Beyond

Chapter Two

Chapter TwoI’ve started having weird dreams.

Actually, let me rephrase: I’ve always had weird dreams. But this week they’ve gotten weirder. Since Bonfire Night, they’ve all been fireworks-related: me flying on a firework, the Earth getting hit by a giant firework, Mum serving fireworks for dinner…

But the weirdest one was last night. It was an almost exact replay of this year’s actual Bonfire Night, with me, Mum, Dad, Kent, Jenna, Daisy and Callum at the firework display. It was freezing and we’d all wrapped up warm and huddled together. Just before the last fireworks were set off, Jenna let go of Kent and gave us all a wave. Everyone waved back, like that had been the plan all along. She danced over to the bonfire and, with a huge smile on her face, jumped on it. Just jumped into the fire. As the fireworks went off, her soul flew into the sky with them. I don’t know how I knew that—I couldn’t physically see her ghost or anything flying—but I just knew.

I wake up crying. Not crying crying, but my eyes are watering. And my whole body just feels… weird. I lie there for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling, waiting for things to go back to normal, but they don’t. My brain won’t stop replaying it, like some messed-up TV show, over and over on a loop. I close my eyes and it’s still there: her jumping cheerily into the fire while we all just waved at her and fireworks flashed and popped all around us.

I open my eyes and it’s there again. The fire. The body. The soul. I can’t bear it. I end up getting up and ready for school, despite the clock saying 6:45. I’d rather be at the gates two hours early than have to watch that ever again.

*

‘Honey, are you all right?’ Mum puts down her paper and breaks into my thoughts. I’ve been pushing my lumpy porridge round the bowl for a while now. Mum’s insisted on making porridge on the hob since the announcement, even though it tastes better as a packet of oats with a splash of milk in the microwave.

‘I’m fine, Mum.’ I answer, shovelling a spoonful of the horrible stuff in my mouth to shut her up. Breakfasts are weird now Jenna doesn’t always join us. Everything’s weird. And at times like this, when the room feels so different without her, it seems so unfair. Why my family, why my sister? There’s no answer. There’ll never be an answer. And that just makes the whole thing even worse.

‘Are you sure?’ she presses, closing her paper completely. I suppress a sigh, half-feeling sorry for her. She doesn’t know how to handle this any more than me, I suppose. But she’s an adult. She should be more put-together. I think about saying this aloud but then a buzz from my phone tells me Daisy is outside. I’m saved.

‘Daisy’s here, Mum. See you later.’ I leave my breakfast things on the table: she likes tidying up anyway.

‘Oh. Okay.’ Her voice sounds small, like she’s far away. I watch her through the doorway as I pull on my shoes; she scoops the porridge into Roscoe’s bowl and tosses the cutlery into the sink before folding up her paper and placing it neatly on the side. And then she just stands there, looking at the table, her eyes glazed over. Like she’s not really in the kitchen, she’s somewhere else.

‘Finally!’ Daisy rolls her eyes as I open the front door. She’s got her hair in plaits today. It looks nice.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ I say, pulling on my coat and shutting the door. She holds out her hand for my hat as she does every morning, a faded black beanie that I’ve had for years. I don’t mind her wearing it, but I always think she looks kind of funny wearing a hat but no coat. She says she doesn’t feel the cold.

‘Did you get the Science assignment done last night?’ she asks, chewing her pink bubble gum loudly.

‘Nah. Had other stuff to do.’ I avert my eyes. Daisy’s good at knowing when I’m lying. But no way am I telling her I fell asleep at eight and had some messed-up firework death dream.

‘Liar.’ She blows a huge pink bubble. I pop it with my finger. ‘What other stuff?’ she asks.

I ignore her question, waving at Yusuf and Luca across the road instead.

‘Because I know,’ Daisy continues, ‘you weren’t at Callum’s. Or the park. Or the arcade.’

‘What, are you stalking me?’ I feel a stab of annoyance that she’s already asked Callum about this. Or maybe she was at Callum’s actual house, without me. Did they even ask me to go last night? I grab my phone and begin searching through my texts.

‘Um, rude.’ Daisy tries to knock it out of my hand.

‘How was Sadie’s party at the weekend, anyway?’ I ask.

