Kaleidoscope

[Bee]

nice update Sophie (: cant wait for more!

[sophie]

Thanks - Happy New Year!

“Late night last night?” asked Mr Wheezer, his eyebrows raised, as India began her shift with a loud yawn.

“Oh, I was just at a party.”

“Out all hours, I expect,” said Mr Wheezer, stacking the shelves.

“Only until eleven, actually,” said India, getting some packets of pasta out of a delivery box.

“All right,” said Mr Wheezer but he raised his eyebrows in a rather disbelieving way and India sighed and got back to work. She hadn’t slept well when she had got back, especially as she and Declan had had an argument.

“I can’t believe you lost your jumper, you’re old enough to look after your things. And you said you wouldn’t take it off!”

“It was hot!” protested India. “What’s the big deal? I can get it back!”

Declan had paused and then asked,
“Who was that boy?”

“I don’t know,” India had said, feeling very tired.

“You don’t know? You were talking to him.”

“I know his name’s Elliot,” India had said, going to the kitchen to pour herself some water, Declan following her. “And I know he’s nineteen.”

“Nineteen?!”

“He was just a guest at the party!” exclaimed India. “And he was really nice!”

“I’ll bet,” said Declan rather suspiciously.

“Oh, Dad, it wasn’t anything like that. And anyway, he helped me out when this guy was trying to grope me –“ India caught herself too late. She had planned on not telling Declan about that.

“What?!” exclaimed Declan. “Who groped you?!”

“He tried to, he didn’t though. He was dancing with me and he wanted to take it further but I said no. He wasn’t listening and then Elliot came and made him back off.”

“What do you mean, he wasn’t listening?” echoed Declan. “Did he do something to you?”

“No!”

“India, you can tell me if he did.”

“He didn’t, I promise. He just tried to grope me a bit and then he held my hands, but then Elliot pushed him off. He didn’t kiss me or anything. Jye, I mean – but neither did Elliot,” India had added quickly.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Declan had growled. “What was his name?”

“Jye, I don’t know anything else. It’s fine, Dad, really.”

“It’s not fine! He can’t get away with that! Go and get me the list of people who went!”

“Dad, there were heaps of people there,” India protested. “He could have been someone’s friend or – I don’t know. This is why I didn't want to tell you, because you'd get so upset and react like this. But it’s okay. It was horrible but nothing happened, I promise. I’d tell you.”

Declan had looked into his daughter’s earnest eyes, slightly smudged from where she had absentmindedly rubbed her eye makeup, and the fight went out of him slightly. He felt horribly helpless, like after Didge had been lost at the formal, and it was the same feeling – but Indy was okay, he’d thought quickly. That...scum hadn’t done anything to her. Thank God and that was all that mattered.

“All right,” he had said quietly. “I’ll leave it for now. I'm glad you did tell me. I’m sorry that happened – are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” said India, yawning a little. “I’m just really tired. I’m going to go to bed.”

“Goodnight then,” Declan had said and pulled her towards him for a hug, but when she had kissed him goodnight he smelt her breath and his annoyance from before came flooding back.

“Have you been drinking?”

India’s guilty expression said it all as she looked to her side and opened her mouth slightly. Didge had looked the same if she'd been hiding something.

“INDIA!”

“You didn’t say I couldn’t,” India had said defensively.

“I said I’d rather you didn't drink at all!”

“No, you said don’t get drunk!” India had protested, a look of frustration in her eyes. “I’m not drunk!”

“Well, you don’t look completely sober,” Declan had snapped. “What did you drink?”

“Just some vodka and lemonade! And....a shot of tequila,” India muttered quickly and Declan exploded.

“Shots of tequila?!”

“It wasn’t that much alcohol,” India had snapped, as Declan began pacing around. “You should have seen what everyone else was drinking!”

“I’d rather not, thanks all the same,” Declan had snapped back, and then used the age-old parental putdown of: “If everyone jumped off a cliff would you do the same?”

