Apple and Rain (16 page)

‘Do you want some olives?’ I ask.

Egan chews his bottom lip, almost twitchily, and finishes his beer. I’ve never been close enough to notice his eyes before – creamy brown like freshly fallen conkers. ‘We stopped for kebabs before we got here,’ Egan says. ‘Can I have a Coke or something?’

‘Yes, yes of course,’ I say. I almost fall over, clambering to the fridge to get him a can before he changes his mind and goes home.

He takes it from me and flicks the ring pull. ‘Got a glass?’

‘Oh yeah, sorry.’

‘I’ll get it, don’t worry,’ he says. He puts his hand on my arm and my stomach clenches. He goes off to find a glass. But he doesn’t come back and stand with me; he edges his way to the window where Mum and her smoking friends are laughing and clinking glasses. After a few minutes he is laughing and clinking with them. I’m stuck with his friends who are now on to the subject of video games. They are comparing tactics for getting through early levels of a game I’ve never heard of. It’s as dull as it can get, and even though I’m trying to be polite, I just want to be with Egan and Mum. When there’s a pause in the conversation, I tell them I have to go and check on my sister, and sneak off to the bathroom to reapply my lipstick.

It’s dark and I almost scream when I close the bathroom door and turn on the light. Rain is perched on the toilet. Luckily the seat is down, but she’s unwound all the toilet roll and is sitting with half of it on her lap. Her eyes are bloodshot. She’s been crying again. ‘You’ve got to stop hiding in here. It’s creeping me out,’ I hiss.

‘I told you before that if you don’t like how it is, you should go back to your nana.’ She blows her nose on her sleeve. Jenny’s not with her.

Anger blisters through me. I’ve been nice to her all day and she repays me by being nasty. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ I say. ‘So you’d better get used to it.’

‘Mom only prefers you because you’re new. When she’s bored, she’ll dump you and I’ll be the favourite again. When we were in America, she never mentioned you. She told everyone I was her only child.’

I feel like I’ve been punched in the guts. Maybe this is true, but I didn’t want to know it.

My eyes sting. I bite my thumb to stop myself crying. Looking in the mirror, I paste on the lipstick as thick as I can. Mum’s left her make-up on the sink. I brush a bit of mascara through my eyelashes and dab some creamy blush on my cheeks too.

‘Is that boy here?’ Rain asks.

I ignore her and inspect my legs. They’re pale and lumpy above the knee.

‘When is everyone going home?’ Rain asks. Her voice has lost its sharp edge.

‘Put that toilet roll back on the holder. It’s all we’ve got left,’ I tell her and storm off.

In the sitting room, Mum, Egan and her smoking friends are now sitting in a circle on the floor. Loads of other guests have joined them, including Andrew and Dean.

When Mum sees me, she waves me over. ‘We’re playing Truth or Dare. I’m terrified this bottle’s going to make us all give away our pin numbers!’

I sit next to Mum on the carpet. My dress rides up. I watch Merlin spin the empty wine bottle.

‘Truth or dare?’ I ask. It looks scarily like a game of Spin the Bottle.

‘You spin it and whoever it lands on has to answer your question or do a dare,’ Mum says.

The bottle stops spinning and points at Gina. She rolls her eyes.

Merlin rubs his hands together. ‘Truth or dare?’ he asks.

‘This is stupid. I’m not telling you lot anything!’ Gina says.

‘If you didn’t want to play, you shouldn’t have sat down!’ Mum says. She doesn’t seem to be able to keep her cali­mocho in the glass and it sloshes all over my legs. ‘Sorry, love,’ she says, wiping away the spill with a corner of her silk scarf.

Mum gulps down the rest of the glass and points it at Gina. ‘When was the last time you picked your nose?’ she says. She hoots like this is the funniest thing ever. Andrew and Dean hoot too. It’s a bit like being in primary school.

‘Not fair. It’s my question,’ Merlin says. No one is listening to him.

‘Today!’ Gina says, and sticks her middle finger right up her nose. Everyone falls about laughing. I can’t help giggling a bit.

