This Way to Paradise (5 page)

‘What for?'

‘Dunno, but he said to come now. Front room.'

Hopefully he's found a job he likes,
I thought as I made my way down.

Mum and Dad were seated on one of the huge squashy leather sofas by the fireplace in the front room. Dad grinned cheerfully when I went in.

‘Good news?' I asked as I sat next to Dylan on the sofa opposite.

Dad nodded and glanced at Mum. ‘Do you want to tell them or shall I?'

‘You go ahead,' she said.

Dad gave a brief nod. ‘Well, I've got a job.'

‘Hurray!' whooped Dylan.

‘Fab,' I said.‘Or is it? Is it one you want?'

Dad beamed back at me.‘Oh yes. Couldn't be better. It's with an orchestra. Remember my old friend Robin Beaton?'

Dylan and I nodded. He had been out to see us when we lived in Ireland. He was a pianist with a well known orchestra.

‘He's been unwell,' Dad continued, ‘and he's going to have to have short spell in hospital and of course will need time for recuperation.'

‘Why's he in hospital?' asked Dylan.

‘Small op,' Dad replied.

‘What exactly?' asked Dylan.

‘For prostate cancer,' said Dad.

‘Ah,' said Dylan. ‘Have they got it in time?'

Mum nodded. ‘They think so.'

‘Good,' said Dylan, ‘because that is one of the cancers that they can do a lot for if it's caught early enough. I saw a
programme about it on cable. Tell him he must eat lots of tomatoes.'

Mum and Dad exchanged an amused glance at their son, the health expert.

‘Yes,' said Dad. ‘It is treatable and luckily they think they've got Robin early enough. The bad news is that he had a whole programme of concerts lined up for over the summer and early autumn. Too late to cancel.'

‘He's asked if your father will take his place and fulfil his commitments,' said Mum.

Dylan punched the air. ‘Result,' he said.

‘Brilliant,' I said.

‘I know. Couldn't be better,' said Dad with a huge smile.‘My perfect job, plus I may make connections for the future.'

‘So when do you start?' I asked.

‘Immediately. First concert is next weekend. It will be good money too.'

I was about to get up when Mum coughed. ‘Er India Jane, don't go yet – there's more.'

‘Oh right,' I said as I sat back down. ‘Hey, we can come and see you perform.'

Dad laughed. ‘I doubt that,' he said.

‘Why not?' I asked.

‘The concerts are all over Europe,' Mum explained.

‘Oh,' I said. ‘So you'll be away?'

Mum and Dad nodded. ‘Yes.'

‘And we stay here with Mum?'

Mum glanced at Dad.‘Not exactly. I'm going to go with your father.'

My heart sank. We'd only just got to London and we were going to be off again.‘So when do we leave?' I asked.

‘We? Ah, no. Change of plan all round,' said Dad. ‘But you'll like it.'

‘Your father and I have talked it over,' said Mum,‘and Dylan is going to stay with Ethan for a week.'

‘With Ethan?' asked Dylan. ‘But is there room for me there with the twins?'

Mum nodded.‘The twins are going to go in with Jessica and you will share with Ethan. Only for a week while I go with your father and help him get settled and then you can come out to join us.'

Dylan beamed at this bit of news as he hero-worshipped his elder step-brother and loved spending time with the twins.‘Cool.'

‘Yes,' said Mum. ‘I think it will work out perfectly.'

‘When will we be back?' asked Dylan.

‘At the end of August ready for the new school term,' said Mum. ‘Your dad will be back late October.'

Everyone was looking very happy and pleased with themselves at the news. Except me. I felt like someone had knocked me over.

‘Er . . . what about me?' I asked.

Dad got up as if the meeting was over. He ran his fingers
through his hair, then looked at his watch. ‘You, my darling Cinnamon Girl, you get to go on the holiday of a lifetime.'

Oh God,
I thought as the sinking feeling in my chest grew heavier.
How many times have I heard that before he uproots us all for another country. Oh please, please, don't let it be another country.

‘Where exactly?' I asked.

‘Your mother spoke to Sarah this afternoon . . .'

Phew,
I thought,
so I can stay here with Kate. Wow, that'll be brilliant.
And then I realised that Dad was still talking.

‘. . . yes, you'll love it there. Great experience for you.'

‘Sorry,' I said.‘Can you rewind a sec. Didn't quite catch that last bit.'

‘Greece,' said Dad.

‘Greece?' I asked.

‘Yes,' said Mum.‘We've decided that you can go and stay with your aunt in Greece. She agreed straight away and as we speak is arranging your flight. Isn't that lovely?'

Dad headed towards the door. ‘And so everyone's happy,' he declared. ‘I knew it would all work out.'

