Butterfly Summer Page 9

  “Don’t start nagging, Becky. I’m not feeling too good. I’ll get onto it tomorrow, I promise.”

  Another promise she wouldn’t keep. Mum had changed so much since we got to Oakbridge. She’d always been secretive about the past, but now it was as if she was disappearing inside herself. She was hiding something from me, something bad, something to do with Oakbridge and my dad and the photo under the bed, and I badly needed to know what it was.

  I stopped at the doorway watching her for a moment. She was concentrating on the puzzle, fiddling around with one of the pieces, but her face was as sad as I’d ever seen it. “Mum, I was just wondering, are you sure we never came to Oakbridge, you know, after you moved away?”

  She looked up, frowning. “What do you mean?”

  “It just seems weird, in a way, that you left and never came back. And I keep getting this feeling...”

  “What sort of feeling?”

  “I don’t know, just a funny feeling. Like certain places in Oakbridge feel so familiar sometimes.”

  She looked back down at the puzzle. “I never came back here after I left. Not once.” Her voice was shaking slightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must be imagining things. Where have you been exactly? Where did you get this feeling?”

  I shook my head, sighing. “Look, it doesn’t matter. Forget it. I’m going up to my room.”

  I tossed and turned for most of the night – it was so unbearably hot. I kept thinking about Mack and the pool and the way I felt when I first walked into the building. How could some place I’d never been to feel so familiar? I could never explain to Mum. It was just a sense, a distant recollection, but the noise and the smell – they’d felt as real as if I’d been going there all my life.

  It was almost morning by the time I finally dropped off to sleep. I dreamed about my dad. We were swimming underwater and it was completely silent. I was dying to see his face but it was fuzzy and out of focus. I tried to get closer, but no matter how fast I swam he was always that little bit faster. Keep still, can’t you? I kept thinking. But when I finally caught up and grabbed him by the shoulders to take a proper look, it wasn’t my dad at all. It was Rosa May.

  I woke with a start. I didn’t know where I was. That strange feeling when you’re still half in your dream. I forced myself out of bed and pulled on a pair of shorts. I was exhausted, but I had to get to the Butterfly Garden as early as possible if I was ever going to spot the Silver-studded Blue. And if Rosa May was going to forgive me for not turning up yesterday.

  I popped my head round Mum’s door just before I left. The room was dark and stuffy. “I’m off now,” I said. “Shall I open the curtains for you?” She didn’t answer, and as I got a bit closer to give her a kiss, I realized the bed was empty. I turned on the light, confused. It was the first day she’d been up before me since she’d left her job.

  Downstairs, the kitchen was still a mess, but it didn’t look as if she’d had any breakfast and the kettle was stone cold. She must’ve crept out at some point, either earlier on, or maybe even late last night. I thought about calling Stella, telling her I was worried, but I didn’t want to make a big fuss over nothing. It wasn’t as if Mum was a child. In the end I left her a note asking her to ring me as soon as she came in. She probably wouldn’t be able to get a signal anyway, but I wasn’t sure what else to do.

  I raced all the way to the Butterfly Garden, but there was no sign of Rosa May either. She wasn’t on the bridge or lying in our usual shady spot under the trees. The Garden felt empty without her. What if she was still angry? What if she’d been serious when she said she wasn’t going to bother showing up? If only I could take back what I’d said when we rowed. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. I really needed to see her.

  I picked out a tiny pink butterfly while I was waiting and began to follow it around. It was one of our favourite games, but it felt lonely playing it by myself. The butterfly settled on a flower for a few moments and then took off across the field. I rushed after it, pretending it was magic and that it would lead me straight to Rosa May. The Garden is full of magic butterflies, she was always saying, you just have to know how to spot them.

  I followed the butterfly down to the lake. It hovered around the edge for a bit, flitting from flower to flower, before flying straight across the middle. I dashed onto the bridge as fast as I could, and over to the other side, but there was no sign of it. I ran one way and then another and was on the verge of giving up when it appeared suddenly from behind a tree.

