Playing With My Heartstrings (20 page)

I shrugged, awkwardly. "You know... love, that sort of thing."

Relief washed away all previous tension on Mum's youthful, Liz Earle-cleansed face. "Oh, I see," she commented, nodding, then a frown crossed her lips. "Is this related to Joel?"

"Yeah, sort of, but there are other things, too."

Mum turned her head towards the newest plot of the vegetable patch, which she'd earnestly stated would be for growing a second patch of tomatoes after the spectacular success she'd achieved the previous summer (whilst I put on my ancient iPod and switched on a hip hop track from the 90s', listening to Mum's mini-speech, as any darling daughter would), and said, "I'll come inside in a moment - whilst you're in the kitchen, could you get out one of the biscuit tins?"

"Which one?" I prayed that Mum would choose the mixed-selection; chocolate chip Scottish shortbread had a fairly decent flavour, but didn't enliven my taste buds in the same way as the varied selection tin did, leaving me in a craving state afterwards.

"Whichever one you prefer," Mum advised, putting her portable radio onto Radio 2, joining the ferocious rant blaring from the airwaves.

Ooh, lucky me.

*********

"Say, I genuinely can't recall the last time we had tea together," Mum noted, whilst lavishly decorating the rectangle-shaped, lightly coloured wooden table situated in the middle of the kitchen with tons of biscuits - childhood favourite Jamie dodgers, luxurious dark chocolate bourbons and Maryland-style cookies - bursting to land the starring role in the spotlight, garnering my utmost attention.

"Mmm, I know," I mumbled, poking two chocolate-coated fingers into my awaiting mouth within seconds. I loudly swallowed - relishing the sweet, welcoming flavour - and included, "Remember how we always go into those old-fashioned teashops when I was little?"

Mum laughed softly, as did I. "Oh yes, you would always pick a fruity teacake, no matter where we went!" A glimpse of longing clouded her features, as pleasant, appreciated memories returned to the surface. "Sadie, where did those days go, eh? Sometimes, I look at you and wonder whether you're still the five year old girl who follow me around, glued to my hip, always by my side! I miss this -" her hand flew into a gesture pointing towards the steaming cups of coffee and remarkable display neatly laid out with fancy biscuits "- more than you can dare to imagine."

A hard lump formed in my throat, as a measure of guilt rushed to the furore, creating an unbearable ache in my conscience. Where had my mum's little girl - who was treasured like priceless gold and usually bore a cute, red Minnie Mouse bow - gone? She had seemingly disappeared overnight, becoming a young, feisty, striving-to-be-independent woman, no longer needing her mother's assistance in riding a menacing-looking bike or choosing her clothes, whose bold tastes were a million miles away from her prim-and-proper mother's acceptable ideas.

Out of the blue, I desperately wished that I'd been blessed with the power of time travel - obviously impossible, as fans of Back to the Future were aware - and could transport myself back a decade, to a time where I was bursting with happiness, excitement the hugest emotion I'd experienced. And friendship was purely about sharing blackcurrant lollypops and babbling excitedly about the Barbie mermaid doll, and love was only received from your doting parents...

"I miss this too," I repeated, in a blurted choke.

Whether the sunshine had caught a corner of her eye and made it twinkle as brightly as stars, a glimpse of unshed tears glittered momentarily in Mum's eyes, then she noisily sniffed her nose and abruptly changed the subject, in her typical matter-of-fact manner. "What did you want to tell me?" she asked, her ears virtually flickering with interest. "Something about love..."

"Yeah, that's the situation," I responded, nodding my head slowly. "Um, do you remember when I went on a day-trip to Millingbourne with Cassie and her friends the other week?"

Mum nodded eagerly. "Oh yes, that girl who drove you there - was her name Valentina or -"

"Valerie," I corrected, flatly.

"- oh right, Valerie was such a lovely girl for her age and awfully responsible, too. Thank goodness she was keeping an eye on her sister."

"Uh-huh," I muttered, bored stiff with Mum's exaggerated compliments on new-driver Valerie, who wisely hadn't dropped a bombshell about getting her belly button pierced. Yet. "Anyway," I said, steering the subject to a different topic, "I met somebody whilst I was out-and-about in Millingbourne, who I really liked." And before I knew it, my tie was unravelling and I was pouring my heart out in front of my quizzical mother. "His name was Luke and he was utterly one of the best guys I'd ever met, sharing my sense of humour and managing to avoid changing the subject to football every five minutes -"

"Hold on a second!" Mum cut in, sharpness clear in her tone. "You're barely giving me a moment to catch what you're saying! How old is this boy?"

