Letters from the Inside (7 page)

May 29

Trace, what’s going on? The Greek exchange students had another meeting yesterday, and it was at Prescott High. Remember Prescott High? That’s the school you said you go to. I had a letter for you, so I gave it to Phil — I thought a hand delivery’d be nicer, and faster.

Well, Phil checked at the office — they said they’d never heard of you. So he asked a few Year 10s — they’d never heard of you either. So he brought the letter back. Then I thought, maybe Phil’s English isn’t good enough and they didn’t understand him. So I rang the office this morning — and guess what? I got the same answer as Phil.

So what is this? I can’t believe you’ve changed schools and not told me. I found your old letter and it’s there in black and white: Prescott High. I don’t understand. Please write back.

Mandy

May 31

Dear Mandy,

Don’t worry about it — it’s simple. The truth is, I use a different name at school. Different surname, that is. See, my father’s not my father, he’s my stepfather. My real father died after I was born. I reckon he took one look at me and carked it. But I use his name for most things, like writing to you. I only use my stepfather’s name at school, and that’s because my brother and sister changed to his. It causes some complications, but not often.

Sorry I didn’t tell you before. I didn’t think it was important. And it never occurred to me that you’d send a letter to the school.

So, hope that clears it up. Do I get my letter now?

Lots of love,

Trace

June 4

Trace, I’m no Sherlock Holmes, but this is still bugging me. You said, a long time back, that your parents have been married for twenty-five years. Now you say your father died after you were born.

Something sucks. Please write back.

Mandy

June 13

Dear Tracey,

It’s been a long while since your last letter, the longest gap ever. What’s going down? I don’t understand what you’ve been doing. Please write back and level with me — I need to know.

Love,

Mandy

June 20

Trace, don’t do this to me. I can hack anything except silence. If you want to stop writing, that’s OK, I guess, although I don’t want to stop. But I’ve got to know the truth, at least. Please answer this letter.

Love,

Mandy

June 26

Dear Trace,

I’m going to write every day if I have to, until I get an answer. To tell you the truth, I’m a bit scared about this now. Cheryl said something that freaked me out. I mean, in one way, I don’t know much about you. I don’t know where you live, or what school you go to. I don’t have a photo of you. I’m not even sure if I know your name any more. Like Cheryl said, maybe you’re a psycho or something. But you know, I don’t think you are. I’ve got to trust myself, and my feelings, and I really believe that you’re an OK person. But I think you’ve been bullshitting me a lot. When I go back over your letters, there’s some funny things. For example, you seem to have lost a dog and gained a horse somewhere. I think I can almost tell which bits are real and which bits are fake. So I hope you write at least once more and tell me what the hell’s going on.

Love (I think),

   
Mandy

POSTCARD

June 29

I’m not giving up. One week of term left — I’ll haunt you these holidays. Just tell me the truth, please.

M.

July 3

Stop hassling me. Leave me alone. Can’t you take a hint? And don’t send any more postcards. People here read them.

July 6

Tracey, what do you mean ‘people here read them’? Where are you for Christ’s sake? For that matter, who are you?

School finished today, but I’ll be here all holidays. Just me and Stevie Wonder. I’ve got enough to be scared about, without you sending weird messages. That ‘people here read them’ freaked me right out.

Are you in trouble? If we’re friends, then we can tell each other anything, can’t we?

Anyway, I need to keep writing to you. Our letters have been good for me. They help keep me going.

Please write.

Love,
Mandy

July 13

Dear Trace,

It’s a week since my last letter and still no answer. At first I thought I’d start sending you postcards with strange messages, to force you to write. But I read all your letters again today, and I’ve decided that I’ve got to keep trusting you, no matter what.

I’ve got to trust someone. George Vlahovic dumped me at the beginning of the holidays, after an interesting few weeks; Cheryl’s gone to Red Point with her family for a fortnight; Rebecca keeps secrets like Henry VIII kept wives (see, I’ve learnt some History this year); Katrina’s never home, Maria’s working in her parents’ shop. . . it doesn’t leave much. I’ve tried to talk to Mum and Dad again, not just about Steve, about everything. Well it was Mum I tried to talk to mainly. And she tried, she really did, but she was tired and the things she said weren’t much help. I told her about George for example, and she was saying, ‘Well you’re too young for a serious relationship,’ and ‘I know it seems like the end of the world at your age, but you do get over it.’

Hell, maybe she’s right.

You know even writing that paragraph has made me feel better! I’d like to get this going again.

Love,

Mandy