‘My turn,’ Mum says. She leans for the bottle and spins it so hard it slides across the floor. We all watch it slow down until it stops. And it’s pointing at Egan. I stiffen. Mum extends her arm as far forward as she can. She makes little circles with her finger in Egan’s face.

Egan locks eyes with Mum.

‘Truth or dare?’ Mum asks.

Egan pushes his hair out of his face. His chestnut eyes glint in the light. ‘Go on then, dare me to do something,’ he says. He smiles and rubs the end of his nose. He doesn’t look frightened.

Mum glances around the room, looking for an idea. Then she points at me. ‘I dare you to kiss Apple,’ she says.

Everyone screeches. They think this is the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. Gina rolls on the floor in hysterics.

But Egan isn’t laughing. He is gazing at me.

‘You chose a dare,’ Mum says. She leans in to me and whispers. ‘Is this the best party or what?’

I wait for Egan to say no.
No way
. I wait for him to tell Mum she’s unhinged and inappropriate and stand up and storm out of the party. I don’t know how I’ll ever show my face at orchestra again. It’s too much.

I drop my head in my hands.

Then I hear Egan’s voice. ‘No biggie,’ he says.

I look up.

‘Are you serious, mate? She’s eleven,’ Dean says.

‘She’s almost fourteen,’ Mum says, which isn’t true – I’m not fourteen for another nine months.

‘Fourteen’s all right,’ Andrew says. He elbows Egan, egging him on.

Egan gets on his hands and knees and crawls forward. Before I know what’s happening, his face is so close I can see every little fleck in his eyes like pieces of stars. His breath still smells of the beer.

And then it happens.

Egan’s lips touch mine.

They’re warm and wet and after a second he presses them harder. My stomach flips, but not in a happy or excited way. I think I’m going to be sick. I inhale deeply as he pulls away. He wipes his mouth on his sleeve.

‘There,’ he says. He gulps down some Coke.

Everyone cheers.

Mum claps. ‘Well done, Egan. You can come to all our parties.’

I am unable to move. I don’t know what’s happened. I’ve kissed Egan Winters, or
he’s
kissed
me
. And even though it’s what I’ve dreamed about for such a long time, it wasn’t private or special or anything I imagined it would be. It was a joke and everyone was watching. It was a game.

And it was horrible.

I want to run away. I want to shout at Mum for making this happen.

Andrew and Dean are squawking like a pair of parakeets. Andrew smacks Egan on the back like he’s just won an Olympic medal. Egan Winters is looking at me carefully, almost apologetically.

I sit really still and focus hard on the swirls in the old red carpet. If I get up straight away everyone will know I’m upset. I don’t want them to think I’m a spoilsport. I wait until the bottle has been spun a few times then sneak off to my bedroom.

Rain is snoring and has one leg hanging over the side of her bunk. I turn off the light and crawl in under my duvet, still wearing my dress and shoes. I don’t know how Rain can sleep: the music sounds like it’s coming from speakers in our room. No matter how far I push my fingers into my ears, I can still hear it booming. I wish everyone would go home.

I curl into a tight ball and eventually I must manage to fall asleep, because when I open my eyes the flat is quiet.

I creep into the sitting room. Mum’s sleeping on the couch fully clothed. A cigarette is smouldering in an empty wine glass. I stub it out and pull off Mum’s boots. One of her big toes is poking through a hole in her tights.

All the lights have been left on, and the window is still wide open. Icy air whistles through the flat.

I close and lock the window and fill the dishwasher with as many glasses and dishes as I can fit into it – if I don’t turn it on, we’ll have nothing clean to eat or drink from tomorrow.

On the floor is a blue baseball cap. Egan’s. I lift it to my nose and sniff. It smells of sweat, like any other hat would. I put it on my head and wipe down the worktop, dusty with ash.

Mum stirs. ‘Apple? Why did you disappear? Everyone was asking for you.’

‘I got tired, Mum.’

‘I don’t blame you.’ She yawns and sits up. ‘Egan wanted to thank you for the party. I told him it was all your idea.’

‘Really?’

Mum stands up. ‘Yeah. I think he likes you.’

