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Authors: Cathy Hopkins

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BOOK: Expecting to Fly
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‘Hey, India Jane,’ said Aunt Sarah. ‘No one’s going anywhere. I’ve been telling your mum.’

‘So why were you talking about Tom moving in here?’

‘Ah. So you heard,’ said Aunt Sarah. ‘Early days. The lease is up on the house he is renting and we have talked about him moving but, even if he does come, I won’t be
throwing you out. You don’t need to worry. We can all live here. It’s a big house. If it happens, and it’s still an enormous
if
at the moment, Tom can be in with me and the
boys can share the spare room. There’s loads of space for all of us.’

‘But this is Sarah’s home, India Jane,’ said Mum quietly. ‘We never meant to stay for ever.’

I had to get out. I felt like I was going to say something awful or cry if I stayed. I wasn’t quite sure why I was being so emotional. I’m not normally. Maybe because, even though it
was Aunt Sarah’s place, it did feel like home. I liked living there a lot.

Aunt Sarah picked up on my thoughts. ‘It’s your home too, India Jane. You have no need to worry. I’m not throwing anyone out on the street.’

I pushed past Mum to get out as Dylan came in. ‘What’s to eat?’ he asked, then looked around. ‘What’s going on? Who died?’

‘You will,’ I said, ‘if you don’t get out of my way.’

‘And have a nice day to you, too,’ he said. ‘What’s your problem? Got your period?’

Twelve-year-old boys can be very irritating at times, especially know-it-all ones like my cherub-looking brother.

‘No, I have not got my period,’ I said.

‘Then chill out. Oh and Tyler called when you were out. I said you’d gone to meet Joe.’

‘You
what
?’ No! ‘Why did you tell him that? And what’s more, how did you even know where I’d gone?’

Dylan tapped his nose.

‘If you’ve been reading my diary or my emails again, I
will
kill you,’ I said.

Dylan looked over at Mum and shrugged. ‘Do you see now what I have to put up with? Psycho sister.’

Argh, argh, argh,
I thought as I went out into the hall to find my mobile in my rucksack. Tyler was a lovely boy I had met last year. He came to my rescue after I’d been mugged,
then we’d been on a few dates. I liked him. I did. Just not as much as Joe. I had thought about seeing more of him, but I knew that I’d have to tell him that Joe and I were going to be
an item now. I would have done anyway but wanted to do it in my own time and I’d much rather that it came from me, not my nosey-parker brother. I found Tyler’s number on my phone and
called. His voicemail picked up.

‘Oh, um, hi Tyler, India Jane here. Returning your call. Er. Maybe see you around?’ I hoped that was casual enough, friendly but not encouraging. I didn’t want to tell him
about dating Joe on his voicemail, but I promised myself that I would if he called back.

Duty done, I took the stairs two at a time up to my room where Posh and Becks, my black and white kittens, were sleeping on the end of my bed. The sight of them made the tears that had been
threatening earlier spill out down my cheeks and I let out a loud sob. The idea that they might be homeless or that I might have to leave them was too much. I lay on my bed and had a good cry,
causing Posh to raise one sleepy eye and look at me with concern.

‘Don’t you worry, Posh, I’ll look after you,’ I said. ‘I won’t let Mum and Dad drag you to different countries the way they have me, making me leave my
friends over and over.’

Becks meowed as if he was agreeing.

After I was all cried out for the time being, I went to the bathroom. My period had arrived. Dylan, the little nuisance, had been right. And it was true, I did sometimes feel ratty when it was
coming up to the time of the month and I would cry at the drop of a hat.
Even so
, I thought,
it’s very annoying to be reminded of it by a small boy
.

As the first weeks of January went by, there was no more mention of moving out or Tom and his boys moving in. Most of my time was taken up with schoolwork and urg, yuk, argh,
we had exams and assessments. I did my best – studied every night, lunchtime, breaktime, but, because I’d only joined the school last September and the syllabus was different to my
previous school, I knew that I was behind my classmates. Ten subjects and each with a ton of homework. Mrs Goldman, our head of year, had been very supportive last term but, halfway through
January, she called me into her office where she was sitting behind her desk looking, to my mind, like a big blond friendly rabbit. I see people as creatures sometimes and it’s probably Mrs
Goldman’s long face and slightly large teeth that give her the bunny look. One day I will do a series of paintings of people as the animals I see in them.