“Oh, Dad that’s ridiculous,” exclaimed India, her hands on her hips. “You know it is! Drinking some alcohol is nowhere close to jumping off a cliff and me drinking two alcohol drinks is nowhere near the same as downing three bottles of beer and five shots after that!”

Declan didn’t want to admit that his daughter had a point, so side-stepped it.

“That’s not the point,” he’d said irritably. “And besides, a shot of something is stronger than just a mixer, it gets you drunk quickly.”

“One shot doesn’t!”

“And you have work in the morning so you shouldn’t be drinking at parties anyway,” Declan had said, ignoring his daughter’s sigh. “It’s not like you. And neither’s sitting outside with a nineteen-year-old boy whom you barely know!”

India had had enough.

“Loosen up, Dad!” she had snapped. “It was a teenage party and I’m a teenager! I was bloody wellbehaved –“

“Don’t swear at me!”

“I had one drink and one shot, that’s nothing! I wasn’t driving anywhere and I’m nowhere near drunk anyway and it’s not even midnight! And I was just talking to him, believe it or not! Don’t worry, I don’t get off with people for thanking them for helping me out, even if that’s what you think of me! Goodnight!”

“Oh – India!” Declan had shouted, but India was already stamping into her room and slamming the door. He’d sighed and rubbed his eyes and considered going after her to make up, but still felt annoyed with her, even if maybe he had stuffed it up slightly. But he wasn’t sorry, he’d thought irritably, going back into the kitchen to get some water himself. He wasn’t sorry that he didn’t like that she had drunk alcohol, even if it hadn’t been very much, and, okay, maybe he shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions about the boy she was talking to, but no father would like the idea of a nineteen –year-old chatting to his sixteen-year-old daughter in a garden where they were by themselves. And she definitely should not have talked to him like that. No, Declan had no more energy for talking to badtempered teenagers that night – but he did have the energy to go severely hurt whoever that Jye was with a baseball bat, he’d thought grimly, going to his room with his water. Even if nothing had happened he still wanted to teach him a lesson.
India had got ready for bed in a furious mood, ignoring the prickling of her conscience that she shouldn’t have flown off the handle – and probably not sworn at her father either. But how was she supposed to have responded, she asked herself defensively. All she had done was drink a tiny amount of alcohol, which nearly everyone does, and lost her jumper. And talking to someone for helping her out, she hadn’t done anything wrong there and – India felt herself got angry again – her dad had had no right to hint that they had been up to anything else. India had standards! She’d got into bed, feeling exhausted, but then her anger woke her up and she lay tossing and turning until morning, thinking about the party, and about horrible Jye, and about how Elliot had helped her out and about how kind he had been, and she eventually fell asleep at five, only to get up three hours later and feeling like hell, with a taste of tequila at the back of her throat again. And then she had had work with Mr Wheezer cracking jokes about too much grog and too much fun – India half thought she’d rather have the eight hours from last week again where she had felt better and had been left alone. She sighed with relief as she left the shop, and began wandering home when suddenly her mobile began to ring.

“Hello?” she asked, puzzled. It was an unknown number.

“India?” came an unsure voice. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” said India cautiously.

“Oh – great! It’s Elliot from the party – I don’t know if you remember?”

“Of course I remember!” exclaimed India, her heart beginning to thump excitedly. “How did you get my number?”

“Your friend gave it to me after you left – the one with all the blonde hair.”

“Lydia!”

“Yeah, that was her. I just wanted to make sure you were okay – you know, after that jerk at the party and you acted like your dad would be cross.”

“Yeah,” said India, biting her lip. “He wasn’t in the best mood.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“I can handle him. I’m fine, anyway. Thanks for calling.”

“It’s okay.”

There was a long pause. He seemed to wait for something. India waited too, stopping at the corner of her road.

“So, I wondered if you wanted to carry on the conversation,” he said in a rush. “Because I liked talking to you and it wasn’t for very long.”

