Sometimes I Lie(42)

‘Vulnerable, my arse. Most of these kids are little shits and it’s the parents I blame. There should be some sort of IQ test to identify people who are too stupid to have children and then those with low scores should be sterilised. Too many stupid people populating the land with their mentally retarded offspring is a big part of what’s wrong with this country.’ I see John step out of the sat truck parked just down the street, frantically waving his hands above his head like he’s trying to land a plane in a hurry.

‘I think you can definitely go now,’ I say.

‘Good, about time,’ Madeline replies. I couldn’t agree more. She swivels on her heel and marches back inside the building. I follow her, unable to take my eyes off the battery pack still attached to the back of her giant black pashmina. She jabs her finger on the button to summon the lift, then turns to me and smiles. ‘And then there are the sluts who get pregnant by mistake, often with someone they shouldn’t. That’s why God invented abortions. Sadly, too many of the dumb bitches don’t have them.’ The lift doors open. ‘Are you getting in or what?’ I shake my head. ‘Oh, I forgot, you’re scared of lifts.’ She tuts, rolls her eyes and steps inside, repeatedly stabbing the button to make sure the doors close before anyone else can get in.

By the time I’ve climbed the stone steps to the fifth floor, it feels like I’ve missed an episode of my favourite drama. Everyone is staring in the direction of Madeline’s cupboard office. Matthew is in there with her and they are both shouting, so that every word of their supposedly private conversation is public, despite the closed door.

‘What’s going on?’ I ask nobody in particular.

‘Madeline’s mic was still on. They did a guest in the studio, then went back to her. Everything she just said went out live on national television.’

I do my very best to look surprised.





Before

Friday, 30th October 1992


Dear Diary,

Mum came home from the hospital today, which seems fitting as it is Halloween tomorrow and she is a witch. Things have been better while she wasn’t around. I thought that Taylor’s mum would be really cross with me after what happened with the bracelet, but she’s been even more kind to me than normal, taking me to school and picking me up afterwards for two whole weeks because Dad was working.

I tried to give Taylor her bracelet back and said sorry for accidentally borrowing it for such a long time, but she said it was OK and told me to keep it. She even fixed it for me by hooking a small safety pin through the broken links. I think it looks cool, even better than before. I think she was just really grateful after what happened at school last week and that was her way of saying thank you.

I really don’t know what it is about Taylor that makes the other girls dislike her so much. She’s pretty and kind and clever but those aren’t reasons to be mean to her. I’m glad I found her when I did in the Girls’ toilets. There were two of them: Kelly O’Neil and Olivia Green. They were holding clumps of wet tissue in their hands and they were laughing. They stood on the toilet seats in the cubicles either side of Taylor, looking down at her over the wooden walls. I could hear her crying behind the closed door in the middle. Kelly told her to stand up and give them a twirl. The other girl whistled. ‘We’ll go away if you let us see,’ she said and they laughed again. ‘Don’t be shy, show us.’ The crossness started to churn inside my tummy and I kicked their toilet doors. Kelly glared down at me, then turned back to look at Taylor over the wall. ‘Your girlfriend is here and she’s getting jealous. Better pull your knickers up.’

The bathroom door swung open and Mrs MacDonald appeared, telling us we should all be outside. Kelly and the other girl left, both smiling at me as they walked past. I said I had to use the bathroom and would be straight out after that. When they were all gone, I knocked on the door of the cubicle in the middle, but Taylor still wouldn’t come out. So I climbed up on the toilet next door, exactly the same way as Kelly had done and looked down at her. She was sitting on the toilet seat, her pants around her ankles. She was covered in wet toilet roll – balled up like people do when they want to throw it on the ceiling. I don’t think it had landed on her by accident. I told her to unlock the door and this time she did.

I climbed down and gently pushed the door open. She just stood there. Her eyes were all wet, her cheeks were red and her pants were still around her ankles, so I bent down and pulled them up. We don’t talk about that day. I’m not sure I should have even written it down. We stick together at all times now and the other girls keep away from us, which is fine by me.

Until Mum came home, things were pretty perfect. I was so happy when I got out of the Volvo this afternoon that I danced all the way up the driveway. Taylor’s Mum has been bringing dinners for me and Dad to heat up in the oven too; things she’s cooked herself that smell and taste amazing. Dad hasn’t been drinking as much as he sometimes does and I’ve been allowed to stay at Taylor’s house for loads of sleepovers when he’s been working late or visiting the hospital. Mum didn’t want me to visit her. Nobody told me that, I just know. I didn’t want to go anyway; hospitals remind me of Nana dying. Dad said Mum had to have a small operation on her tummy, which is why she didn’t come home for such a long time. He said she’s been very poorly. He said it wasn’t my fault.