| |
The third time Clara flew over to the Gypsy camp late at night, Luke was nowhere to be seen, but the door to Grams’ caravan was open and Grams was moving around inside. Clara landed on the step of the caravan and hooted to get Grams’ attention.
“Clara, is that you?” called Grams, shuffling over to the door.
Clara hooted, hopped into the caravan and flew up to the nearest counter.
“Luke’s fine, don’t worry,” said Grams, as if she were reading Clara’s thoughts. “But he was very tired. He’s been working with his dad all day and waiting up at night to see you, so he hasn’t been getting much sleep lately. I gave him a special tea this evening which sent him straight off to sleep. He’ll be right as rain tomorrow.”
Clara hooted dolefully.
Grams forehead puckered in sympathy. “Don’t worry about it, dear,” she said. “Give them some time to get over the shock and your parents will come around, I’m sure.”
Clara hooted hopefully.
“No, I don’t think so,” said Grams, correctly interpreting Clara’s direction of thought. “If I interfere, it could just make matters worse.”
Clara hooted dolefully once more.
Grams patted her gently. “We miss you round here,” she said sadly. There was a noise outside the caravan. “You’d best go, Clara, I’m expecting a visitor.” And Grams shooed Clara towards the door.
Clara took off up into the sky. As she turned in the direction of home she peeked back and saw a shadowy figure enter Grams’ caravan. Must be another of their secret meetings – probably about Luke, she thought. Clara was tempted to go back and find out what was going on, but Grams had sent her away, which meant she didn’t want her there. Reluctantly Clara flew home.
***
Even after Clara’s week of being grounded had ended, things did not get back to normal between Clara and her parents. She was still angry with them, and avoided their company as much as possible, but she was also scheming about when she could spend time with Luke.
The most obvious time was when her parents were out at work, but this was also when Luke worked with his dad.
They managed to arrange to spend an hour together at lunchtime each day, but apart from that their time together was limited to Clara sneaking out after her family were asleep at night. She suggested to Luke she could sneak out earlier in the evening, after dinner, by pretending she was in her room, but Luke was worried that her parents or brother would check on her and find she was gone. He didn’t want to risk her being grounded again.
Rather than visit Luke at night in owl form, Clara had taken to flying to the woods and transforming back into human form before jogging to the campsite. Luke was under strict instructions not to leave the site at night, but at least in human form the pair could talk to each other. Grams would often bring them a mug of hot chocolate, as she was often up late herself. That is, until she and Luke had an argument.
He had plucked up the courage to talk to Grams again about telling Clara his secret. He’d gone to her caravan after Clara had left for the night. When he entered Grams was reading a large, old-looking book, her brow furrowed in concentration.
“Don’t you think you should be getting to bed, Luke? Its’s really late,” Grams said without looking up.
“I’m going now,” Luke responded hesitantly. “But I just wanted to speak to you again about Clara.”
Grams tensed and glared up at him. Luke felt his heart rate increase and sweat broke out along his neck. He balled his fists tightly.
“Clara can keep a secret, and she has powers herself. I don’t understand why I can’t tell her what I can do!”
“I’m not going to talk about this with you again, Luke. I said no, and I meant it,” said Grams quietly before dropping her eyes back to the book.
“But I can’t bear it,” wailed Luke. “I’m going to explode if I can’t talk to somebody about what I can do! Let’s face it, she’s the only one who will truly understand how I feel.”
Grams flinched but said nothing. The silence lengthened. Luke made one last attempt to get Grams’ agreement. “It’s my secret – I’ll tell whoever I want about it.”
Grams turned the page of her book, deliberately ignoring him. For an instant Luke wanted to snatch the book up and throw it through the window, but he managed to keep a grip on his temper. As the silence lengthened the anger drained slowly out of him. His shoulders slumped as he recognised a lost cause, and he turned and left Grams to her reading. When he opened the door to his caravan, Luke glanced back at Grams. He saw her rub her face wearily. He stepped up into his caravan, being very careful not to slam the door and disturb his dad. He went to his room and dropped down on top of the bed.
It’s not fair. I have no freedom. I can’t go anywhere on my own any more. I used to spend whole days alone exploring, and I miss it. Dad and Grams were delighted when I made friends with Clara. But now I can’t even decide what I can and can’t tell her. No wonder the other kids in the camp make fun of me. At fifteen I should be considered an adult – I should get a job and start thinking about getting my own place, but they’re treating me like a child. Go here, do this, don’t do that. Luke punched his pillow in frustration, then sighed. They were doing it to protect him, after all. But if I have to put up with this much longer, I’ll explode!
