Summer Secrets (15 page)

I roll over and pull back my duvet and stare at the bottom sheet. Nothing. Then I sit on the edge of my bed and pull down my knickers. There are spots of dark red blood on the cotton. I start to freak out. What if I’m ill? Then it dawns on me. My period.

Finally!

I start to feel all wobbly. What do I do now? I don’t have anything with me – I wasn’t expecting this to happen on holidays – and I refuse to speak to Mum. Clover would know what to do, but she’s in a hotel somewhere in Cork city.

I look at my watch. Five past seven. Clover will kill me for waking her up (she likes her sleep), but it’s an emergency.

“Yello? This had better be important,” Clover says groggily.

“Clover, it’s me. Sorry for ringing so early.”

“What’s wrong, Beanie? Have you got a cold? You sound like Mr Snuffleupagus.”

“Mr who?”

“The elephant from
Sesame Street
. Never mind that – what’s up, jelly tot?”

It’s such a relief to find that Clover is actually speaking to me after the way I treated her yesterday, I start to cry.

“Beanie? Are you OK? Say something. What’s happened? You’re seriously freaking me out here.”

“I got my period!” I wail. “And I don’t know what to do.”

“Congrats – that’s cool, babes. Told you it wouldn’t be long. Don’t be upset, it’s all easy-peasy. But where’s Sylvie? Isn’t she there?”

“I shouted at her last night and now she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you. Don’t be such a moo. Anyway, it wasn’t your fault. You were clearly riddled with PMT.”

“PMT?”

“Pre-menstrual tension. In fact, I should have spotted it.
That
’s why you’ve been in such a bad mood for the last few days. It’s your hormones. They’ve been hopping around like jumping beans. Right, as soon as I’ve got this Efa interview in the bag, I’m going to hop in the car and get down to you lickety-split. I’m taking you shopping in Skibbereen to celebrate.”

“To buy what exactly?” I ask wryly. “A saucepan? Or a pair of green farmer’s wellies?” (The town isn’t exactly inundated with cool shops.)

She laughs. “I see your point. Not exactly New York, is it. Don’t worry, we’ll find something. And we can stock up on sani stuff in the chemist too.”

“But what will I do till then?”

“Darn, my stuff’s all in my wash bag here. Maybe Sylvie has something. Or you could use loo paper. Layer it into a pad. I’ll be as quick as I can, promise.”

After saying goodbye to Clover, I stick my head round the door. All clear. Clutching a clean pair of knickers and my black jeans to my stomach, I run to the bathroom and lock the door behind me. I sit on the toilet and take off my soiled pants.

Then I layer toilet paper in my hand, weaving it backwards and forwards into a pad the way Clover suggested, before popping the wad into my fresh knickers, pulling them up and stepping into my back jeans. At least if I do leak, no one will see.

I ball up the old knickers, wrap them in toilet paper and put them in the bin. Finally, I wash my hands and walk back to my bedroom, trying not to waddle like a penguin.

Mum comes into my room an hour later. “Are you coming down for breakfast, Amy?”

Keeping my eyes firmly fixed on my book, I shake my head.

“OK, then,” she says gently. “I’ll bring something up. You probably feel like resting. It’s a big day for you.”

I look up. “What do you mean?”

“I found your pants when I was putting Evie’s nappy in the bin.”

“Oh.” How humiliating.

“You don’t need to throw them out. A bit of Vanish will deal with it.” She sits down on the bed. “Look, let’s just forget about yesterday, OK? It was probably just a touch of PMT. I get it too.”

I roll my eyes. “I’ve noticed.” Sometimes Mum sits and cries at the kitchen table for no reason. Other times she puts Evie’s babygros in my chest of drawers. Am I going to turn into a basket case every single month like Mum now? I hope not!

She laughs. “Are you all right? Do you need some sanitary towels? I have some Always in my bag. Or do you want to try tampons?”

I gulp. This is all so cringe-inducing. “The Always will be fine. Thanks. I’m going to Skibbereen with Clover later; I can go to a chemist’s then.”

