Forever Blue Page 8

  There was also one from Dad with an attachment of a photograph from the scan of the baby. Its face looked like an alien. The skeleton of its frame glowed white against the black and grey smudges. I could make out the features on his face, and his hand was pulled up to his mouth as if he were sucking his thumb. Next month, another life would come into this world and be connected to me in a way I had never truly experienced before. I would have a brother, well, half-brother.

  It was after one in the morning before I turned off the computer. There was no knock on my window that night.

  Once again my sleep was invaded with dreams. The panicked feeling I had when Judah kissed me no longer felt like a nightmare. Instead, I welcomed him, eager to drown in his kiss. It still hurt. It still overwhelmed me, but I was no longer scared. I knew it was a dream I could wake from.

  Mum always slept in on Sundays, sometimes choosing to stay in bed until lunchtime, when she would drag herself out, eyes still weary with sleep and do yoga on the lounge floor dressed in brightly coloured lycra. So by the time I got out of bed, I expected to creep down the hall and be greeted with a lime green lycra-wrapped butt, or Mum's face, red like her hair, dangling upside down and smiling serenely. So I was surprised to be greeted by a chirpy, "Morning!"

  Through the arch into the lounge, I could see Mum on the couch with her feet tucked under her, a blanket wrapped around her legs and a hot cup of coffee in her hands. The TV was on, and the newspaper was spread out. Her hair was in rollers. Grams was in the kitchen, scowling at an unlit cigarette in her fingers and a cup of tea in her hand. I lifted my brows, but she just scowled harder. Mum must have collected her earlier.

  "What are you doing up this time of day on a Sunday?" I asked Mum, as I walked over and kissed Grams on the cheek before leaning against the frame of the arch, crossing my arms.

  Her eyes sparkled. "Oh, just getting ready for a lunch date."

  "You have a date?" I couldn't help the surprise that knocked my voice up a few notes.

  "Don't look so shocked. I'm a single woman. I'm allowed."

  "I just didn't think—never mind." I walked over, picked up the paper and plonked myself down on the couch beside her. "Who's the lucky fellow?"

  "A widower that Debbie set up. She thought it was about time I got out into the world." She lifted her hand and started counting off on her fingers. "His name is Flynn Armistead. He does something to do with cars, fixes them or sells them, or maybe he paints them. Wouldn't that be wonderful? A painter, like me. And he's very sweet, according to Debbie." Mum shook her head slowly. "Debbie said his wife died and she thought it would be a great first start for both of us." She looked at me with a faint smile playing on her lips. "Anything else you want to know?"

  I wasn't sure what to make of the news. The thought of my mum dating had never entered my mind before. It seemed too strange to even consider. Then a dreadful thought occurred to me. "Does he have any children?" I silently hoped she said no. Getting a baby brother was one thing, having to hang out with potential step-siblings while our parents dated was another.

  "Oh, that's where things get even worse." Mum turned, scooting closer to me on the couch. "His youngest daughter died. The poor man's had a lot of sadness in his life." Mum nodded solemnly. "But he has another daughter around your age. You probably know her from school, Cara?"

  My heart dropped. The one girl who took an instant dislike to me when I started school. I think it was only because I was friends with Sienna, but in her mind that immediately put me in the dislike pile. Cara and Sienna had dated the same guy. It happened ages ago. It was for something like two weeks, and Sienna only ever got with him to make Ross jealous, but nonetheless, Cara and Sienna had become mortal enemies.

  "Yeah, I know her." I sighed.

  "Don't you like her? I would have thought you had a bit in common because, well—" Mum left it unspoken, but I knew what she meant.

  "Because we both had siblings who died?" I shouldn't have said it so bluntly. Immediately, tears welled in Mum's eyes and she looked away. I reached across and placed my hand on her knee. "Sorry, Mum."

  Grams got up from the table and walked into the room, the unlit cigarette now hanging limply out the corner of her mouth. "Having dead siblings doesn't instantly bond teenage girls, especially in high school." Her words were mumbled by the cigarette, though somehow it managed to stay in place while she talked, stuck to her bottom lip.

