Casting Shadows
After dinner, Flynn drew me to one side saying he had something to show me.
‘What is it?’ I asked as we went up to our room. ‘Are you sure you liked the boots?’ I’d been a bit anxious about them all week. They weren’t the most romantic present.
‘The boots are awesome, Riv,’ Flynn reassured me. ‘Come here.’
He led me over to the chest of drawers, opened the middle drawer where he kept his clothes and drew out a loop of thin leather cord. A tiny blue ‘R’ dangled from the end. It was the one from the broken chain, that Grace had given me years ago just after we started at Langton.
‘I took it to be mended but it needed a whole new chain so I got this leather thong instead. It totally matches the “R”, look.’ Flynn held the necklace up so I could see the thread of blue that ran through the black leather. ‘What do you think?’
I nodded. ‘It’s great but . . . but it’s your birthday, you shouldn’t be giving me presents.’
Flynn grinned. ‘Who says?’ He offered me the necklace. ‘I think this leather looks awesome.’
I stared at him. ‘Then you should wear it,’ I said. I held up the bracelet he’d given me earlier in the year. ‘You gave me this, I’m giving you that.’
‘Really?’ Flynn’s eyes widened. ‘Excellent.’ He put the leather around his neck then tucked the ‘R’ down his shirt. ‘Now you’ll always be with me, see?’ he said, making a silly face.
I grinned back. In the distance a firework exploded. There’d been quite a few going off recently late at night, people getting ready for Bonfire Night in a few weeks’ time.
‘Hey, let’s have a party!’ I said, suddenly consumed with excitement. ‘For both our birthdays.’
Flynn frowned. ‘What here? In the commune?’
‘Yes.’ I nodded eagerly. ‘We can invite everyone from college and all our friends from our old schools.’
‘I don’t have any friends from St Cletus’s,’ Flynn said.
‘What about James?’ I said.
‘Okay but . . .’ Flynn looked out of the window as another distant firework exploded in the sky. ‘Hey, d’you think your dad would let us build a bonfire?’ He looked excited.
‘For the party? I guess he might,’ I said, confused by why Flynn seemed so thrilled. ‘I was thinking we could have the party in the barn. Dad wants it cleared out anyway, and there’s loads of room. Maybe we could borrow a sound system or-’
‘That’s a brilliant idea.’ Flynn gave me a hug. ‘Let’s go and ask them now.’
We tore downstairs. Dad and Gemma were sipping cups of peppermint tea and charting with Ros and John in the kitchen. It took a few minutes to persuade them that we should have the party. Flynn was great at batting away all the objections the adults raised: there wouldn’t be any mess or any damage because we’d stay in the barn; we’d move the sheep to the top field and make sure no one went anywhere near them – or beyond, to the hens and the vegetable patch; and he’d set up a rota of people to guard the bonfire all evening.
‘Please, Dad?’ I asked, squeezing my hands together. ‘I haven’t had a party for years and Flynn’s never had one and it’s his eighteenth.’
Dad fetched the other residents: John’s wife, Julia, the IT guy and Leo’s dad. They had a small conference while Flynn and I waited anxiously outside. After about ten minutes, Dad emerged to say they’d all agreed, provided we agreed to their ground rules about drink and drugs and to oversee everything in a sensible and responsible way.
Flynn and I were ecstatic. We decided to hold the party at the end of the month, on the last Saturday of half-term. I pointed out to Flynn that this was also the date of our one-year anniversary. It seemed like a good omen and soon preparations were in full swing. I was in charge of invitations and soon had promises from almost everyone I asked at college and my old school that they were definitely going to be there. Gemma offered to cook a bit of vegetarian food, while Flynn talked to James about sourcing a sound system. Dad even said we could let our guests bring small amounts of cider. I grinned, wondering how he expected me to stop people bringing alcohol. It struck me that not having lived with me and Stone for so many years, Dad had missed out on a lot. Cider, indeed. I hoped the party could be outside as much as possible, where he’d be less likely to catch the inevitable flash of vodka bottles or smell the spliff.
