Without Looking Back
The following day, when Dad came home from work, he had news.
‘I’ve enrolled you at a local school,’ he told them. ‘It’s about ten miles away in Coniston, so I’ll have to drive you, or there’s a bus you can take. But it seems like a really nice place. Meg recommended it to me.’
‘School!’ Millie’s eyes grew wide. ‘But I thought we were on holiday!’
‘It’s August, Millie. School starts again on the fifth of September,’ Dad said gently. ‘Besides, the sooner you start school, the sooner you’ll start sounding like real English children. And you all need some friends your own age . . .’
‘Is it a primary and secondary school?’ Max wanted to know.
‘Well, it’s a secondary school, but there’s a nice little primary school for Millie just across the road.’
‘We’re gonna have to write in English and stuff?’ Max looked worried.
‘The school has a learning support centre and it caters well for dyslexics,’ Dad replied. ‘You’ll be allowed to do all your written work on a laptop and you’ll be given extra time for exams.’
‘Really?’ Max looked dumbfounded. ‘I can just use the spellchecker the whole time?’
‘Absolutely. And there’s no system of redoublement in this country. So you’ll be going into Year Ten with kids your own age.’
‘What’s Year Ten?’
‘Troisième.’
Max let out a low whistle.
‘You’ll have to do those CGE things,’ Louis warned him.
‘Yes,’ Dad replied. ‘But you can drop some of the subjects you don’t like.’
‘What about me? What about me?’ Millie crowed.
Dad turned to her. ‘You, young lady, will be going into Year Four. Your teacher’s name is Mrs Ross, I believe.’
‘Do we have to wear uniforms?’ Max asked.
‘Yes,’ Dad said.
‘Ooh, gross!’ Millie exclaimed. But she was smiling and her eyes were bright.
Dad turned to Louis. ‘And you, young man, will be going into Year Eight.’
The day of the competition dawned cloudless and bright. Louis woke up with the familiar popcorn feeling in his chest and started practising straight after breakfast. It was a Saturday and so Dad was at home, minus his laptop for once, drinking coffee while poring over the paper. Millie was overexcited – she loved watching Louis compete – but as a result was leaping about like a jumping bean and getting on everyone’s nerves. As Dad tried to persuade her to get dressed, Max was accusing each one of them in turn of having nicked his GameBoy while Louis tried to do triple turns in the small gap between the table and the kitchen sink.
‘Aargh! For God’s sake!’ As Millie pushed past him, he was knocked off-balance and his hip met the sharp corner of the kitchen table. He gripped his side, groaning dramatically.
‘Louis, stop practising in here or you’re not even going to make it to the competition,’ Dad said. ‘Millie, how many times do I have to tell you to get dressed?’
‘I am dressed!’ Millie giggled, holding out the hem of her nightie and curtseying. ‘This is my princess dress and—’
‘If someone doesn’t tell me where my GameBoy is right now . . .’ Max growled. ‘Dad, make them look for it at least!’
‘Surely you can go without that gadget for one day—’
‘I need it now!’ Max shouted. ‘I’m not sitting through a whole bloody dance show without it! Millie, just tell me where you put it. I know you took it – you’re always nicking it—’
‘Why does everyone always blame me?’ Millie sounded outraged as she overfilled her bowl with cereal, sending Coco Pops scattering across the floor.
Dad abandoned his newspaper with a sigh of exasperation. ‘Millie, I want you to get dressed before you have your breakfast—’
‘Dad, make her find my GameBoy first!’
‘I don’t have it! How many times do I have to tell you!’
‘You’re lying!’
‘Ow!’ Millie had got too close to Louis’ fouettés and his foot met with her eye. She staggered backwards, howling dramatically. ‘I’m blinded! He blinded me!’
‘Right, that’s it!’ Dad shouted. ‘Everyone upstairs! You can wait there till it’s time to leave!’
