Blood Sisters(22)

‘Shhhh.’ Johnny looked around. Kitty would have looked too but her neck was feeling particularly stiff today. It did that sometimes.

‘No … one … is … listening.’ Margaret snorted with laughter. ‘They’re … all … sorting … out … Duncan before … the guests arrive … for the concert.’

Her eyes went all dreamy. ‘I … won’t … tell … Honest. I … had … a … boyfriend … once. But … he … went … off … me.’

Margaret had had a boyfriend? She was at least as old as Friday Mum. Her hair was grey too. And she was scrawny without any boobs.

‘Everyone’s arriving now,’ said Duncan, who’d returned smelling much nicer. ‘There’s my sister!’

There was an air of tense excitement. Kitty’s good hand squeezed Johnny’s tightly. A small woman with a mousy face came in. She stared at the group as if looking for someone. Then she waved at Duncan. ‘They’ve … got the same … long noses,’ giggled Margaret.

‘Have you got anyone coming?’ asked Johnny politely.

Margaret shook her head. ‘My cousin … doesn’t … bother … with … me now she’s … gone to … Australia … Goodness! … Who … is … that … woman? I … love … her … pearls.’

‘It’s my mother,’ said Johnny casually. He said it in a way that suggested he was a bit upset. He must miss home. But if it hadn’t been for his family ‘needing a break’, he wouldn’t have met Kitty. He’d told her that during the hand-holding and after lights out.

Someone else was waving now. ‘That’s … Kitty’s … mum,’ said Margaret knowledgeably. ‘She … hasn’t … been … here … for … a … bit, has she? Usually … comes … on … a … Friday. All right … for … some.’

Friday Mum’s hair was a different colour. It wasn’t grey any more. It was blonde like Johnny’s mother’s. Kitty bit the inside of her cheek as the other guests came in. Where was her special visitor? Maybe it wasn’t going to be Flabby Face at all. Maybe it was going to be someone nice! But no one else had ever come to see her apart from Friday Mum.

Straight Fringe Barbara was standing up now. She was pointing the stick in Kitty’s direction. That meant she had to start humming. A solo, Barbara called it. Everyone else had to be quiet so it could be heard properly. They were all waiting. Kitty’s mouth was dry with apprehension. She’d practised so many times that she could do this in her sleep.

But now with the audience looking expectantly at her, the hum wouldn’t leave her mouth.

‘I can’t do it,’ she whispered.

‘What’s … she … saying?’ groaned Margaret.

‘Don’t be nervous.’ Johnny took her hand. ‘I’m here. We can do anything together.’

But it still wouldn’t come out.

‘Make yourself happy or angry,’ whispered Johnny. ‘I’ve noticed that you always hum then.’

But she was too scared. It was almost like the time when …

A memory began to form. Then disappeared just as fast.

Everyone was staring. How awful!

But then Barbara’s baton beckoned the others like a giant finger. Duncan was going crazy on the triangle. Bang. Drop on floor. Bang. Margaret was bashing the glockenspiel with all her might. And Johnny now had to take his hand away from hers to play the guitar. Kitty sat there, silently, tears streaming down her face.

At the end, everyone got up in the audience and clapped hard. It was a standing ovation, said Barbara. Then they clapped so hard again that the others all had to do another piece which they’d been practising in case everyone liked the first bit. This was called an On Core.

The words sounded familiar. Had she done On Cores with the girl that Barbara reminded her of? Before she’d come here? If only she could ask someone who understood what she was saying. But all this was too complicated to explain on a stupid picture board.

‘That was lovely, darling.’ Friday Mum came up and put her arms around her afterwards.

‘No it fucking wasn’t. I didn’t hum like I was meant to.’

‘You enjoyed it too, did you? And is this a friend?’

Mum was speaking in that voice that people used when they didn’t expect a reply.

‘That … is … Johnny,’ said Margaret, butting in. ‘And I’m … Margaret.’

Friday Mum nodded. ‘Lovely to meet you. I’m sorry I haven’t been here for a bit, Kitty. But I had to go on a couple of residential training courses.’

‘I … bet,’ whispered Margaret. ‘That’s … why … we’re … here … So … they can … go … away … and … have … fun.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Friday Mum’s eyes narrowed.

‘Nothing,’ said Margaret.

‘And how long have you been here?’ Friday Mum was addressing Johnny now.

‘A few weeks.’

They didn’t like each other. Kitty could see that. Friday Mum was walking away now. She was talking, head down, to one of the members of staff. At one stage they turned to look at her and Johnny. And suddenly Kitty wished that Friday Mum had never come to the concert at all.