Butterfly Summer (18 page)

Mum was in the kitchen when I got in, working on the final section of the puzzle. She looked frail, her hair matted up from too much time spent in bed. Her movements were slow, unsteady, painful to watch. She didn’t ask me about the christening. I’m not sure she even registered I was there. I sat down at the table to help her. She glanced up for a second. Her eyes were red and puffy as if she’d been crying.

“How’s your headache? Are you feeling any better?”

She nodded and then shrugged as if she wasn’t sure.

“Stella says she’ll take you to the hospital tomorrow,” I said, picking up one of the last few pieces of the puzzle. “I expect she’ll come by just before three. It was a lovely service today, you know. Mrs. Jackson was proud as anything, and I met Father Hill. He seems nice.”

Mum’s body gave a sudden jolt as if she’d received an electric shock. The piece of green puzzle she’d been holding flew across the table, landing in my lap. “Hey, what’s the matter?” I passed the piece back to her, sorry I’d said anything. Then I remembered that she’d reacted weirdly last time I mentioned Father Hill too. He obviously knew something about Mum’s past – maybe he knew about the baby in the photo – and she was scared he was going to spill the beans.

“Are you hungry?” she mumbled, changing the subject. “I could make you an omelette or something...”

“No thanks, I ate loads of cake at the christening. Let’s just finish the puzzle, shall we?”

There were only about ten pieces left. We sat in silence, turning them this way and that, trying to work out how they were supposed to fit together. I let Mum put in the final piece since she’d done most of it herself anyway. It looked amazing. The picture spread out across the table like a beautiful work of art.

“We should celebrate or something,” I said. “Have a finishing-the-puzzle party! Why don’t we order pizza?”

Mum shook her head. “I think I’ll just get an early night, if that’s okay with you, Becky. I’ve got my appointment with the doctor tomorrow and I’m so tired all the time.” She kissed the top of my head and trailed upstairs.

“Love you, Mum,” I called after her, but I don’t think she heard.

I was just about to go up myself when there was a tap on the front door. I could see through the glass that it was Mack. He’d changed into shorts and a T-shirt but he still looked drop-dead gorgeous.

“I’ve just come round to synchronize watches,” he said, grinning. “You know, for our plan tomorrow.”

“But you’re not wearing a watch,” I said, trying not to laugh.

He waved his phone at me. “I actually meant synchronize
phones
, but no one ever says that in a proper spy movie!”

“Except this isn’t a spy movie and I never get a good enough signal around here to use my phone anyway.”

“Okay, okay, forget the watches and phones,” he said, exasperated. “The real reason I came round was to ask you if you’re ready for your third swimming lesson. I was going to talk to you about it at the christening but I got distracted by Mrs. Jackson’s scones.”

I shook my head, the conversation serious suddenly. “I don’t think so, Mack. I do want to carry on learning but I just feel weird about it right now, you know, because of...”

“Because of my dad?”

I shrugged, nodding. Actually, I was dying to talk to Colin, to find out exactly what he knew about my dad, but it was just too risky while Mum was so fragile.

“But, Becky, in lesson number three you get to put your face in the water and blow bubbles. It’s even better than hopping, trust me.”

“I do trust you,” I said. “And I promise I’ll carry on, just not right now.”

Mack turned and started down the path. “I’ll keep on asking until you say yes,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll go on and on about it. I’ll drive you completely nuts until you agree to come just to shut me up.”

I smiled to myself in the dark. He was only asking me to go swimming – and I’d probably messed it up anyway by saying no – but he was still the cutest and funniest and nicest guy I’d ever met in my life. I thought about all those times I’d sat in Laura’s room, mooning over Jamie Palmer. I bet she’d never believe a boy like Mack could be interested in someone like me. It was difficult to believe it myself.