‘I know it’s been a readjustment for you, India,’ she said, as I sat in the chair that she indicated opposite her, ‘but this is your second term here now and you need to
buck up your ideas if you’re going to stand any chance of decent results.’

‘I’m doing my best, Mrs Goldman,’ I said.

‘I think you need to do more than that if you don’t want to end up repeating your exams or even the year.’

I really didn’t want to do that but it was true – I was struggling. I had opted to do ten subjects: art, English language, English literature, maths, science, French, RE, media,
history and music. Sometimes it felt like I was
always
studying and, lately, I also felt a sense of panic, like there wasn’t enough time to give each subject the attention it
needed.

‘I’ll study harder,’ I said but, as I said the words, I felt a knot in my stomach. More studying meant more time away from Joe. Since we’d agreed to go out, apart from
hanging out at each other’s houses a few times, we’d only had two proper dates, one to a movie and another for a walk in Holland Park, where we almost froze to death. Both times,
I’d felt guilty, like I was skiving when I should have been home working and I didn’t want to feel like that around him. Having waited a whole term to be his girlfriend, I wanted to
luxuriate in every moment and hang out with him as often as possible.

Mrs Goldman looked at me with concern. ‘Sometimes you have to come at your subjects another way otherwise you can get stressed. If you can incorporate some of your study into time off, it
won’t seem like work.’

I couldn’t imagine how I could do that and my blank expression must have betrayed my feelings.

‘Is there anyone you can study with, India Jane?’

I nodded. ‘Maybe.’ Not Brook. I’d tried with her and we ended up swapping make-up tips. Same with Leela although, instead of make-up, we’d listened to music. Zahrah
wasn’t really into studying with anyone else. She said it distracted her.

‘Your best subjects are art and English. How about a theatre visit to see a play on the syllabus or an art gallery trip to see the work of some of the artists that you’re studying?
That’s the sort of thing I meant,’ Mrs Goldman continued. ‘So you’re working but not.’

I felt a light ping on in my head. Joe. He was doing art A-level. I’d never thought of him as a study partner, but he’d be brilliant. I grinned at Mrs Goldman. ‘Yes. Of course.
I know exactly who I can study with. Excellent,’ I said. ‘Thank you so much.’

‘You’re welcome,’ she said.

I linked arms with Joe as we made our way down the South Bank the following Saturday. I’d emailed him as soon as I had got home on the evening after my session with Mrs
Goldman and he seemed to like the idea of exploring London for his projects as well as mine. After that, I had spent a pleasurable hour on the computer working out an itinerary for us for the next
few weekends. Bliss.

‘We can see Picasso at Tate Modern,’ I said, as we passed a man dressed in medieval clothes and sprayed gold who had a small crowd around him. ‘But we can do all the other
floors there too, if you like.’

Joe didn’t appear to be listening. He pulled us to a stop to watch the gold man who was sitting on a box. ‘I’ve seen this guy before. He’s amazing. Watch. He never
blinks. I’ve stood and watched him for ages and never caught him out, it’s like he’s zoned out somewhere.’

‘I wonder how long it takes him to spray on that colour every morning,’ I whispered back.

Joe chuckled. ‘Yeah. Weird, isn’t it? Like, most people getting ready for work put on a suit or something. This guy gets out the spray can.’

We stood and watched for a while and the man was completely motionless – not a blink, even when tourists tried to distract him by snapping their fingers in front of his face or sneezing
loudly. I was drawn into the stillness of the moment and light-headed with happiness, like I was floating on the fluffiest cloud in the sky. It was so good to be there with Joe sharing the whole
experience – the crisp, cold but sunny day, the River Thames with the boats running along to our left, the sensation of Joe’s body next to mine, warm, his arm linked with mine, me being
his girlfriend. We were a couple, Joe and India Jane, an item, going out and this was just the beginning.

