Read Online Dear Nobody by Berlie Doherty - Free Book Online Page B

I’ll tell her.’ My hands were shaking as I dipped the plastic stick in the test tube. I sat on my bed and waited. I didn’t care if Mum came into the room and saw me. I lifted out the stick, but I knew before I looked at it what colour it would be. Pink. Positive. Thursday negative. Saturday positive.
    The phone rang. Mum was still singing. She didn’t hear it. I let it ring and ring. It seemed to be a voice from another planet, trying to make contact with Earth. At last Robbie pounded down the stairs and answered it. ‘Helen!’ he shouted up the stairs. ‘It’s for you.’ I didn’t move.
    Robbie put the phone down and went back to his room. He turned on his music, loud, to drown out Mum’s singing. I emptied the test glass down the lavatory and put the plastic tray and spatula and stuff in my drawer. Iwashed my face and brushed my hair, and then I went down to Mum. I was going to tell her.
    Mum looked round at me when I went into the kitchen. She must have been able to tell that I was upset.
    â€˜There you are. I thought you were still asleep. I’m making a pie for tea. D’you fancy making the pastry? Your pastry’s always better than mine.’
    I would tell her everything and she would hold me and stroke me like she did when I was a little girl. She would make me better. She would sticking-plaster my hurts and make them go away. She ought to know. Of all the people in the world she ought to know.
    I fetched flour and lard and butter from the larder and set them out on the work-surface. I was hollow inside. I felt as if I was doing everything in slow motion. Words were lining themselves up like soldiers in my head. Mum stood back to take a top note, lifting herself up on her toes, making fun of herself.
    â€˜You should join a choir, Mum,’ I began. I should have gone straight into it. I was in a trap now. ‘You’ve got a really good voice.’
    â€˜D’you think so? I don’t know how to read music though, that’s my trouble.’
    â€˜Get Dad to teach you.’
    â€˜Ted! He couldn’t teach a frog to leap, that man.’
    Do it! Do it! Get it over with.
    I took a deep breath. ‘Mum,’ I began. ‘I want to tell you something.’
    The music programme on the radio finished and turned into cricket scores. Mum clucked and turned the knob. All the sounds distorted. Robbie burst into the kitchen.
    â€˜Helen, you moron! I was shouting for you for ages. Chris rang up about half an hour ago. He said if you come in he wants to meet you in the park at twelve.’
    â€˜I’m helping Mum,’ I said. I felt like crying. The radio sounds howled and stuttered.
    Mum took the bag of flour from my hand and tipped some onto the scales. ‘Off you go, young lady,’ she said.‘I thought you and Chris had had a row, the way you’ve been behaving. Go and make it up with him.’
    â€˜Mum…’
    â€˜Off you go, Helen.’
    I turned away and then I went back to my mum. I put my arms round her and put my head on her shoulder. She laughed with surprise and tried to ease me away. I wanted her to rock me. I wanted her to hold me tight. I didn’t want to let go.
    â€˜What’s all this about?’ she asked me.
    â€˜Yuk!’ Robbie said.
    Then Mum moved away. ‘This’ll never get the meal cooked,’ she said. ‘Off you go. Don’t keep the young man waiting.’
    Chris was sitting on a small wooden roundabout in the kiddies’ playground, letting his heels drag as it revolved. He had his head bent and didn’t see me as I went up to him, so the roundabout had to do another revolution before it came back to me again. It gave me time to think my script out.
    â€˜Chris!’ I said.
    He jumped off at once. ‘Don’t talk,’ he said. ‘Let me just hold you. I’ve missed you. It’s been days and days.’
    â€˜I wanted to talk to my