I rolled my eyes. "Luke is in the same school year as myself - as if I would try to chat up an older boy who is a complete stranger, Mum."

"OK." Mum digested my words, relieved that I wasn't admitting to an acquaintance with a man who was around a decade older than me. "Where did you meet him exactly?"

"A motorway-long queue in McDonald's; we bumped into each other and got talking, eventually exchanging our phone numbers."

Mum exhaled a breath, engulfed with unease and nail-biting jitters. "So, have you met up with him since?"

No smartly-worded response was necessary for this answer. "Yes," I replied, then interjected, "I've seen him plenty of times since."

A wrinkle-bearing frown bore an aging resemblance on Mum's face, losing part of her natural, radiant glow. Uh-oh.

"Why couldn't you have told me weeks ago?" Mum whispered, her freshly-wounded agony so painful that I winced uneasily. "Why now?"

A wish, hopeless and consumed in thoughtless vanity, crossed my mind - I wanted to flee from this biscuit-laden scene and crawl into the small hole in the house, cradling my body as one would with a new born baby. Clearly my lucky stars weren't going to shine right at that moment, particularly as the daytime sky was terribly bright.

"At the time, I didn't want you to fear that I was opening another can of worms and creating more problems," I protested, stiffly avoiding Mum's steely gaze. "After Joel, I felt... lost and out of place, until Luke came into my life and created wonderful feelings between us, some of which I feared I would never experience." A weak, weary half-smile curved on my lips. "I'm just running away from the inevitable, aren't I? Pain will always be hot and bitterly sweet wherever I go."

Upon hearing my worry, the blazing anger that had swept upon Mum's face instantly vanished, instead replaced with heart-breaking pity and tearfully sad sorrow for her torn daughter. "Honey, if I'd known about the slightest thing which had been running through your head, I would have..." Mum trailed off, speechless.

"I'm sorry that I never told you about it, Mum," I said, truthfully. "I owe you a massive apology for getting myself into this mess -"

"And don't apologize for wanting to get out of it," Mum finished, marking an end to my poor-little-girl sob story.

Laughter filled my lungs, though none of its feel-good humour gave me any pure happiness. "Nothing makes sense, does it?"

"What do you mean?"

"For instance, I ought to be happy that I've befriended a caring, thoughtful guy whose loving personality is utterly priceless, shouldn't I?" I questioned.

"In a perfect, ideal world, yes, I suppose that you would be happy," Mum slowly said.

"But now, Joel is texting me, declaring his undying love for me and I don't know what to do!" I groaned as noisily as grouchy-in-the-morning Tinker.

"You are right, none of this makes any sense," Mum agreed, with a sigh. "Why don't you take this from the top and explain everything, without heading into a manic rush?"

What else could I say? "OK."

That was my whole morning reluctantly grabbed from my hands, gone into the wilderness.

**********

"Right, you're certainly in a pickle, aren't you?" Mum noted, finishing off the last custard cream in visible sight.

I nodded, my mouth too dry in order to form any long speeches. God knew how much time I'd spent giving the full 411 on the 'Joel incident', the term Mum used to refer to it, then I was obliged to describe virtually each, tiny detail about my striking up a friendship with Luke and afterwards another problem was defined, though by then my mind had surpassed exhaustion.

"It's strange how problems change for new generations," Mum muttered, mostly to herself. "In the 80s, my hugest dilemma was coping with frizzy hair - years before straighteners were created!"

An outburst of interest drew me in. "I never knew you had frizzy hair," I commented, revelling at Mum's poker-straight, Galaxy-chocolate coloured bob, failing to see any signs of its long-gone frizzy state.

Mum giggled, appearing twenty years younger than her wise, trusting 48 years. "Well, I do borrow your GHDs from time to time," she admitted, with a playful wink.

Hm. That was a reasonable expression for why my straighteners sometimes seemed to be placed in a different, tidier position, instead of being cluttered on my dustier-than-a-haunted-house dressing table - it was hardly a problem, was it?

