Chapter 3
Eurocamp. Could my life actually be more embarrassing?
Eighteen, not eight. Mum turned round in the front seat of the too-small-for-five-people rental car and motioned for me to take off my earphones.
We’d got off the plane in Bordeaux and were now squished into the car on our way to some campsite in Biarritz.
The kind of campsite that we’d gone to every summer until I was about nine.
And I used to love them. Ten years ago. I’d go to the kids’ camps and spend days in the sun doing crafts and playing football, topped off by hours in the swimming pool or on the beach.
Then Wren and Rue were born, and it just stopped.
I’d moved as close to the window as possible, but Rue’s elbow was still digging into me.
I turned up the music that was blasting into my eardrums.
‘Oh, Margot, what is that music?’ Mum’s face twisted in disgust when she heard it. ‘Turn it down please, before they hear that.’ As if the precious eight- and nine-year-old ears beside me would be scarred for life if they heard the word ‘motherfucker’.
‘We’re here!’ she said to the whole car.
Rue and Wren cheered, and I looked out the window.
Rows of pine trees, mobile home after mobile home, then a few tents to break up the monotony. A blazing sun cast scattered pockets of light on the dusty lanes, and there were little children everywhere. God.
Dad slowed down and stopped at the entrance as some girl on a bike, with a huge smile, blonde hair and a Eurocamp hat spoke to him through the open window. Then we followed her, twisting down a million paths until we pulled up in front of our mobile jail.
‘This is us. Home for the next four weeks.’ Despite my music, I could hear Dad over it.
Four weeks. The joy of having parents who were both teachers …
Way too long to be away from Theo. But maybe that was deliberate.
Dad said I’d changed since getting a boyfriend, but I think he was mistaking change with growing up.
And anyway, I think he was just saying that to try to pretend he was actually still involved in my life.
I think he was just mad that I packed in the swimming. And that was nothing to do with Theo.
I waited for them all to get out of the car and checked my phone.
ARI: Hey bitch, can’t believe they kidnapped you
ME: I know, ffs.
ARI: Send me pictures
ME: Of what? Tents?
ARI: Wish my parents would kidnap me on holiday
ME: I’d rather be in Belfast. Seriously
Dad poked his head through the open door. ‘Margot, give us a hand, please.’
I pulled my earphones down round my neck, so I could still hear the music, and got out of the car as slowly as possible.
Scorching heat hit me in the face, and I recoiled like a vampire. I could hear the chirpy Eurocamper explaining stuff to Dad.
I grabbed my bag from the boot and dragged it inside, wishing they’d just left me at home.
I mean, technically, I could have protested more.
I was eighteen. An adult. I didn’t have to do what they told me.
Four weeks was, like, totally excessive, but I guess I’d still have Theo when I got back and we could spend the rest of the summer together, and whatever came after that.
My A-level results were going to be a disaster; that I did know.
I pushed the thought away again, like I’d been doing for months.
‘Margot, pick it up, you’ll ruin it,’ Mum complained. I hauled my bag up, making it look heavier than it was, then chucked it on to the little sofa, dust and all.
Mum sighed. ‘This is going to be a long four weeks for everyone if this is your attitude the whole time.’
I winced at the shriek that came out of Wren’s mouth. It was going to be an unbearable four weeks if I had to listen to those two squealing like banshees the whole time. And my room was right beside theirs. I glanced in as I walked past. Rue had Wren in a headlock. Oh well.
I lay down on the ridiculously small bed. Of course it was hard.
Dad stuck his head round the door frame, then pointlessly knocked.
‘We’re going swimming, Gogo. Want to come?’
‘Don’t call me that.’ He really needed to let that name fucking go … go.
‘At least take a walk or something – you’ve been sitting in that car for ages, we all have. Why don’t you go for a dander and meet us back here for pizza at seven?’
I turned away from him on the bed and squeezed my eyes shut.
‘Maybe. Might just sleep.’
‘Well, suit yourself. I’ll take the girls exploring.’
I sighed with relief when they left. Silence except for the sound of Mum pottering around the kitchen. But I finally had some privacy, and now I could FaceTime Theo.
He picked up after the fifth ring, in his bedroom, trusty baseball cap pulled down over his forehead.
‘Hey, you,’ I said, smiling. ‘Well, I’m here. They actually did it. Kidnapped me.’ I rolled my eyes and then stared into his, trying to work out if he was stoned or not, but I couldn’t get a good look. He was staring at something else.
‘Hey, babe,’ he said, his voice even slower and more detached than usual. Definitely stoned.
‘How was Tina’s?’ I asked.
‘You know, same old … Ari’s fucking mental.’ He smiled like he was remembering something.
