Ask Eva Page 6

  ‘Say goodbye,’ she said. ‘Lucky has to go now. Her owner will be waiting for her.’

  Nancy looked like she was going to cry.

  ‘We’ll bring her back next week,’ I said. ‘We promise.’

  ‘Cross your heart and hope to die?’ said Nancy.

  ‘Er, we just promise,’ said Ella.

  I had finished tidying up, and Ella took Lucky from Gigi.

  Gigi gave the dog a last kiss, and stood up as straight as she could. ‘Well, I don’t know about the rest of you,’ she said. ‘But it’s past my bedtime.’

  Nancy and Fred took the not very subtle hint. They hauled themselves to their feet and after Fred released the brakes on his walking aid, they began to shuffle towards the door.

  I wondered if we could just go away and leave them to look after themselves.

  What if Nancy needed help to get undressed?

  What if Fred needed to use the toilet and couldn’t manage on his own?

  Were we going to have to do gross stuff?

  ‘Er … do either of you need any help?’ asked Ella, obviously thinking the same.

  ‘With anything?’ I added.

  ‘We are not babies,’ said Nancy. ‘We can manage perfectly well. But thank you for your kind offer.’

  Gigi smiled at us. ‘Despite the way Nurse Witch treats us, we can all look after ourselves just fine. One day that might change, but for now, we simply want to do what we can.’

  We watched as Nancy and Fred slowly made their way to their rooms, and then Ella tucked Gigi into bed, pulling the covers up over her skinny body.

  ‘Sleep tight,’ she said. ‘Don’t let the bed-bugs bite.’

  ‘You remember!’ said Gigi.

  ‘Of course I remember,’ said Ella. ‘You always used to say that to me when I was a little girl.’

  She kissed Gigi on the forehead, and then we switched out the light and tip-toed from the room.

  After that, everything went like a dream. We had no trouble sneaking past Nurse Witch. When we got to Maggie’s place, I was glad to see that there were no lights on downstairs. We went around to the side of the house, and

  pushed the cat-flap open for Lucky. ‘You should be proud of yourself,’ I whispered. ‘You were a big success and you made all those people very happy.’

  Lucky wriggled around and licked my face, almost like she understood, and then she went inside.

  When we got back to Ella’s place, it looked like Alyson hadn’t moved from the couch. We quickly replaced the kettle and cups, and went upstairs to lie on Ella’s bed.

  ‘That was a totally cool evening,’ I said. ‘Who knew that hanging around a nursing home could be such fun?’

  ‘Yeah, it was great, wasn’t it?’

  ‘So you’re on for next Friday?’

  ‘Definitely. I think it’s going to be the highlight of my week.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘What’s wrong with you today, Eva?’ asked Mum on Monday morning. ‘You’re very quiet and you’ve barely touched your breakfast.’

  ‘I know it’s kind of stupid,’ I said. ‘But I’m really nervous about meeting Aretta.’

  ‘That’s not stupid,’ said Mum. ‘It’s always difficult when a friend gets angry with you.’

  ‘It’s not so much the fact that she’s angry,’ I said. ‘It’s the fact that she’s right. We never should have followed her. It was a rotten thing to do.’

  ‘But you and Ella thought you were doing the right thing.’

  ‘Ella didn’t even want to do it,’ I said. ‘It was all my idea.’

  Mum smiled. ‘Poor Ella. I know how persuasive you can be. Anyway, it’s done now. All you can do is apologise again, give her that lovely bracelet, and hope that Aretta has calmed down over the weekend.’

  ‘I guess,’ I said. ‘And just in case she hasn’t, I’ve asked Ella to call for me here this morning. If Aretta’s mad, I don’t think I could face her on my own.’

  Mum hugged me. ‘You’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘Now eat up, or you’ll be late.’

  Ella and I got to school early, and hung around the playground. Everyone was pushing and shouting, but Ella and I didn’t talk. I knew she was nervous too. Before too long, we saw Aretta arriving. I was kind of glad – when you’re dreading something, sometimes it’s easier to grit your teeth and get it over with.