‘No, he doesn’t.’

‘He kissed you.’

‘But it was a dare.’

‘If I dared you to kiss Merlin, would you?’ she asks.

I imagine Merlin’s long, shiny nose touching mine. ‘No way.’

Mum stands up and yawns again. She covers her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘I’m exhausted. And I’ve got to call a load of agents tomorrow.’ She makes for the corridor. ‘I’ll go to bed.’ She blows me a kiss and disappears.

I’m left to switch out the lights and turn on the dishwasher. It’s not a big deal. It’s just some switches and buttons. But it feels like a big deal.

For some reason, it feels like a really big deal.

30

I promise Rain that if she comes with me to church, I’ll make her a hot chocolate with cream later that day. She smiles for the first time all weekend and puts Jenny into the baby carrier. I forgot to set an alarm, so even though we jog all the way, we’re late.
Really
late. The priest is already giving his sermon.

Nana turns and sees us slide into a back pew. Her hair is sprayed into a high puff that doesn’t move when she does. I expect her to be angry because I’m so late, but she smiles gently and turns back to face the altar.

After Mass, we wait at the back of the church for Nana. Father Doherty sees me and pats my head. ‘What have I done to upset you now, wee one? I’ve had no one to bring up the offertory since you’ve been away.’ Father Doherty is Irish like Nana. But he’s from a different part – a place called Belfast – and he sounds like he still lives there. Sometimes he speaks so quickly, I can’t understand what he’s saying.

‘I moved in with my mum, father.’

‘Aye, sure I know, your granny told me about that. And how’s it going anyway?’

‘Good,’ I say.

‘That was a lovely sermon, father.’ It’s Nana. Father Doherty pulls Nana towards him and kisses her on the cheek. Father Doherty’s not like some of the other priests who stand on the altar like they’re God themselves. His sermons are always about how he did the wrong thing but then learned from it. Whenever I listen to him, I wonder what I could learn from my mistakes, but I’m not as clever as Father Doherty – I can’t turn my life into lessons.

‘Oh no, don’t tell me, there’s Mrs Baker. She’s been after me to help her organise a jumble sale. I’m going to scoot off and hide,’ Father Doherty says and away he goes.

Nana pecks my cheek with dry lips. ‘Hello,’ she says. She’s almost shy.

‘Hi, Nana.’ We hardly look at each other. It’s stupid because we’ve lived our whole lives in the same house. There’s no reason for us to feel uneasy.

Nana squats, so she’s eye to eye with Rain. ‘I’m glad you came too.’

Rain knits her eyebrows together. She holds on to my coat.

‘Come on. I’ve a lovely piece of pork and lots of potatoes roasting in the oven,’ Nana says.

Nana’s roasts are the best. The potatoes are always crunchy on the outside and soft in the middle. Her meat is never chewy. She makes her own apple sauce, which she calls Apple’s apple sauce, and she makes the gravy from meat juices, not a tin of Bisto.

Rain eats like she’s never had a meal before. She stuffs half a potato into her mouth. Before she’s finished it, she stuffs some carrots in too. She forgets Jenny who is lying alone on the couch, Derry sniffing around her.

Nana watches Rain but doesn’t criticise her manners like she would if I ate like that.

‘How are things going?’ Nana asks during dessert – homemade coffee and walnut cake with double cream.

‘Fine,’ I say. Derry comes in and rubs my leg with his nose. I break off a piece of cake, hide it and hold it out for him beneath the table. He lathers my hand in spit.

‘Fine? That it?’ Nana asks.

‘It’s great,’ I say.

‘Your mum’s well? She likes having two daughters to contend with?’

‘Mum’s a natural,’ I tell her.

‘Your dog’s licking my knees,’ Rain says. She giggles.

Nana shoos Derry away. ‘He’s getting cheeky, that one. Been a bit spoilt since you left. So tell me, how do you like Brampton-on-Sea, Rain? Is school fun?’

Rain answers without looking up. ‘I don’t go to school.’ I was so worried about Rain telling Nana about the parties and Egan Winters, I forgot to tell her to keep the school thing a secret.