India opened her mouth and then grinned to herself, feeling very glad that no one was there to see her.

“I’d love to,” she said, beginning to walk again.

“Great,” he said, sounding relieved. “How about next Friday? Do you have plans?”

“No.”

“I can see your for a sundae or something? Say about eight?”

“That’s great. Eight’s great – oh, that sounded dumb. I didn’t mean to make a rhyme.”

India felt like a moron.

He laughed.

“I’ll bet. See you then?”

“See you!” said India gleefully, and then saw her father come out of the house.

“Bye!”

“Bye!”

She hung up the phone and walked towards Declan, who was looking a little sheepish. She felt the same.

“Sorry,” they both said together and then grinned, both feeling ashamed.

“You go,” said India.

“Indy, I’m sorry I got so cross and I didn’t mean to imply anything about you and that guy.”

“I know.”

“But you still didn’t have any right to talk to me like that.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have any right to act like I’d done something terrible!” protested India. “Dad, I’m sorry – I’m sorry I flew off the handle and I’m sorry I was rude, but you didn’t have to yell at me for nothing.”

“I’m not sorry that I don’t like you drinking,” said Declan sternly. “Even if I didn’t exactly ban it. But I am sorry that I got so mad about your jumper and about you talking to that guy.”

“I’m sorry I was rude,” said India and they both grinned sheepishly and then awkwardly hugged.

“You’ve got to make excuses for me sometimes,” said Declan, grinning. “If I see a nineteen-year-old talking to my sixteen-year-old I instantly want to kill him, even he is the nicest guy on the planet.”

“Oh?” asked India nervously.

“That’s part of the dad handbook. Who were you on the phone to, anyway?”

“Oh...just Allie. She wanted to double-check about some homework.”

The lie slipped out without India even knowing why she had said it. Well, she did know why she had said it, but now she was starting to regret it, only it didn’t seem the right moment to correct it, not when she and her father had just made up.

“That’s my girl,” said Declan, putting an arm around India. “Genius daughter!”

“Oh,” sighed India, as they headed inside, her phone still hot in her hand, “ I'm really not that clever!”

[Bee]

aww secret relationship? ahh Declan is so overprotective of Indy!

great update

cant wait for more!!

[sophie]

hanks!


India was reading on her bed the following afternoon when she heard a knock at the door. She half-got up but then heard her father go to answer it, and snuggled back down, tuning out the conversation, as she expected that it would only be someone trying to sell something, so it was a surprise when a short while later her door burst open, making her jump. It was Lydia, looking flushed and grinning and in her hands she held India’s jumper.

“What are you doing here?” asked India, putting the book down and Lydia shut the door and ran over.

“Hello to you too!” she said, tossing the jumper to India. “Come on then, tell me everything!”

“I can’t believe you gave him my number,” said India in a lowered voice, very aware that her father could overhear them. Lydia gave her a small punch.

“Ow!” exclaimed India, rubbing it. “What was that for?”

“Some gratitude!” exclaimed Lydia, rolling her eyes. “I was doing you a favour! He’s hot and nice – I knew you weren’t just talking to him in the garden!”

“I was, thank you very much,” said India hotly.

“How old is he?”

“Nineteen.”

“Nineteen?!” shrieked Lydia and India had to stop herself from putting her hand over her friend’s mouth.

“Lydia, keep your voice down, Dad’s in the house!”

“He’ll have to get used to it if you go out. Has he rung you yet?”

“He rung me yesterday,” said India, feeling herself smile and Lydia grinned.

“I told me to and what time you finished work. You’re welcome!”

“Lydia!” exclaimed India, but she couldn’t help feeling pleased. “What else did you tell him?”

“Nothing, I swear," Lydia said, not sounding entirely truthful. "So, did he ask you out?”

“Yeah. We’re going for a sundae on Friday night.”

“This is so exciting!” squeaked Lydia and then added, “I told him you’d say yes.”

