183 Times a Year (48 page)

‘Did ever live in France?'

‘No, not that I'm aware of. Why?'

I look at my phone again and re-read the page. Nicolas Flamel wife's name was Perenelle. I write it down.

P
ERENELLE

PEREN–ELLE

‘What's Nan's name?'

‘What an absurd question,' Mum replies. ‘You know what Nan's name is. It's Elle. But everyone just calls her Ellie. You know that though.'

‘Is her name short for something else?'

‘No. At least, I don't think so. Why all the questions?'

‘No reason,' I reply.

‘Are you sure she hasn't had a bang to the head?' Simon asks Mum. They both laugh.

‘I'm not so bloody sure sometimes,' Mum replies.

I put my earphones back in and close my eyes. I've got this all wrong, surely I have? This is real life and things like this don't happen in real life. It doesn't matter anyhow coz Mum's fine and according to Connor if I want to keep it like that I can't talk about it anyway. I try to doze off but my thoughts are troubled.

Chapter 47

WHO WANTS TO LIVE FOREVER …?

CASSIE

We stop off at Nan and Grandad's house to collect Connor and stay for a quick cuppa and a chat. Freddy barks and wags his tail excitedly. He's like well pleased to see us. Anyone would think it's been years not hours since he last laid eyes on us. He brings his new toy over to me and drops it at my feet for me to throw. I pick it up and quickly hurl it in the air coz it's like well rank, covered in dog spit and stuff.

Grandad brings in a tray full of steaming hot mugs of tea and Nan has baked a bread pudding. Sorted. They ask me what I thought of the Uni. I tell them it looked like a prison but some of the boys were like well fit. I keep looking at them all – Nan and Grandad and even Connor to see if I can see something I didn't before, if they act strange or weird. They don't though. Nothing is out of place. Nothing is different. Besides, I couldn't say anything if it was. I suddenly have an idea though.

‘Just nipping to the loo,' I say.

Instead of going to the bathroom I go into the kitchen and open the small draw below the glass display cabinet and start rummaging through it. I know Nan keeps hers and Grandad's passports in here and I just want to check something. Yesss! I find their passports. I flick them open, quickly discarding Grandad's. Then I look at Nan's. According to this she was born
in
1950, surname is Lemalf and forename is …

PERENELLE. Oh my fucking god.

‘Booooo,' Grandad shouts behind me.

‘Arrrrgggghhh!' I scream, dropping Nan's passport on the floor.

‘Wha chooo bleedin app to?' Grandad says.

‘No one, I mean Tuesday, I mean nothing,' I reply.

Grandad looks straight into my eyes and smiles at me, a lovely, big, familiar, saggy, craggy smile. His face looks old but his eyes are young and full of mischief.

‘Grandad?'

‘Yes Cassie.'

‘If you made a promise to someone but then broke it coz you needed to ask someone something, would it be wrong?'

‘I think you're old enough to answer that question yourself Cassie.'

I sigh heavily. That wasn't the answer I was looking for.

‘But, if you can accept karma …' Grandad continues.

‘What do you mean karma?'

‘That every cause has an effect.' I must look as confused as I feel coz now Grandad sighs heavily. ‘If you can accept the consequences of your actions then do what you must Cassie.'

‘Huuummmpphh. Okay. Can I ask another question?'

‘Ask away.'

‘If you were rich …‘

‘I am rich.' Grandad interrupts. ‘Really?'

‘Course I bleedin am.'

‘What, like loads of money rich?'

‘Money? Who mentioned money? I'm talking about family and love. Richest man in the world in that department, and that's all that really counts at the end of the day. Turn the radio up Cassie,' Grandad says bending down to pick up Nan's passport from the floor, ‘I love this song.'

‘
Oh, okay,' I reply swinging round in confusion. I didn't know the radio was on? ‘What song is it?' I ask reaching to turn the radio up only to find it isn't on after all. I press the power button anyway.

Grandad winks at me as the powerful vocals of Freddie Mercury sing across the kitchen.

‘
Who Wants To Live Forever
– by Queen,' Grandad replies.

Chapter 48

LETTING GO

‘Why are you crying?' I ask her.

‘Just because,' she replies moodily.

‘Come on now, stop that,' I continue a little irritated by her childishness. ‘That's a silly answer and you know it is.'

'But it's so far away,' she continues, lip trembling. ‘You'll forget all about me. I won't be important anymore.'

I laugh at her. ‘How can I ever forget you and why for that matter would I want to?' The tears roll freely down her face. They are tears without pride or prejudice, her vulnerability cold and bear before me.

‘Because I'm a pain in the arse,' she whimpers.

She suddenly seems, tiny, fragile. My throat tightens as I attempt a useless fight against my own tears. I carefully wrap my arms around her and hold her close.

‘I thought you wanted this?' I whisper in her ear. ‘It's always been my dream, but I thought it was yours too?'

