Mum tells us over and over again that she only went to the Point the day Eddie drowned to end it with Mick. I make the brave move to tell her that I saw her in the Black Fin with Mick the day I went to find Eddie.
“I was so lonely,” she says. “I was scared I was losing you all. I just went for some company.”
“Did anything happen?” my dad asks.
“They kissed,” I say.
“Just once,” Mum says. “It was a goodbye kiss. He was so kind. He told me he’d been keeping an eye on you, Elsie. To make sure you stayed safe. I promise you nothing had been going on. It was just a couple of times before Eddie died, and nothing since. I swear.”
I guess she doesn’t know that Dad told me about when she nearly left us. For some reason I believe her when she says she was ending it that day. I don’t know what this means for her and Dad now. Maybe they’ll work it out.
The person who’s suffered the most is Dillon.
“I had to keep all your secrets!” he screams one day. “Mum’s affair, Dad running off, Tay being on the beach, Elsie’s diving.”
“How did you feel about this, Dillon?” the therapist asks gently.
“Angry.”
“With everyone?”
“No.” Dillon sniffs. “I wasn’t angry with Dad.”
Dad hangs his head, and Mum asks for another tissue, which she shreds onto the beige carpet.
“Why weren’t you angry with your father?”
“Because it wasn’t his fault.”
“No, Dil,” Dad interrupts. “It was my fault. I was the one who should’ve been watching you all.”
We’re all silent for a bit. The therapist looks at his feet, and occasionally at me. I think he wants me to say something.
“I think I know why you’re not angry at Dad.”
“Yes, Elsie?” the therapist prompts.
I turn to Dillon. He looks afraid.
“I think it’s because, that day, Dad was only doing what you were planning to do—running off to confront Mum.”
“No! That’s not true,” Dillon shouts. “That’s not why. I felt sorry for him. Mum was the one having the affair. She’s the one who betrayed us all.”
The therapist runs out of tissues.
Dillon tells me later, when no one is listening, that I’m right. He also says that he failed Eddie by not swimming back earlier, by not listening to my calls for help.
The sessions go on.
6
BY SOME SMALL MIRACLE, I PASS ALL MY EXAMS. A HANDFUL OF Cs and two As—biology and technology. I keep quiet about my A in biology to Dillon. It was just as much a shock as his No Award. Dillon is allowed to do his retakes at the hospital, as long as he follows his care plan. When I return to school at the end of August, it’s the same as ever, but this year we must all work harder. This year is even more important than last year. This year, we must focus; we must drive ourselves forward and emerge as young men and women, not girls and boys. I might be sick.
Frankie is pleased to see me. We sit and have lunch together, and he tells me how many crabs he caught over the summer. He doesn’t get why I find that so funny. I tell him that I spent most of mine at the hospital with Dillon, and that’s why I couldn’t see him.
“I came to your house to see you, but your dad said you weren’t up to visitors.”
“I know. Sorry. Thanks for coming.”
“Did you really try to kill yourself? That’s what everyone said, but I told them it wasn’t true.”
I hug him. He doesn’t even smell that bad.
“It wasn’t a suicide attempt,” I say. “It was just a stupid thing to do.”
That’s what I tell myself. In truth, when I was down there, I really thought I had nothing to come back for. That was the stupid part.
The rest of the kids are quiet around me. Lots of people ask after Dillon and ask if they can do anything to help. Even the teachers. Someone gives me a leaflet on coping with grief, which I throw in the bin but later retrieve. Inside the leaflet is another one—from the Dolphin and Seal Centre about adopting animals. I slip them both in my pocket—an idea forming.
Ailsa and some of her sidekicks still glare at me and makes snide comments about Dillon, but there are no compasses, and I make sure Ailsa’s not around when I change for PE. She can’t get to me anymore.
When I finally head out of the gate on Friday after my long first week back, there is a familiar face waiting for me. He’s got a nerve.
“Can we talk?” Danny says.
“No.”
“Please. Just for a minute.”
“You lied to me.”
“Elsie, you’re not the only one in the world who’s been affected by this, you know.”
And I do know this—it’s written all over his face. It wasn’t always pity I was seeing in his eyes, it was guilt, fear, and sadness. I need to grow up and open my eyes to what’s really around me.
“I know. I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I don’t know what to say.”