Soon the only thing Flynn and I had left to do was clear out the barn. I was eager to get started but first I had to visit Mum. I caught the train to London straight after college ended for half-term, wishing I was still at the commune. I did want to see Mum, of course, but my head and my heart were in the place I’d left.
Mum picked me up from the station. She was cheerful and chatty as she drove me home. It was nice, actually, to sit in the kitchen and talk to her while she cooked tea and we waited for Stone to get back from football practice. When Mum told me he’d got a girlfriend I nearly fainted. How the hell had grumpy, smelly Stone managed to convince anyone to go out with him?
‘Is she blind?’ I asked.
‘No.’ Mum pursed her lips. ‘Her name’s Anna, and she’s actually rather pretty. And very polite.’
I knew this was a dig at Flynn and my heart sank. Why did Mum have to make snide remarks when we were having such a nice time? I flushed, feeling annoyed, but before I could say anything, Stone himself walked in.
My mouth fell open. He’d been coming to the commune less and less over the summer and I’d hardly seen him at all since term started but I still wasn’t prepared for the transformation before me. Gone was my slouchy, spotty little brother. In his place was a tall, clear-skinned boy with freshly washed hair that had been carefully gelled back off his scrubbed clean face.
‘Hi,’ he said.
‘Hi.’ I was so shocked that I ended up inviting him to the party next week. ‘And you can bring your girlfriend,’ I said, ‘if she hasn’t dumped you by then.’
Anna turned up about half an hour later. Mum insisted she came into the kitchen to meet me. Again, I was surprised. I’d kind of expected an ordinary-looking girl, probably fairly immature. But Anna was, like Mum had said, rather pretty, with strawberry-blonde hair, a soft, round face and sparkling brown eyes. She sat and charted with me and Mum for about ten minutes until Stone loped in. Then she blushed as he came over and put his arm round her.
‘Let’s go,’ he said.
Anna looked up at him shyly. Oh my goodness. She was totally into him.
My mouth fell open as Anna got up from the table and said, ultra-politely, how nice it had been to meet me.
‘How old is she?’ I said, as soon as they’d left the room.
Almost fifteen, like him,’ Mum smiled. ‘Nice, isn’t she? Straightforward.’
This was a dig at Flynn and me. But this time I didn’t feel like flying off the handle. Who cared what Mum thought? I had Dad and my friends. And Flynn.
I went around to Emmi’s later. We sat in her bedroom with Grace, eating biscuits. Emmi was intrigued to hear about Stone’s transformation.
‘So would you say he was cute now, Riv?’
I screwed up my face. ‘Ew, Emmi, I don’t know. He’s my brother.’
Emmi laughed, then told me she’d dumped Jean-Luc. ‘He was so full of himself,’ she explained. ‘So demanding.’
‘Sounds like you were made for each other,’ I said with a grin.
Emmi rolled her eyes and threw a biscuit at me. ‘Well, you can talk,’ she smirked. ‘Look at you and Flynn.’
I laughed and we chatted on. Emmi and Grace were full of tales about the boys they’d met recently: new friends of James and others. It all seemed a bit over the top to me but then they still went to a girls’ school while I’d just spent nearly two months in a sixth form college where boys were an everyday fact of life.
Emmi and Grace went on for ages about people I didn’t know and I started to feel a bit left out. I guess it showed in my face because, after a while, Grace squeezed my arm and said: It’s not the same
as being with you, though.’
‘Yeah, girl. We miss you.’ Emmi grinned. ‘And there’s a new guy we’ve met who’d be perfect for you.’
I stared at her. ‘I already have a boyfriend, remember?’
Emmi shrugged and got up to go to the bathroom.
I watched her sashay out of the room, feeling mildly irritated.
‘Why does she wind me up like that?’ I said, chomping into a biscuit.
Grace shook her head. ‘Cos she can?’ she said. ‘You wind her up just as much.’
That was true. I sighed, telling myself I shouldn’t rise to Emmi’s bait. She and I had always bantered with each other and she never meant any harm by it. Emmi just enjoyed saying things for effect.
‘How’s James?’ I asked.
