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Authors: Judi Curtin

BOOK: Leave it to Eva
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‘What?’

‘Nosy Nicola will be back on my case.’

‘And?’

‘And she’ll act all sweet and nice, like she really cares about me.’

‘Maybe she does really care about you.’

Kate ignored me. ‘And before I know it, Nicola will have found me a lovely, kind foster
family who will take care of me.’

‘Would that be so bad?’

‘How would you like it? How would you like if you were told you had to leave your home and go and live with strangers? How would you like to sleep in someone else’s bed, and sit at someone else’s dinner table? How would you like to be the foster kid that everyone stares at and feels sorry for?’

But I have my own family to take care of me.

I didn’t say the words, but Kate seemed to know what I was thinking.

‘It’s never going to happen to you, so you couldn’t possibly understand. Forget it, Eva, this is my problem, and I’ll deal with it the way I think is best.’

I tried again. ‘It would only be temporary – until Martha gets better.’

‘That’s what they’d say, but they might not mean it. Remember what I told you before? When Dad left, Nicola tried to convince Martha
to send me to a foster family. She thought it would be a more “normal” environment for a young girl. And it took weeks of arguing and tons of coconut scones before she changed her mind.’

‘But if it’s just for a few weeks ……’ I began.

Kate interrupted, ‘Martha’s afraid that once I get sent to a foster home, I could be left there forever. I might never be allowed to live with her again.’

‘That
soooo
wouldn’t happen,’ I said, trying to sound confident, even though I had no idea if I was telling the truth or not.

And then, because I was desperate, I told a lie, ‘There was a girl in my class once who was in foster care.’

‘And?’ Kate was trying to sound casual, but beside me her body had suddenly gone stiff and still, and I knew she was listening closely.

‘Her name was … Phoebe … and she always seemed very happy. She said her social worker
tried really hard to find her a lovely family, and if she didn’t like where she was sent, she’d have been allowed to change. It would probably be the same for you.’

‘Yeah,’ said Kate coldly, ‘It probably would. Only trouble is, it sounds like a totally fun game of pass the parcel, with me as the parcel.’

‘It wouldn’t be like that,’ I said, ‘and anyway, it sounds like Nicola knows you really well. I bet she’d find you the perfect family the first time.’

‘I can save her the trouble,’ said Kate. ‘I’ve already found the perfect family – it’s me and Martha. I’ve just got to hold out until she’s better, and then everything will be fine.’

‘But …’

I was running out of words and I was sorry I’d brought the whole subject up. I’d ruined our night, and it was all for nothing. No words I could say were ever going to make Kate change her mind.

‘You don’t have to be part of this, you know,
Eva,’ said Kate in a low, fierce voice. ‘You don’t have to spend time with me if you don’t want to. Just pretend that I really am in Cork with my loving Aunt Isabel. Then you can hang out with Lily and talk about clothes and music, like I never existed. Trust me, I’ll be perfectly fine without you.’

Now I felt angry. ‘Hang on a minute – you’re the one who dragged me into this whole mess,’ I said, as I sat up and stared at her. ‘I’m involved now, whether I like it or not.’

‘Well then, maybe it’s time to un-involve yourself. You can walk away any time you like. I don’t care.’

I felt like hitting her. ‘That’s not fair, Kate. I’m your friend, so I can’t just walk away. I can’t suddenly stop knowing what I know. I care about you, and nothing’s ever going to change that.’

Kate took a deep breath, like she was getting ready to argue, then she let the breath out slowly,
without saying anything.

She shuffled over to me and put her arms around me.

‘Thanks, Eva,’ she said.

‘You know you’re crazy, don’t you?’

I could feel her shrugging. ‘That’s why you like me,’ she said, and I was impressed with how brave she was being, before I felt the trickle of her tears on my shoulder.

I could feel tears coming to my eyes too. We hugged for a long time, and then we went home.

N
ext morning, I was really tired, but I didn’t want any awkward questions from Mum and Dad, so I dragged myself out of bed, and tried not to look like someone who had been out wandering the countryside for hours in the middle of the night.

Finally breakfast was over, and I was free to escape.

‘Are you going to meet Lily?’ asked Mum as I headed for the door.

‘Yeah, I am actually,’ I said.

I
was
meeting Lily later, so it wasn’t exactly a lie, but I knew I was deliberately misleading
Mum, and I felt kind of bad.

‘Any sign of Kate coming to Seacove for a visit?’ she asked. ‘It would be lovely if you could see her before you leave for London. She’s such a sweet girl, and it would be nice for you to meet up with her again.’

‘Mmmm,’ I said, vaguely.

‘You two were great pals last year,’ said Dad. ‘You must miss her.’

Well, I would miss her – if I didn’t see her for a few hours every single morning.

