The Wish Page 13

  ‘No thanks. I’d better not … I’m … err …’ Holly glanced away and fiddled with the zip on her hoody before adding ‘diabetic’ in a softer voice. And Jude was surprised at how shy Holly had become all of a sudden. It was unlike her. But more surprising was the way Myles reacted to this information. It was as if he got Holly right away, was on her wavelength, and instinctively knew how to put her at her ease.

  ‘Wow. What type?’ he asked, not missing a beat, as if it were a perfectly typical thing to chat to a stranger about. Holly appeared to relax, her shoulders lowered and she stopped fidgeting. ‘Are you the shot-in-the-arm proper hard-core type –’ he stopped talking to make a clicking sound as he did a syringe-going-into-the-crook-of-his-elbow action – ‘or the boring, live-on-lettuce-while-not-being-allowed-to-ever-have-chocolate type?’ Myles pretended to sulk by folding his arms across his chest and pushing his bottom lip out. Holly looked up at him and did a half-smirk.

  ‘The hard-core one,’ Holly said, her voice only wavering momentarily, but Jude still stepped closer, feeling protective of her goddaughter and wondering if she should move the conversation on to something more comfortable for her.

  ‘No way!’ Myles said, nodding his head impressively. ‘Well, put it there.’ He laid his palm out flat for Holly to slide her hand across. And she did, her eyes lighting up at this unexpected praise and acceptance. ‘Oh that’s too bad. But I guess that means laters for the Sherbet Dip Dab. You has to go,’ he added in a silly voice as he talked to the packet directly before tossing it into a nearby dustbin. Then, after offloading his shotgun onto one of the security blokes, who appeared right on cue from behind a bush, he took three giant strides to stand in front of Holly and turned around so he had his back towards her. ‘Piggyback to the pig pen?’ Myles grinned as he bent his knees and braced his body ready for Holly to jump onto his back. She giggled, glanced at Jude, and then, without any hesitation whatsoever, Holly pushed her pink satchel out of the way and hopped aboard, before clasping her hands around his shoulders.

  Moments later, Myles was galloping across the lawn towards the pig pen, with his arms looped around Holly’s calves, and whooping like a kid arriving at Disney World for the first time, having the most fun ever. Jude stared after them, gobsmacked, before following on behind. He really is a looper – eccentric, even – she thought as he let out a big whinnying noise. But somehow, only he could get away with doing something bonkers like this. And Jude found herself smiling on hearing Holly’s laughter, her fair hair flaring all around as Myles darted here, there and everywhere until he reached the pig pen and pretended to offload Holly inside it, and right onto a big pile of pig poo.

  ‘Noooo. Don’t you dare,’ Holly yelped, pushing Myles’s silly deerstalker hat forward, making it fall down over his eyes, so he then staggered around as if blind, stumbling into things and making her laugh so much that tears tumbled over her cheeks. And, suddenly, Jude saw Myles King in a completely different light. Fun and funny, he was energetic and actually quite sweet as he eventually put Holly down, very carefully, on top of a nearby stack of hay bales. She wondered if perhaps this was the real Myles? Fun and frolicky, and not the cocky, guarded persona from earlier. She found the possibility intriguing.

  ‘There you go, Holls. Now, come and see the pigs,’ he said, as if the thirteen-year-old girl was his new best friend. Holly jumped up and darted over to the pen, keen to get inside.

  ‘Thanks, Myles,’ Holly beamed, her worries from the other day, when she’d ended up on the floor by the fuse box, seeming to have disappeared. And that pleased Jude no end. It can’t be easy being stuck in the middle of two estranged parents. Plus managing the diabetes had been difficult for her – it had taken her a long time to accept it, and then learn how to manage the checking and administering of the insulin. Holly had gone through a period of resentment and anger at being different from her friends. Chrissie had told Jude all about it in their long phone chats. Soon after the diagnosis, Holly had come home after a day out shopping with her friends, and had been bereft because she hadn’t been able to join in when they all went for milkshakes – the enormous Galaxy bar blended ones, which had mountains of whipped cream on top and were smothered in sprinkles. It had been Holly’s favourite indulgence. A big part of her social life, too, going to the shopping centre in Market Briar with the girls, and into the café, where they all sat in a booth giggling and flirting with the boys from behind their tall milkshakes with big bendy straws. Holly had taken it out on Chrissie, screaming at her for daring to suggest that a bottle of water or a glass of plain milk were good alternatives, before stomping up to her bedroom. It had stuck in Jude’s mind, as Chrissie had actually cried when telling Jude what had happened, which was unlike her. She was particularly upset and fed up as it had happened a few days after the first weekend Sam hadn’t come home as promised. Jude had even offered to call Sam to see if she could subtly suggest he talk to Holly about it, figuring that might make things easier for her friend. But Chrissie wouldn’t hear of it. She had clammed up and apologised for complaining, saying she didn’t want anyone thinking she couldn’t cope.

