Good Me Bad Me(77)

I try to sketch but I can’t concentrate. I can’t help thinking about Phoebe. It’s not in her nature to let things go, it’s not in her nature to try and understand. I wish I could go to her room, read her emails, but it’s too risky with Mike around. She was happy at breakfast yesterday, smiling. It’s not because I’m back, of course it’s not, it’s because she’s thought of a plan.

I’m frightened. I miss the nurse ticking the form on the clipboard, Josie pirouetting around my room. I don’t want to be on my own. Ground. Shaky. I want to tell Mike I’m worried Phoebe’s found out but I’m not sure how to. I don’t want him to know I’ve broken house rules, been into her room.

I don’t know what I’m going to say to him but I go to his study anyway, he told me to come to him any time I needed to. I’m about to knock on the door, my hand mid-air, halfway to the wood, but I hear him talking to someone on the phone. I drop my arm down, turn my head so my ear’s against the door, listen to the small talk. Plans for Christmas and New Year, then I hear him talking about me.

‘I think you’re right, June, it’s time for Phoebe to come first, no question about that. I’m sorry we’ve changed our minds, but now that Milly’s back I realize it’s too much having both of them here and, to be honest, supporting her through the trial and with what happened recently, it’s taken its toll on me. On all of us. I could use a bit of normality again.’

He pauses, as June responds.

‘Yes, agreed, it feels too early to tell her, too soon after the overdose, but I’m sure she’ll be fine when I do. I’ll be gentle.’

I back away from the door. I don’t feel like telling him I’m scared any more. He told me to stop bottling things up, but how can I talk to someone who I know doesn’t want me here.

When Morgan arrives on my balcony the sight of her moves me. Is home a place or is it a person? We sit on the bed, she asks me how I’m feeling but not to see the scar. I ask her how she is too, she was injured the last time I saw her, the swelling around her mouth gone, the scrape on her forehead healed.

‘You know how your favourite book’s Peter Pan, Mil?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Well, it’s also my sister’s favourite movie. We watched the DVD last week and you know how Peter gets something for Wendy to say thanks? Well, I got you something.’

She takes it out of her pocket, hands it to me. It’s a small gold locket similar to the ones I’ve seen at the antique stalls in the market. I open it, no pictures inside.

‘I thought maybe one day you could put my picture in one side and yours in the other.’

Both of us smile and I realize how much she means to me and that I don’t have to hurt her to keep her safe. She’s doing okay as she is. She lies down on the bed, I ask if I can sketch her. I want to start a new series of portraits, one where I don’t have to smudge the faces.





36


I found my first couple of days back at school difficult, the noise in the canteen louder, the collisions in the corridors harder. The perpetual fear of Phoebe spreading the word. I’ve tried my best to stay out of her way, hoping as if by magic she’ll forget who I am. Who she thinks I am. The waiting is worse – not knowing why she hasn’t told anybody yet.

When school ends today I go down to the locker room to collect my stuff and she’s there with Marie, who asks her to go to Starbucks. Phoebe says no, there’s some stuff she needs to do at home.

‘I’ll walk out with you though if you give me a minute, I just need to read this email.’

She smiles as she looks at the screen of her phone.

‘Who’s it from?’ Marie asks.

‘Nobody,’ she replies, glancing over at me. ‘It’s just about something I’ve got planned for tomorrow.’

Couldn’t put Humpty together again.

On the way up to the Great Hall I send Mike a message, remind him I’ll be set-building for the play until seven. He replies saying not to worry, both he and Saskia will be at his office celebrating the refurb completion, they’ll be back a similar time to me. Keeping busy is the trick, I focus on painting and building, and halfway through the evening I offer to go to the shop just by school, buy snacks for everybody, a much-needed sugar hit. I realize when we finish just after seven, with a good bit of the set built, I enjoyed it, a welcome distraction.

I walk out with MK, tell her I’ve started a new series of portraits. She’s pleased, time to move on, she says. Yes, I agree. It is.

‘Will you be all right getting home?’ she asks.

‘Fine thanks, I live super close.’

‘Okey-doke. See you tomorrow, Milly.’

‘Bye.’

I’m halfway home when my phone rings. Mike’s name flashing on the screen and when I answer he says, ‘Where the hell are you?’

‘I’m just walking home, I’ve been –’

‘You are not to come home, do you hear me?’

His voice is forced, strained. So different from normal.

‘Go next door to Valerie’s and stay there until I say so.’

‘Mike, you’re scaring me, what’s happened?’

‘Do as I say. Do not come home, do you hear me?’