  “You’re back,” I cried, wishing it was Rosa May, desperate to see her, but just then an identical pink butterfly flew out from behind the same tree and it was impossible to tell them apart.

  I collapsed down in the grass and watched the butterfly twins chase each other around. I wondered what Mack was doing right that minute. My face grew warm thinking about the way he’d held me in the water; how embarrassing it felt to be that close to him, even if it was only a swimming lesson. The two pink butterflies flew over my head. I swivelled round, trying to keep my eye fixed on one without getting it confused with the other, when I noticed a woman on the other side of the lake. There were quite a few people around that morning and she had her back to me, but there was something about her that caught my attention.

  She was dressed all wrong for a start. She had a heavy coat wrapped around her, as if it was the middle of winter, and she was wearing short, furry boots. I recognized the coat and the boots straight away. I’d seen them a hundred times. I shrank back into the grass, holding my breath as she turned round and stared straight out across the lake. It was Mum.

  I crouched down, making myself as small as possible. I had no idea what she was doing there, but I didn’t want her to see me. It was impossible to make out her face from so far away, but for some reason I was sure she was crying. She was bent over slightly, and every now and then she swept her hand across her eyes.

  I crept backwards, inching my way through the grass, watching her the whole time. What if she was sleepwalking? What if she wandered straight into the lake? I had to stop myself from calling out. What was she doing here? It was awful the way she was hunched over like that in her big winter coat. I wanted to go to her, to help her, but I didn’t want her to know I’d been coming to the Garden. My body felt heavy, weighed down. I didn’t know what to do.

  I was still creeping back, just watching her, when someone grabbed me from behind. I whipped round, scared out of my wits, but it was only Rosa May.

  “Don’t do that,” I hissed. “You nearly gave me heart failure!”

  “I nearly gave you heart failure? What on earth are you doing?”

  I pulled her down next to me, my heart beating so fast I could barely speak.

  “What’s the matter, Becky? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “It’s my mum. Over there on the other side of the lake. But I don’t want her to see me.”

  Rosa May looked out across the water. She didn’t say anything for ages, she just stared.

  “I know she looks strange,” I said, a bit embarrassed. “I don’t know why she’s wearing that coat when it’s so hot.”

  “What’s she doing here?”

  “I’m not sure. She left the house before I got up. She’s been acting really weird lately, especially since she left her job.”

  Rosa May dragged her eyes away from Mum. “Have you told her about coming here? Does she know we meet every day?”

  I shook my head, still trying to catch my breath.

  She grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight. “Is that why you didn’t come yesterday?” she said urgently. “Because of your mum?”

  I didn’t know what to say. If I told her I’d been swimming with Mack, she wouldn’t understand. She’d asked me to go swimming with her so many times – she’d literally begged me – but some of the things she did when she was messing about in the lake scared me half to death. The last thing I wanted to do was lie to her, but I couldn’t face te
lling her the truth either.

  “She’s leaving, look.” Rosa May nudged me, pointing at Mum. “Come on, let’s go down to the bell heather and see if we can spot the Silver-studded Blue.”

  She pulled me up and we ran across the meadow, our hands laced together. I looked back a few times, but Mum had disappeared.

  The rest of the morning dragged by. Rosa May was hyped up and restless. She wanted to play a new game, but I wasn’t in the mood. It involved trapping a butterfly with our bare hands and then awarding each other points based on how rare it was.

  “I’m not playing that,” I said. “It’s cruel. Why would you want to catch a butterfly anyway? Let’s take some photos instead. We could try to get some really good close-up shots...”

  Rosa May rolled her eyes, groaning. “Not photos again! That’s all you ever want to do. It’s sooo boring.”

  “Well, what’s so exciting about catching a poor, defenceless butterfly? What are you going to do with it once you’ve caught it?”

