would have accepted the sleeping bag in a heartbeat.

‘It's all right,' Dad said too heartily. ‘We've all got ground sheets, it's summer and this is luxury compared to...' he stopped, obviously thinking.

‘Africa,' I said. It's always Africa. ‘You know, Dad, there might be a mat or something in the bottom of the boot, too. Remember? From that meditation class you did?'

There was a small argument about who took the mat. Cal wanted Dad to take it and Dad wanted Cal to take it. I nearly offered to have it and save them the debate. I knew from experience that I'd wake up and have some big stone lodged under my back.

‘I'm so sorry,' Spooky kept saying, ‘I just really didn't think that sleeping bags weren't part of camping equipment. I mean, what else would you want them for?'

Eventually Cal gave her a look and said, ‘Shut up, Mum,' but in quite a nice voice. She shut her mouth quickly as though swallowing an unpleasant pill.

Then we all went to the surf beach. We had just enough time for a surf before lunch, Dad said, even though my stomach was rumbling.

At first it was really awkward. I mean, you don't really want to see anyone you know while you're wearing a wetsuit, do you? They're so ... industrial. I didn't want to wear one, but Dad insisted, even when I pointed out that Cal didn't have one. He was in boardies and a rash shirt that was wearing thin.

‘That's their business,' he hissed. ‘I can't help their equipment beyond what I've already done. You are wearing your wetsuit, Magenta, and that's that.'

‘C'mon then, last one in's a rotten egg,' Dad called. He was wearing a wetsuit and his old man's stomach poked out like a little pouch. His shoulders were still a little broader than Cal's, though. ‘Lianna, you're coming in, aren't you?'

Spooky had taken her skirt off. Her legs were vanilla-ice-cream white. She'd put on a huge straw hat and underneath that her long-sleeved black t-shirt made her look like a strange bi-coloured spider.

‘Not yet,' she said. ‘I need some time.'

Dad shrugged but I was intrigued. What did she need time for? The water wasn't going to get warmer or calmer. This was it.

‘Just to ... you know ... do it,' she said apologetically. ‘I wasn't a sporty kind of kid.'

‘That's okay, Mum,' Cal said. ‘You can stay out here and sunbake if you want.'

‘Oh no, I don't want to do that,' Spooky said. ‘Skin
cancer, Cal. Why do you think you smear so much expensive sunblock over yourself?'

‘Sorry, Mum, I was just trying...'

‘You all go in. I'm fine. I love sitting on the beach watching. This little sun tent is a really good thing, Max. It's wonderful how prepared you are.'

The water was freezing. I was glad to be wearing my wetsuit. I got a couple of good waves with my board and Cal turned out to be a pretty good bodysurfer.

‘This is great, isn't it?' Dad said, coming up behind us on his board. ‘Isn't this great, kids? Why won't your mum come in, Cal? She doesn't know what she's missing.'

Cal shrugged. ‘I don't think she gets the whole swimming thing. She'll be okay on the beach. She'll probably go for a walk or something.'

Sure enough, when we finally got out Spooky was sitting in the beach tent beside a huge pile of little shells. She looked happier.

‘I'm going to take these home,' she said, scooping the shells up into her hat.

‘What are you going to do with them?' I asked. I had a jar of shells from my last camping trip but I'd never worked out what to do with them.

‘I'm not sure, maybe decorate a picture frame? I know it sounds a bit kitsch, but kitsch is in at the moment, isn't it? I was thinking of making some of those softies, you know. I might use some of the shells for eyes?'

‘Softies?'

‘Those little soft toys the kids are mad about these days. They're kind of cute. I was thinking of trying to make some and sell them. Just for some pocket money.'

‘That's a great idea,' I said. I'd just worked out what she was talking about. ‘You can make really evil ones, too, you know. A girl at my school is collecting them.'

‘I'm not sure that I want to make evil ones,' Spooky said. ‘There's already so much bad in the world. Soft toys should be sweet, I think, not evil.'

‘Evil ones might sell better.' Cal had folded the tent up all by himself, without being asked. I could tell Dad was impressed.

‘Do you think so?'

‘Yes,' Cal said firmly, ‘I do. They're more novel than the sweet ones. I tell you what, Mum, why don't you do evil ones but dress them really sweetly?'

‘Cool.' I could see them in my mind. They'd have little stitched scars and screaming mouths but they'd be wearing pale pink skirts with rosebuds and ruffles.

‘I'll have to see,' Spooky said. ‘It was just a little idea I had, Cal. If you know so much about these, maybe you should make them.'

‘I can't sew,' Cal said, ‘you know that. I could design them, though. You could make them up from my designs. After all, I know more about the teen market than you do.'