When they finally got into the car, some sort of truce had been achieved. Max was still scowling about the loss of his GameBoy; Millie was still wearing a pained expression; Louis was gnawing on his thumbnail. Tess had rung last night to tell them her mother was holed up in bed with stomach flu and wouldn’t be able to make it, so they picked Tess up in the village and arrived outside Preston leisure centre in time to meet Miss Kano in the car park. Tess’s eyes were very bright and she jumped up and down and grabbed Louis’ arm and gripped it very tightly. Miss Kano and Dad chatted for a bit, and then Dad took Max and Millie off to get ice creams while Miss Kano led them into the building. After going into their respective changing rooms to put on their costumes, they reconvened in the waiting hall that resonated with the roar of excited chatter. There were kids everywhere: milling about, sitting in groups with their dance teachers or parents, stretching or practising elements from their routines.
Miss Kano found them a small space in a corner and Louis and Tess sat down and drank from their water bottles and ate their energy bars while Miss Kano went off to the front of the room to register them.
Louis looked up at Tess as she adjusted the straps of her leotard. ‘Nervous?’
‘Terrified,’ she replied, but she was grinning.
Miss Kano returned with their numbers, which she pinned to their backs. Because their dance was mainly modern, they had gone for street costumes: Tess wore a stretchy denim miniskirt over a black leotard and Louis wore stretchy jeans and a white tank top with NEW YORK emblazoned on it and Max’s black sweatband round his wrist. But some of the kids around looked like show ponies – with tassels and make-up and even bells!
Then there was a long wait. They did some gentle warm-up exercises, watching the board anxiously for their numbers. Louis glanced up at the clock and hoped that Dad, Max and Millie had taken their seats in the main sports hall. Then, suddenly, a number was called out and Tess was grabbing his arm, her eyes wide. ‘That’s us!’
Miss Kano was getting to her feet, an encouraging smile on her face. ‘OK. Deep breaths. Remember your timings.’
She followed them to the door and wished them luck. Then she disappeared to take her seat in the main hall and Louis and Tess were left alone.
‘We’ll just do our best,’ Tess was saying, gripping Louis’ hand, her breathing fast and shallow. ‘That’s all we can do, right?’
‘We’ll be fine, Tess,’ Louis said, with more conviction than he felt. ‘We’ll be fine.’
They were led into the vast sports hall and the audience on the packed bleachers burst into applause. They gave their names and numbers to the three judges sitting behind the trestle tables and Louis tried to avert his eyes from Dad, Max and Millie, who were sitting in the front row. A final squeeze of Tess’s hand and then they were taking up their positions on the mark in the centre of the hall, back to back – the simple starting positions they had come up with just a few weeks ago. There was a moment’s deafening silence. And then the music began.
Afterwards, it was hard to remember performing the actual routine. It all seemed to go very quickly. Louis remembered hoping his knees weren’t shaking visibly as he stood ready to begin. But once the dance started, there was no time to think about anything. The adrenaline pumping through his body made even the tumbling feel effortless. The slower moves were harder, though, especially the ones that required careful balance. He remembered thinking that the music was very loud and that Tess’s eyes were very bright. He messed up the timing on the fouettés and only just managed to stop at the same time as Tess; then got too close to her on the backwards walkovers and felt her hand push against his arm. But there were no disasters. And when they returned to their back-to-back position for the fi
nish, the applause and wolf-whistles from the stands were deafening.
Back in the waiting hall, they couldn’t stop talking, rehashing every move with Miss Kano at the top of their voices. Eventually they calmed down, downed a bottle of water each, got changed and went to meet the others in the car park.
‘You were the best! You were the best!’ Millie was squealing and jumping up and down with excitement.
Max shot Louis a grin and said, ‘Yeah, not bad.’
Dad put his hand on Louis’ shoulder and said, ‘Well done, son. That was terrific. I felt very proud.’
They all went out for a pizza together. The results wouldn’t be announced till two and so there was a good hour to wait. In the restaurant, Miss Kano talked about the next round in London. Only the winners of this round would get to go. ‘But even if you’re a runner-up, there’s still a cash prize.’
‘I think you’re going to win, I think you’re going to win!’ Millie exclaimed excitedly.
‘Steady on, Katie,’ Miss Kano said with a smile. ‘They did really well but there were some other fabulous dancers too. We’ll just have to wait and see what the judges decide.’