The problem was his Uncle Simon. Luke was sure if that issue was resolved things would go back to the way they used to be. He would get his freedom back and Grams might relax enough to agree to his telling Clara that he could shape-shift too. Luke fell asleep wracking his brains about what he could do to prove he was an adult who could take care of himself, and get some of his independence back.
***
When Clara noticed that Grams had stopped bringing them hot chocolate, she asked Luke if something was wrong.
“Er...” Luke started. “We had a fight. Me and Grams. We haven’t spoken since.”
Clara peered at Luke in concern. “What were you fighting about?” she asked, and when he didn’t reply she added, “If you don’t mind me asking?”
Luke was looking at his hands and picking off the dirt that remained from his day’s work, but Clara could tell his mind was elsewhere.
Eventually, he shrugged but didn’t say anything. Clara didn’t push him on the issue, but she was a little hurt he hadn’t told her why he’d argued with Grams. After all, he knew all Clara’s deepest, darkest secrets.
They were quiet for a while, Clara brooding over Luke’s unwillingness to discuss the argument. The lengthening silence became distinctly uncomfortable.
“Well, I should probably get going,” said Clara abruptly and scrambled to her feet. Luke pushed himself up too. It had become their custom that he would walk her to the edge of the campsite and watch while she jogged away into the night. He was not happy that he couldn’t follow her home to make sure she was safe, but she assured him she’d been out and about at night in these woods for two years by herself and she’d be fine. “Besides,” she’d argued, “if I get into trouble I’ll just ask Bob for help, or to come and get you.”
Reluctantly, Luke nodded in agreement.
***
Clara didn’t realise it to begin with, but the fact that Luke was keeping secrets from her and that he was distant, lost in thought most of the time they were together, ate away at her, creating a subconscious resentment that built whenever they met, making her snippy and irritable.
One lunchtime, Clara sat waiting for Luke on the hilltop for over an hour, but he didn’t show up. When she caught up with him at the camp that night and questioned him about it, he just said he’d been busy. His flippant dismissal made Clara angry, and her bubbling resentment finally broke through to the surface.
“How would you like it if you were waiting for me and I didn’t show up?” she asked crossly.
Luke shrugged. It was a trait she normally found endearing, but this time it just made her feel even angrier. “Well, if that’s how you feel about it, why bother arranging to meet up at all?” she said, and stomped away into the night, huffing and puffing like a steam engine.
Luke watched her go. He wanted to call her back, but couldn’t handle any more of her ire. When she disappeared into the dark, his head dropped. He kicked at a lump of mud which thudded against a caravan. Damn! he thought. What am I going to do now? He trudged back to his own caravan, stomped up the steps and into his room. His dad sleep-grumbled through the thin wall as Luke collapsed, fully clothed, onto his bunk and planted his feet on the wall at the end of the bed. Not only can I not come up with a way to prove to Dad and Grams that I’m an adult, but now Clara is angry with me too. Luke sighed and stared at the ceiling unhappily until he drifted off to sleep just before dawn.
***
Clara tossed and turned in bed, getting tangled up in the covers, which she eventually threw off in disgust. She couldn’t believe Luke’s behaviour. Didn’t he care about her at all? Well, two can play at that game, she thought. The problem was, she did care about Luke, very much. Clara tutted and threw herself from one side of the bed to the other in frustration. If only he would tell her what was bothering him – confide in her the way she had confided in him. I’ll just make him talk, she thought. Things will be better once everything is out in the open.
But as the night wore on, Clara began to wonder if the real problem was that Luke’s feelings for her had changed. He is older than me, she thought. Maybe he’s just tired of my company. Maybe he doesn’t want to be friends any more but is too much of a coward to come out and say it.
Clara felt a sharp pain in her heart. She started to think about all the reasons why Luke might not like her any more – her age, her gender, her background, her education... By morning she was so convinced he no longer wanted to be friends she just wanted to stay as far away from Luke as possible. Overnight she’d built a wall around her bruised heart, steeling herself against the pain of the loss of his friendship and the memories of all the good times they’d shared.
At least my parents will be happy, she thought irritably. The realisation gave her no pleasure at all.