  "Well, you probably won't have to have anything more to do with her than you already do. We are just going on a lunch date." Mum put her hands up to her hair and patted the rollers, somehow offended by Grams' words. "I think these are ready to come out. Be back in a minute."

  Grams glared at me.

  "What?" I said.

  She played with the cigarette, jiggling it up and down.

  "What?" I was impatient and slightly unnerved by her stare.

  "You missed Wednesday." Grams' voice was croaky and she coughed, detaching the cigarette from her lip and putting it in her pocket.

  I thought back to Wednesday and realised I spent the afternoon with Judah, forgetting all about my mid-weekly catch up with Grams. "Nope. It happened," I replied. "I remember Wednesday."

  Grams scowled. "You know what I mean."

  "I just forgot. Sorry."

  "Well, you should be. I'm not going to be around forever, you know." Grams followed me back into the kitchen.

  "Nothing can bring you down, Grams. You'll probably still be here, huffing away on those awful things long after Mum and I are gone."

  Grams didn't smile at my teasing. "Why did you forget? It's not like you."

  I shrugged and ripped off a piece of bread. It was stale and I opened the window to throw it outside for the birds. "I've been a little tired. Bad dreams."

  Grams reached into her pocket and pulled the cigarette out again. She placed herself down at the kitchen table, near the open window, and lit it, inhaling deeply and letting the smoke out in a steady stream. It gathered and swirled, then slipped out the open crack and joined the mist that hung in the air. "Well, I came to you today. Flick the kettle on and get the teapot. And you owe me a bottle of gin."

  Only minutes later, before the tea had steeped, Mum floated out of the bathroom, dipping her finger into an empty lipstick tube and rubbing the almost non-existent contents on her lips. She sniffed the air, scowled at Grams, and then twirled in front of me. "How do I look?"

  "Isn't it time you bought a new lipstick?" I asked.

  Mum frowned, twisted the tube back—even though it was unneeded— and placed the lid back on. "I like this one and they don't make it anymore."

  A car rumbled up the driveway and I looked out to see an old, immaculately kept, pink and green vehicle with winged sides, roll to a stop. In small silver print down the bottom of the door, it read, 'The Auto Shop, Stone's Throw Road, Puruwai.'

  I read it again. It was the name of the place Judah worked. Surely the universe was trying to tell me something. Without worrying that I was still in my dressing gown, I bounded to the door.

  "Hello." The man extended his hand. He was short, with scruffy blond hair greying at the temples, and the creases in his hand were stained black. In one hand, he held a bunch of slightly wilted daisies, the ones wrapped in clear cellophane and purchased from the local supermarket.

  "You must be Lennon. I'm Flynn Armistead." He shook my hand firmly.

  "Yes. Hi Mr Armistead. Come in."

  He wiped his feet vigorously on the mat. "Please, call me Flynn."

  I ushered him inside where Mum stood waiting, beaming a smile so wide it nearly swallowed her face.

  "Shelley, I believe?" He held the flowers out. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

  "Why thank you." Mum blushed and took the flowers, sticking her nose into the bouquet and sniffing deeply.

  Mr Armistead cleared his throat and wiped his hands down the front of his creased pants. "Shall we get going?"

  Mum looked around for her purse then followed hi
m towards the door which I opened and held wide.

  "Does Judah Mitchell work for you?" I asked quietly.

  Mum lifted her eyebrows but looked to Flynn for the answer.

  "Yes, he does. Hard worker, good kid. Why do you ask?"

  "He mentioned he worked for an auto yard. I just figured there couldn't be too many in Puruwai."

  "One and only." Flynn beamed.

  They stood looking at me while I held the door open, waiting for me to say more. "Well, have a great time."

  "Wish me luck," Mum mouthed as she walked past. Flynn held the car door open and she slid into the passenger's seat while I waved goodbye before plonking myself down at the table.

  Grams poured the tea. "He seems nice enough," she grunted, watching the car slowly idle down the driveway.

  "Can't tell much at this stage," I said, not as keen to accept the new situation.

  Grams tutted and shook her head. The wrinkles around her eyes deepened. "What sort of dreams have you been having?"