  ‘Can I cuddle one of them please?’ Holly asked Myles.

  ‘Sure. Which one do you want, Holls?’ he replied easily, opening the gate to the pen and jumping inside before quickly closing the gate again behind him.

  Holly leaned over the side and pointed to a tiny runt of a pig with pretty, tiger-like stripes crisscrossing its little back. It was in the corner all by itself, like the odd one out. And she felt really sorry for it.

  ‘Good choice. He’s my favourite too.’ And, after darting his way all around the pen trying to catch him, Myles soon succeeded and scooped the piglet up into his arms before handing him to Holly.

  ‘That’s it. Hold him firmly in your arms, as if you’re rocking a baby. But not too tightly, as he’ll wriggle and you might drop him.’ Jude watched on in awe as Myles helped Holly hold the piglet the correct way. Fondly, he touched the tip of his fingers to the pig’s little head and said, ‘So, what shall we call him?’ Holly looked up at Myles as he continued, ‘I bet you can come up with a really good name for him …’

  ‘Really? Can I choose his name?’ Holly beamed, and gave Jude a look of pure delight, making her heart melt.

  ‘Sure you can,’ Myles nodded.

  ‘How about Tiger?’ Holly quickly decided.

  ‘Awesome!’ He gave Holly a playful nudge on the arm, and Jude grinned, chuffed to bits to see her goddaughter with an enormous smile on her face, the anxiety from before floating away. ‘Right, I’ll see if Sylvia can rustle up some lunch. Fish and chips be OK for you?’

  ‘Yum. Yes please,’ Holly said, giving Tiger another stroke before handing him to Myles to put back in the pen.

  After washing their hands in the newly installed little basin in the barn a few metres away, Jude and Holly had a chance to chat while Myles strode over to the manor house to find Sylvia.

  ‘So, how are you feeling after your fall the other day? No bruises I hope,’ Jude asked brightly.

  ‘OK, thanks. No bruises.’ Holly confirmed quietly, not really wanting to talk about it now.

  ‘Good. I’m pleased.’ Jude looped her arm through Holly’s as they started making their way over to the manor house.

  ‘And your mum? Everything OK now between you two?’ Jude continued, treading carefully. The last thing she wanted was for Holly to clam up, or – worse still – think Chrissie had asked her to have a chat with her daughter.

  ‘Dunno,’ Holly shrugged. ‘She still hates me.’

  ‘What do you mean? I thought you two got on really well … I know you clash a bit sometimes, you always have, and that’s the way it is sometimes with family. But what’s changed, love?’

  ‘She has,’ Holly replied, wondering if it was all right to talk to Aunty Jude. What if she told Mum? She might go even more ballistic. Holly looked sideways at Jude as she tried to work it all out.

  ‘How’s that then?�
� Jude asked.

  ‘Um.’ Holly bit her lip, figuring if she trusted Aunty Jude then she might help sort everything out. She might even get Mum and Dad back together again – Mum would be happy and get off her back then, and Dad wouldn’t be sad any more. Aunty Jude could talk to them both and help make the wish come true. Or, at the very least, she might have some better ideas for her Get Mum and Dad Back Together in Time for My Birthday plan than just sending them flowers and chocolates, which hadn’t worked anyway. Mum hadn’t been at all happy with her surprise flowers … and had even moaned to Dad about the lilies. Holly had heard her shouting at him on the phone and knew that she needed to do something fast. Before Mum actually hated Dad or, worse still, Dad had enough of her and gave up. So she decided to go for it and tell Aunty Jude.