Tess caught Louis’ eye across the table. ‘But whatever the outcome, our dance was the best, wasn’t it?’ She grinned.
Louis nodded. ‘Absolutely.’
Back in the stands, the tension was palpable. At the end of the hall, the three judges stood behind the trestle tables on which were displayed an array of medals. There was a long and boring speech by one of the organizers about the different forms of dance and the nature of competition and how every contestant was a winner, etc. Then came the announcements.
‘Third place goes to Anna Jenkins and Simon Williams.’
A round of applause. Two teenagers came out to collect their medals, beaming and looking back at their friends.
‘Second place goes to Alisha Kuwa and Tyrone Pierce.’
More clapping. Louis recognized two talented street-dancers he’d noticed warming up outside before the competition.
Tess gave him an agonized look, biting her lower lip. Louis found himself holding his breath.
‘And first place goes to Tess Morham and Liam Franklin.’
Deafening applause. It took Louis a moment to react. He recognized Tess’s name but not his own. But then Miss Kano’s hands were on his shoulders, propelling him forward, and Tess was grabbing his hand, gasping in disbelief.
Dazed, Louis followed her towards the judges’ table, where they received their medals. There were backslaps and flowers and handshakes, and Louis and Tess were asked what it felt like to have won and whether they were excited at the prospect of competing in the next round in London. Millie hugged them each tightly round the waist, and Max ruffled Louis’ hair and gave Tess a kiss on the cheek, which made her blush. More strangers came up to ask further questions and Louis and Tess were asked to pose for a photo, but as soon as the flash went off, Dad’s mood suddenly changed. He grabbed Louis by the arm and ordered them all into the car. In the car park, Louis rolled down the window, and he and Tess called out their thanks to Miss Kano, promising to start thinking about music for the London heats. But Dad just gunned the engine and they roared off home.
As soon as they reached the farmhouse, Tess called her mum to tell her the news while Dad started preparing things for dinner. Louis was on a high, doing handstands and walkovers in the courtyard, adrenaline-drunk from their wonderful day. Millie paraded around with his gold medal hanging from her neck and even Max seemed cheerful. They would be competing in London in September, Louis kept on thinking. Could they win that round too? Then they would be only one stage away from the Royal Variety Show!
But Dad seemed to be simmering about something. He snapped at Millie to feed her cat and told Louis to lay the table. Millie returned, complaining that Treasure was nowhere to be found. Dad turned from the cooker and said, ‘Josh, go and help Katie bring her cat inside, will you?’
‘I’ll go,’ said Tess.
Louis finished laying the table and helped Dad dish up. His arms and legs were beginning to ache with exhaustion but his chest was bursting with a feeling of complete elation.
‘Dad, I can’t wait for the next round of the competition! Do you think we might win that too?’
Dad said nothing. Perhaps he hadn’t heard. He finished dishing up the spaghetti bolognese and then looked round in annoyance. ‘Where the hell is everyone?’
‘Looking for Treasure, I think.’
‘Then go and call them, will you? It’s going to get cold.’
Louis went out into the courtyard. He met Millie walking up the dirt track with Treasure in her arms. ‘Dinner’s ready,’ Louis told her. ‘Where are the others?’
‘In the barn.’
Louis crossed the courtyard and scraped open the corrugated-iron door.
‘Dinner’s—’ He broke off, frozen. There, in a shaft of warm evening sunlight, Max and Tess stood with their arms around each other, kissing.
Chapter Twelve
MONDAY MORNING, DAD didn’t go to work. Louis woke to hear the sound of cupboard doors slamming and china plates clattering from the kitchen below. Max and Millie were already up – Millie was buttering a large slice of toast and talking to her cat; Max had his feet up on a chair, reading a magazine between spoonfuls of cereal.
‘Are you still eating?’ Dad barked at Max as Louis took a seat at the table.
‘No, Dad, I’m just pretending to eat,’ Max retorted. ‘This chewing motion I’m doing is just a form of exercise for my jaw—’
‘That’s enough,’ Dad snapped. ‘Put the comic down and hurry up with your breakfast.’