  I didn't want to tell Grams what sort of dreams. "Just dreams."

  "You don't normally lie to me, Lennon."

  I dipped my head and took a sip of tea. "I'm not." Another lie.

  Grams grimaced and brought the cup to her lips, the grooves around her mouth growing as she pursed. They were deep, having spent too much time attached to the butt of a cigarette. She didn't say any more, but she watched me as I drank and I squirmed in my seat. I had never lied to Grams before, I didn't need to, but I wanted to keep Judah's and my fantasy dream dates a secret. Surprisingly, Grams didn't ask any more questions. Instead, she threw her cigarette out the window and took her cup of tea outside to sit and look over our non-existent garden.

  I read, curled up on the couch until the low rumble of Flynn's car pulled up the drive. Peeking out the window, I saw him give Mum a peck on the cheek. The date must have gone well. Mum flew through the door and leaned against it, a wide smile on her lips.

  Grams appeared. "It went well, I take it?"

  Mum lifted herself from her leaning post, practically glided across the floor and sat down with a contented sigh. "He took me to that new cafe. It's a gorgeous place, such cute decorations and the food was simply superb."

  I smiled suggestively and wriggled my eyebrows. "And Flynn?"

  Mum blushed. "He was wonderful. Kind and thoughtful, interested in all I had to say, not at all like your father."

  "So another date is on the cards?" I prompted.

  "He's going to take me out Friday night. I have no idea what I'll wear. Maybe I'll go and check out my wardrobe now, just to be prepared."

  Chapter Twelve

  Lennon

  Elmo struggled to start and I was late to class. Mr Watson gave me a cold glare as I walked in, out of breath, and took my seat next to Sienna. But for all his stern looks, Mr Watson was still my favourite teacher. You always knew what to expect in his class. If you were late, you were sure to get 'the glare', but he rarely punished anyone further than that. He had developed a reputation around school as the grumpiest of the teachers, but I think that had to do more with his appearance than anything else; knitted vests, tightly buttoned shirts and wire-rimmed glasses.

  "You're late," Sienna leaned over and whispered.

  "Elmo." No further explanation needed.

  She laughed, only to be rewarded by another glare over the glasses of Mr Watson.

  It was lunch time before we got to talk properly. Sienna gripped my arm as we sat at the cafeteria table. "He called me twice."

  I pulled my peanut butter sandwich out of my lunch box. "What did he say?"

  Sienna's eyes flew open. "I didn't answer," she said, surprised. "It might give him the wrong idea."

  "The idea that you actually like him?"

  Sienna nodded. "Exactly."

  I sighed and filled her in on the weekend and Mum's date.

  "So your mum is dating Cara's dad?" Her eyebrows bent disapprovingly.

  "She really seems to like him."

  "His wife only died a few months ago."

  I shrugged. "I don't care as long as he makes Mum happy."

  "But imagine if they get married. You and Cara would be step-sisters."

  "Let's not go there."

  Sienna looked over the tables and jerked her head. "Speak of the devil."

  Cara entered the cafeteria, walking confidently, a smile nowhere in sight. She wasn't the prettiest of girls, not in the way Sienna was pretty, but she wandered around the school with a certain swagger that you couldn't help but notice. She saw me and waved.

  "Oh great." Sienna groaned. "Now you two are best friends. Kill me now."

  "Hey, Lennon." Cara smiled, but it dropped when she cast her eyes over Sienna.

  "Cara, what brings you over to this side of the cafeteria?" Sienna's voice dripped with mock sweetness.

  Cara ignored her. "So, your mum and my dad?" she said.

  "Seems so." I shrugged and tried not to smile at the over exaggeration of Sienna's eye roll.

  "We must get together sometime. You know, if our parents are going to be spending time together, we may as well get to know each other too. With you being new and all, I bet you could do with someone to show you around. You might even make a few friends." She smirked.

  I laughed nervously. "Why not?" Sienna kicked me under the table. "Sometime, maybe," I added.

  Cara walked away, and Sienna looked at me, exasperated. "Sure!" she mimicked. "Why not?" She tossed her hair over her shoulder and batted her eyelids. "I'd love to, Cara." She put her finger in her mouth and made a retching sound.

