“Are you two friends, you and Colin?”
“No,” I say firmly.I try to underline my words by raising my chin slightly.“He’s...unfriendly.”
“Hmm.”Dad eyes me.“He’s sure to settle in soon.Did you want to ask anything about his condition?”
“No, I...He told me about it.”I pause.And I spent half the night on the internet looking it up, informing myself.But Dad doesn’t need to know that.
“That’s good.Well, if you want to know anything more, youcan always ask me.The teachers are all aware, Olive.I didn’t tell you because it’s up to Colin who he wants to know about it.Not to keep secrets from you.”
Almost the moment he’s said that last bit, my stomach lurches.“I know, Dad.”And I don’t want to have secrets from you.
He only glances at the door for a second, but I know he needs to go to his next patient.How am I meant to find the guts to tell him I’ve been keeping something so big from him for months?
Mum cheated on you.She had an affair.
Simple phrases.But it’s plain impossible for me to say them when Dad looks back to me again.“Anything else, love?”
Tell him.Do the right thing.
Aye, right.Hurt him.Rip his heart out and make absolutely certain that your family will be smashed up.
“No, I...It’s fine.”Smile.“Thanks, Dad.”
“Love you, kiddo.”
He’s said that all the time since the fire.
“Love you too, Dad.”
My heart feels heavy because I just couldn’t tell him what I wanted to tell him.I just follow Dad out of the treatment room in silence.He heads for the tiny waiting area where there’s a sobbing first-former and her friends.
“So which of you is the unlucky patient?”I hear Dad ask as I leave the sick bay.
Mum would be glad to know I kept my mouth shut.I clench my fists and shut my eyes, then immediately open them wide.
“Olive, hi!”Theresa’s coming this way.“I’ve been looking for you.Have you had a chance to think about the school newspaper?”
I give a deep sigh because that’s the last thing I want to focus on just now.But ever since she asked me at the midnight party, I’ve kept thinking about which members of which teams would be the best to profile in the centenary edition.
“Please say yes,” Theresa begs.“We need you.”
And I need something to do.Something meaningful that will take my mind off things, stop me freaking out day or night about my family or feeling sorry for myself.
“OK,” I say before I quite know that I’ve made up my mind.
“You’ll do it?”Theresa beams.I flinch as she impulsively hugs me.She takes no notice.“I knew we could rely on you.This is going to be way cool, Olive.We’ve got our first editorial meeting at the end of next week.See you there!”
14
Olive
“You’re making great progress, Olive,” says Andrea, the physio I’ve been seeing in Ebrington since I’ve been back at Dunbridge.“Are you noticing the improvement in your everyday life?”
“Yeah, totally,” I say as I pull my jumper back on, because I think that’s what she wants to hear.In reality, I discover at every opportunity just how many things I still can’t do.It’s hard to register the little successes because they don’t feel like success.Just like the bare minimum.Like finally being able to put a top on with a moderate degree of grace and no pain.Just now, after three-quarters of an hour doing physio exercises, it’s not quite as smooth as it is in the mornings, when my shoulder’s rested.But I’m getting through the nights without painkillers now.
“If you keep up this level of progress, we’ll think about whether you can get back to joining in with games at school next month.”
I’m surprised.“Isn’t that too early?”I ask, although I’ve been longing to hear those words.