‘A mother-and-son enterprise,' Dad said. ‘I like it. It's a good hook, too.'

Spooky looked flustered. ‘You're right,' she said. ‘But Cal, you have to study. You can't spend your spare time designing softies.'

‘How much time can it take?' Cal asked. ‘Let's do a couple, Mum? See what happens. It doesn't have to be a big thing.'

‘Can we eat?' I was starving.

‘Of course, darling,' Spooky said. ‘We'll go back to the camp and have a delicious lunch. Let's talk about business another time.'

I was a bit doubtful about Spooky's definition of delicious when it turned out we were going to have salad sandwiches. One of the rules of camping was that you didn't have to have healthy meals. No one had told Spooky, obviously. However, the sandwiches were scrumptious.

‘These are excellent,' Dad said examining his sandwich. ‘I've got to hand it to you, Lianna. This is the best camp lunch I've ever had!'

‘Why, thanks, Max. The trick is the pesto, of course. Gives it that oomph.'

Jane, Polly's mum, would like Spooky. They'd be able to talk food together. I'd have to see how I could get them together. Maybe I could just outright ask Jane to invite Spooky and my dad over to dinner. That way Polly could cast one of her love spells then and there. It wasn't
a bad idea. I was beginning to like Spooky. Although I was also beginning to really like Cal. That kind of complicated things.

‘Magenta and I'll clear up,' Cal offered. ‘Why don't you two go for a walk or something?'

‘You sure?' Spooky said. ‘I don't mind, honestly.'

‘No, go on. You prepared the sandwiches. Why don't you both go and have a coffee or something. There's a shop.'

I stared at Cal. What was he after – Best Camper Award?

‘Shall we, Max?'

‘Good idea,' Dad said heartily. ‘These kids can earn their keep.'

I rolled my eyes. ‘What about you earning yours? You didn't prepare sandwiches.'

‘Don't be cheeky, Magenta. Anyway, I'm buying the coffee. Come along, Lianna.'

‘Your dad's a nice guy,' Cal said, piling our plates into the washing-up bowl. ‘It was really good of him to lend me his board like that. Well, it was really good of him to bring us here and organise this. Mum can't do this kind of thing.'

I shrugged. ‘Dad and I go camping quite a bit. It's not really a lot of trouble.'

‘Still,' Cal said, ‘he hardly knows us. I mean, I thought he'd had all these email conversations with Mum, but it turned out that was with you, so he really does hardly know us. Do you think he likes Mum?'

The question caught me off guard. ‘Do you mean like, or
like
like?' I asked.

‘You know what I mean. Is he interested in her?'

‘I honestly don't know. I haven't seen them holding hands or anything.'

‘I'd just like to get her settled,' Cal said, handing me a wet plate. ‘Then I could focus a bit on my own stuff.'

‘You'd like to get her settled?' I dried the plate mechanically.

‘Yes. Settled. I don't mean married or anything, just settled down. Calmer. Happier. With a bit of a life of her own. If she had someone like your dad, she'd be all right. I wouldn't have to worry about her.'

‘That's why I went on the Net,' I said. ‘For Dad. He seemed depressed. I'm not sure that I was right, though.'

‘He doesn't seem depressed,' Cal said. ‘He seems too energetic to be depressed. Aren't depressed people supposed to sleep a lot and not want to go out? Or do you think meeting Mum has cheered him up?'

I didn't think Lianna had made the difference, but I couldn't tell Cal that and I wasn't sure. Maybe she had. Maybe they'd get to the hand-holding stage by the end of the weekend. What did I know? I couldn't even write a kissing scene in the Chronicles.

‘We should give them some alone time,' I said. ‘So they can get to know each other.'

Cal looked at me, his eyebrows raised. ‘Why exactly did you think I offered to clear up?' he asked, ‘because I love washing dishes in cold soapy water?'

Mum had always told me that you could tell how a man was going to treat his girlfriends by the way he related to his mother. If that was true Cal would be the perfect boyfriend. Unless he was going to be my stepbrother. That would really mess up the boyfriend bit. I didn't know what to hope for anymore.

‘You do like Mum?' Cal asked. ‘I mean, I know she comes across as a bit hopeless, but really she isn't.'

‘Yes, I like her,' I said. ‘But anyway, it isn't me liking her that's important, is it? It's whether Dad likes her.'

‘And whether she likes Max,' Cal pointed out.