“Well, thanks,” laughed India, who normally felt annoyed with her for meddling, but chose to make an exception this time.

“I should write one of those lonely hearts columns,” said Lydia. “I’d find perfect matches for everyone.”

“Excuse me, I’m not a lonely heart. And besides, you don’t set the people up – they send in letters and then the readers decide who they want to write back to. And he might not be a perfect match – I’ve only spoken to him a couple of times and it was only for five minutes.”

“You’ll get to know him,” said Lydia, a twinkle in her eye but then she caught sight of the time on India’s clock and groaned.

“What?”

“I’ve got to go – Sunday lunch.”

“We’ve got one too,” said India, getting up to walk her to the door. “My grandma’ll be here soon. Thanks for the jumper.”

“You’re welcome,” said Lydia, and, as she caught sight of Declan in the kitchen, whispered, “and for helping out!”

“Goodbye,” said India sternly and she laughed again and left. Declan appeared at his daughter’s shoulder.

“What did she help you out about?”

“Oh – just the lift to the party.”

“Oh, okay. Indy, will you come and chop some carrots?”

India went and chopped carrots, feeling guilty as her father smiled at her and ruffled her hair, but she didn’t know how to tell him she had lied. In all honesty, she knew she was being cowardly, but how could she just blurt it out? she asked herself uneasily, and the knock on the door saved her from going to acknowledge that she was making excuses as she went to answer it.

“Hello!” cried Rebecca as India opened the door. “Give me a kiss! How was the party?”

“Not too bad,” said India, leading her to the kitchen.

“Glad you went?”

“Yeah,” admitted India, giving her an awkward smile. “It was sort of fun, in the end.”

“I’m glad you went,” said Rebecca, as they came in, and Declan couldn’t help adding,
“Even if it was full of perverts?”

“What?” asked Rebecca, frowning, and India had to explain. Rebecca gave her a hug.

“And you’re sure nothing else happened?” she asked gently. “I know you must have been scared.”

“I’m okay. Nothing happened.”

“You can tell us.”

“No, nothing,” insisted India. “I promise. Please can we drop it now? I don’t want to think about it.”

Rebecca exchanged a glance with Declan and then she sighed.

“All right.”

“I’d tell you,” insisted India, as she went to get the plates and Rebecca decided to believe her. They sat down and India told her about the rest of the party, and about Elliot who had talked to her until Declan had come to pick her up and Declan looked annoyed, stabbing some meat onto his fork.

“What’s wrong with you?” asked Rebecca and he shrugged.

“Dad can’t get past the fact that he’s nineteen,” sighed India and Rebecca raised her eyebrows and said,
“Ah.”

“Look, nothing happened,” insisted India, to her dad, yet Rebecca thought she sounded guilty in her tone. “You know it didn’t.”

“Yes, I know,” said Declan in a tired voice. “I know I’m overreacting and I know you’ll never see him again.”

“Mm,” said India and though she didn’t realise it, Rebecca caught a glimpse of her face. Her granddaughter was biting her lip and tugging slightly at a lock of hair, a sure sign that she wasn’t telling the full story and Rebecca was confused, thinking that it was unlike India to be pashing a boy she barely knew and then to lie about it. She wondered but knew she couldn’t ask at the table, and felt that India changed the subject rather too hastily as well, she thought.

“I’m afraid I can’t stay for coffee, guys,” said Rebecca regretfully and Declan was disappointed.

“How come?”

“I have to do a double-shift at Charlie’s,” she said apologetically. “Someone’s fallen ill. I’ll stay longer next week.”

They finished their first course and when India went to get the desserts Rebecca followed her to give her a hand.

“Did something happen at the party?” she asked and India looked shocked.

“No!”

“Did something happen with the boy? With Elliot?”

“No,” said India, but she had a guilty look in her eyes.

“Do you want to tell me something?” asked Rebecca. “If something did happen I won’t be angry with you.”