‘Why?’ Max lowered the magazine and looked up in disbelief. ‘You know, Dad, it is sometimes actually possible to do more than one thing at a time.’
‘I need to drive into town and sort some things out. I want you to finish breakfast so you can come with me.’
‘Oh, Daaad . . .’ Millie put down her toast and rolled her eyes dramatically.
‘I’m not coming with you,’ Max stated. ‘I’ve got a doubles match with Ned at twelve.’
‘Cancel it,’ Dad snapped.
‘No!’ Max exclaimed, outraged. ‘Why should I?’
Dad gave him one of his warning looks. ‘Just do as you’re told, Max, OK?’
Max gave Dad a furious glare, threw his spoon down on the table and stalked over to the telephone. Dad picked up Max’s bowl, put it in the sink and started wiping the table.
‘Daaad . . .’ Millie complained as he lifted her plate to wipe beneath it.
‘Come on, Millie, you’re too slow. Where are your shoes? You haven’t even brushed your hair.’
‘I haven’t finished my toast!’
Louis broke off a small piece of croissant and put it in his mouth.
After muttering darkly on the phone for several minutes, Max replaced the receiver with a crash and turned to Dad. ‘Thanks a lot for ruining my day.’
‘Put on your shoes and get in the car,’ Dad said, ignoring the comment. ‘Are you ready, Louis?’
‘Yeah,’ Louis said.
Getting into the car with the others, Louis felt numb. His arms and legs no longer seemed to belong to him; he was moving on autopilot, just putting one foot in front of the other, going through the motions. As Max and Millie squabbled for the front seat, as Dad shouted at them both and relegated them all to the back, Louis tried to focus on doing the things that were expected of him and concentrated on not falling apart. But a sharp sliver of pain seemed to have lodged itself deep inside his chest and it hurt to be alive. There was a constant burn at the back of his throat, an ache behind his eyes, a weakness in his arms and legs and a feeling of sadness – of sadness so strong, he had to take rapid shallow breaths to control it. It was a pain he had never experienced before – like missing someone so much you thought you were going to die. Tess . . .
Last night he had wanted to sob her name into his pillow, but had held his
breath and stemmed the tears for fear that Max would hear. And now he had to somehow get through another whole day without anyone guessing what was wrong. How Max would laugh if he knew. And he could just imagine the pitying look on Dad’s face and the gentle words: Oh, Louis, you couldn’t have thought she was interested in you! You’re only a child. She’s fourteen! She thinks of you as her little brother.
By the time they reached the town, Dad and Max were arguing again. ‘Why the hell did you make us come with you if you just wanted to leave us locked up in the car?’ Max was shouting.
‘I didn’t want to leave you at home on your own today,’ Dad was saying. ‘For once in your life, Max, just do as you’re told without arguing, OK?’
‘No, it’s not OK! I’m getting out of the car and looking round the shops if you’re going to the bank! It’s boiling in this car and I don’t see why I should stay here just because it’s more convenient for you!’ They went on and on as Dad circled the busy car park, searching for a space.
Louis kept his cheek pressed to the window, staring out blindly. He felt the touch of a hand on his arm. ‘Loulou?’
‘Mm.’
‘What are you thinking about?’ Millie asked.
‘Nothing.’ He didn’t turn round.
‘Why is Dad being so angry?’
‘Dunno.’
After being cooped up in the car for half an hour while Dad ran his errands, tempers had reached boiling point and Max and Millie were locked in another furious row over who got to sit in the front. Dad slammed back into the driving seat with a handful of papers that he threw across the dashboard, started the engine and shot the car forward with a furious jerk. Millie, who’d lost the front-seat war and hadn’t got her seatbelt on, smacked her forehead on the headrest in front and promptly burst into tears. Max, who thought she was crying because of the seating arrangements, twisted round and said, ‘God, you can really be such a baby—’
‘Shut up!’ Dad suddenly yelled. ‘Shut up, the lot of you! I’ve had enough of your complaints and endless squabbling! You’re just spoiled, ungrateful brats! You have no idea how much work has gone into bringing you to England with me! I don’t know why I ever bothered!’