Then there didn't seem to be much more to say about it so we finished the washing up and played cards. I won five games out of seven. I liked Cal a lot, particularly when he told me Lady Luck rode on my shoulder. It was such a cool thing to think. I wondered if I could get Ricardo to say that to Rosa in the Chronicles. Would they play cards? They might even gamble. That would be a bit more action I could put in. What if he gambled for something really important?

‘Penny for them?' Cal interrupted my thoughts.

‘Just thinking of gambling,' I said to him.

‘Really? I don't think you should at your age.'

‘No, silly, this is for the Chronicles. I'm having
problems, because of the action. As in there isn't much. But if I had this character gamble for something really important – I don't know what – then it would be a bit more action and excitement.'

‘He could gamble for the hand of his lover,' Cal said, without even stumbling over the word ‘lover'. ‘That would be pretty exciting. If he loses she has to go off with the villain. If he wins they live happily ever after. People still do that in fantasies.'

‘People still do that in real life. I mean, sometimes they must, don't you think?'

Cal shrugged. ‘Maybe the second time round when they've learnt how to do it better. Look, here they come. Do you reckon they like each other yet?'

We watched Spooky and Dad walking down the road to us. They weren't holding hands or even walking close.

‘I don't think so,' I said slowly. ‘They don't even look as though they're talking to each other.'

‘Blast it!' Cal said. ‘I really thought ... oh well, maybe it's still a little early.'

I must admit, though, I felt a small shiver of pleasure at the thought that Dad and Spooky didn't really like each other. That way there was the remotest chance that Cal and I might be able to get to the
like
like stage. If Lady Luck continued to ride on my shoulder.

‘Well,' Dad said as they arrived at the tent, ‘what a treat, coming back from good coffee and a pleasant chat to discover the washing-up already done. Thanks, kids. What is everyone planning for this afternoon? Lianna and I thought we might walk over to Squeaky Beach. What do you think?'

‘That sounds great,' I said.

‘Except that Magenta and I thought we might hang out at the river,' Cal cut in smoothly, beetling his eyebrows at me, ‘didn't we, Magenta?'

‘That's right,' I said quickly. ‘Some kids were going...'

‘Fishing,' Cal finished for me. ‘We thought we'd check out what they were catching.'

‘They had a canoe,' I said, not to be outdone.

‘Cal,' Spooky said, ‘you can always go fishing, but you mightn't get another chance to go to Squeaky Beach for a long time. Please come.'

‘It's only sand that squeaks,' I said.

‘Cal!'

‘I really want to see the fishing,' Cal said. ‘I mean, we do. Magenta and me.'

‘And the canoe,' I added, in case he'd forgotten.

‘Cal, can I have a word in private?' Spooky said and stepped forward to touch his arm.

‘No, Mum.' Cal stepped back, away from her. ‘It's just really simple. Magenta and I want to see the fishing and the canoe. You and Max can go to Squeaky Beach. You're not kids. You don't need supervision.'

‘Private?'

‘There's no point, Mum.'

‘All right then, I'll have to say this in front of everyone. I think it's lovely that you're trying to give Max and me some adult space but Max and I are just friends, Cal. That's all.'

‘Yes, I know that, but you might...' Cal was blushing to the roots of his dark hair.

‘No, we won't, Cal. Max has made it quite clear that he's interested in someone else.'

‘You're what? Who?' It was the first I'd ever heard of this.

‘So you've just been leading Mum on?' Cal squared up to my Dad and for a ridiculous moment I thought he was going to offer to fight him.

‘I haven't led her on,' Dad said. ‘I just offered to take you both camping, that's all.'

‘When you were interested in someone else? I call that a rubbishy way to treat someone.'

‘Cal,' Spooky said, ‘adults can be friends, you know.
That's what Max said the first time we met. It's not fair to accuse him of leading me on.'

‘You put yourself up on a dating site and you're interested in someone else.'

‘He didn't put himself up,' I said. ‘Still, Dad, you could have said something.'

‘I have,' Dad said. ‘I told Lianna over coffee. I'd been trying to tell her over emails but you know what emails are like. It always came out wrongly or something. So we've had our wires a bit crossed but no harm's done, is it, Lianna?'

‘Of course not, Max.' Spooky smiled but it was a sad kind of smile.

‘I think it's despicable,' Cal said angrily. ‘I think it's just despicable. Camping is ... well, it's intimate. You share space with people. It hints at a bigger relationship than friendship.'

‘We have separate tents,' I pointed out. ‘Dad, why didn't you tell me, not Spooky. You should have told me.'

‘Stop calling her Spooky!' Cal shouted.

‘Sorry. Dad, why didn't you say anything?'

‘I wasn't sure if it was going anywhere. It didn't look as though it was.'

‘That's when you invited us camping,' Cal said, ‘as a back-up.'