‘I hate to think of Kate so far away from home,’ said Mum. ‘I walked past the other day, and that cottage seems so empty and
sad-looking
.’

I knew Mum and Dad were trying to be nice, but I felt like screaming at them to stop.

Then, as if things weren’t bad enough already, Joey joined in too. ‘Did the vanishing tracksuit ever show up again?’ he asked.

‘What’s that?’ asked Mum.

‘Oh, nothing,’ I said. ‘That’s just Joey trying to be funny – and it’s not working.’

I glared at him, trying to give him a warning not to say any more.

Joey looked a bit hurt, but luckily he picked up my silent message.

I looked at my watch, like I had an important date. ‘I’d better go,’ I said. ‘Can’t keep my friend waiting.’

Then I ran out the door before anyone could argue.

I walked slowly to the back door of Kate’s place, looking over my shoulder to make sure that no one had taken the notion to follow me.

As I raised my hand to tap on the door, I felt like I was saying goodbye to the outside world of sunshine and fresh air and happy people.

I felt like a suffocating cloud was getting ready to wrap itself around me.

How could I bear the stifling air inside Kate’s house?

How could I live through another morning of sitting in a darkened room, jumping every time I heard the sound of people or cars going past?

How could I bear another morning of Kate desperately pretending that everything was fine, and that she wasn’t bored and lonely and scared?

Suddenly I wanted to turn around and run the other way. I wanted to spend the morning on the beach, with the wind in my hair, and the sun on my face.

But how could I do that?

How could I leave Kate all on her own?

So I took a deep breath, and tapped on the door.

‘Hey, Eva,’ said Kate, as she let me in. ‘What’s new?’

‘Since I saw you a couple of hours ago? Nothing.’

I realised my answer sounded a bit harsh, so
I racked my brains to think of something else to say.

‘Er … later on, Dad’s going to organise a mini soccer league for Joey and his friends,’ I said in the end.

‘That’s brilliant,’ said Kate so enthusiastically that I knew she had to be faking. Her life was a total mess, so how could she possibly care about Joey and his friends and a stupid soccer league?

We sat at our usual places at the kitchen table. The morning was stretching ahead of me, like a long, boring car journey to somewhere I didn’t want to go anyway.

‘I have an idea,’ I said in the end. ‘Why don’t I help you to tidy your room?’

I don’t usually volunteer to spend a whole morning tidying up, but I was desperate.

Kate looked hurt. ‘My room is tidy already. I always keep it tidy.’

‘I know,’ I said. ‘But, what I meant was, you could clean out your wardrobes and bookshelves,
you know – do a proper clear-out.’

Kate’s face was blank. ‘Why?’

Because I don’t think I can bear another morning of doing absolutely nothing?

Kate seemed to be waiting for an answer.

‘Er … because that’s what I do with Victoria and Ruby sometimes. We rearrange the furniture, and move around posters – stuff like that. It’s fun.’

I knew I wasn’t making it sound like much fun, but Kate didn’t argue.

‘Whatever,’ she said, as she got up and led the way upstairs to her bedroom.

She opened the door and let me walk in first. The curtains were drawn back, and the net curtains underneath let in more light than Kate allowed downstairs. I sat on the bed and looked around. I’d only been in Kate’s room a few times before, and now I remembered why. This room sooooo wasn’t a fun place to hang out. It was more like a prison-cell than a young girl’s
bedroom. There were no posters on the walls, no jewellery on the bedside locker, and no piles of clothes on the bed and the floor.

Like Kate had said, it was perfectly neat and tidy.

And perfectly sad.

‘Do you want to help me to sort out my wardrobe?’ asked Kate.

What I really wanted to do was to get out of there, but since this whole thing had been my idea, I nodded, and tried to sound enthusiastic.

‘Sure. Let’s get started.’

Kate’s wardrobe was small and shabby-looking – a bit like something you’d see in the servants’ quarters when you go to visit a stately home on a school tour. As I reached for the wardrobe door, I had a sudden wonderful thought that maybe it was like the magical door to Narnia. Maybe this was the secret path to a different, better world.

As the door creaked open, though, I knew
I was wrong – it was just an ordinary, boring wardrobe.

Inside the wardrobe were a few rattly wire hangers holding up very few clothes.

There were the old tracksuits that Kate had worn when I first met her (including the one that I’d seen on the line when I first arrived in Seacove.)

There was a perfectly-ironed school uniform.

And there were the clothes that Lily and I had helped Kate to choose the summer before. I tried not to look too obvious as I gazed around the bedroom to see if there was another wardrobe somewhere else. There wasn’t though – this appeared to the total of the clothes that Kate owned.