‘Living art,’ said Joe, as we set off again a few minutes later. As we strolled along, we passed a few different mime artists – a man dressed as a pearly king, who was having
his photo taken with a Japanese tourist, a witch girl with a green face, a spaceman in high silver boots, but none of them were as good as Gold Man.

At Tate Modern, we cruised a photography exhibition together on the second floor, then we went off to look at galleries that were related to our individual studies. I was totally blown away by
the work on display – bursts of colour and energy which sparked off loads of ideas of my own. After an hour, we met up on the balcony overlooking the river. There was a fabulous view of
London and the river spread out in front of us. Joe took some photos, then we got a table, shared an enormous cheese and tomato baguette which we washed down with Diet Coke. I felt so grown-up and
for once the panic about study had subsided.

‘We had career advisers last week,’ I told him when we’d finished the last crumb. ‘I haven’t a clue what I want to do, not really. Something to do with art I think,
but what I don’t know.’

‘Me neither,’ said Joe. ‘I don’t reckon you have to decide yet.’

‘I do, sort of – we have to decide what subjects to take next year, for Sixth Form.’

‘Choose art then. You can always change. Nothing is set in concrete.’

‘I guess. And actually, I’m not sure yet but we might have to move from my Aunt Sarah’s house.’

‘Where to?’

‘Knowing Dad, it might be anywhere. Thailand. Peru. The Outer Hebrides. You’ve met him so know what he’s like. So restless.’

‘He’s great and it would be fantastic if he picks somewhere you haven’t been yet. Cool. I reckon that seeing as much of the planet as possible is what life is all
about.’

Joe’s reaction was not what I had been hoping for, although probably to be expected as Joe got on well with Dad – like they were old pals, in fact. But I wanted Joe to ask, What
about us? To say that Dad couldn’t take me too far away because he’d miss me, but he didn’t seem phased by the news at all. I wanted to see that he cared in the same way that
Leela, Brook and Zahrah had when I had told them that I might be moving again. They were so upset. Brook said I could stay with her and share her room, Leela said she’d read up on how to do a
‘stay put’ spell to cast on Dad and Zahrah had given me a big hug. But Joe was so laid-back. You might move away? Whatever. He rarely showed his emotions. Suddenly a thought occurred to
me. Joe was doing his A-level exams this year. I knew that he had applied for places at London universities, but loads of people these days took gap years. In fact, Joe had talked about the
possibility of going abroad a few times, but I’d never thought about it actually happening. Maybe he had been serious, maybe
he’d
be leaving London!

‘Er . . . What about you?’ I asked trying to make my voice sound as casual as possible. ‘Um. I know that you have applied to some universities but I remember you also talking
about travelling. Er . . . have you decided yet?’

Joe shrugged. ‘Nothing’s definite, but I think I do want to take a gap year. Me and my mate Sam have talked about it. Maybe do those places you mentioned. Thailand, maybe Peru, maybe
see you in one of those places if you go. I’d like to see the world before getting stuck into doing a degree or whatever. Maybe climb Machu Picchu. Maybe spend a few weeks back in Greece to
earn some dosh. We’ll need a fair bit to travel with, even though Mum and Dad said that they might chip in.’

The soft cloud I had been floating around on all day suddenly turned black and heavy with rain.
Nooooooooooooo
, I heard a voice inside myself groan.
Nothing is for ever. Nothing good
ever lasts.

Joe put a finger under my chin and tilted my face up to look at him. ‘Hey, you OK? You’ve gone very quiet.’

I didn’t want him to see that I was freaked out by his plan to travel. What would he think? Maybe that it was presumptuous for me to be thinking that we would even still be together in six
months’ or a year’s time? We’d agreed to be a couple for now, not for ever. The fact that I saw us as long-term might scare a commitment-phobe like Joe right off. I made myself
smile. ‘I was just thinking what a great afternoon this has been. And now, this moment. I love the view of the river from up here – London at its best. I was being all Zen and thinking,
I have to be in the here and now, appreciate the present – not worry about the future and what I am going to do.’
Or what you’re going to do
, I thought.

BOOK: Expecting to Fly
6.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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