  “Let it go of course,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Challenging me to argue. “Why are you being such a killjoy? You might as well go home.”

  I went along with it in the end. I didn’t want to, but I was tired and she dragged me into the game while I was still saying no. I hated the idea of trapping something so fragile, but Rosa May set about catching a butterfly as if her life depended on it. It seemed to take for ever but eventually she crept up behind a big yellow and black Swallowtail, closing her hands around it as it settled on a flower for some nectar.

  The butterfly went crazy, beating its wings in terror, frantically trying to break free. The noise was awful.

  “Stop it!” I cried. “Let it go!” I grabbed hold of her hands, forcing them open.

  “What are you doing?” yelled Rosa May. “You’ve spoiled the game. It’s not like I was going to hurt it.”

  “I don’t care. It’s horrible. I’m not playing any more.”

  Rosa May laughed, her eyes wild. “Suit yourself,” she said, and skipped off, hands cupped together, ready to try again.

  I lay in the grass, watching her. I’d never seen her so manic. It reminded me of this boy, Martin, at primary school, who used to have these sudden blowout rages. It’s as if you’ve got the very devil in you, Martin, our teacher would say, and she’d wrap her arms around him and hold him tight until he calmed down.

  She raced round and round the field, stalking every butterfly in sight, until she exhausted herself.

  “You were right, this game’s rubbish,” she said in the end, flopping down next to me. She was lying so close I could hear her heart beating hard, like the wings of the trapped butterfly.

  “I really think my mum’s losing it, you know,” I said after a bit. “She was so keen to come back and live in Oakbridge. She kept going on about making a fresh start and how great it would be to live in the country – but I swear she’s cracking up.”

  “Are you going to ask her what she was doing here today?”

  “No, of course not.” I sat up, clasping my arms round my knees. “If she finds out I was here, she’ll never let me come back.”

  Rosa May snorted. “Why not? She lets you go off by yourself every day anyway, so what’s the difference? She doesn’t seem that bothered about you at all.”

  I opened my mouth and shut it again. I didn’t want to tell her. Not about the lake. If she found out Mum was terrified of the water and that neither of us could swim, she might insist on teaching me herself. Swimming was as natural to Rosa May as breathing, but the thought of going anywhere near the lake with her filled me with dread. Swimming with Mack in a pool was hard enough, but swimming with Rosa May in the lake was beyond scary.

  “You still haven’t told me where you were yesterday,” she said suddenly, as if she could see right inside my head. “I asked you before but you didn’t answer.”

  It was so hot. I began to feel strange. Rosa May was staring at me, waiting for me to say something.

  “I’ve got to...to...get back,” I stammered. “I’ve got to make sure my mum’s okay.” I felt dizzy suddenly. I put my head between my knees. “She’s wandering around in her winter coat. I’m worried about her.” I started to get up, but Rosa May grabbed me and pulled me back down.

  “Just tell me, Becky. Where were you?” She squeezed my wrist.

  “Don’t do that, it hurts.” I tried to yank my hand away but her grip was too strong. Our eyes locked for a second, both of us breathing hard, and then she let go, her face crumbling.

  “I’m sorry,” she cried. “It’s just I was waiting and waiting and you didn’t come. I got here really early and I waited all day.”

  “It’s okay. It’s all my fault. I should’ve let you know. Don’t get upset, Rosa May, please.”

  I was still finding it difficult to catch my breath. The air around us was thick and sticky like syrup. I helped her up and we stood there hugging for a second.

  “I was lonely without you here,” she whispered. “Don’t ever let anyone come between us, Becky.”

  I shook my head, holding her tight. “I won’t, I promise.”

  “On your life?”

  I nodded. “On my life.”

  She walked me to the exit. It was still quite early, but I had to make sure Mum was okay. “I wish I could stay,” I said, hugging her again.

  She pulled back suddenly, her eyes searching my face. “Do you ever think about the end of the summer? About what’s going to happen when school starts? And the weather changes? And the Garden closes for winter?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to think about it, it’s too awful.”