"So," I started, changing the subject to less cheerful one, "what do you think I should do? I like Luke and have feelings for him, but I'm placed in an awkward position now that Joel is in contact with me again." I paused, as thoughts began to form inside my head. "Oh, what if I'm still in love with Joel? That would be totally unfair on Luke!"

"Slow down," Mum said, her soothing, low tone calming my erratic nerves just a little. "Remember what I told you about taking a deep breath whenever you sense that you're losing control of your emotions?"

"Yes, Mum, I do." During our intense conversation, Mum remarked to me that I ought to take a calmer view in life, even when I felt like everything - from a lack of socialization with so-called friends to boys who are incapable of deciding whether they love me or not - that mattered to me was falling apart. Breathing deeply and counting to ten were supposed to be good methods of calming down, though I did mention to Mum that I was no longer a toddler enduring the deafening terrible twos ten years on, but thankfully I absorbed Mum's sensible advice like a soaked napkin and took it in, however I guessed that it would take a while before my new mantra officially sank in. An hour just didn't seem long enough, somehow.

I took a deep breath, exhaling a few moments later, and, whether I was desperate to see a drastic improvement or it was genuinely real, I felt miles better. Far calmer than gorging on sugar-laden energy bars and knocking back cups of caffeinated coffee to focus on anything other than maths during my annual school exams. A new lesson learnt, I was proud to admit.

"Now that you've calmed down, I think I can give you my advice, if you wish to take it," Mum said, taking sip of her cool black coffee. "From my point of view, Luke seems to be the sort of young chap -" I irresistibly raised my eyebrows in protest of Mum's old-fashioned use of the overly British word "- who can accept you for who you choose to be, regardless of what may have happened in the past." Wow, Mum was as intelligent as a psychic - although she had not yet been introduced to Luke, she already knew him inside out almost as much as I did, which was freakily strange, though comforting at the same time. At least she was utterly aware of his charming charisma and caring nature which drew me to him as would a hungry fly to a delectable-looking plate of food. Probably not the best description, in all honesty, yet it still displayed my inner feelings for my boyfriend!

"That's true," I agreed. "Even when I mentioned a few things which would make the average boy turn an embarrassed shade of red and flee to the arcade, Luke stayed right beside me, taking in all I had to say."

"Wish I could say the same about your father," Mum mumbled, almost intelligibly. "Football this, football that - there is barely any time to talk to him!"

So far, Luke hadn't mentioned anything about football or, to my absolute horror, supporting a team. An ounce of dependable hope could only steer me away from that dull topic for the time being.

"I think that, deep down, you know what you want to do - staying with Luke is at the top of your list of intentions, I assume?"

I nodded earnestly, shaking my head as forcefully as a dog shaking its fluffy tail. How could I deny myself a true, honest relationship with Luke? Of course he was my main priority.

"That's one hurdle overcome," Mum commented, pretending to swipe away a trickle of sweat from her glowing forehead. "Now, here is the harder problem: Joel."

A pang of fear fired a bullet which struck me without the slightest warning - hearing Joel's name set me on an uncomfortable edge.

"As I've never been caught in a love triangle before, nor have I read The Twilight Saga for guidance -" I stifled a chuckle by coughing loudly, muttering lamely that a frog had got caught inside my throat "- I'm unsure which advice I can give you without confusing you further." Mum crossed her arms loosely, seemingly miles away from the crumb-layered table and peaceful kitchen, the joyful sound of birds tweeting the sole audio within the house.

"Mum, it's fine," I declared, immediately grabbing Mum's attention. "I can simply ignore Joel's text and get on with my life - it was only one message!"

"Yet if it didn't matter so much to you, then I wouldn't have been in the know!" Mum snapped, unleashing her bottled-up fury for one fiery moment.

I sank back into my cushioned chair, thrust into yet another uneasy position. One that I'd created, with a lack of acknowledgement. Encore.

"Look, Sadie, this has been going on for too long now," Mum said, her tone losing her moment-long rush of irritation. "If I was you, I would rendez-vous with Joel, settling this matter for once and for all."

My heart plunged into my gobsmacked mouth, a thought-provoking protest on the tip of my tongue. "Mum, I can't! After the time I tried to talk with him, I stormed out of the cafe in front of everyone! How can you expect me to do the same thing for the second time in a row?"

