Missing Ellen (7 page)
Authors: Natasha Mac a'Bháird
It was only when we were getting ready for bed that Ellen realised. She was looking through the texts on her phone with a puzzled look on her face.
‘What the hell … oh no! This isn’t my phone!’ she exclaimed. ‘Look!’ She showed me the screen, with a list of names I didn’t recognise – mostly male.
‘Oh no, you must have left it in the pub,’ I said. ‘Did
someone
else have the same phone?’
‘I don’t know, I didn’t notice. We were in such a rush I just grabbed the phone and ran!’ Ellen was scrolling through the numbers on the phone. ‘Maybe it belongs to someone at our table.’
‘Want me to ring it?’ I suggested. I really hoped she wasn’t going to suggest sneaking out to go back to the pub. My nerves were already shattered.
‘Good idea!’
I dialled her number. Someone answered right away. In the background I could hear the sound of talking and laughing and glasses clinking – whoever it was must still be in the pub.
‘Hello? Who’s this?’ I asked, feeling a bit stupid.
‘It’s Pete. That Ellen?’
God, it would have to be Pete wouldn’t it?
‘No – hang on, I’ll get Ellen for you,’ I said hastily. I passed her the phone, hissing, ‘It’s that guy, Pete!’
Ellen’s face lit up. ‘Hello? Can you believe it, we must have got our phones mixed up! … Uh-huh. Uh-huh … yes I can meet you tomorrow. Why don’t you give me a ring in the morning?’
There was a pause, then Ellen laughed. ‘Nope, not too early. We princesses like our lie-ins.’
She hung up and handed me back the phone. ‘We’re going to meet tomorrow in town. This is excellent, I wasn’t sure when I was going to see him again.’
She got into bed and snuggled down under the duvet.
‘Night, Maggie. Thanks for coming tonight, it was fab!’
I lay down too, switching off the light and gazing at the stars on my ceiling. Was it possible that Ellen had taken the wrong phone on purpose?
Dear Ellen,
I thought you would like an update on Fuddy Duddy’s
fashion
sense. I’m sorry to say it hasn’t improved. Today she was wearing a snot-green dress with enormous cerise flowers all over it. Hideous. And it was too tight, which meant her
enormous
bust looked like it was straining to get out. I was
looking
at the buttons, just waiting for one of them to pop, when she realised I was staring at her and I had to quickly look away. I wish we could give her some fashion advice. It’s really not fair that we should have to look at THAT every time we go to geography.
Liam has started walking home with me every day now, if he doesn’t have football training after school. You’ll be glad to know that we do actually talk now. Most of the time, anyway. We talk about football, or about things that have happened at school, or what we’re going to do at the weekend. He tells me daft things his teachers have said, who got caught
smoking
behind the gym when they were supposed to be in class, and who’s going out on Saturday night. I tell him what’s been going on with the girls at school, who’s not speaking to who, and the latest silly thing Jamie has done.
We don’t ever talk about you.
Maggie.
Ellen spent the morning fretting about what to wear to meet Pete. Since she was staying in my house, her
selection
was somewhat more limited than usual. She changed her outfit five times and still wasn’t too happy. She even thought about rushing home to get something of her own, but decided against it in the end, afraid we’d be late. I tried not to be insulted on behalf of my wardrobe.
Pete was late. We sat in Java Bay, sipping an oversized pink lemonade with two straws.
‘Are you sure we’ll see him from here?’ Ellen asked for the third time.
‘Of course. You said you’d meet him outside the Music Centre. There’s only one entrance,’ I reassured her.
‘I’d hate him to think I stood him up,’ Ellen said.
I looked at my watch. It was beginning to look like it might be the other way around.
We made the pink lemonade last as long as we could. The cafe started to fill up, and I noticed the waitress giving us some pointed looks as she cleared tables nearby.
‘He’s an hour late,’ I said eventually. ‘Do you want to text him or something?’
‘No. No way. I don’t want to sound desperate,’ Ellen said. ‘Let’s go and visit Liam, see what he’s up to.’
‘Maybe we shouldn’t. He’ll be busy,’ I said.
‘Oh we won’t keep him long,’ Ellen said. ‘We can just see if there’s any gossip from the disco last night.’
‘I thought you didn’t care about that “baby disco”,’ I said.
‘I don’t.’