Daisy rabbits on about it until we get to school. Meanwhile I’m looking up at the grey sky. Do souls really go up there?

School passes by like any other day. I used to actually enjoy learning, especially Science and PE. But now nothing interests me. I don’t bother with experiments, or group projects, or homework: let alone the extra credit stuff I was doing last year. I think the teachers are starting to get a bit annoyed. Maybe they believe enough weeks have passed for me to forget about Jenna’s cancer and get back into schoolwork.

*

‘Come on, Alex,’ Mr Hobbs pleads with me after Chemistry. ‘You were on track for an ‘A’ at the end of last year. Now this,’ he holds up my mock test, ‘is really disappointing. Did you revise? At all?’

No, i***t! I want to scream. Maybe if my whole life wasn’t crumbling down around me then I would!

But I don’t. I don’t care enough about Mr Hobbs, or school in general, to fight my corner. I just nod until he shuts up.

When it gets to 3:30 pm I can’t be bothered waiting for the others so I walk home with Yusuf and Luca instead. They’re both super-clever and nice and don’t ask me about my sister. We’re discussing revision techniques for French when we run into Bruce Cleeve and his ape-like friends.

Ugh. Bruce Cleeve—also known as Duce for his lack of brain cells—one of the ugliest, stupidest and meanest guys going. He’ll pick on anyone and everyone, for anything and everything, no discrimination. He even beat up Gary Nevis in Year 12 once. And Gary’s apparently been to juvenile prison.

‘Well, well, well.’ Bruce takes a drag of his cigarette. ‘Look who we have here.’

Yusuf and Luca look at each other nervously and appear to be debating whether to try and carry on walking or not.

‘Go away, Duce,’ I retort. Those two might be scared but I’m not. I’ve got bigger things to be worrying about than him.

‘Oooh,’ Bruce sings, taking a final drag and tossing his cigarette aside. The smell makes my eyes water. ‘He speaks, does he? Haven’t heard this for a while.’

I gulp, already regretting snapping at him. I’m not scared, no, but I’m not stupid. Responding to Duce never deters him, it only spurs him on. I should have known better than to even acknowledge he was there! I’m usually so good at keeping it in. Why does this have to be the one time I open my mouth? We’re at the alley by the park, which is completely deserted. Bruce’s friends are bigger than us. Degenerate, yes. Thick, yes. But still big.

You i***t, Al.

‘Isn’t he Jenna’s brother?’ I hear one of his Apes whisper. My breath catches.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Bruce answers loudly, fiddling with his lighter. ‘The one who—’

‘Leave him alone, Bruce!’

I turn to face the source of the furious yell, immediately knowing who it is. Callum and Daisy are tearing up the park towards us.

‘Ugh. Come on.’ To my utter surprise, Bruce and his Apes leave with a scowl before Daisy and Callum even reach us.

Yusuf and Luca watch them go, their mouths gaping open. ‘I was a hundred percent sure he was gonna light my hair on fire.’ Yusuf says faintly.

‘He won’t,’ Daisy assures him, panting as she tries to catch her breath back. ‘Not when I’m around.’

‘Wow,’ Luca says admiringly as they both gaze at her. It’s not often she speaks to Yusuf and Luca, let alone save them from the school bully and his lighter.

‘Good timing.’ I give her a smile. I’ve been caught by Bruce before when Daisy wasn’t around, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. We all start walking again.

‘Why’s he scared of you, anyway?’ Luca asks. I already know what Daisy will say.

‘He’s got a good reason to be,’ she answers firmly. ‘Let’s just say that.’

Callum and I look at each other. It’s the answer she gives everyone, even us. Trying to find out why Bruce is scared of Daisy is like trying to draw blood from a stone.

‘So,’ Callum says after Yusuf and Luca wave goodbye, ‘why’d you rush off after school?’

‘I didn’t rush off,’ I retort. ‘I just need to get home.’

‘Why?’ Daisy asks. Always so many questions with her. I just shrug, and we continue in silence for a couple of minutes.

‘Something’s been up all day,’ Daisy says suddenly. ‘I know it. What’s wrong, Al? Just tell us.’

‘You can tell us anything,’ Callum agrees encouragingly.

I glance at them from the corner of my eye. Both striding along at the same pace as me, Daisy with her hat and plaits, Callum with his buzzcut and freckles. Two sturdy, trustworthy friends. Surely two people I can be honest with.