"First of all, I highly doubt that the whole town witnessed your scene with Joel and if they did, they have probably forgotten it by now - a girl losing her temper with a boy is hardly taboo these days," Mum replied, dunking a dark chocolate-coated digestive into her coffee. "Secondly, having Luke by your side may encourage you to maintain a stable conversation with Joel without the risk of turning the situation into another petty catfight."

"I didn't unleash my claws, Mum," I groaned, staring at spiky nails which had never witnessed a manicure. Then an idea - fresh and oh-so-perfect - popped into my head. "Wait, could I take Luke with me?" I asked.

A dumbfounded look crossed Mum's face. "What do you mean?"

"You just said that 'having Luke by my side' could help me when I talk to Joel," I repeated.

"I didn't say it like that," Mum affirmed. "I meant that you have Luke on your side; I obviously used the wrong word."

"Well, I don't care - it's a brilliant idea, anyway!" I whooped, slapping my hands together in victory. "Speaking to Joel by myself usually results in my becoming a tearful mess, therefore ruining all chances of getting my point across - thanks, Mum!" I jumped out of my chair and rushed over to Mum sitting on the other side, surprised by my sudden outburst of euphoria, all due to an idea that she'd mistakenly suggested. I lightly pecked her on the cheek, catching a whiff of her signature Shalimar perfume, then ran up the stairs, my elephant-heavy footsteps provoking the house to shake fearfully.

I followed the path to my bedroom - situated beside Cassie's, whose door was still resolutely shut - and raced to the desk, where my phone, comfortably covered in a hand-knitted purple sock, was lying. My fingers shaking uncontrollably, I picked up the phone and scrolled a couple of pages, searching for Luke's number quickly. As soon as I came across it, I pressed the dial button, denying me the opportunity to think this still-muddled plan through once more. Too late. The beeping stopped almost as soon as it started and I was greeted by a sluggish, half-asleep voice.

"Hello?" Luke asked, with a sleepy yawn.

"Luke, I didn't just wake you up, did I?"

No answer. That told me all I needed to know.

"Luke, if you don't mind, I need a little word with you, preferably sooner than later," I said, in a blurred rush.

"OK." All traces of tiredness vanished, Luke's natural kindness instantly showing through.

Oh well, I prayed that I hadn't wasted Luke's chances of a traditional Saturday lie in - the one that I'd also denied myself.

Chapter 14

"Just give me another reason why it's worth carrying three of your abnormally heavy rucksacks in the middle of a terrifying forest in order to share a few
words with your ex-boyfriend," Luke demanded, wincing uneasily as he shifted his legs, sticky sweat rolling down his reddened face.

I stopped in my tracks, nearly causing a Nike backpack collision, and I leapt out of the way before one of the bags - mostly containing basic supplies - wacked my shoulder, breathing heavily.

It was a vividly sunny Saturday afternoon in the middle of August and, having successfully convinced Luke to go along with my so-called plan, we had trekked a few miles into the forest, hoping to rediscover the setting where Joel and I had first camped together. So far, my barely thought-through proposal had become some sort of a disaster; minutes after Mum genially dropped us off near the entrance to the popular hiking spot (and spent a good thirty minutes grilling Luke about his interests and intentions in relation to myself, which caused a great deal of blushing from both sides), I'd strained my left ankle by attempting to carry one of the backpacks, which I'd generously stocked with two litre bottles of mineral water.

"Why water?" Luke wondered, as he placed the other bags onto the leaf-
strewn ground and took a look at my ankle, which ached miserably.

I rolled my eyes sarcastically, my short temper already flaring dangerously. "You honestly think that bottles of Dr Pepper are going to help you survive in a forest?" I asked, steam literally puffing from my ears.

"No," Luke abruptly answered, instantly sensing my change in temper. Nothing more was mentioned regarding the heavy bottles of water - which we hadn't yet even bothered to drink.

Still, we carried on, albeit a little slower than our usual, faster paces, and by late afternoon, we'd reached a spot - near a yellow daisy-covered meadow and beneath a tree which was home to a family of squirrels - that was safe enough to stop and allowed us to get back some of our lost breath.

"Have you ever camped before?" I asked Luke, jugging a humongous gulp of water down my dry-as-a-desert throat as I sat down on a loose log.

Luke shrugged, his gaze connected to the cloudless blue sky. "Nah, maybe once or twice on a Scouts trip, but nothing special."

