Star Sullivan (2 page)

So Star got to the grown-up age of thirteen full of hope and dreams and sure that the world could be all right if you just believed that it was. They didn’t realise at home that this was the way she felt, because number 24 Chestnut Street was not a house where there was time for people to sit and think about the Meaning of Life.

And there was always a drama, like when Molly had the money saved for a new washing machine, and Shay put it all on a greyhound that was still hopping on three legs around Shelbourne Park.

Or the time when Lilly had fainted at her telesales office and had been sent home with advice from a doctor that she take greater care of herself, as she was starting to show signs of an eating disorder.

Or Kevin’s latest row with his father about not having had enough money to send him to a proper private school where he could have learned PE. And Michael was suspended from school for a whole term and was only taken back because Molly went to the head teacher and pleaded with him.

At Star’s school they were just relieved that Star had a smile instead of the constant sulk and sneer that so many of the girls wore all day. Star did not have a pierced nose or lip, saving endless hours of argument. If someone was needed to help clean up the classroom, or put out the chairs, or change the water in the flower vases, Star would do it without a seven-minute protest, which the teachers would get from the rest of the class.

When Molly came in on the parent–teacher days they told her that Star was a great girl, no trouble at all, which Molly knew already. Star wanted to be a nurse, and the teachers would
say, sure she would be a wonderful nurse, and with a little extra help there was no reason why she couldn’t do that. Was there a chance she could have private teaching? Sadly Molly shook her head. Not a chance in the world, the money they had barely covered things as they were.

Could the older children help possibly, Miss Casey wondered. Molly thought glumly about the three older children and said, not really, to be honest.

Miss Casey didn’t even go down the path of asking if the parents would help. A neighbour maybe? They all led very busy lives of course but there
was
a nice neighbour called Miss Mack in Chestnut Street. She was blind, people did go to visit her and read to her, and it was said that she helped and encouraged them, so maybe it might work for Star.

‘Tell Star she’d be doing the old lady a kindness, that will make her go to see her,’ Miss Casey said.

Star found that Miss Mack was very interested in Star’s school books.

‘Could you read me again the bit about the French Revolution that you read last week? It’s very exciting, isn’t it?’

‘Is it, Miss Mack?’

‘Oh yes, we have to think about why those lords and ladies around the court of the king were so stupid that they didn’t see what was going on in the country and how poor the great mass of the people were. Or
did
they see and not care? That’s what I want to know.’

‘I think they were just blind, Miss Mack,’ Star said, trying to excuse people as usual.

Then she realised what she had said. ‘I mean . . . I’m so sorry, Miss Mack.’

‘Child, it doesn’t matter at all. I
am
blind, I wasn’t always blind, it’s only a word, and in my case it has to do with muscles and things in my eyes wearing out. I recall perfectly what you looked like when you were a little baby. But in the case of the nobles, that was a different kind of blindness, where they wouldn’t see what would disturb them.’

Star was so relieved that her blunder had not caused a scene or an upset that she rushed to speak. ‘I suppose we all do that, Miss Mack, try not to think about bad things, don’t we? You know, try to stop fights and rows and things. I mean, if I had been alive at the French Revolution, I’d have tried to stop them fighting.
I wouldn’t have let them have the thing that chopped people’s heads off. And the heads falling into baskets.’

‘The guillotine, Star. Say it now, say it slowly several times and you’ll never forget it.’

Star said it obediently.

‘Did you want to stop people fighting, Miss Mack?’

‘Yes, I did, but I learned that people only do what they want to do. In the end that’s how it is. I think we are stronger if we sort of accept that. It lets us get on with our own lives.’

‘But aren’t other people our own lives, Miss Mack?’

‘They are, child. They are of course.’

Miss Mack sighed. Star didn’t have to tell her of all the problems there were at Number 24. Everyone knew. Shay, who would gamble his last euro on anything that was offered. Molly, who was worn out from working and saving. Young Kevin, moody and unhappy, kicking stones around the road. Lilly, who had starved herself to become a model and now had an eating disorder. Michael, who was as near to a criminal as a fifteen-year-old could be. Thoughtful little Star, with the pensive eyes and
the long shiny hair, who worried about them all from morning to night.

It was Star’s fourteenth birthday and a lot of things happened that day. The Hale family moved in next door into number 23. It had been empty for six months because the Kelly family, who had never visited poor old Mr Kelly who used to live there, had fought over what should be done about it. In the end they sold it quickly to the Hales. Star watched them arrive as the removal van was being unpacked, hoping there might be a girl her age. She didn’t have many friends at school, as the other girls thought she was a bit boring.

But no sign of a schoolgirl. A man, his wife, who looked a lot younger than him, a greyhound and finally, last out of the van, a boy – well, a man nearly . . . Someone about eighteen or nineteen. Star watched in amazement as he took out of the van his guitar and his racing bike. She saw how he pushed his damp hair away from his face. She saw the sweat on his dark grey T-shirt as he helped to carry in the furniture. Could he be part of the removal company or was he part of the family? As the
minutes went by, she found herself hoping that he was part of the family. Imagine having a boy next door. A boy who looked like that!

Soon she could bear it no longer and went down to stand at her front door.

‘Hallo,’ she said as he passed by, carrying a table.

‘Hallo there.’ He had a great smile.

‘I’m Star Sullivan,’ she said. Her heart was beating fast. Never had she found the courage to talk to a good-looking boy like this. Somehow this was different.

‘Well, hallo, Star Sullivan. I’m Laddy Hale,’ he said.

Laddy Hale. She said the words with wonder. It was such a great name. She had better go now before she said something stupid and made him lose that big smile.

Star was in love.