‘So let’s leave it then. We can have a look round the shoe shop instead.’
‘We can do that after. I think it might be a good idea if Pete saw me talking to Liam. Make him jealous!’
She was back to scheming again, and somehow Liam and I were caught in the middle. As usual, I gave in.
Liam was carrying a huge box of books into the
newsagent
’s. He smiled when he saw us coming. ‘Well, where did you two get to last night?’
‘Oh, it’s a bit of a long story,’ Ellen said. ‘There was this band we wanted to see. Did we miss anything?’
‘Not much,’ Liam said, beginning to take some books out of the box and stacking them on a shelf. ‘It was a good night, but nothing that exciting.’
‘Obviously not, since we weren’t there,’ Ellen said.
‘What are you up to today?’ I asked, then immediately felt my face starting to go red. What sort of an idiot was I? Wasn’t it obvious? ‘I mean, obviously you’re working now, but any plans for later? I mean, not that I’m suggesting we meet up or anything, I’m supposed to be helping my mum with something anyway …’ I trailed off. Ellen was giving me
that wide-eyed look which means she is afraid to imagine what I am going to say next. I was a bit afraid myself.
Liam, lovely guy that he is, just gave me a straight answer. ‘I’m working til four. Not sure after that. Should be studying but I might give myself the evening off.’
‘Well, let us know what you’re up to. We have to go,’ Ellen said. Her – sorry, Pete’s – phone had beeped and she
obviously
couldn’t wait to check it.
‘Sorry, Liam. Bye, Liam,’ I babbled, turning to follow Ellen, who hadn’t waited to say goodbye but was already on her way out of the shop.
‘That was kind of rude,’ I started.
‘At least I wasn’t chatting him up!’ Ellen said.
‘I wasn’t chatting him up!’
‘That’s what it sounded like to me. Do you fancy him or something?’
Thankfully she didn’t wait for a reply because she was reading her text at the same time. ‘Damn, it’s Pete, he says something’s come up and he can’t make it into town.’
‘Nice of him to let you know!’ I said, glad of the change of subject. ‘We’ve been waiting more than an hour!’
‘Oh I’m sure it must be something important or he would have come. Not to worry. At least I get more time to plan my outfit!’
‘What about your phone?’
‘I don’t know. I suppose we can just forward any messages
to each other.’ Ellen suddenly looked worried. ‘God, I hope Mum doesn’t send him any of her daft soppy texts!’
She put the phone back in her bag. ‘How about we call over to Carrie’s? I can’t wait to tell her all about Pete!’
Dear Ellen,
It’s school musical time again. I saw the poster up on the noticeboard. Mum wants me to audition, but what fun would it be without you?
Nothing could compare to Grease anyway. It was our favourite since we were little. We used to re-enact the scene in Frenchy’s bedroom every time we had a sleepover, and any time one of us was telling a story about a boy the other one would start humming ‘Tell me more, tell me more!’.
I don’t know why they bothered holding auditions for Sandy last year. There was never any question over who would play her. You were the best singer in our year, the star of the drama classes, and the only one who still took dancing lessons. Most of us gave these up some time around the age of eight when the thrill of prancing around in a pink tutu began to wear off a bit. But you always enjoyed it. You didn’t care whether it was cool or not, you did it because it was fun and you liked being watched.
Really you would have been better suited to the part of Rizzo, with her feisty attitude and rebellion against authority in any form. Timid, wishy-washy, goody-two-shoes Sandy had
nothing in common with you, except that you both fancied Danny. But you were born to be a star.
Liam says he’s not going to audition this year either. He says he doesn’t see the point.
Love,
Maggie.
The Monday after our night out in the pub, Miss Leigh stopped me on my way to my locker. ‘Maggie, I’m having a meeting tomorrow at lunchtime to talk about
Romeo and Juliet
. I hope you can come along. I’d like you to help me out with the costumes again.’
‘Sure, no problem,’ I said.
‘Great. 1.20, OK? I’ll see you then. Oh here’s Ellen, the very person.’ She told Ellen about the meeting and asked her to come along too. ‘I can definitely picture you as a
tempestuous
Capulet,’ she finished with a laugh.
‘Did you manage to get your phone back?’ I asked, when Miss Leigh had gone.