“OK. Remind me to give you some money.” She gives me a hug and kisses the top of my head. “Oh, Amy,” she says into my hair.

“Mum!”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just…” She tails off, her eyes moist. “You’re growing up so quickly. I still remember the day you were born. All that hair – like a little brown mop stuck to your head.” She shakes her head and sighs.

“Sylvie!” Dave yells up the stairs. “Have you seen the baby wipes?”

She stands up. “Duty calls. I’ll be up with toast in a few minutes. Jam?”

I nod.

She lingers at the door for a second, staring at me. She opens her mouth to say something, then closes it again.

“Sylvie!” Dave hollers again. “The poo’s going everywhere.”

“I’ll be right there!” she shouts back. She smiles at me. “I love you so much, Amy. You’re my special first-born and now you’re a woman.”

I nod, willing her to go away. She’s so embarrassing.

“Sylvie! Evie just put her hand in it. Help!”

Mum winces. “Better run.”

Chapter 26

I’m
walking into the Church Cafe in Skibbereen with Clover for lunch, all ready to get the low-down on the Efa interview, when I spot a familiar face sitting at a nearby table. “Gramps! What are you doing here?”

The top of his bald head goes scarlet. “Hello, Amy. Clover. I’m just … well, I’m just…” he falters.

Then I see Esther. She’s sitting opposite him, smiling at us. “Hi, girls,” she says.

She looks really nice. Her long white hair is hanging in a thick plait down her back, the end decorated with a silk sunflower, and she’s wearing a white linen shirt with a wide leather belt and a swishy brown suede skirt.

“Love the belt,” Clover says, glaring at her. “But isn’t it a bit young for you?”

Clover is very protective of Gramps, and she clearly hasn’t forgiven Esther for trying to kill him.

Esther laughs easily. “I’m glad you like it; I got it in Milan. Would you like to join us?” She gestures at the table. It looks a bit on the small side for four.

I glance at Gramps. He’s frowning.

“Love to,” Clover says, undaunted. She pulls a chair over and squashes in beside Esther, pushing Esther’s chair out of the way rather rudely and elbowing her in the side.

I mouth “Sorry” at Gramps, and sit down beside him.

“So,” Clover says to Esther while giving her a sickly sweet smile, “you’ve decided murder isn’t the answer, then.”

“Clover!” Gramps says.

Esther throws her head back and gives a belly laugh. “I suppose I have. Death is horribly overrated.” She turns to Gramps. “Like I said, I’m so sorry, Len. And I must say, it’s very brave of you to agree to meet me for lunch. After the rats and everything.”

“I was curious,” Gramps says with a shrug. “And I reckoned I’d be fairly safe somewhere called the
Church
Cafe.”

Esther smiles. “You’d be surprised. I know the owners very well. I’m sure I could persuade them to slip something in your sandwich.” She gives Gramps a wink. “One of them is Kit Harper’s aunt, in fact.”

“Kit from Haven House?” I ask quickly.

“You’ve met him?” she says.

I nod. “I’ve talked to him as well. He seems nice.”

She seems taken aback. “Really? He usually doesn’t say much. He can be a bit … how can I put this? Abrupt. He hasn’t been the same since his mum—” She breaks off. “Well, since she died. May was the gardener at Haven House before Kit; he’s inherited her green fingers. They were very close, Kit and May; used to do everything together. More like best friends than mother and son. Her death was a real tragedy. Nearly wiped the poor lad out. He’s a bit of a loner now. His dad’s worried about him – but what can you do? There’ll always be a job for him at Haven, although he could do so much more with his life.” She sighs. “Maybe I shouldn’t have interfered, but it seemed like the right thing to do and I’m a woman of impulse.”

“That you are,” Gramps agrees with a grin. “You always were kind-hearted, Esther. And a good little dancer too, if I recall.”

“You were no slouch yourself, Len.” She beams at him, then turns to us. “Len and I go back a long way, girls. To cut a long story short, he broke my heart. Stood me up and then disappeared for a week without a word. I was distraught.” She breaks off and stares down at her hands, then looks up again. “So I decided to get revenge. I thought it would help – but I felt worse afterwards, not better. So I’m here today to apologize. I feel a little foolish, to be frank.”