L
IFE WENT ON AS
usual in Chestnut Street for everyone except Star.

Molly got more hours working in the supermarket, which was just as well because Shay had a huge loss on what was meant to be a sure thing at Fairyhouse Racecourse.

Kevin had had a row with the gym and was now working in a big hotel, partly in their fitness centre but also partly as a hotel porter, which he didn’t like at all. He hid in case he ever met anyone he knew.

Lilly had a fall coming home from work and when the ambulance took her to hospital the doctors called Molly in and showed her Lilly’s arms, which were like thin sticks. The girl was in danger of dying from lack of food, they said.

Michael was in deep trouble. He had been part of a gang who stole sixty pairs of jeans from a store and were caught selling them at a
market. He was on probation this time, but the next offence would land him in custody.

It was not a house where it was ever easy to study or do homework, but now it was worse than ever. Star couldn’t sit in the living room because her father and Kevin were always arguing over work or what to watch on the television. The kitchen table was always covered in cheap vegetables, which her mother would buy at the end of the day in the supermarket. Every night she would make a different soup with them. Every night Lilly refused to eat it because it was full of fat. Michael was watched like a hawk. If he so much as stepped outside the front door, half the family was after him, getting him back.

And all the time the Hales lived next door. Mr Hale went out at seven-thirty every morning to his job in a garden centre, where he had to open up, do the watering and leave out the small plants that might tempt workers on their way to their offices.

Star had learned all this slowly over months and months of trying to get to know Laddy’s family. The young woman that she had thought was his mother wasn’t his mother at
all, she discovered, just a friend of the family. Laddy’s mother had long gone. Took off one day and never came back. The woman’s name was Biddy. She worked in a pub so she left later in the morning and came back later at night.

Laddy came and went. Star had asked him what he did and he said, a bit of this, a bit of that. She had nodded as if it had meant something to her.

Star’s mother didn’t really approve of the Hales. They had a great garden, yes, sure, but then why wouldn’t they? Owen Hale, the father, often brought a lot of stuff home with him of an evening. Then that Biddy was no better than she should be, half Owen’s age for one thing, and she went out to work dressed like a tart in the late mornings. And the son, trouble if ever she saw it.

Star’s dad did not agree. Owen Hale was a decent skin, glad to buy a pint and talk up a race; the young one – the friend of the family with the big chest – was a fine looker; and the boy was only a kid and at least he had a smile on him, which was more than you could say for Kevin.

Kevin didn’t notice the Hale family much,
because he had too much to think about. The hotel manager had told him that he was to think of himself as a hotel porter with duties in the fitness centre, nothing more, nothing less. He could take it or leave it. There were a lot of Eastern Europeans who would die for the job
and
have a smile on their faces.

It worried Star to see her brother so upset. She asked her two friends, Miss Casey at school and Miss Mack over at number 3, what they thought about it all. These were women who could keep secrets. They both said that Kevin shouldn’t give up the day job, but he could always look around for jobs in gyms and spas at the same time.

Lilly didn’t really notice the Hale family either. She was beside herself because she said that rolls of fat had appeared around her ribs. Star couldn’t see them or feel them, and she knew that Lilly was vomiting every day to get rid of the food that their mother made her eat.

Michael was in a world of his own as he needed to find somewhere to hide boxes of CDs and DVDs very quickly. He knew he could tell Star about it as she wouldn’t inform on him. Not that she was any help. She just sat there listening to him. Her mind miles away.

‘Oh, go on, Star, say something. What do you think?’ Michael asked.

Star hadn’t been listening.

‘What are you thinking about?’

‘I was thinking about Laddy Hale next door,’ she said without meaning to.

Michael smiled slowly. ‘That’s not a bad idea. I’m sure he’d help,’ he said, and was gone before Star could stop him.

She watched in horror from the upstairs window as she saw her brother make shapes with his hands, showing the size of the boxes. Laddy seemed to be nodding and agreeing. Then she saw Michael rush back home and collect four huge boxes, which he and Laddy carried into the Hales’ shed.

Star was torn by this. It was good that Laddy had formed some kind of bond with her brother, true. That brought them all closer together. But it was bad if Laddy was prepared so easily to handle stolen goods. Very bad.

The very next day the police came around, acting, they said, on information received. They had a warrant to search number 24 Chestnut Street for stolen CDs and DVDs.

They found nothing.

Laddy was in his garden cleaning his racing bike as they left. He raised his head to look as any interested neighbour might. Star bit her lip as she watched.

Michael was outraged. ‘How
dare
they come and hassle us like this? It’s just a case of giving a dog a bad name, isn’t it, Mam? Isn’t it, Dad?’ His parents shook their heads, dazed with relief that this time, at any rate, Michael had not been at the centre of some crime.

Only Star knew where the stuff was hidden. She tried to put it out of her mind but she had not reckoned on Michael. Michael now thought of Laddy as his partner in crime.

‘He’s an all right fellow, that Laddy,’ Michael said. He said this often and for no reason.

‘What does he actually
do
for a living?’ Star’s mother would ask.

‘A bit of this and a bit of that,’ Star heard herself saying.

‘Exactly.’ Michael looked at her with approval.

Star asked her mother to get any nice shampoo that might be going cheap at the supermarket. Molly was surprised. Unlike the rest of her
family Star never asked for anything.

‘Something that would make my hair less like a brown mouse,’ Star suggested.

‘You have lovely hair, Star. Real chestnut colour,’ her mother replied.

‘Whatever,’ Star said, not believing it for a moment.

And then Star bought a skinny, tight red top with her pocket money. Usually she bought treats for Kylie, the cat at number 20, or chocolate biscuits for Miss Mack at number 3. This was not her usual spending pattern.