I set my alarm and left for the Butterfly Garden as early as possible the next morning. I’d promised Rosa May I’d stay all day, but I knew I’d have to get home by three if I was going to take another look at the photo. She was already there when I arrived, waiting for me by the entrance, her face closed up and angry.

“At last!” she muttered. “I can’t believe you’ve actually bothered to show up!”

“I promised, didn’t I?”

She was still cross about yesterday, really cross. We linked arms and made our way down towards the lake but she was agitated, pulling me along. “How was the christening then?” she scoffed. “I bet you were bored out of your brains!”

“It was okay,” I said tightly.

“What, so going to church to see some baby dressed in a frilly white dress was better than spending the afternoon here with me?”

She was on edge. Ready to pick a fight.

“We’ve been through this already, Rosa May. I had to go and you could’ve come with me if you’d wanted to. Can’t we change the subject?”

“Fine,” she said. “
Whatever
. Who wants to talk about a stupid christening anyway?” She ran ahead, turning cartwheels across the field – one after the other, as if she was in the circus. I lagged behind, watching her. She was so exhausting to be with when she was in a mood like this.

“You’ll never guess what,” she called back when she’d reached the lake. “I broke my record yesterday. I stayed under water for five minutes without breathing.
Five whole minutes!
Do you want to see?”

I could feel the energy drain out of me. I shook my head, sinking down into the grass, too weak suddenly to walk any further.

“Come and sit here,” I said, patting the space next to me. “Don’t go in the water. Come here and we’ll keep a look out for a Silver-studded Blue.”

She skipped back over to me and sat down, cuddling up close, her anger gone in a blink. When she stopped being cross for five minutes she was so lovely to be with, but I knew it wouldn’t last. No matter how much time we spent together, she always wanted more.

“I don’t think we’ll spot one today, to be honest,” she said. “I’ve just got a bad feeling about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, maybe we’ve been looking
too
hard. Running around, searching every area of the Garden. If we really want to spot the first Silver-studded Blue of the summer, we probably need to sit in one place,
all day
, and wait.”

“But we’ve spent days and days lying in the grass, sometimes for hours on end, and we still haven’t spotted one.”

She shook her head. “But not
all
day. Not from early in the morning until the sun goes down. That’s what we need to do if we’re serious. You’re not rushing off today, are you?”

I shrugged, too weary to explain that I couldn’t stay for the whole day. Rosa May shrank back from me. “What’s that supposed to mean? Why did you shrug like that? Are you staying or going? You promised me you’d stay all day, remember?”

“Look, I came really early because I’ve got to get home by three.” I paused for a moment, waiting for her reaction, but she didn’t say anything. Her eyes were fixed on my face like lasers.

“It’s because of the photo,” I went on, eager to fill the silence. “Remember the photo? Under my mum’s bed? Well, Father Hill said something really weird yesterday – something about how difficult it must be for my mum to be back in Oakbridge – and there’s no way I can ask her what he meant, not while she’s so ill, but Mack said I should check the photo, you know, check to see if there were any clues I missed the first time I saw it.” I was babbling now, unable to stop. “That’s why I have to get home, because Mum’s going to the hospital at three with Stella so it’ll give me a chance to look.”

Rosa May’s face had turned deathly pale.

“
Mack
,” she spat. She wrapped her arms around her body as if she was cold suddenly. “You’ve been seeing
Mack.
”

“Not
seeing
him,” I said. “Well, only once or twice but it’s not as if he’s my boyfriend or anything. He’s really nice, Rosa May, and funny. You’d like him, I know you would.”

“Why did you lie?” she said, ignoring me. “You swore to me you wouldn’t see him again. I trusted you, Becky, but you’ve betrayed me, just like everyone else.”

Her words cut through me. “No I haven’t!” I cried. “Please, Rosa May, don’t be like this. We’re best friends. Mack can’t change that. No one could ever come between us. If you liked a boy, I wouldn’t mind. I’d be happy for you.
Please
.”