Gramps is staring at her, his mouth open. “But, Esther, I left a message. With one of your friends at the nurses’ home. Rosalind, I think her name was. I made her swear she’d give it to you.”

Esther snorts. “Rosaleen, you mean? She was hardly a friend. She had a thing for you, Len – didn’t you know?”

He shakes his head. “So you never got my message?”

“No. I thought you’d just gone off me.”

“I’m so sorry.” He reaches out and takes her hand in his. “I’ve never forgotten you, Esther.” He gazes at her, his blue eyes sparkling with warmth. “Never.”

I jump to my feet. “Clover, I’ve just remembered, Mum wants us back for lunch.”

Clover looks at me, her nose wrinkling. “She does?”

“Yes!” I pull her up by the arm. “Nice to meet you again, Esther. Enjoy your lunch.”

“What was that all about?” Clover asks outside, rubbing her arm.

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” I say. “Even Esther. And did you see the way Gramps was looking at her? Methinks we were in large-green-gooseberry land.”

We have lunch in Field’s cafe instead. As we’re walking back towards the car, Clover’s mobile rings.

She answers it. “Yello? Oh, hi Saffy … Really? That’s great to hear … Efa was lovely; I’ll write it up later and file it this evening … What? … Poor Saskia … Yes, I always travel with my passport, just in case. You taught me that … No! Are you serious? … Sounds great … Actually, I know Ria. Yes…” She grins from ear to ear. “Miami? First class? Absa-doodle-oodle! I’ll get back to you within the hour, I promise.”

Clover throws her mobile into her bag and does a little dance on the pavement in the car park. “Mi-a-mi,” she sings, rotating her fists in front of her and wiggling her bum. “Mi-a-mi. I’m going to Mi-a-mi.”

I look at her expectantly. “What’s happened?”

“Efa’s people were very impressed with me. Said I handled the interview very professionally and had obviously done my research.” Clover blows on her fingers and rubs them on her shoulder. “Remember the girl I was telling you about, Saskia Davenport?”

“The journo-vamp who’s after your job?”

“The very one. Well, she fell up some steps at a book launch last night. Broke two fingers and sprained her ankle. I have no idea how you fall
up
steps, but Saffy said champers and Jimmy Choos were involved. She said Saskia’s hopping mad about missing the interview. Ha!”

“When are you going?”

“Tomorrow.” She squeals and flaps her hands – but then her face drops. “Oh póg! What on earth am I going to pack? I need to dress to impress. Matt Munroe. Imagine it, Beanie!” She sighs happily. “I can die a happy woman. Oh, and with Ria Costigan involved in the PR and everything, I might even get to see Mills. Fun!”

It’s a brilliant opportunity for Clover, but I’m starting to feel pretty low. “Tomorrow? For how long?”

“Barely three days. A lot of palaver for one interview, but that’s showbiz. Ah, Beans, why the long face?”

I shrug. “Tomorrow’s Thursday, so you won’t be back till Saturday. That’s three whole days on my ownio. Plus you’ll get to see Mills. How unfair is that?”

“I really am sorry. But we’re not leaving here until Sunday. At least we’ll have one more day together.” Then her face lights up. “Hang on, I have an idea. Does Sylvie still bring all the passports and birth certificates with her on holidays in case the house burns down?”

“Yes.” Suddenly it dawns on me. “You’re going to bring me too! Oh, Clover, please, please, please, please!” I say, jumping up and down in excitement.

She gives me a little smile. “I’m not saying a thing till I’ve conversed with the olds.”

“Clover!” I thump her arm. “You’re impossible.”

“Jeepers, are you determined to scar me for life? Quit attacking me, Beanie – or you’re off
The Goss
for good. Speaking of which, I have an easy-peasy
Goss
letter for you to help me with when we get home. I need to file it before tomorrow. You in?”

“Yes – as long as you let me come to Miami.”

“That’s blackmail.”

I smile. “You’ve taught me everything I know.”