‘What did she do?’ I asked, desperate for anything to take my mind off this stupid holiday.
‘Jumped off that pipe into the sea. At midnight. Fucking naked.’ He grinned again and my stomach contracted so hard I thought I might throw up.
‘Are you serious?’
‘Yeah, man, we all did. But she started it. How’s Spain?’
‘France.’
‘Oh yeah, France. Hey, babe, I better go, I’m still wrecked from last night, you know?’
‘Sure,’ I said, trying to keep the disappointment from showing.
‘Bye, Margot.’
‘Bye. The–’
But he was gone.
I felt sick. Ari was skinny-dipping with my boyfriend? What the hell?
ME: Ari wtf? Theo said you were all skinny dipping last night?
ARI: Chill, it was a bit of fun. Nothing happened. Possessive much?
ME: He’s my boyfriend Ari
ARI: So talk to him about that. People can’t be stolen Marge. Not unless they want to be
I could hardly breathe. How could this happen? Why the hell did I leave?
‘Margot, why don’t you help me clean? I’d like to give it a quick once-over before they get back,’ Mum called.
‘Nope.’ I sprang out of bed, wiped my face, opened my suitcase and took out the first thing I saw.
An AC/DC T-shirt long enough to wear as a dress.
I got changed and looked in the mirror. I pulled my hair out of its ponytail, and it wasn’t straight any more, but wavy in the heat.
I tied it up again. I hated Mum right then.
Hated her. If they hadn’t made me leave, I’d have been at Tina’s last night too.
‘I’m away for a walk,’ I said, sniffing away tears and keeping my head down.
‘You sure you wouldn’t rather stay with me?’ Mum didn’t even look up from her scrubbing.
‘Yeah,’ I said and walked outside. I put on my sunglasses. I’d been saving up for the Ray-Ban ones when Mum and Dad stopped my pocket money a while ago after I kept missing curfew, so I had to make do with ones from Primark.
I didn’t know where I was going. I hadn’t been paying attention when we came in. So I just walked. I swear to God there were kids everywhere. Literally everywhere. Like the worst kind of infestation. A ball came out of nowhere and hit me on the side of the chest.
‘Do you mind?’ I shouted and kept walking.
‘Pardon,’ a tiny French voice called, but I didn’t look at who it came from because I knew they’d be cute, and I’d feel even worse. I was just in such a constant rage these days that not even adorable small people could get me out of it.
I kept walking in the blistering heat until I reached a restaurant/bar thing with red-and-white chequered cloths on the tables.
I sat down under one of the umbrellas and looked around.
Everyone was about ten years younger than me or thirty years older.
What was I supposed to do here for four weeks?
I picked chipped black nail varnish from my fingers and stared at the drinks menu.
I went over and over it in my head. What Theo had said.
Ari’s message. Was there something between them?
‘Vous avez choisi?’ a voice said. I looked up, over my glasses, to see a man standing there.
No, not a man; a boy, my age, in a white shirt and black trousers.
His hair was fair and wavy, and his eyes were light brown, with flecks of gold that had been missing from Theo’s.
I thought about taking off my sunglasses to look at him properly, but then he’d see my red eyes.
‘Vous avez choisi?’ he repeated, this time with a smile. The most perfect smile, which drew my eyes to his razor-sharp jawline.
‘Sorry, je ne comprends pas,’ I said, even though I kind of did comprends. I’d just done my A-level French exam. And even though the mark would definitely be shite, I’d loved it up until a year ago.
‘You have chosen what you would like?’ he said in English with that smile, and that accent. I tried not to keep looking at him and look at the menu instead, but it was hard. His shirt was fitted so you could see the outline of his biceps, square shoulders … that jaw.
‘Vin rouge, s’il vous plait,’ I said, hoping he wouldn’t call me out, as if he could possibly know that I didn’t even like or know anything about red wine. It was just easy to say in French.
‘Bien s?r,’ he smiled, and his eyes twinkled. I watched him walk away.
My phone buzzed and there was a message from Ella, some girl in my year at school. Why was she Snapping me?
I opened it and there she was, with Kylie, peace signs and tongues out. Must have been a mistake. I put the phone down on the table, but something made me pick it up again.
And I wish I hadn’t.
I looked more closely at the photo this time. Theo was there, in the background, sitting on someone’s couch with Ari sprawled on top of him in a tiny pair of shorts and a backless top.
I turned my phone off and put it face down on the table, then I clamped my hand over my mouth in case the bile that was churning in my stomach somehow made its way up my throat and on to the chequered tablecloth.
Then the tears started again. And I couldn’t stop them.