The Shoestring Club (9 page)

Just before seven that evening I hear voices in the hall and Iris squealing. I peer out of my bedroom door. Dad’s throwing Iris up in the air and catching her and she’s shrieking with delight. I step out and stand watching them for a moment over the banisters. He used to do the same to me – he’s always been as strong as an ox from all the timber he lifts.

I close my eyes and recall what he used to look like. The same thick curls as mine, his a little darker brown, tied back in a ponytail, tight goatee, pirate earrings in both ears. He still has the earrings, but his beard and hair are now silver – when Mum died it went grey practically overnight – and his skin is tanned and leathery from years working outdoors. He always refuses to wear sun cream. Whenever Bird or Pandora lecture him about skin cancer, he always says, ‘It’s in the lap of the gods anyway.’

He puts Iris down and, sensing me, looks up.

‘Hey, Boolie,’ he says with a grin.

I smile at him.

‘Hey, Dad.’

‘Hi, Auntie Jules.’ Iris beams up at me. ‘Don’t forget me.’

‘How could I forget you?’ I say. ‘Especially in that lovely outfit.’ She’s wearing a blue cotton sailor’s dress, teamed with a red cardigan and red ballet pumps and her long, straight brown hair is in two neat plaits. Pandora always has her beautifully turned out.

‘Come on down and tell us about your week, Boolie,’ Dad says. ‘I’ve missed all my girls. Including this wee scallywag here.’ He lunges towards Iris and starts to tickle her under both arms.

‘Stop, Grandpa Greg,’ Iris says through fits of giggles.

He picks her up and throws her over one shoulder in a fireman’s lift.

‘I’m starving,’ he says. ‘Let’s eat. To the kitchen.’

‘I have to wash my hands, Grandpa,’ Iris insists. ‘I was out collecting honey with Bird. I’ve got germs.’ She waves her little palms in his face. She’s so like Pandora sometimes.

He lets her down gently.

‘Off you go, pet.’

She runs off and we’re left alone. I look at Dad. I know I have to tell him about Baroque but I’d really rather not.

‘What is it, Boolie? You look worried. Spit it out.’

I sigh. He knows me backwards.

‘Rowie can’t afford to keep me on any more,’ I say, coming straight out with it. ‘The shop’s not doing so well and she’s had to let me go.’

‘Completely?’ he asks. ‘She can’t even keep you on part-time?’

‘Completely.’

He sucks his teeth then says, ‘Maybe Pandora could have a word with her, ask her to reconsider. A few days a week would be better than nothing. She’d be mad to lose such a good employee.’

I look at him, my sweet, kind, loyal Dad and my eyes start to well up.

‘Ah, Boolie, don’t cry. Come here to me.’ He holds out his arms and I fall into them, wood shavings from his checked work shirt tickling my cheek. I dissolve into tears, engulfed in the smell of fresh sap.

He strokes my head.

‘It’ll be OK, Boolie. Pandora will fix it. I’m sure you’ll have your job back by this evening. And if not, we’ll think of something else. It’ll all work out, you’ll see.’

‘Thanks, Dad.’ I sniff, and he pulls the end of his sleeve so that it’s in front of my face.

‘Dad! I’m not wiping my nose on your shirt, I’m not three.’

He laughs. ‘Sorry, I forget sometimes. Go and get a tissue. There’s the dinner gong. Bird’s really going for it tonight.’

We both listen to the hollow bongs together, smiling. Although Bird has her own apartment in the basement, she spends practically all her time up here. She and Pandora take turns to cook dinner every evening, unless Dad is around. Or in Bird’s case, reheating dinner. She hates cooking, swears by M&S ready meals. I grab a tissue from the hall table, dab at my eyes and then follow Dad into the kitchen. Iris skips back in to join us.

‘So tell me about
your
week, Pandora,’ Dad says from his seat at the head of the table while Bird and Iris dish up – Iris carefully spooning rice onto each plate, Bird sloshing Thai Green Curry across them haphazardly.

‘Not much to say really.’ Pandora reaches across me for the water jug.

‘Water anyone?’ she says, looking at me pointedly.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘You poured yourself a glass and then ignored the rest of us, Jules.’

‘Sorry, I have things on my mind.’

‘Like Baroque you mean? Have you told Dad yet?’

