Tricky Girls (Girls of Hazelhurst #1)

9. CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 9

Elly

The view from the ferry always fills me with a mingled sense of majesty and hopelessness. There’s the twinkling, winking lights from the port city on one side and the hulking, foreboding Hazelhurst Castle on the other. Always takes me a while to choose which to face. Tonight it’s the island. A hunk of rock I really don’t want to leave.

I burrow into the hoodie I have on under my denim jacket, keeping my suitcase steady between my feet. Everyone else is inside but I stay leaning against the railing, freezing my stupid butt off. It helps somewhat, the biting sea air numbing some of the desperation. I want it to freeze the sand I feel slipping between my fingers. To stave off the seemingly inevitable. That my grandparents can’t cope anymore. That I need to come home, to throw my dreams away and take up the family mantle. Sucks it has to be me, but who the fuck else is there?

It’s about forty minutes to reach the mainland, by which time I’m chilled to the bone. Then it’s a bus, a train and another bus to the small town I’ve called home since forever.

It’s late afternoon by the time I turn into the alley between two terrace houses. The garden gate is jammed as usual. I shoulder it open, dragging my suitcase over the cracked paving stones overgrown with weeds. It’s not a bad garden, just neglected. I should have done more with it over summer.

Mindful of my sick siblings, I don’t holler for them as I usually do. Only the animals greet me when I enter the kitchen, two dogs and three cats weaving between my legs.

‘Hi, babies,’ I whisper, giving each of them a perfunctory stroke.

See, even they’re too much. The chihuahua doesn’t need much walking, but Beau, a large staffie cross, needs multiple a day. Doubt they’ve been out all week with everything that’s gone on.

I find Grandad in the bathroom, pulling Maisie’s hair back as she hacks over the toilet bowl.

‘Oh, mate.’ I give her back a rub, noticing how matted her hair is. As neglected as the garden. ‘Not having a good time, huh?’

My question brings on the water works. Flashing me a grim smile, Grandad flushes the toilet as I take Maisie into my arms.

‘Hey, it’s okay. I’m home now.’

She’s shivering badly in her thin pyjamas, so I lead her back downstairs where there’s a bundle of blankets and pillows on the sofa, her favourite teddy peeking out between them.

‘Let’s get you tucked in.’

I feel her forehead; it’s cool but there’s a bottle of Calpol on the table telling me she probably has a temperature.

‘I’m just gonna pop in and see the other sickbags. Hang tight for me?’

Maisie nods, eyes already drooping as she stares glassily at the TV.

I hate seeing them laid out like this. They’re usually feral, so loud and hyperactive they get more neighbourly complaints than the dogs’ constant barking.

I pop my head into the girls’ room, seeing Taylor asleep on the bed, my old laptop playing something quietly on the desk. Daniel’s in the room next door, crossed legged on his bed playing something on his Xbox.

‘Hey.’

He barely spares me a glance. ‘I wouldn’t, we’re all diseased here.’

‘Not you, though.’

He shrugs. ‘Must be a girl disease.’

‘Lucky you.’

‘Nan’s in hospital.’

‘I heard.’

‘Mum, too.’ He tuts when his avatar’s shot dead. ‘Well, that weird house place.’

Meadow Hill. A crisis house. She’s there every two months on average, despite saying she’s never going back upon every discharge.

‘Well, I’ll be here until Monday. Hopefully the girls will have stopped chucking up by then.’

I close his door, meeting Grandad on the landing.

‘Thanks for coming home, Ells.’

I give a weak smile. ‘No worries. How are they?’

He raises his arms in a shrug. ‘At the toilet every few minutes. Taylor’s over the worst of it, I think. But little Maisie—’ He shakes his head.

‘She’s a toughie. She’ll be fine. Kids get sick. How’s Nan? Hating hospital, I bet.’

‘About to go up and see her now if that’s alright with you.’

‘Sure. I’ll hold down the fort. I’ll go see her tomorrow or something.’

He nods, giving my arm a stroke as he heads back downstairs. He looks like shit. Wan and tired. He doesn’t need to be dealing with all this.

Once he’s left, I make a deal with Daniel: he looks after the girls while I take the dogs out.

