Girls in Tears Read online

  Oh God, it was all his idea to invite her to the party. Maybe this was exactly what he was hoping for. And I played into his hands by getting drunk. I'm still drunk now, stumbling along in the dark. I have no clear idea where I'm going. I have no ideas at all. I'm just shrieking inside with the shock of it. I can't keep it all inside. I'm making little moaning noises. A woman walking her dog looks at me strangely under the lamplight and asks if I'm all right. I say yes, even though the tears are pouring down my face and it's obvious my heart is breaking.

  I thought Russell truly loved me. I thought he wanted me, not Magda. He gave me the ring. The stupid childish freebie ring. I feel for it and yank it off, clumsily, hurting my finger. I throw it with all my strength so that it flies right across the road and disappears into the darkness.

  I wish I could disappear too. I can't bear being me. I can't stand it that nothing's worked out for me. Everything's gone wrong. I haven't got anything to cling onto any more. Even Dad doesn't care about me now. He seems all set to walk out on Anna and Eggs and me. I can't feel good about my Art any more because I'm not original. I haven't got Russell any more. He can't ever have loved me properly or he wouldn't have betrayed me. And worse worse worst of all, I haven't got my girlfriends any more. Nadine's gone off me anyway and Magda . . . Oh, Magda Magda Magda, how could you?

  I'm sobbing so much I can't see. I'm in the middle of town now and I keep barging into people and they say stuff but I take no notice. I bolt away from all of them, out into the road. A car brakes and someone screams, 'What are you trying to do, kill yourself?'

  I cry harder and someone else says, 'Stupid kid.'

  'You think you've got troubles, darling – well, you don't know you're born.' This sad smelly vagrant lurches against me, his dog nipping at my ankles.

  I cry harder, trying to push the dog's head away. Then suddenly someone has me firmly by the arm and is telling the vagrant to push off and take his flea-bitten dog with him.

  I know this voice. I open my eyes. There's my Mr Wonderful Dream Man, his arm round me, looking concerned.

  'It's my little schoolgirl!' he says, astonished.

  'Your schoolgirl?' one of his pals says, laughing.

  'The silly little kid's drunk,' another friend says. 'Leave her alone, Kev, she's trouble.'

  I can't believe someone as wonderful as him can possibly be called Kevin. But he is, and he is wonderful too. He leaves all his friends to go off clubbing without him and finds a taxi and insists on taking me all the way home. I cry that I don't think I've got enough money on me. He insists he's got loads. So then I cry because he's being so kind. He says it's fun acting like Prince Charming, helping damsels in distress. I cry because he's been my Mr Wonderful Prince Charming ever since I started in Year Nine. He gently tells me that he's very flattered, but actually he's gay. I cry because I know that, and up until today I didn't mind too much because I had my own boyfriend, but now I've found him at this party kissing my best friend.

  He puts his arms right round me and strokes my still damp hair and tells me that there's no cure for this one. It's going to hurt like hell for a long time but if it's any consolation nearly everyone has to go through this when they're fourteen or fifteen. I'm just a tiny bit thrilled because I'm still only thirteen and he must think I look a little older and, gay or straight, it's fantastic to have a really handsome guy with his arms round me, stroking my hair. But then I think about Magda and Russell and I start sobbing again and I sob and sob until we get home.

  He tells the taxi to wait and then he helps me up the drive and knocks on the door. Dad comes out in his dressing gown and stares at me in alarm. I think he's going to start blaming my Mr Dream Man for my condition so I start burbling about his coming to my rescue. Mercifully Dad cottons on and thanks him and then Mr Dream Man (I can't call him Kev) kisses me on the forehead and says he'll look out for me and that he hopes I'll feel better soon.

  It's so sweet of him – though I'll never ever feel better. Nothing in this whole world can ever make me feel happy again.

  When I'm indoors Dad begs me to tell him exactly what's happened. I can't bear to talk about it but Dad won't quit asking me stuff. Anna comes downstairs and I just have to whisper three words – Russell and Magda. She puts her arms round me and rocks me as if I'm as young as Eggs.

  'Poor little Ellie,' Dad says, patting my shoulders. 'Still, Russell's not the only boy in the world. I've actually always thought he's a bit of a pompous git, but there you go—'

  'Shut up,' says Anna fiercely. 'It's not just the Russell thing. It's because it's Russell and Magda.'

  Russell and Magda, Russell and Magda, Russell and Magda. Will he start going out with Magda now? Will he meet her after school? Will he take her on our special walks and do all our special things? Will he give Magda a ring too?

  I go over it endlessly after Anna puts me to bed. I'm back at the party, stumbling towards the stairs, and then I see them together, Russell and Magda, rewinding throughout the night. . .

  The phone rings and I sit up in bed, my heart thumping. I hear Dad's voice sleepily answering. Then he sounds angry. 'Yes, she has got home safely, no thanks to you. No, you can't talk to her. It's the middle of the night. She's fast asleep and I'm certainly not disturbing her. Goodnight.'

  I start crying again, my hands over my mouth and nose to muffle it. I hope Dad thinks I'm really asleep, but a minute later I hear footsteps.

  There's a whisper outside my door. 'Ellie? Ellie, are you still awake? Can I come in?'

  I don't answer but Dad comes in anyway. I'm crying too much to protest.

  'Oh, darling.' Dad sits on the end of my bed and scoops me up in a big bear hug. Even though he's been so mean recently I can't help hugging him back.

  'Oh, Dad, I'm so unhappy,' I sob.

  'I know, Ellie, I know.' Dad holds me tight.

  'You don't know, Dad. It hurts so.'

  'I do know. I hurt too,' says Dad.

  It's as if we're back in the past and Mum's just died and all we can do is cling together for comfort.

  'Was that Russell on the phone?'

  'Yes. Anna says I should have asked you if you wanted to speak to him.'

  'No, I didn't!'

  'That's what I thought. But maybe I should have asked. I don't seem to know how to get on with you nowadays, Ellie.'

  'Or with Anna.'

  Dad stiffens, but I feel him nod, his beard brushing against my forehead. 'Or Anna,' he repeats.

  'Dad, you and Anna – you're not breaking up, are you?' I whisper against his chest.

  'No! No, of course not. Why, Anna hasn't said we are, has she?'

  'No, but you both get at each other all the time and you keep staying out late.'

  'Yes, well, Anna and I will sort things out, don't worry,' Dad says gruffly.

  'Dad, when you stay out late—?'

  'Look, Ellie, never you mind about me. Let's think about you. I feel very very sorry for you, but I'm cross too, because you've obviously been drinking quite a lot. I don't really mind if you try half a lager or a few sips of wine, but surely you must realize it's crazy to start on spirits. You could make yourself really ill, even end up in hospital. . .'

  Dad drones on and on while I sob weakly. What do I care about drink? I'm never going to a party ever again. I'm not going to go anywhere. Oh God, what am I going to do about school? How can I ever bear to see Magda again?

  She phones the next morning. Dad answers and says I'm still asleep. Magda phones again after lunch. Anna answers this time and eventually says, 'Ellie doesn't want to talk to you just now, Magda.'

  Magda doesn't seem to get the message. There's a knock on the front door just as we're sitting down to tea. It's Magda's special knock, three long raps and then two quick ones, like a little fanfare announcing her arrival.

  I groan and get up. 'Anna, it's Magda. Please, tell her to go away!

  'Don't you think it might be a good idea to talk things through with her?' Dad suggests. 'Maybe you