  “But do you think we’ll still be friends?”

  “Of course we will!” I cried. “We’ll always be friends. We’ll meet up every weekend and after school, and when my mum’s feeling better you can come and sleep over at mine.”

  “It won’t be the same though, will it? It won’t be the same as meeting up here every day.” She paused for a moment. “Not unless I could find a way...”

  “What are you talking about? Find a way to do what?”

  She stared off over my shoulder, her eyes focused on something far away in the distance.

  “A way to make the summer last for ever.”

  She vanished back into the Garden before I could ask her what she meant. She was obviously hatching some plan, but it was never going to happen. Mum had enrolled me at the high school in Farnsbury before we’d even moved. It was supposed to be really good, miles better than my old school, but I was still dreading it. I’d found it hard enough when I started Year Seven and everyone was new – this time I’d be the only new girl.

  Mum was already home when I got in. She was sitting at the table in her nightie, doing the puzzle. I was so relieved to see her, I rushed over and hugged her tight. She was still wearing her furry boots, but when I asked her why, she looked down, surprised, as if she hadn’t even noticed she had them on.

  I made her a cup of tea and we chatted for a bit, just about the weather and the washing-up. She was trying to fit a tiny piece of red into the field of poppies, but her hand was trembling slightly and she couldn’t quite work out where it should go.

  “I don’t know why Stella bought me such a difficult puzzle,” she said, tapping the tiny piece on the table over and over, until I reached across and took it away from her.

  “I’ll just make a start on the dishes,” I said, “and then why don’t we sit down together with the paper and have a look through the jobs section?”

  Mum shrugged. “I’ve already looked, Becky. There’s nothing in there. Nothing.” She glanced up at me for a second, but her eyes were flat, as if someone had switched the lights off.

  I got up anyway and put on Mum’s apron. It was red and white with a frill round the edge and way too big. It was difficult to know where to start. The kitchen hadn’t been cleaned properly for days and it was a state. I moved a pile of plates to one side to make some space by t
he sink and noticed a big white envelope tucked behind the toaster.

  “What’s this?” I asked, holding it up to show her.

  Mum turned round. “No idea,” she said vaguely. “It must’ve arrived earlier while I was out.” She turned back, blushing suddenly, as if she’d just realized she was still in her nightie and that I wasn’t supposed to know she’d been out in the first place.

  Inside the envelope there was an invitation to little Albert’s christening. It was printed on thick, cream card with two tiny blue feet in the middle and a silky blue ribbon at the top. I read it out to Mum.

  “Julie and Robin would love you to attend the christening of their son, Albert Jonathan Jackson.” Robin was Mr. and Mrs. Jackson’s son. He lived about half an hour away but they’d decided to have the christening at Oakbridge church.

  “I’m not going,” said Mum, when I’d finished reading out all the details. She was animated suddenly, her eyes flashing.

  “But we’ve got to. Mr. and Mrs. Jackson will be really upset. It’s their first grandchild, and they’re so excited.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t even know Julie and Robin, I’ve only met them once. Why can’t people just leave me alone?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She was getting worked up, clenching and unclenching her fists. “That’s why I left in the first place. Everyone staring. Everyone knowing. How was I supposed to carry on?”

  “Everyone knowing what? You’re not making any sense. Please, Mum, everyone knowing what?”

  She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry, Becky, really I’m so sorry. I only meant everyone knowing my business, that’s all – but I’m not going to the christening, I really don’t want to, and that’s that.”

  I knew she wouldn’t change her mind either. She was as stubborn as Rosa May when she wanted to be. I turned back to the sink to start the washing-up. It was getting harder and harder to imagine how Mum was going to sort herself out. She’d been low before – there were times in our old house when she’d moped about in her dressing gown for a few days, or put herself to bed for the weekend with a migraine – but I’d never seen her as bad as this.