There’s a river behind the field of Maisie and Taylor’s school. It leads all the way into the nearest city, but I’ve never walked that far. It’s pretty sparse, just murky water, grassy banks and horse fields, but it’s good for when you need a breather.

It’s dark out, despite not being that late. Light pollution and distant houses light my way. There’s plenty of other dogwalkers around this time of night so it’s not too creepy.

Things feel more settled here. Sucks Mum isn’t around to look after her kids, but I know she’s safer in the crisis house where she can’t hurt herself. Nan will be fine. Didn’t break anything, just knocked her noggin. Still going to need some recovery time once she gets out. Maybe I can do every weekend. Maybe I can persuade Daniel to step up and help more. I know he’s still a kid but he can do more to help than just playing his Xbox. He can take the dogs out at the very least.

As regular as clockwork, Lady starts begging to be picked up as I make the loop back home. I gather her into my arms, kissing her ginger fluffiness. All gingers in this family apart from the cats who are all pure black.

My thoughts drift back to Hazelhurst as I watch swans peck at the overgrown banks. Wonder how game night went. I know Haz was pissed I bailed on our storyboarding session, but she’ll get over it. She’s a better illustrator than me anyway. Tilda too, who said she’d do half of it.

We also left her in charge of the script since it’s her baby. I feel major FOMO thinking about the two of them back at Hazelhurst. They might have even buddied up to work on the project, though I doubt much would get done if that’s the case. Haz will be trying to add more entries, a thought that irritates me. It’s not that I mind sharing the girl, if that’s what she eventually wants, it’s Haz winning that pisses me off. She’s a dirty player whilst I like to play by the rules.

Guess who wins the most?

I take stock of myself now, carrying this lazy mutt, her bags of shit dangling from my fingers, probably about to contract a violent stomach bug myself.

I don’t wish Haz’s past on anyone but at least she’s free. Like, no family at all. No duties. No responsibilities. But all that money she inherited off her piece of shit family after they went up in flames. Literally.

Kind of messed up that I envy her.

I just need another two years—less than. Then I can return home permanently. Get a job, a good one that Hazelhurst will be the key to, and support my grandparents. Be there for Mum more.

I just have a feeling they don’t have another two years in them.

Grandad is always in bed early so by 10pm I’m flopped on the sofa, a thin blanket over me and both dogs lolling on the floor. The girls would be hanging off me if they were well, too hyped up to sleep. A testament to just how sick they’re feeling. Dan will no doubt be up in his den, playing his shooter into the wee hours of the morning.

I’m restless. Bored. Trying not to worry. I scroll through my contacts, heart doing a little flip when I see a green dot beside Tilda’s name. I click onto it, scrolling through our few messages. Then I add one more.

Working hard, I hope.

I’m not really expecting a reply, so I’m surprised when I get one back almost immediately.

Tilda: Of course. Star student me. Haz has just left actually

I let out a huff. Bloody knew it.

Me: Oh yeah? Get much done?

Tilda: She was helping me with some boy trouble

Me: Sounds like Haz. Little Samaritan that she is

Tilda: Little devil, you mean. Are you doing game night too?

Me: Nope. Home this weekend.

Tilda: Oh cool. Where’s that? Any sibs?

Me: Midlands-ish. And yeah, three of them. All younger

Tilda: I’m midlands too now. And cool. I was a loner kid

Easier, is my first thought. Then I feel bad. With Mum being how she is, I practically raised my bunch. They’re more than just my siblings. I wouldn’t wish to get rid of them for all the world.

Boring? I ask.

Tilda: Pretty much. Like tonight. Dead around here

Me: Fancy a call? I’m bored AF too. Everyone’s asleep

Tilda: Phone calls make me nervy x

Me: I’ll be gentle, promise xxx

Her picture enlarges on my phone and I blink at it a moment before answering.

‘Look at you taking the initiative.’

‘I have been known to do that sometimes.’

‘I’m honoured. With your nerves and all.’

‘You should be. They’re kinda bad.’

She sounds pretty chill to me, an obvious smile in her voice.

‘Sorry I’m not there to hold your hand,’ I tease. ‘Or other things.’

‘Oh my god, you’re as bad as Haz.’