‘That's not really what happened,' Dad said but he was looking at his shoes.

‘You don't tell a girl you're interested in that you're just going camping with another girl, but it's okay because you're friends,' Cal said stubbornly. ‘I may only be a kid but I do know that much.'

‘I think we should just stop all this,' Spooky said, fanning herself with her hat. ‘It's not helping, Cal, darling. The point is that Max and I are just friends and that's all that's going to happen so why don't we walk to Squeaky Beach, the four of us together, and stop this bickering over nothing.'

‘You aren't nothing,' Cal said, ‘you're the most important person in my life, Mum. That's not nothing. I want you to be happy.'

‘Cal, darling, that's so wonderful of you. You're the most important person in my life, too, and always will be.' I thought Spooky was going to cry but she just sniffed and smiled a watery smile at us all. ‘I'm actually quite happy, Cal. I only went on the Internet dating site because you pestered me to. Of course, it's lovely meeting new people and I like both Max and Magenta. There wasn't that chemistry, though. Was there, Max?'

He looked a little embarrassed and cleared his throat but didn't actually say anything. It didn't matter, though, because Spooky was going to say it for them both.

‘You know, darling, when you meet someone you really really like, you do know straight away. There's this little frisson of ... well ... frisson.' Spooky said the word
with a French accent that made it sound very exotic. ‘I had it with your father. I can remember so clearly.'

‘It didn't get you very far then, did it, this chemical reaction,' Cal muttered.

‘On the contrary,' Spooky said, ‘it gave us fifteen wonderful years together. That's a long way, Cal. These days. It also gave us you.'

‘I want to know who she is,' I said. If Spooky and Cal could stick to their argument, I could stick to mine. ‘Who is she, Dad? Have I met her?'

‘Oh yes, quite a lot,' Dad said. ‘You know her.'

‘Who?'

‘Sandra, the librarian?'

‘Not the grumpy one?' I couldn't remember which one Sandra was. I never looked at their name tags ever.

‘No, not the grumpy one. The smiley one with beautiful eyes.'

‘As if that tells me anything,' I complained, but actually I thought I did know the one he meant. She'd let me off a couple of overdue fines.

‘It's all very well to go on about chemistry,' Cal said, ‘but when are you going to meet someone special, Mum? If Max can do it – no offence, Max – you must be able to.'

‘I'm sure there's someone out there,' Spooky said. ‘It just isn't the right time yet. It is however the right time to head off to Squeaky Beach. Do let's go. I haven't been
there since I was a teenager, about your age, Magenta. I remember loving it.'

We walked to Squeaky Beach in two distinct pairs – Dad and me, Spooky and Cal. I didn't hear what they were talking about because I was too busy asking Dad all sorts of questions about Sandra.

‘So was Cal right, did you just have Spooky as a backup?' I couldn't believe that Dad would suddenly have two women interested in him. I shot a sideways glance at him. He looked okay dressed, when you couldn't see his little pot belly because his shirt hung over it. ‘You'd better not ask Sandra camping,' I told him, ‘because then she'll see you in a wetsuit.'

‘What's wrong with that?'

‘You've got this little pot,' I said, patting it. Sometimes I rubbed it for luck, the way you're supposed to rub a statue of the Buddha.

‘It's okay,' Dad said, sucking in his tummy. ‘Not as bad as some.'

‘That's true. Does she know you're going bald?'

‘It's pretty obvious, isn't it? To answer an earlier question, Magenta, which seems to me more important than these superficial ones, I suppose there might be a tiny little bit of truth in what Cal said. I'd invited Sandra out a couple of times but she was always busy. I wasn't thinking of Lianna as more than a friend but I did think that I should start living some kind of life, rather than
hanging around hoping that Sandra was interested in me.' Dad checked out where Spooky and Cal were and lowered his voice a little so I had to lean in to hear what he was saying. It was crazy because the wind was whipping around and the ocean was roaring off the rocks.

‘I was also a bit sorry for Lianna and I thought, well, we could teach them to go camping and then she might feel a little less hopeless. She doesn't seem to have particularly high self-esteem. I kind of liked that, I suppose. Your mother was always confident and competent. I guess it made me feel a bit protective or something. Then, after I'd asked them, Sandra told me at the library that she was free this weekend. She'd been trying for ages to convince her mother to move into a nursing home and her mother had finally found somewhere she thought would be all right.'

‘That's why you said it was bad timing.' I remembered. ‘So are you going out with Sandra?'

‘Yes,' Dad said and he couldn't hide his grin. ‘Yes, we're going out next weekend.'

‘I'll be at Mum's!'