I stare at her. She’s such a busybody sometimes. Luckily, yes, I have told him. But she wasn’t to know that.

There’s a long silence while Bird plonks a plate in front of me, and then Pandora. Iris carries Dad’s over with two hands and places it squarely on his table mat.

Bird puts a plate out for herself and Iris, smoothes down her skirt and takes her seat. Then she says, ‘Pandora’s right, Boolie, he does need to know.’

‘I’ve just told him.’ I raise my eyebrows at Pandora. ‘Satisfied?’

Dad looks at Pandora. ‘And I’m sure Rowie will reconsider if you ring her and explain that Julia would be happy to work part-time. Or even take a slight pay cut if that helps. She just wants to keep her job; isn’t that right, pet?’

He turns and pats my hand and I nod.

Pandora sits back in her seat and folds her arms across her chest. ‘No way, Dad. I’m not ringing Rowie. She must have had her reasons for firing Jules and I’m not getting involved.’

He frowns at her. ‘But she’s your sister, Pandora. And she needs your help.’

‘Can we talk about this after dinner, please? I missed lunch and I’m starving.’ She picks up her fork and starts shovelling rice into her mouth.

‘Pandora,’ Bird says, a warning tone in her voice.

Pandora doesn’t look up. ‘I’m tired, Bird. And I need to eat.’ Pandora gets even rattier if she hasn’t eaten. It’s something to do with her blood-sugar levels apparently.

‘Let’s all eat,’ Dad says quickly. ‘Pandora’s right, we can talk about it later. So Iris, what did you get up to this week?’

Iris pushes back her dark-brown fringe with her hand. It’s a little long and is falling over her eyes.

‘Science camp,’ she says. ‘We made crystals and bath bombs and stuff. It was cool.’ Her face drops a little. ‘But a bit messy. I got blue food colouring down my white dress yesterday.’

‘It did say to wear old clothes, Iris,’ Pandora says. ‘And I gave you that old shirt of Grandpa’s to put over your dress.’

‘But I wanted to look nice.’ Iris’s cheeks go a little pink.

‘To impress the cute science nerd,’ I say, wiggling my eyebrows. ‘What’s his name again?’

She kicks me under the table. ‘Shut up.’

Bird hits her glass with her fork. ‘Language, Iris, please.’

‘Sorry, Bird. But Auntie Jules was teasing me.’

Bird frowns at me. ‘Julia.’

I try not to laugh. ‘Only because I love you, Iris, honest. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. Any boy would be lucky to have you as his friend.’

‘Thanks, Auntie Jules.’ Iris smiles brightly at me.

‘And there’s this cool exploding bread soda and vinegar trick I could show you later if you like,’ I add.

‘Cool!’

Pandora looks less impressed. ‘Don’t expect me to clear up after you both,’ she grumbles.

‘We’d never do anything like that,’ I say, throwing Iris a wink. ‘Would we, Iris?’

Iris just giggles.

After apple pie and ice cream (the pie a little cold in the middle but I’m not complaining), Dad bravely opens the Rowie subject again over coffee. ‘Pandora,’ he says. ‘I want you to consider, just consider, ringing Rowie.’

‘Dad!’

He puts his hands up. ‘Let me finish. I think Boolie has learnt her lesson, haven’t you, pet?’

I nod enthusiastically. ‘Yes, absolutely. Tell Rowie I’ll never come in late again.’

‘I’m just asking you to think about it, Pandora, that’s all,’ he adds finally. ‘Subject closed.’

Pandora’s jaw is stiff. ‘I know you, Dad. You’ll go on and on at me every day, making me feel bad until I do it. Why can’t Jules ring Rowie herself?’

Dad sighs. ‘Because Rowie is your friend. And Jules is your sister. I’m asking you to do this for me.’

‘OK, fine, I’ll do it right now if it makes you happy. But for the record I don’t think it will do any good.’

Pandora pushes her chair back, the legs screeching against the tiles, and stands up.

‘Thank you, Pandora,’ Bird says. ‘I know Jules really appreciates it, don’t you darling?’

I nod again, keeping quiet. Pandora’s giving me an I’m-going-to-kill-someone-and-it-might-just-be-you look.

While she’s out of the room, Iris pipes up, ‘Do you have any old perfume bottles, Bird? We’re making rose petal perfume in camp tomorrow.’