‘No, he was busy all day yesterday. He said he’d text me today,’ Ellen said. ‘Starting to be a bit of a nuisance actually. My dad was texting me yesterday and Pete forwarded me on the texts, then I told him what to say back, then my dad texted back to say why was I using text speak when I don’t normally?’
‘Can’t believe he noticed that!’ I said.
‘Oh he seems to be in a noticing sort of mood at the moment,’ Ellen said. ‘He must be having an attack of the guilts. Wants to take me and Robert out for dinner
tomorrow
.’
‘Will your mum let you go?’
‘I haven’t asked her. I want to sort out my phone first. Dad will be sure to notice if I have the wrong one!’
The bell rang for first class.
‘Eeek, I haven’t got anything ready!’ Ellen said, pulling books out of her bag and flinging them into her locker. ‘What have we got first class?’
‘English,’ I said. ‘Just like last Monday, and the Monday before, and the Monday before that …’
‘OK, OK, not all of us are super-organised like you!’ Ellen located her novel and folder at the back of her locker. ‘Here they are! OK let’s get going.’
She may as well have left her stuff in her locker for all the attention she paid to Cathy and Heathcliff during that class. The elusive text from Pete came just as we were sitting down.
‘Great! He wants to meet me tomorrow at lunchtime,’ she whispered to me.
‘But we’re supposed to be going to the meeting about the play,’ I whispered back.
‘Oh, who cares about that?’ Ellen said. ‘I get enough Shakespeare in class without giving up my lunchtimes too.
You don’t really want to do all that work do you?’
I said nothing. The thing was, I really did want to go to the meeting. I knew Ellen wouldn’t understand, but I really enjoyed helping with the costumes. I had helped Miss Leigh with
Grease
a few months earlier. I’d got Mum to bring me round to all the charity shops at the weekends, looking for fifties clothes. She had raided the attic for me too, and so had Aunt Pat. They’d both loved
Grease
when they were
teenagers
and had kept all of Granny’s old clothes. The two of them had been like two kids, squealing with excitement over hula hoop skirts and those blouses with the huge collars, and showing me photos of Granny and her friends and the kind of hairdos they’d had at the time.
A period drama would be even more fun. We’d have to see what we had in the acting cupboard that could be taken apart and remade into something else. We’d probably have to make a lot of things from scratch. I might even be able to do a couple of things on my sewing machine, if the school would pay for the material.
I looked over at Ellen and sighed. I could see there was no way I’d be going to the meeting. She was gazing out the window with this dreamy look on her face, still clutching the mobile with Pete’s text on the screen.
Dear Ellen,
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t know what more I can say. We’re both hurting, both missing you. That’s all it is. He doesn’t really like me. Not like that. He couldn’t.
I know what you’re thinking – what about me, what about my feelings? And yes, I have always liked him, but I never meant to act on it. He is yours – whether you want him or not.
Maggie.
I was kind of hoping Pete would text to cancel, but when I saw Ellen appear in school the next day with the pink straw bag, I knew it could only mean trouble.
‘What’s with the bag?’ I asked, as casually as I could.
‘Clothes to change into. I’m meeting Pete at lunchtime, remember?’ Ellen said. Glancing over her shoulder, she opened the bag a crack to show me what was inside. Another new top. Of course.
‘I know this is probably a stupid question, Ellen, but why do you have to get changed to meet him?’ A thought struck me. ‘He does know you’re still at school, right?’
Ellen rolled her eyes at me. ‘Of course he does. I had to tell him in the end. Although I may have said I was repeating my Leaving Cert.’
I sighed. The repeats don’t have to wear uniform. It’s their only compensation for being forced to spend another year in this place. That, and finally being treated like a grown-up
by the staff. Ellen says it would almost be worth repeating. I disagree.
‘What did you tell him that for? What if you bump into him some day on your way to school and he realises you lied?’
‘Oh Maggie, don’t start with the “what ifs” again,’ Ellen said. ‘I’ll worry about that when the time comes. The more immediate problem is, where will I get changed?’
I considered this. ‘Not here, anyway. If anyone sees you leaving in your own clothes they’re bound to ask questions.’
‘That’s true. I’m supposed to be meeting him in the
shopping
centre, we’ll just have to get there early and change in the toilets I think.’
‘We?’
‘Yes. You are coming with me, aren’t you?’ Ellen demanded. ‘You know we’re not allowed leave the school on our own. And I can’t tell anyone else about this.’
