Violet Ink (17 page)

It's the last week of term and everyone is excited. Nobody is getting any work done and even the teachers seem to have given up. Most of our lessons involve watching a film or having a discussion. This suits Hannah and me: we just hide in a quiet corner and chat about the summer holidays.

I've told her about Alex – it seemed silly not to when the news was spreading round school like a fire. Most of the sixth form came and asked me if it was true in those first few days. I suppose it gave them something else to think about instead of stressing over their exams. And it's not every day that the sixth form heart-throb runs away with the popular, dramatic, pretty girl. The worst part was the whole-school assembly we had a week after they'd gone. Our head teacher managed to avoid saying Alex or Charlie's names, but he
didn't need to bother trying to be subtle: everyone knew why we were suddenly being lectured on keeping ourselves safe and making the right choices, and him going on and on about where we could get confidential advice if there was anything worrying us.

I spent the entire assembly looking at the floor and avoiding eye contact with anyone. I could feel people looking at me and nudging each other; it reminded me of the basketball incident, but about fifty times worse.

Now, though, it's starting to become old news at school. I wonder how Alex would feel about this if she knew. I know that she wrote in her letters that she didn't want people talking about her, but part of me thinks she'd be a lot more upset to think that people had stopped talking about her. Moved on.

Exams are over and the sixth form has mostly left. I've seen Sara a few times and she always smiles and waves at me, but she's getting ready to go to university and she's got no reason to talk to me. I didn't even like her very much when she was Alex's friend, but I wouldn't mind a chat with her now and then, just to help me remember what it used to be like.

I'm sort of dreading the holidays. It'll just be Mum and me for six long weeks and I'm not sure how we're going to fill our time. Talking about Alex probably. Mum wondered for a while if we could go on holiday to Switzerland and I got really excited. I thought we could show Alex how much we love her and then she'd want to come back with us at the end of the holiday. But it can't happen; it costs too much money for one thing and we can't leave Granny and Grandpa for another.

Granny's getting a carer in to help out with Grandpa. Mum was furious when she found out, but Granny told her she's putting her foot down and that if Mum doesn't have a rest soon then she's going to go mental. Or words to that effect. Granny thought she was doing Mum a favour, but Mum explained to me that the carer will only come for five days and that by the time we got to Switzerland we'd have to come back again. She said she'd spoken to Alex about it and Alex isn't ready to see us yet anyway. Mum phones about three times a week and speaks to her for ages, but I don't think they really talk about any of the things that actually matter. I hear Mum telling Alex about our week and asking her what she's
up to, but it never sounds like they're talking properly – not like they used to.

I heard Mum on the phone the other day to Charlie's mum. She didn't know I was listening, but I was just walking past and, when I realized who she was talking to, I couldn't just walk away. So I hid on the top stair where I was out of sight, but could still hear Mum's side of the conversation. It was a bit hard to piece together what they were saying, but Mum didn't sound angry with Charlie's mum, which I thought was surprising because I reckon it's mostly his fault that this is all happening in the first place. I did manage to work out that they've got a plan though. Mum told Charlie's mum that she's being firm but fair with Alex. She said that she phones several times a week, but that she isn't going to force Alex to take her help – that ‘those kids need to take responsibility for their actions'. Then she did a lot of ‘uh-huhing' and ‘yes, I know' while Charlie's mum did the talking.

Mum was really quiet when she came off the phone. I asked her later on when we were peeling potatoes for supper if she hated Alex. She threw down her peeler and looked at me in total horror.

‘I could never hate Alex,' she told me. ‘Or you. I thought you girls knew that?'

‘So why won't you help her?' I asked. I didn't want to upset her or make the evening horrible, but I couldn't help feeling that Mum had abandoned Alex.

‘I will help her, but she has to be ready to take my help,' Mum said. ‘Right now she's trying on her own and she needs to see how that works out for her. Maybe it'll all be great and then I'll be pleased for her, and we can figure out what she needs from us, but maybe she'll decide that she was a bit quick to strike out alone and that she'd rather have some support. All she has to do is ask.'

I thought about this for a while, peeling more potatoes. I can't imagine Alex asking for help – that'd be like admitting she was wrong or had failed.

‘What if she doesn't ask?' I said to Mum. She stared out of the window and then told me that she had to let Alex make that choice on her own. That Mum would always be there when Alex decided that she wanted her.

This is why I'm not particularly looking forward to the holidays. Endless weeks wondering what Alex is doing, and hoping that she's OK, and trying not to think about other brilliant
summers when we all went on holiday together and had so much fun.

I'm lying in the garden on a rug, trying to relax in the sunshine. Nobody has given us any homework for ages now, which means that I have absolutely nothing to do when I get home from school. I've decided that a person does not have to go all the way to Switzerland to enjoy good weather so I've dragged a rug on to the lawn and brought my book, and I'm trying to get into the holiday spirit.

Just as I start
chapter six
a shadow falls across my page. I groan – that is so utterly typical. It took me ages to get all sorted out here and now that I'm just starting to relax the sun has decided to disappear.

‘That's a nice greeting!' says a voice and I look up to see Finn standing above me. ‘Here's me bringing you a delicious ice cream and you just groan!'

I sit up quickly and take the dripping ice cream out of his hands.

‘Yummy – thanks, Finn!' I say, licking the drips that are running down the cone and threatening to fall on to my hand. ‘What's this for?'

‘Can I not bring my favourite neighbour an ice cream on a hot day?' jokes Finn, sitting down next to me on the rug and stretching out his legs. He licks his own ice cream and we sit in silence for a moment, and the only sounds are the slurping noises we make as we try to beat the heat and eat the ice creams before they melt.