‘Are you dear, how lovely. I’ll certainly have a look.’

‘I used to do that,’ I say. ‘With Mum, remember, Dad? We used to collect all the flowers and steep them in this special glycerine stuff she bought from the chemist, and then strain the petals away. It actually smelt pretty good.’

Dad stands up and starts collecting the dessert bowls, clattering them into each other loudly.

‘Greg, darling, sit down, I’ll do that,’ Bird smiles gently at him.

He’s still ignoring me. There’s an awkward atmosphere in the room.

‘Dad?’ I say again softly.

Bird looks at him. ‘I’m sure you do remember, don’t you, Greg? Kirsten and Boolie making perfume?’

Dad just mumbles, ‘Yeah,’ under his breath. But he still won’t meet my eyes.

Bird’s about to say something else when Pandora storms back into the room, all guns blazing.

‘I can’t believe you held a rave in Baroque, Julia. Are you deranged?’

Yikes. I shift in my seat. ‘It wasn’t a rave. It was just a small get-together thing. To celebrate The Leaf Doctor’s debut album. And I cleaned up afterwards. We only lost one T-shirt and I paid for it out of my wages.’

It was Ed’s idea. He’s a researcher on the
Danny Delaney Morning Show
on 2FM and knows all the up-and-coming Dublin bands. I think they befriend him in the hope that their music will get a spin on the radio. But I keep Ed’s involvement to myself; Bird has a limbo low opinion of him as it is.

Pandora shakes her head. ‘You’re such an idiot. Rowie says there’s no way she’s taking you back, ever. She loves you as a friend but she says it’s too stressful being your boss.’ Pandora turns to Dad. ‘I told you it was a bad idea. Rowie was very nice about it, but she’s not going to change her mind. In fact she’s already replaced Jules.’

I feel a tiny stab to the heart. Replaced me? Rowie said she couldn’t afford to employ anyone else; I guess she was just trying to spare my feelings. My spirits sink even lower.

‘Thanks for trying, love,’ Dad says.

Pandora stares at him. ‘What about the rave? If I did something like that, you’d murder me.’

Dad smiles gently. ‘I’m sure Boolie has learnt her lesson, haven’t you, chicken?’

I nod, keeping my mouth shut. I know what’s coming next.

Pandora’s eyes are flashing. ‘This is exactly why she can’t hold down a job, Dad. You have to stop treating her like a child. She keeps taking advantage of everyone, doing stupid things and getting away with it. She’s twenty-four and she’s living at home, scrounging off you. I’m sorry, Jules, but it’s the truth.’

Bird slaps her palms down onto the table, making us all jump. ‘Pandora, your father is only doing his best. We all need to support Julia in her job hunt, build up her confidence.’ She gives Pandora a loaded look.

‘Bird’s right,’ Dad says. ‘There’s no point worrying about things that happened in the past, we all need to look forwards, not backwards. I’m sure Boolie will be snapped up in no time.’ He smiles at me. ‘Employers will be dying to hire a beautiful, smart girl like you. And if the worst comes to the worst, you can always go full-time at Shoestring.’

Pandora snorts loudly. ‘Hello? Whose shop is it exactly?’

‘Mine,’ Bird says firmly. ‘But I don’t think it’s come to that yet.’ She pats Dad’s hand. ‘Let’s wait and see what happens. Boolie may surprise us all yet.’

But no one around the table looks very convinced. I feel about an inch tall. ‘Can I be excused, Bird?’ I say. ‘I have something to do upstairs. Job hunting stuff.’

She nods. ‘Of course, darling.’

I walk quickly out the door, run upstairs to my room, and flop down on my duvet, completely fed up.

A little later, Bird walks in the door and sits down on the side of my bed. ‘Is anything wrong, Boolie? You seemed a little upset after dinner.’

I sit up and shuffle down the bed, away from her.

‘I’m fine,’ I say, willing her to leave me alone.

‘You’re clearly not. What’s bothering you? Is it your sister? I know she can be a little sharp sometimes, but she only has your best interests at heart. She’s devoted to you, darling, you know that.’

I snort. ‘Really? Because she sure as hell doesn’t show it. Blabbing to Dad about Baroque like that. Calling me a scrounger.’