  ‘Well, she’s always angry and moaning. Everything I do is wrong. I can’t do anything right. She’s always been bossy, but it’s really bad now. I can hardly breathe without her telling me off!’ Holly pushed her chin down into the collar of her hoodie and puffed out a long breath. She had to admit that she did actually feel a bit better for letting it all out.

  ‘Ahh, I’m quite certain your mum doesn’t hate you, darling.’

  ‘Why is she always annoyed with me then?’ Holly asked. It was so unfair. She had tried not to wind Mum up, but it was like she wanted to be angry with her.

  ‘I’m sorry if it seems that way. But she does care about you very much. Adores you, you know that,’ Jude offered, making a mental note to have a proper conversation with Chrissie. Someone had to. It seemed the whole family – Holly, Sam and Chrissie – were each coping in isolation. None of them talking to each other properly; it was heartbreaking to see such a happy family unit so fractured and broken.

  ‘Well, she has a funny way of showing it.’ Holly couldn’t remember the last time Mum was nice to her. ‘All she cares about is homework and panicking about the diabetes and going to her stupid choir practice. It was never like this when Dad was at home. He always made everything good.’

  ‘Did he?’

  ‘Yes, he’s so funny and chilled out. I wish Mum was like him.’

  ‘She’s funny too sometimes, though, isn’t she?’ Jude said. ‘Do you remember when you were little and she went to lift that bag of flour off the shelf and it fell and puffed all over her head?’

  ‘Yes! It was in her hair and all over her face. And she gave Dad loads of floury kisses so he got covered in it too. It was really funny.’

  ‘And you couldn’t stop giggling as she chased you around the house—’

  ‘The flour monster!’ Thinking about it made Holly feel happy and she wanted it to be like that again.

  ‘Yes that’s right.’ Jude liked remembering the good times. And she was going to remind Chrissie of them. Sam as well, if she had to. She was going to get them talking and sorting it all out, one way or another.

  ‘I wish it was still like that.’

  ‘Me too,’ Jude grinned. ‘And, you know, I think all teenagers feel the way you do. I know I did. I used to argue with my dad all the time when I was your age, and the thing is, the more you rebel, the more your mum will want to lay down the law. It’s what parents do. It’s their job to be the boss of you,’ she offered, trying to lighten things but feeling a bit out of her depth. She didn’t want Holly to think she was siding with Chrissie, or she would never talk to her, and Holly clearly needed someone to talk to right now. But at the same time … Holly did have a point. Jude knew her friend so well, how she needed to be in control – too much so sometimes. Of course, she knew why; Chrissie felt under enormous strain with her marriage problems and Holly’s health, and without enough support from Sam for far too long. But caught in the middle of it all was a vulnerable young girl who quite clearly needed both her parents. Who would benefit from the complementary elements of her parents’ styles. Sam’s easy-going nature to Chrissie’s steadiness – if she could ease off with the need for control a bit and accept some help, and Sam could grow up and commit a bit more, then from where Jude was standing, things might be a whole lot better.

  ‘But she’s like it to Dad too.’

  ‘Is she?’ Jude creased her forehead.

  ‘Yes, Mum is so evil to him and he hasn’t even done anything wrong. And she gets cross with me because I want him to stay at our house and not at Granny Dolly’s – if he came home everything would be all right again.’

  Jude inhaled and kept quiet, mindful of interfering in her best friend’s marriage. As far as Chrissie was concerned, Sam had done things wrong, but it wasn’t her place to talk about any of that with Holly, so she settled on:

  ‘Maybe your mum missed your dad when he was away. Sometimes people can get cross if they feel like they’ve been left to look after everything.’ A short silence followed. ‘Like the house and stuff,’ Jude then quickly added, as the last thing she wanted was for Holly to interpret this as Chrissie being cross for looking after her without Sam around. That wasn’t what Jude meant at all. It was such a minefield.

  ‘But Dad was working to look after everything too. Pay the mortgage and all that.’

  ‘True, and now that he’s back, perhaps we can help your mum and dad get things back to how they used to be. Would you like that?’

