‘I just . . . We thought it would be good, to have a little adventure.’
‘I think I need to meet this Bavar,’ Mary says in a firm voice. ‘You can go, if he comes here first. There’ve been rumours about the family in that house –’ she waves away my protest – ‘and I’m not one to go on rumours, but still. If you want to be gallivanting around the country with him, I want to look him in the eye and get the measure of him.’
Well, good luck with that, I think.
I really hadn’t planned on going with Bavar. I could do with a break from him, after everything. I feel stretched with anger, and there’s no place for it to go. His parents are gone, and so are mine, and for all his sorrow he can’t change what they did.
‘Angel?’
‘OK, I’ll call him,’ I say.
‘He can come for lunch,’ Mary says with a nod. ‘And then you can go to the library.’
I mean, I could have just said I was going for a walk. I could have just not said anything and snuck out. But she was worried when I was late home last night and came in all red-eyed and prickly, and I felt bad when I saw the circles under her eyes this morning, so here I am on the ‘family computer’ they let me use for homework, looking up his single name and address, hoping he’s got a phone number.
I’ve never seen a phone there. Do they even know what a phone is?
I unearth my mobile, close my eyes for a moment while a load of messages roll in from people I used to know, and then I dial.
‘You have a phone call.’ Aoife’s voice rings through the house, and second-cousin-four-times-removed Isaac gives me a wolf whistle as I head down the corridor.
I never get phone calls. Never. Not sure I’ve ever even heard it ring. I take the shiny white receiver from Aoife and stare at it for a moment, before holding it to my ear.
Silence.
Aoife flaps her hands at me, mouthing something. ‘Say hello!’
‘Hello?’ I say, turning my back on her.
‘It’s Angel.’
‘Oh.’
Silence.
‘So. About that book I was telling you about. I’m going to find it. And if you want to come with me, you’ll have to come here first and meet Mary.’
‘Mary?’
‘My foster mother. Remember?’
‘Oh.’ I flinch. ‘Yes.’
Sigh from the other end. ‘Otherwise –’ spiky voice – ‘I can’t go.’ Her voice drops to a whisper. ‘And if I can’t go, you aren’t going either. You don’t know what you’re looking for, or where it is. And we need that book, Bavar. I know we do.’
‘Angel . . .’
‘So –’ bright voice – ‘I’ll see you at twelve. Come for lunch, and we’ll get the train afterwards. OK?’
Lunch? And a train? My fingers go numb. I can’t do those things. How can I do that? How am I going to get on a train? Will I even fit on a train? What if I bang my head when I get on and everyone notices and then they might stare, and . . .
I lean my forehead against the cool wall.
I need to close the rift. So I need to see the book.
‘Bavar?’
‘Yeah. OK.’
I put the phone down. Aoife is bobbing around at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Was it Angel?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Why was she calling you?’
I give her a long look. She stops bobbing and glares back at me. ‘I am your aunt, Bavar. After last night I’m not sure I want you out of my sight – I am in charge of your well-being.’
‘Oh, that’s what you call it.’ I ignore the flash of outrage that crosses her face. I don’t normally speak like that. I don’t normally speak very much at all. ‘I’m going to her house. For lunch.’
‘For lunch!’ Her eyes widen. ‘You’ll need to take something. I’ll have a look; I’m sure there’s something I can throw together.’
‘No, it’s . . .’
But she’s gone.
‘I like Angel,’ says my mother from the little portrait by the hall table. ‘She’s sassy. Good for you.’
‘Oh, go away,’ I say, marching back to my room. The ancestors heckle as I go, and I turn on the stairs and raise my voice so it booms. ‘There’s an attic, you know. Plenty of room up there.’
Sudden silence. It’s very peaceful, except for the pounding of my heart.
. . .
I’m going on a train!
‘Will they even see you?’ I whisper, when I answer the door.
‘I don’t know!’
He looks very pale and a bit sick, and like he might just walk away.
‘Oh, it’ll be fine,’ I say, pulling at him.
He lowers his head to get through the doorway, and has to keep it a bit lowered even when he’s inside. The air around him is thick and warped with his worry.
‘Honestly. Just relax.’
He gives me a dark look, and hunches his shoulders.
This is going to be a complete disaster. Why did I get myself into this?
‘Well, goodness. You are tall!’ Mary says, as she comes towards us. Her eyes are wide with surprise. ‘You must be Bavar.’
‘Uh, yes. Pleased to meet you.’ Bavar reaches into his coat and pulls out a lump of something covered in foil. ‘My aunt made this. You don’t have to eat it.’
‘Not recommended then?’ Mary smiles.
Bavar shrugs. I roll my eyes.
‘It’ll be fine,’ I say, taking the package from her and heading to the kitchen, where Pete is piling a plate with sandwiches.
I wonder how quickly we can eat them.
‘OK?’ he asks as he turns to me.
I nod, and help him get stuff sorted on the table. Bavar comes in with Mary.
‘This is Bavar!’ she says, her voice bright.
‘Ah, yes, of course,’ Pete says, pulling out a chair. ‘Come, sit. Let’s eat.’
He doesn’t look directly at Bavar. He sort of smiles at the space next to him, and Mary starts dishing out food as Bavar folds himself carefully into the chair next to mine.
‘OK?’ I whisper.
I was feeling pretty angry about everything, but it’s very difficult to be cross with someone who looks as uncomfortable as he does right now. He doesn’t really fit in the chair.
‘Yep.’
Mary starts asking questions then in a company sort of voice, and I swear the room vibrates as he answers, but she just nods and smiles, and Pete has a bit of a dazed look on his face, but he looks happy enough too and so I suppose it’s going OK, really. After a while Bavar relaxes, and Pete looks a bit less dazed, and there’s even a fairly normal discussion about books for a while, and Aoife’s chocolate and cherry cake is pretty good, even if it lands on the plates with a heavy splat, but still, it’s a relief when it’s all over.
‘Now, I don’t want you out late,’ Mary says, looking me up and down in the new coat. I was distracted this morning so I’ve ended up with a mustard-yellow duvet-style thing, but it’s pretty warm. ‘Looks good,’ she smiles. She leans in, tweaks the hood. ‘Well done. I know it wasn’t easy.’
I pull back. I don’t know whether she’s talking about shopping or lunch, or what, but Bavar is looming in the corner and he looks like he’s about to start melding into the shadows, so I give her a smile and promise to be home by nine.