It took me about ten seconds to straighten the clothes on the hangers, and then I reached for two boxes on the floor of the wardrobe.

‘Let’s sort these out,’ I said.

Kate seemed barely interested – like this
wasn’t her room and her stuff.

‘If you want,’ she said.

She sat on her bed and watched as I pulled the boxes out on to the floor.

The first box was filled with schoolbooks, and was already neat and tidy.

The second box was a bit messier, and I was glad of the opportunity to do some actual tidying. I pulled everything out and piled it on the floor. Then I sat down next to it and started to work.

First I picked up a bundle of old paintings.

‘What are these?’ I asked.

‘I did those in Junior Infants,’ said Kate. ‘I guess I never got around to throwing them out.’

‘We’re so not throwing these out,’ I said. ‘They’re totally cute. We could hang them on the wall to brighten the place up a bit.’

Kate shrugged. ‘If you want,’ she said again.

I felt a sudden flash of anger. If Kate didn’t care about her room, then why should I?

Then Kate turned her head, and the light from the window fell on her face. For the first time in ages, I was able to see her properly.

Her skin was pale, and grey-looking. Her eyes were dull and had deep black shadows under them. Her shoulders were hunched over, like every single problem in the world was weighing down on top of her.

I folded the paintings and put them back into the box.

‘This isn’t as much fun as I’d expected,’ I said. ‘I’ll finish up quickly, and then I’ll make us both a cup of hot chocolate. How does that sound?’

‘Sounds great,’ said Kate with a sad smile. ‘Except I don’t have any milk. I’m a vampire, remember? I only go out at night, when the shops are closed.’

I put my head down to hide the sudden tears that came to my eyes. This was all too sad.

‘I’ll go home and get some milk,’ I said. ‘Let me just tidy up the last few things here.’

I picked up a bundle of stuff, and an old scrapbook fell to the floor. As I picked it up, a few photographs fell out.’

‘Cool,’ I said. ‘I love looking at old photographs. I bet you were a totally cute baby.’

Kate didn’t answer, but she didn’t object as I gathered up the photographs and began to look at them.

The first one was a school picture of Kate, taken when she was about ten or eleven. She was glaring at the camera, like she’d love to punch whoever was holding it. I quickly worked it out in my head – the photo must have been taken shortly after her dad left. No wonder the poor girl wasn’t smiling.

I slid that picture to the back of the pile and looked at the next one – another one of Kate. There was no mistaking the curly hair and the dark eyes, but otherwise this could have been an entirely different girl. This Kate was still a baby – a happy laughing baby. She was sitting
on a rug, with her arms stretched up to the sky. Standing beside her were two adults, gazing at Kate like she was the most amazing creature who had ever lived.

‘Is that your—?’ I began, but before I could finish the sentence, Kate was beside me, grabbing the picture from my hand and shoving it roughly into the box.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You got it in one. That’s my mum and dad – back when we were playing happy families. But as you know, that’s all ancient history. I hope you had a good look so you can feel properly sorry for me.’

‘You know I feel sorry for you,’ I said.

‘Well don’t!’ snapped Kate. ‘I don’t want your pity. I don’t need it. I’m perfectly fine, thank you very much.’

I shoved the last few things back into the box, put the box into the wardrobe and closed the door. So much for Narnia.

I stood there, not really sure what to do next.

Kate got up and stood next to me.

‘Sorry, Eva,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have shouted at you.’

‘That’s OK.’

‘And if you could get me some milk that would be great. I’m really, really fed up of eating dry cereal.’

We hugged, and I set off on my quest. When I got back with a half carton of milk, Kate pulled me inside, like I’d been gone for weeks.

‘You’ve been ages,’ she said. ‘What happened?’

‘Well, I got the milk from the fridge, but just as I was leaving, Mum walked in to the kitchen, so I had to make up a complicated story about wanting the milk for a stray cat I’d seen in the field behind our house.’

‘Good thinking.’

‘Maybe. But I was a bit too convincing.’

‘When you’re making up a story, there’s no such thing as “too convincing”.’

‘That’s what you think. When I finished my
story, Mum wanted to come with me, to feed the stray cat, so I took ages persuading her not to, and then she kept trying to give me food for the cat to eat, and in the end I had to practically run out of the house with Mum chasing me with scraps of meat left over from last night’s dinner.’

Kate laughed. ‘You’re so funny, Eva!’

And you’re so pretty when you relax and laugh a bit,
I thought. That sounded totally weird though, so I said nothing as I put the milk on the table.

‘Now let’s get started,’ said Kate. ‘I already have the cups and spoons out, I’m DYING for a hot chocolate––’

Before she could finish the sentence, there was a loud knocking on the front door.

‘OMG,’ whispered Kate. ‘Who on earth could that possibly be?’

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