My eyes widened. "So, you were a member of the Scouts?"

Luke nodded.

"Wow," I sighed wistfully, "I wish that I was brave enough to even attempt some of those tasks that they do."

"Well, you couldn't join because you're a girl!" Luke chortled, his snickering laughter echoing around the surrounding 100 feet-tall trees.

Annoyance flashed through my darkened eyes for a quarter of a moment. "Obviously, I was referring to the Brownies - I always admired them, but never joined." I frowned sadly. "My mum was terrified that I was going to fall off a tree or break a leg, something like that."

"Well, you did twist your ankle earlier, didn't you?" I reluctantly gave a please-forget-about-it nod. "So, your mum only stopped you because she didn't want you to get hurt. It's love at the end of the day, isn't it?" Luke smiled, marvelled at his spectacular use of the English language.

A huge, childlike beam shone a glowing radiance on my face, as I hugely appreciated Luke's positive out view on life once again. Honestly, where was he hiding his invisible halo? "Yeah, that's true," I agreed, "though I do suspect that it was for my own good in other ways."

"What do you mean?"

I hesitated, my hands instinctively searching for a clasp of loose hair, which I'd earlier placed into a super-smart ponytail. Damn, there were no distractions to avoiding recounting my tragically embarrassing childhood tales. "As a kid, I was accident-prone," I said, maintaining a level gaze on a green weed shooting up through the ground.

Luke grinned. "Like, what did you do? Fall over or something?"

My cheeks already betraying me, a neon shade of red - clearly not a sign of enduring a tiring walk during a burst of hot weather - coloured my features, burning-hot embarrassment straight on my heels. "Yeah, along those lines," I admitted, failing to keep my voice ultra-cool and relaxed. Then I dropped the laugh-out-loud bombshell - who was I kidding? Luke would either tickle the truth out of me or snicker so loudly that my blood would boil as ferociously as a pan filled with dry pasta. "In case you were wondering, I once fell into my friend's pond at her house, fully-clothed. Totally the most embarrassing moment of my life."

Luke's eyes nearly popped out of his spellbound head. "That's what you define as embarrassing?" he questioned, quizzically, somehow doubting my painfully honest revelation. "Sadie, Sadie," he tutted disapprovingly, "you clearly don't know what you're talking about."

An explosion of curiosity grabbing some reserved attention, I queried, with a hint of playfulness, "Oh really, what makes you think that you're the qualified expert all of a sudden? OK, I may not have gained a degree at Cambridge for dealing with embarrassing stories, but I do believe that I know what I'm talking about - all without the distraction of football blaring from the widescreen TV."

"What does football have to do with this?" Luke asked, bewildered.

"Um, I've just noticed that boys don't pay so much attention when their favourite team is playing against their rivals."

A whoop escaped Luke's mouth. "Nonsense! We listen to all of your boring, send-me-to-sleep stories all the time - what is the difference?"

He just didn't get it, did he? "Women are more focused than their male counterparts because they maintain a level head on the subjects that they are passionately and strongly talking about," I stated, accentuated with a smug, told-you-so smirk.

"All because you asked me about camping," Luke muttered, holding his oval-shaped head in his hand, restlessness overcoming his worn out boy.

Replenishing myself with yet another sip of hydrating water, I stiffly got up from the crinkly, dark brown log - forcefully ignoring the pain which shot through my sore ankle with all of my restricted might - and grabbed Luke's black Puma rucksack, in which he had placed a small, khaki-shaded tent.

"Gonna help me set this up?" I demanded, poorly waving the bag in front of Luke, the contents jiggling up and down heavily.

"I thought we were going to walk further."

I waved the idea away. "No way! My ankle aches, sweat is pouring off you - we can reach the site tomorrow instead. "Besides," I added, my body relaxing as I put the bag back near the log, "I quite like it here."

"Even with all of those squirrels?" Luke wrinkled in nose in peculiar amazement. "I thought you loathed the sight of them."

A terrorizing chill slithered up my stiff-as-cardboard spine, as hazy memories of screaming my head off at the mouth-dropping appearance of fast, noisy squirrels flashed flickered in my mind. "No problem," I said, smiling breezily, before changing the subject to less furry one. "You didn't forget to bring the sausages for the campfire, did you?"