‘That's right. You'll be at your mother's.' Dad didn't sound at all remorseful.

‘So I won't get to meet her or anything.'

‘You've met her already,' Dad said. ‘Anyway, I hope there'll be lots more chances.'

Squeaky Beach seemed to cheer Spooky up. Actually
it was strange. Now that it was clear that she and Dad would only be friends, she seemed more relaxed and more natural. It was as if she was able to be herself. She stomped up the beach making the sand squeak with every step. She grabbed Cal's arm and they did it together. Then they did a fake tango, right there in the sand. It didn't matter that the entire beach watched. Spooky was nearly falling over, she was laughing so much.

‘It's just how I remember!' she said. ‘Isn't it wonderful?'

‘It's pretty good,' I said carefully, ‘but it is just sand that squeaks.'

‘No, darling, that's where you're wrong. This beach was the thirteenth summer of my life,' Spooky said, throwing out her hands. ‘It
was
my life that summer.'

‘A good summer, then?' Dad asked.

‘A perfect summer,' Spooky said. ‘A perfect summer, a perfect boy. I don't think he even knew I existed but I wrote love poems to him the entire holidays. He was divine.'

‘Mum!'

Spooky shrugged at Cal and grinned. ‘Just divine.'

I looked at Cal. Was he divine? No. I wouldn't have said that. Pretty good, but not divine. I wasn't even perfectly sure that Richard was divine when I thought about it. What was that frisson? My heart sometimes leapt against my rib cage when I saw Richard. Was that a frisson? It had done it with Cal, too, though – when we
accidentally touched hands as he dealt out the cards. Could you have frissons with two boys?

We went swimming at Squeaky Beach and even Spooky tucked her skirt up and waded in to her knees.

‘I don't like swimming in the ocean,' she told me. ‘I find it a bit confronting. You never know what might be lurking underneath. I'm afraid I don't give Cal all the opportunities he deserves as a boy. That's why I thought this trip with Max was so important. I was prepared to make an effort, even without the chemistry. For Cal's sake.'

‘You mean you would have gone out with Dad so Cal could go camping?'

‘Sort of,' Spooky said. ‘Perhaps not quite as bluntly as that sounds.'

I shook my head. It seemed to me a good thing that Sandra had sorted out all this before it got really messy. Otherwise Dad might have gone out with Spooky because he felt both that he should have a life (hello! what had I been telling him?) and sorry for Spooky and she would have gone out with Dad because she felt Cal should have a different life. This wasn't getting things right the second time round as far as I could see.

‘This frisson thing,' I said to her, ‘can you have it with more than one boy?'

‘At certain times in your life, of course,' Spooky said. ‘Gosh, when I was in my teens! Even older. I guess the
thing is that at a certain age you don't act on it when it could hurt other people.'

‘So it's normal to have it for more than one boy?' I dragged her back to the topic. I wasn't going to hurt anyone.

‘Perfectly normal, darling. Are they two boys from school?'

‘No. No, not all.'

Spooky looked at me. ‘Do they like you back?' she asked.

‘I don't know,' I said. ‘I don't think so. Not like like.'

‘Oh well,' she touched my shoulder gently, ‘you've got years and years ahead of you. There are more things to life than just love, too. Don't forget that, Magenta.'

‘I won't. I'm going to be a famous fantasy writer. I'm in the middle of the first book of my first trilogy. I was just wondering. My mother doesn't talk about frissons or chemistry. They've got it, of course, Trib and Mum, they spend enough time smooching, but she's a teacher.'

Spooky nodded. ‘Teachers have to be practical. It makes it harder.'

By the time we got back to the campsite it was getting dark. A strange snorting kind of noise was coming from Spooky's tent. She grabbed my arm, but only because I was closest.

‘There's someone in my tent,' she whispered. ‘Look!'

Sure enough, we could see something bulging out at the side.

‘He's very short,' I said.

‘Or bent over?'

‘Lianna,' Dad came up behind us making us jump, ‘you haven't left food in the tent, have you?'

‘Food? Anything open is in the esky.'

‘Secured?'

‘Of course.'

‘Nothing else?'

‘I don't think so. Why?'

‘That's not a person in your tent, it's a wombat.'

‘A wombat? Oh my heavens. My face scrub. I bet it's after my face scrub.'

‘It's more likely to be after food.'

‘The stollen! I made a stollen. You can't put that in an esky. It'd go soggy. It was in one of the green bags. With my face scrub. What will I do?'

Dad dealt with the wombat. He chased it out of the tent by banging the side it was bulging out of and yelling loudly. The wombat shot through the tent entrance. They can move really fast for such short, fat little things.