  ‘Yes. Definitely. I don’t mind Mum being the boss of me –’ Holly stopped and giggled – ‘if she’s funny too … like the flour monster. I want Mum to be happy again. But can I ask you something, Aunty Jude?’

  ‘Sure. Ask away, darling,’ Jude said warmly, and then waited for what felt like ages for Holly to speak.

  ‘Will you help me please?’

  ‘Help you?’ Jude stopped walking and looked sideways at Holly, who stopped walking too, but then bowed her head and started fiddling again. ‘Hey, what is it?’ Jude was alarmed now as her brain immediately went into overdrive trying to work out what on earth her thirteen-year-old goddaughter could possibly want her help with. Jesus, please don’t let her be pregnant, or in trouble with the police. Or … drugs!

  ‘Yes, Mum’s got a boyfriend you see, and—’

  ‘Has she?’ Jude interjected. She felt astounded, surprised and relieved all at the same time, followed by a rush of shame that she had let her head run away with such wild thoughts. She wasn’t in LA any more. No, this was the sleepy little village of Tindledale, where it would be far more unlikely for young girls like Holly to be dabbling in drugs. Where would she get them, for starters? There were no nightclubs or pubs in the village that tolerated that kind of thing, and there certainly weren’t any dubious characters cruising around the High Street, or not that she had noticed …

  ‘Yeah, he’s called Gavin,’ Holly continued. ‘And I reckon that’s why she hates me. I’ve been thinking … it explains why she’s always so moody with me. I thought at first it was because she missed Dad or was still cross with him for not coming home when he promised he would. But he’s back for good now and she’s still angry all the time. If it wasn’t for me, then she wouldn’t even have to ever see Dad again, she could be with Gavin all the time. She could let him live with her and everything.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ Jude said casually, making a mental note to ask Chrissie about this surprising revelation, and wondering why her best friend hadn’t mentioned it. They usually confided in each other, always had done over the years, and a boyfriend was definitely something that would have been discussed. Unless Chrissie had something to hide … maybe she felt ashamed, guilty, or embarrassed of course. Or perhaps a mixture of all those emotions, which was entirely possible given that Chrissie was married. To Sam Morgan. The guy they had both been friends with since primary school. Or what if the boyfriend, Gavin, was married? Perhaps that’s why Chrissie hadn’t said anything to her? But Chrissie wouldn’t do that, would she? She just wasn’t the type, was she? Jude pondered momentarily and then forced the bundle of confusing thoughts away.

  ‘And Gavin is such a dickhead.’

  Jude stifled a laugh by placing the back of h
er hand over her mouth and turning away. She could hardly tell Holly off for saying ‘dickhead’ … no, that would just make her a hypocrite, as Jude was rather fond of using that word, if the person was behaving in such a way as to warrant it. Scott, for example, her cocky American ex-boyfriend, had definitely been one. And Myles too – Jude had thought he was a giant dickhead until today, but now she wasn’t so sure …. The way he had been with Holly earlier was touching, kind and absolutely not remotely dickheadish behaviour whatsoever. In fact, she felt it was fair to say that she was starting to thaw towards Myles King.

  ‘Oh, why’s that then?’ Jude asked, still keeping things light. But she was intrigued to know more about the elusive Gavin.

  ‘I dunno.’ Holly shrugged. ‘He just is. The daft-looking grin on his face for starters.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Jude stifled another snort of laughter. ‘So where did your mum meet Gavin?’

  ‘At choir practice. He takes her in his car. She gets all dressed up for him. And I overheard her flirting on the phone with him … laughing and saying “shush” in a weird way. They’ve been out for dinner too!’

  ‘Right.’ Jude logged this information for discussion with Chrissie later. It was hardly evidence of a new sexual relationship for Holly’s mum, at the exclusion of the dad she adored, but Holly was obviously anxious about it.

  Holly fell silent for a second or two, and then added in a more earnest tone, ‘So will you help me, please?’

  ‘Sure, if I can; what is it you want me to do?’ Jude was never one to shy away from a little bit of subterfuge.

  ‘Help me get Mum and Dad back together in time for my birthday. I know they still love each other. And I’m sure Mum would stop being angry and blaming me if she was happy. They could both be happy again. We all would. It would be like a wish come true. And that would be the best birthday present of all, don’t you think?’