‘Nooooooooooooo,' I said.‘I'm not happy. Please Dad. I want to stay here. I don't want to go to Greece.'

Mum and Dad's faces expressed surprise.

‘Why ever not, India Jane?' Dad asked.

‘We've only just got here. I
like
it here and I'd like to stay in
one
place for a while,' I blurted.

Dad burst out laughing and tousled my head in a
really
annoying way. ‘Nonsense,' he said. ‘You'll be fine.' Then he began to sing some Italian opera at the top of his voice. Mum laughed as he left the room and began playing the piano full blast next door. Dylan got up and went to him and, moments later, he could be heard joining in with a tambourine.

‘Sometimes I wish this family would just
shut
up!' I muttered.

Mum chuckled as the din from the next room grew louder. ‘I know what you mean,' she said.

I knew she didn't.

‘It's only to the end of summer and will be a great experience for you,' she said after a few minutes of watching me look gloomily out of the window.

‘And so would staying in London,' I said. ‘Why can't I stay here with Kate?'

‘Out of the question,' said Mum.‘Kate's going to go and stay with her father in Richmond.'

‘Why can't
you
stay here then?' I asked.

‘Your dad wants me with him. I'll only be gone for the summer. It's a big commitment – he's got a lot to learn in a very short time and will need me with him.'

‘I need you with me,' I said. ‘Why can't you and Dad stay here? He'll get a job soon enough.'

‘This is a great chance for him, India,' Mum said. She tried to make me smile by sticking her bottom lip out like I had. I knew I was doing the cliché sulky teenager, but I couldn't help it. And I wasn't going to smile.

‘Some teenagers would see a summer in Greece at a place like Sarah's as the opportunity of a lifetime.'

‘Then let
them
go,' I said.

I folded my arms across my stomach, crossed my legs and tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over on to my cheeks. Not that Mum noticed. She got up and went to join Dad and Dylan and, a moment later, I could hear the three of them singing along in their happy family sing-song. Mum will never get into an argument. Her way of dealing with rows is to walk away.
No one cares what I want,
I thought.
No one ever does.

Outside the light began to fade.
Just like my fantasy of the perfect summer in London,
I thought as I got up to go and kick a wall and then IM Erin the latest.

Fifteen messages back and forth later and Erin and I had agreed that Greece just wasn't an option and, between us, we devised a list of alternatives that Mum and Dad just might buy.

There was hope.

Plan A was my eldest brother Ethan, and I was straight round there the next morning.

‘Please, Ethan. I'll babysit for the rest of the year,' I begged as Eleanor put her breakfast bowl on her head and oat and banana mush dripped down her face, ‘if you let me stay with you.'

Jessica was out at the shops and poor Ethan looked stressed out of his mind as we watched the twins rub their breakfast into their hair. (Lara had taken one look at Eleanor and the mush on her head trick, clearly thought it was an excellent idea and done
the same.) Ethan indicated the overcrowded space he called home.‘I'm so sorry, India J,' he said, ‘it's going to be a push as it is having Dylan for that one week. We just don't have the room. You can see that, can't you?'

Sadly, I could. He, Jessica and the twins lived in a twobedroom terraced house in West Hampstead. Every square inch was jam-packed. Just getting through the hall earlier was a major achievement – I had to step over the twins' double buggy, Ethan's bike, bicycle helmets and economy packs of nappies and baby supplies. Even the living area felt cramped with books, magazines, and more supermarket bulk buys. I could see that there would be no space for me unless I slept under the table.

I didn't push it. Ethan looked like he needed a good night's sleep and I didn't want to put more pressure on him than he already had.

Plan B was Lewis. I called him but his answering machine was on and his mobile switched off. I glanced at my watch. Half past twelve. Knowing Lewis and weekend mornings from when he lived with us, he'd still be in bed.

I caught the tube and a bus up to his studio flat in Crouch End and, true to form, when he finally answered the door after several rings, he looked sleepy-eyed and his wavy dark hair was sticking out all over the place.

On the way upstairs, I quickly filled him in on why I was there but, once we got to the first floor and into the flat, one
sniff of the room that he shared with his mate Chaz told me that I wouldn't last a day there, never mind a week. It stank of old fags, old beer and Indian takeaways. The curtains were still closed and, when I switched the light on, their living area was a mass of overflowing ashtrays, takeaway cartons and empty lager cans.

I washed up for him while he showered and got dressed then I told him my story.

‘Sorry, sis, but no can do,' he said as he donned an old T-shirt from the floor. ‘Anyway, you'll probably have a great time in Greece. Imagine. All that sun, sea. Be fab.'