  It was easy to see Aretta making her way across the playground. She was taller than most of the girls and even some of the boys. She was walking in a straight line, but when she suddenly swerved to the left, I knew she’d seen Ella and me.

  ‘Come on,’ I said to Ella. ‘Let’s get this over with. We’ll say what we have to say, and give her the present. If she’s still mad at us after that, well there’s nothing else we can do.’

  ‘OK,’ said Ella. ‘Let’s do it. I’m right behind you.’

  We pushed quickly through the crowd. Aretta started to walk faster, and I guessed she knew we were following her. I called her name once, but she didn’t look back. She was inside by the time I was close enough to grab her arm.

  ‘Wait up, Aretta,’ I said. ‘We just want to talk to you.’

  Aretta stopped walking and turned towards us. She still looked angry. Beside me, I sensed Ella taking a step backwards.

  ‘Please let me go,’ said Aretta. ‘I haven’t got anything to say to you.’

  ‘Won’t you listen to us for one minute?’ I said.

  ‘Give us a chance,’ added Ella.

  For a second Aretta didn’t reply. Then her face relaxed a tiny, tiny bit.

  ‘This isn’t a good time. I’ve got a class to go to.’

  I realised she was right. This wasn’t the kind of conversation you could rush through in two minutes, with kids shouting and pushing past you.

  ‘We could meet after school,’ I suggested. ‘There’s a park near here. It’s on your way home.’

  Ella nudged me, and I realised I shouldn’t be reminding Aretta that we knew how she went home.

  ‘The park is just down the road,’ Ella said. ‘You can’t miss it.’

  ‘I can’t hang around after school,’ said Aretta. ‘I’ve got ……stuff to do.’

  ‘Fifteen minutes,’ I said. ‘Can you give us fifteen minutes?’

  ‘Ten minutes,’ said Aretta, as she turned to walk away. ‘I’ll see you there straight after school.’

  ‘At least she didn’t say no,’ said Ella, as we walked to our French class.

  ‘I guess,’ I said. ‘Now we’ve just got a few hours to plan the perfect speech.’

  The day dragged slowly on. I passed Aretta in the corridor a few times. She didn’t smile, but she didn’t look away either – I figured that was progress. In any classes we shared, she arrived late, and sat as far away from me as possible, without actually sitting in the corridor.

  Two minutes after school ended, Ella and I were sitting on a bench near the entrance to the park. It was a lovely day. Small kids were running around chasing pigeons. I felt a bit jealous of them. They could rely on their mums and dads to fix stuff for them. Ella and were older, and sometimes we had to fix our stuff on our own.

  ‘Hey,’ said Aretta, making me jump.

  It was like she’d sneaked up on us. Maybe she was teaching us a lesson.

  I slid across the bench to make room, but Aretta didn’t sit down. She stood in front of us and folded her arms. I realised she hadn’t been kidding when she said she was only going to listen to us for ten minutes.

  ‘We’re really, really sorry for following you the other day,’ said Ella.

  ‘We can’t even make any excuses,’ I said. ‘We meant well, but it was a dumb thing to do.’

  Aretta didn’t argue.

  ‘We got you something,’ said Ella. ‘Just to show you how sorry we are.’

  I held the paper bag towards Aretta. She kept her hands in her pockets and looked at it like she wasn’t sure if it we were playing some kind of mean trick on her.

  No one said any
thing for a while. Our time was running out, and I didn’t want to spend our last minutes sitting there like statues. I took the bracelet out of the bag, and held it on the palm of my hand. For a second, I remembered the way I used to hold treats towards a timid pony, back in the days when I used to go horse-riding. The bracelet shimmered in the sunshine, and looked like an enchanted treasure from a kid’s fairy-tale. Luckily the magic worked on Aretta.

  ‘That’s gorgeous,’ she said, as she reached out and picked it up.

  ‘Our friend’s mum made it,’ said Ella. ‘She sells them in the market.’

  Aretta put the bracelet on. It looked amazing against her dark skin.

  ‘I love it,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘So we’re forgiven?’ I asked.

  Aretta smiled for the first time since she’d arrived. ‘I guess,’ she said.