She stood up, backing away from me, pressing her fingers to the sides of her head as if she was in pain. It was like looking at Mum.

“Stop it! Don’t do that!” I lunged at her, pulling her hands down. “Why are you staring at me like that?
What is it?
”

“Don’t you understand, Becky?” Her eyes narrowed. “It’s time for you to make a choice.”

“
What?
”

“You heard me. It’s time to choose. You can’t have both of us. It’s me or Mack.”

The air was thick and heavy, pressing down on me. I reached out for her but she stepped back further. It was difficult to breathe. “
Rosa May!
”

“I mean it, Becky. I’m deadly serious. If you carry on seeing Mack you can forget all about us. If you choose him over me, I don’t want to be your friend any more.” Her arms were still wrapped around her body like a shield. “I don’t want to be your friend and I don’t want to see you ever again.”

I shook my head, determined to get through to her. “Why are you being like this? We’ll always be friends, Rosa May. What about the Silver-studded Blue? What about our pact? You promised me. Don’t make me choose, please!”

She’d changed. Something about her was different. I stared into her eyes. They were cold. I could see something there but I couldn’t quite work out what it was. And then I realized. It was hate. Rosa May hated me.

I staggered back, gasping for air. I had to get away. I pushed my way through the long grass, looking over my shoulder to make sure she wasn’t following. I was scared. Scared of her eyes. Scared of what I’d seen there.

She didn’t move from where she was standing. I glanced back one last time before I left. She was a small, blue blur in the distance. Too far away to hurt me. But it wasn’t until I was at the top of Amble Cross that I dared to stop for a second and take a proper breath.

I stumbled on, frantic to put as much distance between us as I could. I got as far as the green and collapsed down on the grass. I hugged my knees to my chest, trying to understand how everything had turned so nasty. I couldn’t face going home, not while Mum was still there, but I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Mrs. Jackson was in her usual spot in the doorway of the shop.

“What’s the matter, Becky?” she called out, hurrying over as soon as she saw me. “What’s happened? You look dreadful.”

I tried to say I was fine but the words were lost as tears started to roll down my face.

“Hey, come on now, my love. What’s brought this on?”

I was crying so hard I could barely speak. Mrs. Jackson held out her hands and pulled me up into her arms.

“It’s alright,” she soothed, stroking my hair. “It might seem like the end of the world but I’m sure we can put things right.”

I leaned into her, sobbing. “It’s just I’ve had the most terrible row with my friend. It was horrible, she said all these nasty things and—”

“Now you listen to me, Becky Miller. Friends fall out all the time. You’ll be the best of pals again tomorrow, you see if you’re not.”

I wanted to believe her but I knew she was wrong. I’d seen Rosa May’s eyes.

“Let’s get out of this frightful heat for a bit, shall we? I’ve got some cake left over from yesterday and a few of those scrummy scones.” She led me across the green towards the shop. “Do you know, my friend Tilly and I used to fall out more often than we had hot dinners and we’re still the best of friends today.”

Mr. Jackson was at the till. He’d unclipped the fan and was holding it right up to his face. “There’s a storm coming,” he said as we trooped past. “You mark my words, heat like this is always followed by a storm.”

“He’s been saying that every day for the past month,” said Mrs. Jackson. “Wishful thinking, that’s what I call it!”

We squashed up in the Jacksons’ tiny kitchen. Every surface was covered with leftovers from the day before. The plants on the window sill were heaving with juicy red tomatoes, so ripe they looked as if they were about to split open at any moment.

Mrs. Jackson cut me a huge slice of Victoria sponge and we sat together looking through the photos from the christening. Mrs. Jackson’s son had dropped them off that morning. There were literally hundreds of Albert in his frilly white dress. Albert with his parents. Albert with his grandparents. Albert with his aunties and uncles and all his cousins. There were toddlers and teenagers and two elderly aunts who were easily over a hundred. I thought of me and Mum – our tiny family of two – and my tummy twisted up.