Grace’s face lit up. ‘He’s good. We got together a year ago last week, you know.’
I nodded, remembering the party where that had happened, just a short while before Flynn and I started going out. I had thought Flynn didn’t like me and drank so much I was sick. I could remember as clearly as if it had happened yesterday how Flynn had looked after me. How we’d stood outside and he’d rubbed my arms to keep them warm, then slid his fingers down my cheek and . . .
‘River?’ Grace grinned. ‘I said, how’s Flynn?’
‘Okay Better than.’ I paused. ‘I’m glad he and James still see each other.’
We talked for a while about the party. Grace and Emmi said they were sure loads of my old friends from Langton would be there. James, who had just had his own eighteenth birthday, had been given a car and was planning to drive Grace and Emmi to the commune. Emmi thought this was very cool, of course, but I could tell Grace was a bit nervous. She told us that James was under strict instructions from his parents not to drink at the party. Emmi rolled her eyes at that but Grace thought it was a good idea and was planning to limit her own intake to support him.
We charted on; it was a laugh and I was in a good mood at the end of the evening when I went back to Mum’s. She and I hung out together most of the following day. She took me shopping and we bought some new clothes – a couple of casual things for college and a new dress I was planning to wear to the party.
I headed home on Sunday morning, eager to see Flynn. I knew – from the commune rota – that he was due to work in the orchard that day. Dad and Gemma were out, so I caught the bus from the station. As soon as I arrived at the commune, I raced down to the orchard. It was chilly, just starting to rain. There was no sign of Flynn though his work, which involved raking the leaves in the orchard into huge, netted piles, had clearly been done.
I rushed inside and tore up to our flat. Flynn wasn’t there. I wandered back downstairs. I’d seen Ros and Leo out by the hens. I’d go and ask them if they knew where he was. As I passed the living room, I heard the dull thud of a bass beat, the sound you get through headphones. I peered around the door.
Flynn was sitting at the table in the corner, papers spread out on the desk in front of him, his earphones clamped to his head. I crept up behind him, intending to surprise him with a kiss.
I peered over his shoulder to see what he was doing.
I froze.
University entrance papers.
We hadn’t talked about where Flynn might go to uni since the summer holidays. I knew James was planning on staying in London to be near Grace. Please let Flynn want to do the same thing.
Flynn must have sensed me standing there, because he turned round. He tugged the earphones off his head and grinned. ‘Hey, Riv.’
I was still staring at the forms on the table. ‘What are you doing?’ I said.
Flynn frowned. ‘Just getting started on these,’ he said. ‘I have to apply soon. Mr Shukla made me do the Oxford one at school already.’
‘Oxford?’ My mouth felt dry. ‘Where else are you applying?’
Flynn ran his hand through his hair. ‘Dunno yet,’ he said. ‘I’ve got to check out the other courses but Oxford would be best. Or Cambridge but you can’t apply to both at once, so . . .’
My eyes widened. I looked up at Flynn, an icy chill settling on my heart. ‘Oxford?’ I whispered. ‘Cambridge?’
Flynn shrugged, misunderstanding me. ‘I know it sounds mad but Mr Shukla thinks I could get in.’
I struggled with the feelings battling inside me. On the one hand, it was fantastic that Flynn was thinking about uni – and I was as sure as Mr Shukla that if he wanted to go to Oxford or Cambridge then he would certainly be offered a place. On the other . . .
‘Oxford and Cambridge are so far away.’ The words slipped out of me before I could stop them.
‘Not really.’ Flynn slid his arm around my waist. ‘You could still visit. I could still come back and be with you.’
I nodded. ‘Or you could study in London. There are loads of places to do law there and it would be much easier for us to see each other.’
‘That’s true,’ Flynn acknowledged. ‘But I want to go to the best place there is. Get the best degree I can. Everyone I’ve talked to says that the fastest way to earn loads of money in law is to get a degree from Oxford or Cambridge and then—’
‘Money?’ My eyes welled with tears. I’d heard his reasons for wanting to be a lawyer before. ‘Is that all that matters to you?’