‘I’m just having a hard time, you know. With the Jenna thing. It’s all just so… She had a scan today and I just want to get home and find out how it went.’ I feel my voice break slightly but carry on. ‘It’s difficult, you know. Everyone at home is being weird. Mum has been hoovering and cooking non-stop for months and Dad’s drinking a lot again. Jenna’s acting like everything’s fine. It’s hard to concentrate on other things when I know she’s so sick. And… and I keep thinking… she’ll probably die.’ I sniff hard and blink away a couple of tears that I can feel brimming.

‘Oh, Alex.’ Daisy links her arm in mine.

‘I know it’s hard,’ Callum says, ‘and she probably won’t, but… But everyone dies. We’ll all die.’

It's weird that, before this whole thing, I never really thought about death. I mean, sure, Jenna had a hamster once that had to be put down when it got old. But I was only little then. Everyone in my immediate family is fit and healthy, all the way up to my great-grandparents. Actually, my Great-Aunt June died before I was born, from a stroke I think. I’ve never really had to experience death. But Callum is right. Everyone dies.

‘But what happens?’ I wonder aloud. ‘What happens when we die?’

‘I think we live on,’ Daisy says carefully. ‘We live on in people’s memories.’

Hm. It doesn’t sound that bad.

‘What do you think, Cal?’

‘Um…’ he shrugs, slowing down in pace. We’re nearing his street. ‘I dunno, to be honest. I’d like to think there’s something…’

We all stop at the ‘Sandbury Close’ sign. Callum is clearly uncomfortable.

‘See you later, Cal. Thanks for earlier,’ I say before things can get any more awkward. He says goodbye and then me and Daisy continue on. Callum’s one of my oldest—actually, the oldest—friend I have. We’ve been friends since we wore nappies! But I’ve always known this is something he’s not great at: getting all deep and meaningful. When I told him about Jenna’s announcement in the first place, I believe his exact words were, ‘Oh. Yeah. I think about one-in-four people get that now.’ He tries, though. I know he does. And some of us just don’t have the right things to say in these situations. I know just how he feels.

‘I’ve never really thought about it,’ Daisy says. ‘You know, dying. We’re so young. It’s something that doesn’t really affect us. No one speaks about death at fourteen.’

I shrug. ‘I suppose.’

‘I mean, when my granny died,’ Daisy continues, ‘I was eight. Mum and Dad told me she was sleeping forever. I think that’s a nice thought: a nice, long sleep. All your memories and dreams intact.’

I shudder at the thought of my dreams lately. Now’s my chance. Should I tell her? She’ll think I’m weird, sure. But she must know I’m pretty weird by now anyway. Daisy moved to my school halfway through last year and we’ve been close ever since. Lately I’ve been noticing her more: the way she smells, the way little wisps of her red curls escape from her plaits. The way she doesn’t feel the cold but likes wearing a hat.

‘Anyway. What are your plans for tonight?’

‘Nada,’ I answer, snapping back to reality. ‘Catch up on homework I guess. Sit in silence around the dinner table. Pretend to ignore Jenna’s cancer.’ Daisy laughs at this and, despite myself, I smile with her.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

I head on, dreading getting home now. Mum will surely be in the kitchen already; probably has been since lunch time. Hopefully Dad will be at the pub, or in his man cave. I still don’t understand why a forty-something-year-old deserves a bloody ‘man cave’ but at least it keeps him out of my way.

‘Hi Mum!’ I call, shutting the door behind me as I enter the hell-hole. Roscoe, as usual, doesn’t arrive to greet me until I’ve already taken my shoes and coat off. He gives my ankle a lick and then falls to the floor for a belly-rub.

‘Hi Alex.’ Mum’s in the hallway. Her voice is thick and she’s holding a tissue.

‘What’s wrong?’ I straighten up immediately. Roscoe nudges my foot with his head.

‘Come and sit down, darling. I’ll make you a cup of tea.’ She shoots into the kitchen before I can ask any more questions. Half-intrigued, half-not wanting to know, I walk into the living room to find Jenna, Kent and Dad on the sofa. Great. Things must be serious if Dad’s not glugging beer at 4 pm on the dot.