  I laughed. "What did you want me to say? I can't very well ignore my future step-sister, can I?

  "You're an idiot."

  "Not denying it."

  "Speaking of being a complete idiot, have you stopped your fascination with Judah Mitchell?"

  I picked a little piece off my sandwich and nibbled on it.

  "Stop ignoring the question. Just tell me you're going to stay away from him."

  "Maybe."

  Sienna frowned and knocked the sandwich out of my hands. "I'm serious, Len. He killed someone."

  "Allegedly. The police never charged him. Innocent until proven guilty, isn't it?"

  "He was never proven innocent, either. Ask anyone in school, heck, ask Cara, she'll tell you. There was something strange going on with the three of them. It was like this three-way love triangle thing." She shuddered. "Gross. I don't know what Ruben ever saw in her. Ross hates her, says she's stuck-up."

  "Do I detect a little jealousy?" I teased.

  "Ruben and I only got together a few times, but that was before Cara got kicked out of boarding school, but here's the kicker." Sienna turned, her eyes twinkling with the deliciousness of the gossip she was about to share. "The girl Judah killed was Cara's little sister."

  I rolled my eyes. "Now you're just making things up."

  "Nope. You were there," she said.

  "I think I'd remember something like that. When?"

  "Last year, at Guy Fawkes Night down by the lake. Don't you remember? I wore the angel costume. Afterwards, Debs was in full-on gossip mode, calling everyone and telling them about the accident."

  I frowned, trying to remember. Mum and I had come up but it had been postponed due to bad weather. We stayed an extra night, and Mum and Aunt Deb sat on the deck, drunk wine, and complained about Dad, while Sienna and I went to watch fireworks that never happened down by the lake. I didn't remember anything about an accident, though. "Vaguely," I said.

  "Well, that was the night Cara's little sister died. And not long after, Judah's car got deliberately driven over a cliff." She raised her eyebrows. "You tell me he's not to blame."

  "Hardly seems like evidence to me. And if people are so convinced he is guilty, why isn't he locked up?"

  "The police couldn't prove anything. They can't prove which brother was driving the car, either time, or even if it was Judah's car that hit her. Everyone knows it was, though. R
oss said that Ruben said as much, you know, before he got killed." She emphasised the last word pointedly.

  "Do you think you might be exaggerating a little?" I offered, somewhat pathetically.

  "The police arrested him, Len. They don't arrest innocent people. And he had already lost his licence for drunk driving." Sienna patted me on the back patronisingly. I wanted to point out that if the police arrested him, it obviously didn't stick, but Sienna was already talking again. "But seriously, don't get involved with him. Don't be sucked in just because he's the first boy to show any interest in you. He'll be all sweet at the start, and you'll be like, 'Oh, Judah,' and then he'll invite you somewhere, and everyone will see you with him, and then they'll be like, 'Why is she with him?' because no one likes him, and then no one will like you, and you'll become little-Lennon-no-friends, but you won't care, because you'll be all like, 'Oh, Judah'. And then one day someone will be walking along the lake and your body will wash up on the shore. Dead. Dead-dead, as in killed dead, and everyone will struggle to remember who you even were because you spent all your time with Judah, and your mum will be so devastated she'll have to move in with us, and then I'll have to share my room with my turd of a brother, and my life will be over." She drew in a deep breath.

  "Won't my mum just move into the spare room?" I teased, used to Sienna's dramatic rants.

  She just groaned.

  For the rest of the day, my mind was a mess. I tried to dismiss what Sienna had said, not the rambling story about me winding up dead all because I fell for Judah, but the part where she thought he was responsible for two deaths. It was probably just a vicious rumour. It happened a lot. Someone would say something about someone else, and before you knew it, the rumour was floating around as fact. I needed to find out the truth. I needed to know what really happened. I owed him that. Or, I owed myself that so I could stop obsessing over him if it were true. The problem was, I didn't want to believe it.

  When the bell for school end sounded, I found Cara and grabbed her arm. "Is it true about Judah Mitchell?" I waited for her answer, silently begging her to say no.