‘No.’ Flynn frowned at me. ‘Don’t get upset, Riv. Please. This is about respect and doing the best I can for myself. For my mum.’ He squeezed my waist. ‘For you.’
‘Sure.’ I knew I was being selfish but I couldn’t help it. ‘I’ll see you later,’ I said and left the room, tears blurring my vision.
16
I headed for the stairs, intending to rush up to the privacy of my bedroom. Then I remembered it was Flynn’s room too. He could follow me up there at any point and, right now, I wanted to be alone, to sort through how I felt.
It suddenly struck me that, for the first time in my life, I had no room of my own. No place where I could be completely private. I veered away from the stairs and raced out the back door. I ran across the field, past the sheep towards the barn which Flynn and I were due to spend the next couple of days clearing out. Tears streamed down my face. I didn’t really understand why I was so upset – after all, nothing bad had actually happened.
At last I reached the barn. It was an old building with a high ceiling and a loft that jutted out over the floor. Once, Dad had told me, it had been a hay barn but for the past ten years the residents of the commune had used it as a general dumping ground. The most accessible areas of the ground floor were still used to store farm equipment and tinned food but most of the rest of the dusty floor was covered with junk. I raced past the old paint tins, rusting hoes and scraps of wire netting and hauled myself up the ladder and onto the loft platform. I curled up beside a pile of broken chairs. It was still light outside but my corner was dark and draughty. I buried my head in my arms and wailed.
In my heart I knew it wouldn’t be the end of the world if Flynn went away to uni next year but it felt like we’d only just settled into life on the commune – and I couldn’t bear the thought of it being disrupted again. I cried for a few more minutes, then lay, sniffing, my arms wrapped around my chest.
After about half an hour, I was stiff and cold. I sat up, wiping my eyes and thinking about going back inside.
‘River?’ Gemma’s voice echoed around the barn. Footsteps sounded below me.
‘River, are you in here?’ That was Ros.
I crawled out from behind the broken chairs and peered down. Ros saw me immediately. ‘Hey.’ She smiled. ‘No guy’s worth this many tears.’
‘Sweetheart.’ The sound of Gemma’s gentle concern brought more tears to my eyes. I somehow made my way down the steps and stumbled into her arms.
She held me, stroking my hair. ‘Sssh, now,’ she whispered. ‘Sssh.’
She led me over to a bartered old shelving unit covered with ancient gardening tools. An old sofa with the stuffing leaking out of stained cushions rested against
the wall. Gemma sat me down and took the seat beside me while Ros perched on the arm.
‘This is filthy,’ Ros said with a grimace. ‘Definitely one for your bonfire.’
Gemma squeezed my arm. ‘Flynn was looking for you, River. He couldn’t find you in the house. Thought you might be out here. We said we’d come and see.’
I nodded and Gemma put her arm round me. ‘He told us why you’re upset.’
I rested my head against her. ‘He did?’
She nodded. ‘Yup. You don’t want him to leave London to do his law degree next year. Is that right?’
‘Well . . .’ Hearing Gemma say it out loud like that, it sounded really mean and childish. I swallowed. ‘It’s not so much that I mind him leaving, as that I’ll miss him. I mean, maybe he isn’t as into me as . . . as he makes out.’
Ros snorted. ‘I’d like to see how he behaves when he is into someone then. He never takes his eyes off you.’ She paused, grinning. ‘Or his hands.’
Gemma squeezed my arm again. ‘It’s true, you know, River. I think he really does care about you. He was ever so upset when we found him looking for you. He was even saying he would stay in London.’
I sat up. ‘Really?’
I looked from Gemma to Ros.
Ros frowned. ‘But we told him not to.’
‘What?’
‘That’s right, River.’ Gemma cleared her throat. ‘It’s not right for you to stop Flynn studying where and how he wants to.’
‘I know.’ I looked away.
‘Listen, River.’ Ros turned my face towards her. ‘It’s a miracle Flynn’s still going to school, given his background. The fact that he’s bright enough and working hard enough to possibly get on the best courses in the country – that’s something you should support him doing.’