  After that it was easier. Aretta sat down beside us, and Ella told her about Ruby and her swimming scholarship, and how I had helped her, when she panicked on the day of the trials.

  Then I told Aretta about the first time I met Ruby’s mum, when she was pretending to be a fortune-teller. Aretta laughed a lot, but then she jumped up suddenly, almost like an invisible timer had beeped in her brain.

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said.

  Ella and I stood up too. ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘I nearly forgot. My mum and dad said you can come over to our place after school someday. Ella can come too, and we can hang out and do stuff.’

  ‘I can’t,’ said Aretta.

  I remembered the security guard outside her home. ‘It’s OK, I said. ‘I understand if you can’t invite me back to your place. That doesn’t matter. You can still come to my place any time you want.’

  ‘Or to mine,’ said Ella. ‘My parents love when I have friends over. They won’t mind that we never go to yours.’

  ‘It’s not that,’ said Aretta.

  ‘Then what …?’

  I stopped myself. I didn’t want Aretta to think I was all nosy and interfering again.

  Too late.

  ‘I’m busy after school every day,’ said Aretta, with a strange, cold look on her face. ‘And I don’t have to explain why. Some things are private.’

  ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘I understand.’

  I didn’t really understand, but there was nothing I could do about it.

  ‘If you ever want to talk,’ said Ella. ‘Eva and I are good listeners.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Aretta. ‘But I’m fine. Now I really have to go. Thanks for the bracelet. See you at school tomorrow.’

  ‘I think that went OK,’ said Ella when Aretta had gone.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘It was OK. But I’d still love to know what that girl does after school. If she was really going to ballet or piano lessons, she would have said. She didn’t mention activities though. She just acted all weird when I asked why she couldn’t hang out with us – so there has to be something else. There has to be a reason she does her vanishing act every day at four o’clock.’

  ‘Eva!’ said Ella. ‘Didn’t you hear the girl? She doesn’t want us to poke our noses into her life. She doesn’t need our help.’

  ‘Everyone needs help sometimes.’

  ‘When she wants our help, I’m sure she’ll ask for it, and until then, we’ll have to back off.’

  ‘But what if––?

  ‘I’m not kidding, Eva. I know you’re only trying to help Aretta, but there’s nothing we can do. If we interfere in her life any more, Aretta’s so not going to be happy.’

  ‘But––’

  ‘Forget it, Eva. If we make Aretta mad again, all the bracelets in the world won’t be able to fix it.’

  I didn’t like what she was saying, but I knew she was right.

  ‘I guess,’ I said. ‘Now do you want to come to my place and help me with my maths homework? I have no idea how to do it.’

  And so Ella, Aretta and I fell into a weird kind of friendship. We sat together whenever we were in the same class. We hung out at break and lunch times. Ella and I told Aretta stuff that had happened in our school before she came. Aretta told us all the things she could remember about life in Nigeria, when she was a little girl. She never talked about her life now, and Ella and I knew not to ask.

  And every day, at four o’clock, Aretta disappeared out of our lives, with no explanation at all.

  It was like being friends with Cinderella.

  Chapter Fifteen

  On Friday, Ella and I didn’t even discuss a trip to the nursing home – we both just knew it was going to happen.

  ‘And look what I brought,’ I said when I arrived at her place, and unpacked the flask I’d sneaked from my kitchen. ‘Now we won’t have to take the kettle. I know Alyson isn’t the most observant person in the world, but sooner or later even she’s going to notice that the kettle is vanishing for a few hours every Friday night. Mum and Dad never use this flask though, so there’s no chance they’ll miss it.’

  ‘Genius!’ said Ella. ‘Why didn’t we think of that before?’

  When we got to Gigi’s room, I could hear noises from inside. I pushed the door open and gasped. It was only a small room, but it was pretty much full. Gigi was there of course, and Fred and Nancy, and there were also two more old women propped up on the bed with their arms folded, and in the corner was a man in a wheelchair.

  Gigi shrugged her thin shoulders. ‘What could I do?’ she asked. ‘Word gets around.’

  Ella and I looked at each other. How had one sneaky visit to her granny turned into a weekly party for half the residents of the nursing home?

