There was a note on the kitchen bench when I hauled myself out of bed next morning.
I’ll do dinner. CU at 6.30. xx
I’d left her next door at nine-thirty the previous night, laughing and dazzling the neighbours. She had been drinking water, so I wasn’t worried about her tripping over her stilettos on the way home. And let’s face it, it wasn’t that far anyway. I could hear them laughing and talking as I got ready for bed. I’d drifted off trying to remember the last time my mother had been out at night without me.
Halfway through my cereal, a thought hit me like a slap in the head.
My swimming times.
I hadn’t told Mum that she needed to come to the pool to time my races.
I’d been so swept up in the crazy night at Caleb’s that I hadn’t talked to her about anything normal at all. The evening was like a dream, peopled with characters who had nothing in common with my everyday existence. Now, back in the stark light of day, all the humdrum bits of my life were coming back to haunt me.
I called Mum’s mobile and blurted out what I needed to tell her. What I should have told her last night.
The pause on the other end of the line warned me this wasn’t going to work out well for me.
‘Honey-bun, I have an Open for Inspection from four to six. There’s no way I can make it to the pool this afternoon. I’m sorry.’
‘You have to be there, Mum.’ Desperation was making me whine. ‘Mr Paulson and the old lady who runs the pool said that youhave to sign off on my times and she won’t even give me the time sheet unless you’re there. They go towards Districts, Mum. Don’t make me miss it again this year.’
The hum of traffic in the background told me she was still on the line. I pictured her frowning while she manoeuvred her little Getz through peak-hour traffic, trying to make the mismatched jigsaw pieces of our lives fit the functional-family picture that was on the cover of everyone else’s box.
‘OK, OK, I’m on it, honey-bun. Don’t fret. I’ll see you tonight. Love you.’
A groan burbled up from somewhere deep inside me and echoed down the disconnected line.
If she’d just said I’ll see you this afternoon, I could have gone to school happy. But, I’m on it? That was going to eat at me all day, gnawing a great pit in my stomach, while I wondered what the hell was going on in my own life.
I considered my options. I could make another visit to the principal’s office. Mr Paulson wasn’t such a bad bloke; he’d probably hear me out. Maybe together we could work round my mother’s absence at all the critical points in my life.
It wasn’t such a bad idea. But I just couldn’t see myself bagging my own mother to the princi pal. I also didn’t want to cut across any deal she might be working out that I didn’t know about yet.
If there was one thing I knew about my mother, it was that she was capable of surprising everyone with her complicated responses to routine requests. Any other mother would simply have taken her child to the pool, slipped Ma Mallory’s last time sheet into a clipboard and jotted down his times.
I shuddered to think what loopy scheme she’d concoct to cover her inability to do what other mothers managed with boring regularity.
My spoon scraped the bottom of my empty cereal bowl. I’d finished the lot, but it hadn’t made any difference. The pit in my stomach yawned deeper and wider than ever.
‘Surprise, surprise. Look who’s last to arrive. Again.’
It was Angelica. Ambushing me at the front gate, her posse lined up behind her. It was a trap, it had to be, but short of turning on my heel and heading back home, there was little I could do but walk straight into it.
‘Hi.’ My unreliable voice came out basso profundo, which is as low as a human voice can get.
A giggle, quickly smothered, burst out from the other side of the gate. I couldn’t blame whoever it was; even I hadn’t expected to rumble first thing in the morning.
I cursed Mum, once again, under my breath. If she stuck around in the mornings, I would be able to practise speaking before I had to go to school. Then my voice wouldn’t be rusty after lying around doing nothing all night. A little conversation might oil my creaky vocal cords and get them working in a relatively normal fashion by the time I got to school.
I pushed open the gate and kept on walking. I’d said hi,satisfying the minimum requirements for politeness that my mother had drilled into me all of my life. But I couldn’t risk letting them drag another syllable out of me, in case I inadvertently rumbled or squeaked.
Angelica skipped round in front of me, walking backwards, her face intent.
‘I saw you last night. With your own personal vampire and the Skeletor guy. And that woman–’ her exaggerated shudder was all for show ‘–she looked like Morticia off The Addams Family. What were you all doing there with that little blonde girl? Live sacrifices? Devil worship? Is that what you do at night, Henry Hoey Hobson?’
She had planted herself in the centre of the path, hands on hips, eyes blazing. She’d worked herself up into a state. For a moment she reminded me of Mum, fearless in the face of a challenge.
My mother’s usual advice in times of trouble popped into my head: Never back down, never give in and remember: the best defence is always a good offence.
I stopped and met her gaze without flinching.
‘Are you stalking me, Angelica?’ For once my voice stayed low. ‘Because that would be a clear breach of Mr Paulson’s anti-bullying policy, wouldn’t it?’
She opened her mouth and shut it with a snap. I thanked my lucky stars I’d remembered something from the Perpetual Sucker induction kit we had brought home from our first meeting with Mr Paulson.
I stepped round her just as the clanging of the morning bell jolted the playground into action. I dived into the sea of green-checked uniforms surging towards the classrooms, leaving Angelica and her pack in my wake.
I’d timed my escape perfectly.
Hero was already at the port racks with BB and Joey Castellaro when I made my way up the stairs.
He caught sight of me and turned, the beginnings of a smile working its way round those teeth. Joey saw the look and grabbed the back of Hero’s shirt, bunching it into his fist and frog-marching him into the classroom.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Angelica and her posse clustered at the top of the stairs, straight-legged like cats who’d found a strange dog blocking their path.
I hung up my bag and took a deep breath, steeling myself to enter the classroom. In the distance I could see that someone had changed the school sign.
Not big enough for me, apparently.
I pushed open the door, ready to tough out another day.
‘Henry, you’re getting to be a regular up here. A veritable bright spot in my morning.’ Mr Paulson’s jovial tone was the first friendly sound of my day.
Even Ms Sanders had ignored me. The word had gone round that the regular Six/Seven teacher had had a ‘setback’ after breaking her ankle skiing in Japan in January.
Apparently Ms Sanders was getting the nod as her replacement till the end of term, so she was concentrating on just two things: getting up to speed and surviving till Easter.
‘Ms Sanders said you wanted to see me.’
His green eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘Don’t worry, this won’t take long. Your mum phoned and explained that she won’t be able to make it to the pool this afternoon.’
I didn’t say anything. I needed to hear what Mum had planned before blundering in with any plans of my own. I had to be careful what I said round Mr Paulson; those green eyes didn’t miss much.
‘She has organised a replacement and I’ve told Mrs Mallory at the pool to expect you both this afternoon.’
‘Did she say who?’ I asked.
He flicked through the papers on his desk. ‘It was one of the people she nominated as your emergency contacts ... ah, here it is ... Caleb Moore, that’s the one. She said he would take you to swimming this afternoon and sign off on your times.’ He looked up. ‘Is that all right with you, Henry? You look a bit pale.’
I swallowed and managed an unconvincing nod.
My own personal vampire was going to sign off on my swimming times in broad daylight at the local pool.
Thank the high heavens, as Vee would say, that Angelica wasn’t going to be there to witness it.