‘Hey, bite your tongue.’ I grin. ‘Or I will.’

There’s a moment of pointed silence over the phone.

‘Okay, I see what you mean. Guess she’s been rubbing off on me.’

Tilda hums down the phone. ‘Why do I get the feeling you’ve rubbed off on her? And make a dirty joke about rubbing and I’ll kill you.’

‘You know, I kinda get the feeling you’re worse than both of us put together.’

‘Dunno where you get that impression from. I’m an angel.’

‘Angel of death.’

‘Hell yeah,’ she laughs. She has a nice laugh. All girlish and lilting. One you can’t help but smile along with.

‘So, what did you and Haz get up to then? You said boy trouble. That same dude?’

‘Ryan, yeah. He wouldn’t let me get my stuff back so I called for backup. Did the job.’

‘I bet. Another broken nose?’

‘Thankfully not.’

I hate that I want to ask. I want to know every double entendre Haz might have said to her. Did they touch? Did Haz come onto her? I mean, of course she would have. But enough to add to the table?

‘I’m surprised Haz left yours so early,’ I hedge. ‘Would have thought she’d insist on spending the night.’

‘Jealous?’ Tilda croons.

Fuck.

‘Maybe.’ I shift on the sofa, running a restless hand over Beau’s bristly back. ‘That a problem?’

‘Just a little, yeah. You know, the whole straight thing.’

‘Ah, that. Nah, that’s a non-issue.’

‘That confident, hey? I like it.’

‘You do?’

‘Well, I’ve always like confident guys, so…’

‘I’m better than any guy, Tilda. Telling you.’

‘I want to say prove it but don’t want to be a clit tease.’

‘No, please. Tease away. I beg you.’

‘Oh, you beg me? That’s your thing, hm?’ I hear a muffled laugh, like she’s buried her face in her hands. ‘Sorry. I’m being a saddo just drinking here all on my own. Vodka. It makes me a horn dog.’

‘No apology necessary, babe. I love it. Tell me more about how you’d get me to beg.’

‘Fuck, Elly. I honestly wouldn’t know what to do with a girl. That’s honestly terrifying to me.’

‘I’m a perfect gentlewoman. I’d ease you into it, nothing to fear. Haz on the other hand…’

‘She’s like level two?’

‘Yeah. You’d have to qualify first. I can help with that.’

‘Sweet. Well, if I ever have a change of heart, you’ll be the one I come to.’

I’m glad she can’t see my fool grin. That’s gotta be one for the table, right? Not that Haz would believe she said that. Pics or it didn’t happen.

‘Sounds good,’ I whisper.

Despite the blue light from the telly and the sound of Daniel shouting over his headset, I find my eyes drooping, the sofa suddenly seeming comfier than usual. I yawn widely, forgetting to pull the phone away.

‘Sorry, am I keeping you up?’ Tilda jokes.

‘Long day. I’m fucked.’

‘Everything good?’

‘Yeah.’ I nod though it goes unseen. ‘Yeah. All good. You? I’m assuming the drink is because you’re still sad over Ryan.’

‘Dunno what I am,’ she mutters. ‘I mean, yeah, but… Whatever. Don’t want to be thinking about him.’

‘Fair enough. I’ll let you go then anyway. A second more and you’ll be hearing me snoring.’

‘Alright. Thanks for the call. Took me out of my sad for a bit.’

‘Anytime. And I mean that. See you Monday?’

‘Yep. Bright and early for our 9am.’

Even the threat of that can’t ruin how content I feel right now. ‘Alright. You hang up though, otherwise I won’t be able to.’

‘Oh, doing that, are we? Shit, things got serious fast. Okay. Hanging up now. Goodnight, sleep tight and all that.’

The line goes silent. I chuckle, darkening my phone and sliding it beneath my pillow. I close my eyes, making room for Lady who jumps up beside me. I wish it was Tilda. Insane thought, but god, I’d do anything to feel that body cuddled up to mine right now. I bet she’d fit perfectly. She seems the perfect size against me.

It’s better than thinking about that tired man upstairs, his wife laid out in a hospital bed, my sisters sick to their stomachs and our mother fighting every second of every day not to end herself.

Yeah, the thought of holding Tilda is a hell of a lot sweeter.