‘It is,' she replies sobbing. ‘It's just hit me though, how scary it is. All those miles away from home, not knowing anyone. Please stay in touch,' she pleads. ‘Promise you won't forget about me?'

I am totally taken aback by her directness; her raw and exposed openness frightens me a little.

‘Yes but think of all those new people to meet, all those wonderful experiences and opportunities just there for the taking,' I continue in my best reassuring voice. ‘And you have your mobile phone so we can text and FaceTime and email. We
can
talk everyday if you want?'

‘I will,' she continues sobbing. ‘Every day, at least twice a day,' she adds.

I laugh again and draw her to me. I gently pull the tear soaked hair away from her face and rock her gently. ‘I'm so proud of you.' Evidently these are five words too many and only serve to open the floodgates of her tears even wider.

‘And … I'mmm … so … pr – oud … of … you … too,' she replies.

I continue rocking her and stroking the side of her face. Simon walks in and looks at us.

‘She at it again?' he asks, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. ‘She was the same last night you know? And she reckons you two aren't alike! It's only university, not another bloody planet; it's not even another country for that matter.' Simon's sounds exasperated but amused at the same time.

‘It might just as well be,' she mumbles, her head buried in my chest.

Simon mouths to me that he'll leave us to it and departs as quickly as he arrived.

We sit, quietly, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. The smell of her freshly washed hair and her favourite perfume, slightly jaded by the passing of the hours, fills my nostrils. I slowly pull her away from me, grabbing her tear stained cheeks imploring her, without words, to look at me.

‘You did it Mum,' I tell her. ‘Despite all the hardship, the struggles, emotional as well as financial, you did the best possible job of raising the life you brought into this world and surpassed your ability with more love than anyone could ever dare to hope for. And this is where it was all leading to Mum, this moment. This moment when I spread my wings and – thanks to you – fly. I'm about to fly Mum and it's all because of you.'

Mum looks at me, pressing both her lips together with the
vague
hope, I think, of suppressing the continual flow of tears from her eyes – which of course it doesn't. She nods her head up and down in agreement.

‘I love you Cassie,' she finally manages to whisper. ‘I love you so much.'

‘I know you do Mum,' I reply. ‘I love you too.'

Chapter 49

A PERFECT LIFE

LIZZIE

‘Okay Mum,' Maisy says. ‘We really have to go now but give our love to everyone and I'll call you again in a few days.'

‘Yeah, bye Liz,' Crazee speaks over Maisy's shoulder. ‘Tell Simon to ged his arse in gear and sord samthin out for you two to come visit.'

Crazee's Australian accent is noticeably strong compared to Maisy's, although I have noticed a bit of a twang in her vernacular of late.

I laugh. ‘Okay, I will.'

‘Byyyyeeee,' they both say in unison then the screen goes blank.

That was nice. Australia suits Maisy and so, it would appear, does Crazee. I suppose that's the good thing about technology – although she's thousands of miles away she still feels close.

Oh well, it hasn't been a bad day and with today's contribution I've already written ten thousand words for my book. I took Nigel's advice, sat down one morning and just started to write. I'm not sure the world's ready for what I have to say, but we'll see. If nothing else, I'm finding it extremely cathartic.

Now, time to pack my laptop away and get ready to feed the five thousand.

Cassie's coming home for the weekend.

I throw a couple of pizzas in the oven and switch on the CD player. Think I'll listen to
Moby
today. As I start to prepare
the
salad the first song begins to play. I smile. It's one of my favourite's –
Perfect Life.

What is the perfect life?

Sometimes, I think we're all so busy striving for the perfect life we fail to see what we've actually got. I look up as the door crashes open, interrupting my thoughts.

‘Look who's here,' Simon says, standing behind a slightly bedraggled but smiling Cassie.

‘Hey Mum,' she says dragging in a bag that looks big enough and heavy enough to contain a dead body. ‘Washing?' she says wincing. ‘Do you mind?'

I laugh. ‘Give us a hug.' Cassie strides towards me and drapes herself across my shoulders.

‘Hey Cas,' a deep voice speaks behind us.

‘Bloody hell Connor, your voice has like well dropped.'

He coughs. ‘Ahem. Yeah, well … how's Uni?'

‘Manic, crazy but yeah, good I think.'

‘Sick,' Connor replies, his face reddening a little. ‘Well, err, this is, ummm, Samara – my, ummm, girlfriend,' he says, stepping aside as a slightly embarrassed blonde girl wearing black skinnies and a black
Iron Maiden
tee shirt emerges from behind him.

‘Hi,' she says, lifting her hand in a half-hearted wave.

‘Well is it now! Hello Samara, I'm Connor's big sister. Welcome to the bloody madhouse. Anything you wanna know about him,' Cassie nods at Connor, ‘let me know and I'll happily dish the dirt.'