‘What’s going on?’ I ask slowly, taking the chair opposite. As usual, the room looks unlived-in; Mum’s cleaned it so thoroughly you wouldn’t even know we had a dog. I wonder briefly where she’s hidden Roscoe’s toys and if he’s at all happy about this new arrangement.

‘You’re home late,’ Dad says gruffly. I ignore him and steal a glance at Jenna instead. She’s staring into space, her eyes puffy. I have a sudden urge to get up and leave. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want any more news.

‘Here you are, lovely.’ Mum’s come in with a cup of tea and places it down on the coffee table beside me. She swallows hard. No one says anything.

‘Why does no one ever just say anything?’ I think aloud, my frustration rising. Look at them, all sat there, sad and smug. Let’s keep another secret from Alex. Let’s all be weird and quiet and not actually let him know what’s going on.

‘Alex,’ Kent begins as no one else speaks. ‘Jenna…’

‘As you well know,’ Dad interrupts Kent loudly, ‘your sister went for a scan today. And it seems things are… worse than we anticipated.’

My heart skips. How much worse? Mum, who had perched herself on the arm of my chair, makes a small animal-like noise and leaves the room.

‘Worse?’ I echo.

‘Worse,’ confirms Dad. I take a minute to digest. Okay, worse. Well, we already knew she has ovarian cancer, stage 3b. Does ‘worse’ mean moving up to 3c? Does ‘worse’ mean it’s spread somewhere else?

‘I have to have an operation. And chemo,’ Jenna speaks suddenly. ‘I didn’t want it before. I’ve been putting it off. I don’t want it now, still, really. It makes your hair fall out. And it can make you sick. But I have to have it now. Now is the time.’

‘Now is the time?’ I echo again. ‘Why? Why is now the time?’

No one replies again and I feel my breath catch. Worse. Operation. Chemotherapy. The words are on a loop in my brain. I remember coming across the chemo aspect when I googled ovarian cancer. I try and remember what I’d found but I can’t. My mind’s drawing a blank. No one’s saying anything. Are we done here? I get up.

‘Where are you going?’ Dad asks in a voice that would normally make me sit back down.

But I don’t sit down.

‘Aren’t we done? No one’s saying anything,’ I reply, matching his tone.

‘Look, Alex, this is awful news,’ says Kent. ‘Crappy, horrible, awful news. But your sister’s a fighter. And with us all by her side, she can get through anything.’ He takes a deep breath, as if he’s going to say more, but he doesn’t. I don’t think he can.

Dad’s looking like he’d rather Kent shut his mouth anyway. I know what he was trying to say. I get that he wants me—everyone—to feel better about it. And he’s right, we all need to be there for her. I’m going to be there for her. But…

‘Being by her side won’t get rid of the cancer,’ I snap.

Before he can answer I leave the room and stand in the hallway, taking a moment to try and focus. I need to get out. I need to be on my own, away from these idiots. These secret-keepers, these liars. Traitors, the bloody lot of them. I clip Roscoe onto his lead and pull on my shoes, slamming the door behind me. I hope they all feel the anger in that slam. I hope they all feel bad.

It’s dark, pretty much pitch black, when I get back home. I went for a long, winding walk down by the river. I forgot my coat and my hands were practically blue by the end of it.

‘Where have you been?’ Mum demands as soon as I slide my shoes off. Here we go.

‘Just taking Roscoe out.’

‘You’ve been gone almost an hour! And not answering your phone! You had me worried sick, Al!’ She folds her arms.

Then I do something that surprises even me: I pull her in for a hug. I’m not sure why. Maybe I just need some human contact. Maybe it’s my way of apologising. She hugs back, tightly.

‘What’s for dinner?’ I change the subject, letting Mum go.

‘I didn’t cook tonight. We’ve all been… a bit preoccupied.’ She chooses her words carefully. ‘I thought we could order in. Jenna fancies an Indian.’

‘Sounds good.’ I hide the shock in my voice. Mum, not cooking? The thought of a rich balti and greasy onion bhajis make my stomach rumble.

‘Great. I’ll call them now.’ As she gets the phone I start heading upstairs. ‘Al?’ she suddenly calls from the kitchen.

‘Yeah?’

‘I love you.’

I rub my freezing hands together and jump up the last few steps. ‘Love you too.’