  ‘Can I cuddle Lucky?’ asked Nancy. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this all week.’

  ‘Oh, Nancy, please could I hold her first?’ asked one of the new ladies, reaching out with thin, old arms. ‘I had to give my kitty away when I moved here three years ago, and I haven’t touched an animal since.’

  I think that might be the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. I quickly unwrapped Lucky from my fleece and handed her to Ella.

  ‘You pass the baby around,’ I said. ‘And I’ll get on with the tea.’

  Luckily the flask I’d brought was huge, and I’d filled it right to the top.

  ‘We didn’t bring enough cups,’ I said in a fake cross voice. ‘Who knew that everyone who lives on this floor would be here, Gigi?’

  Gigi laughed. ‘Oh, not everyone’s here. I invited them all, but Mary had to go to hospital, and Hannah’s gone to stay with her daughter tonight. Michael, who is at the end of the corridor, is a bit of a fuddy-duddy. He wouldn’t leave his room even if we told him The Beatles were playing a concert on my bed. Anyway, we’ll manage if you get the water glasses from my bathroom.’

  The man in the wheelchair gave a big wheezy laugh. ‘No need for that, girleen,’ he said. ‘I smuggled some cups from the dining room at supper-time.’

  He pulled back the rug that was covering his knees to reveal four white mugs and a huge plate full of sandwiches.

  ‘You naughty boy, Paddy!’ said Nancy, and he laughed again, like it was the best thing anyone had said to him for weeks.

  We all had tea and sandwiches, and the old people passed Lucky around. Lucky was very good, and seemed to be enjoying all the attention.

  ‘This is really quite cool,’ I was saying to Ella. ‘I’m glad so many people—’

  Just then an old lady stood up and headed for the door.

  ‘You’re not being fair,’ she said in a sulky voice. ‘Hannah has had three turns at holding Lucky, and I’ve only had one. I’m leaving.’

  I half-stood up, wondering if I should try to stop her, but Gigi shook her head at me. ‘Peggy’s just a drama queen,’ she whispered. ‘Let her alone, and she’ll be fine in the morning.’

  While this was happening, no one noticed Fred shuffling over to the table in the corner and picking up the flask.

  ‘Maybe there’s one last drop left….’ he said.

  Even though it was empty, the flask was too heavy for
his twisted, old hands. It slipped from his fingers and landed on Lucky’s tail. The poor dog yelped, and ran for the door, which Peggy had left open.

  ‘OMG,’ said Ella. ‘Catch her, or we’re all dead.’

  ‘OK,’ I said, running for the door. ‘You stay here and keep everyone calm.’

  As I turned the corner, I saw the tip of Lucky’s tail disappearing down the stairs.

  ‘Oh no!’ I whispered. ‘You silly dog. Don’t go down there. That’s where Nurse Witch is going to be.’

  I raced down the stairs as quickly and quietly as I could manage. When I got to the ground floor, I peeped around the corner. All seemed quiet at the reception desk, and I could see Nurse Witch’s shadow reflected on the floor, like an evil black puddle.

  ‘Where are you, Lucky?’ I whispered. ‘Come back or you’re going to get us all into a whole lot of trouble.’

  And then I heard a quivery voice from a half-open door at the end of the corridor – a quivery voice saying two words that made my blood turn to ice.

  ‘Nice doggie.’

  The shadow didn’t move, and I guessed that Nurse Witch was too far away to have heard. I legged it down the corridor, and slipped into the room, pulling the door closed behind me.

  A small night-light gave the room a creepy red glow. In the corner, a woman was sitting up in bed, hugging Lucky, who was licking her face.

  ‘Nice doggie,’ said the woman again. ‘Nice doggie.’

  I didn’t want to frighten her, so I walked very slowly over to the bed, and sat on the chair beside her.

  ‘I’m Eva,’ I said.

  The old woman held Lucky with one hand, and reached the other hand towards me. I shook it, but it was like shaking a warm dry bundle of twigs, and I was half-afraid I’d hurt her.

  ‘I’m Eleanor,’ she said. ‘And I’m very pleased to meet you. I don’t get many visitors – and a visitor with a dog, why that’s a very special treat indeed.’