‘And I felt a bit bad,' he says, finishing the last of his cone before I've even managed to get halfway. I don't know how boys manage to eat so quickly: it's like they don't want to enjoy their food, they just want it eaten.

‘Why do you feel bad?' I ask him.

‘Because I've not been over lately. Not since Alex – well, you know.'

‘Don't worry about it,' I tell him. ‘Everything's different since she left.'

I watch an ant scurrying across the grass towards a few drops of ice cream that have fallen on to the ground. Some friends quickly join it and I wonder what they're saying to each other. Maybe stuff like ‘Come over here – there's an ice-cream mountain!' and ‘It's a miracle, sent from heaven – quick, quick, eat it up before it goes for good!'

‘But just because she's gone doesn't mean we can't still hang out, does it?' asks Finn and I look at him and smile. I know it won't happen really. Finn's got work and friends and band practice – he hasn't got time to hang around with me. But I've missed him a lot. I never realized how much time he spent in our house. I think about the fact that, when Alex left, we lost more than just her that day.

‘We can hang out, Finn,' I tell him. ‘But I need to warn you that I've got a crazy social life going on at the moment. I can't be there for you the way I used to be.'

Finn laughs and ruffles my hair and then stands up.

‘See you around, Izzy,' he says.

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever,' I reply, busying myself with smoothing my hair down so that he won't see me looking sad.

‘You know where I am,' he tells me and then walks towards the garden gate.

‘Thanks for the ice cream!' I yell after him and he puts his hand in the air, but keeps walking away. I hope this isn't going to be a theme for me: people leaving. I wonder when I'll be old enough to be the one who does the walking away.

Dear Mum,

It's been a fantastic day today. This morning we packed a picnic of cheese, bread, chocolate biscuits and oranges and went on a walk up a mountain. We followed a little path through the forest that ran alongside a really fast river. We never got to the top because around lunchtime we came out of the forest into a beautiful meadow full of flowers. It looked like something out of The Sound of Music! I was feeling a bit tired and the baby was kicking and it was really hot so we stayed there for hours, eating our picnic and sunbathing and splashing in the water – which is totally freezing by the way! It was an amazing way to spend my birthday. Can you believe it, I'm finally eighteen! Thanks so much for the money you sent – it'll come in really useful.

Can you believe that I can feel the baby move?! It's such a strange feeling, like having a stomach full of goldfish. I'm getting really fat now too and I had no idea that I'd feel so tired all the time.

Charlie's been talking to his Uncle Rob about what we'd have to do to stay out here for good. Uncle Rob is going to make enquiries for us and let us know. I know that you might not want to hear that, but everything's working out totally perfectly and we'd really like to live here and have the baby grow up in such a beautiful place.

I've been doing a bit of ironing for the hotel and have earned some of my own cash, which is great! And guess what I bought with my wages? A real, genuine cuckoo clock! Totally handmade in Switzerland! It works really well most of the time and it looks brilliant on the wall in our room. Charlie said I should have bought something more useful (it cost one whole week's wages) but I told him that it was a bargain because it's multi-purpose. It tells the time, makes our room look like a real home and makes me laugh every time the cuckoo pops out! Like three for the price of one, I told Charlie. He's an old grouch though and made me stop it at bedtime because he said he's tired enough without being woken up every hour by a stupid bird!

It's early evening now and Charlie's at work again. I'm sitting under a tree outside our chalet and it's still really hot. I'm going to visit the doctor any day now, as soon as Monique sorts out an appointment for me. Everyone is making me feel very looked after.

I hope you're both OK and getting used to me not being around. I'm still missing you, but it's all fine here.

Love you forever,

Alex xxx

PS Have you kept my bedroom the same? You said in your last email that you've done a major spring-clean – I hope you've not got rid of my stuff??!!

I never thought I'd be glad to be going back to school, but it feels like this summer holiday has lasted forever. I've spent so much time in the library in town that I could virtually run the place. I know all about how they organize the books and the other day, when I overheard a lady asking where she could find a book on gardening, I answered her before the librarian did. It was incredibly embarrassing.

Early on in the holidays Mum and I went camping. It was a complete disaster. It rained virtually every day and the only day that it was sunny I got stung by a wasp. Our tent is really old and has a rip in the roof so all our clothes got wet. I had to use Alex's sleeping bag and it was only a two season – but camping in England in the summer definitely requires more of a four-season attitude. Mum tried really hard to make it
fun, but it was just too weird without Alex. Not that I'm going to tell Alex that. I don't want her thinking that we can't have a nice time unless she's there. So I wrote her a letter saying how amazing it all was. I didn't tell her anything about how I'm actually feeling because I can't trust her any more. Actually, I'm quite surprised by how easy it is to lie if you write the lies in a letter; it makes me wonder if everything Alex writes in her letters is the actual, honest truth. Maybe it isn't as fantastic in Switzerland as she says it is.

The weather's rubbish too. The second we broke up for the holidays it started to rain and it hasn't really let up. Even the ice-cream van has stopped coming down our road and he never normally lets a bit of bad weather put him off: one year I saw him out there in December, trying to sell ice lollies to kids wrapped up in gloves and hats and scarves.

I've seen Hannah a few times, but she went away to Spain for a fortnight with her family and then her cousin came to stay so she's not been around much. When we got back home from camping, Mum felt bad about leaving Granny and Grandpa, so we've spent most days popping over to their house. Mum and Granny mostly sit
around talking non-stop about Alex and the baby. I've played my violin for Grandpa a few times, but I can't really be bothered to practise as much as I usually would; now there's no chance of me ever being a member of On the Rocks I can't really see the point of carrying on with the violin. The rest of the time I've just sat quietly, listening to them going on and on. I think it's fair to say that it has probably been the worst, most boring summer ever and I'm glad that school's starting tomorrow. Maybe life can get back to a bit of normality now.