“Nothing happened,” said India crossly, grabbing a bowl. “I was talking to him for five minutes, that was it! We weren't pashing!”

“India, are you sure there isn’t more to this?”

“Yes,” said India, her hair hiding her face, but before Rebecca could push it Declan called,
“Hey, is this dessert ever coming?” and Rebecca sighed, and decided to leave it, but she carried on wondering, as India remained quiet for the rest of dinner and Rebecca wished that she did not have to leave early.

Guilt carried on burning in India’s stomach right through on Monday. She had never lied to her grandmother before and felt like a terrible person, even though she tried to tell herself that it hadn’t really been lying, just not telling the full story, but India knew it was really the same. She knew that if Rebecca had pressed it she would probably have given in and told her, and India partly wished that she had, but she just couldn’t, not with Dad in the next room. Lydia interrupted her chain of thought by suddenly sitting down next to her, looking glamorous even in her school dress, something India knew she could never achieve.

“You look worried.”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you know what you’re going to wear?”

“Oh – no.”

That was an angle India hadn’t even considered yet.

“You should start thinking about it,” said Lydia bossily. “It’s your first big date, you’ve got to look good!”

“I know, Lydia,” said India through gritted teeth. The conversation wasn’t helping the knotted feeling in her stomach.

“I mean, what he tries to kiss you?” continued Lydia, not listening, and Jamie Adler, who had been reading a magazine by a tree, overheard and looked up.

“Lydia, I’ll be fine,” said India, sounding confident, but feeling like a bowl of jelly. “It’s not until Friday anyway.”

“You have to start planning now,” she said, in the fashion of a teacher. “What did your dad say?”

India was silent and Lydia exclaimed,
“You haven’t told him, have you?”

“What do you think?”

“India Napier, I’m shocked.”

“No, you’re not. You know my dad.”

“I can’t believe you had the guts. I’m going to the toilet before the bell,” she said, and flounced away, leaving India feeling more nervous than ever. Her last official date had been when she was twelve years old with Jamie, for God’s sake, and she’d just gone in her school dress. They’d just been kids. They’d kissed, but it had just been an awkward, childish thing and India had never kissed anyone since and besides, that longago kiss with Jamie had only been on the lips. What if she did kiss Elliot and he wanted to French kiss and she spat on him or something, or their teeth knocked? India didn’t have a clue and barely noticed her first and last boyfriend, if he could be called that, sit down next to her.

“Who are you going out with?” he asked, making her jump.

“Do you have to sneak up on me like that?”

“I wasn’t sneaking, you were just daydreaming, as usual. So come on. Who’s the guy?”

“Just someone,” said India irritably.

“Who?”

“Someone I met at the party. It’s just a sundae.”

“Oh, whatever. It’s never just a sundae.”

“Jamie, you sound like someone who writes for a cheap women’s magazine,” snapped India, whose nerves were on edge.

“Pardon me for stating the facts. So who is it?”

“His name’s Elliot,” said India, ignoring his previous remark. “He doesn’t go to school and he’s nineteen.”

“Nineteen?” exclaimed Jamie, like Lydia had, only he didn’t sound very excited about it. “That’s way too old!”

“No it’s not, and anyway, it’s not up for you to decide!”

“Does he know how old you are?”

“Yes.”

“Have fun,” said Jamie, sounding annoyed. “Though I bet your dad kills you when he finds out!”

"Who says he will?"

"He found out last time, remember?"

“We were kids," snapped India, not liking being reminded of that. "And anyway...what’s it to you?” she asked and he shifted.

“Nothing,” he said, and then added, “I just don’t reckon some stranger is worth five weeks grounding.”

India felt annoyed.

“I’ll tell you something I do know about him,” she snapped, “he was nice and polite, which is more than I can say for you!”

“I bet he was just trying to get you to like him for something in return,” said Jamie spitefully and India was furious.

“Why, because it’s so inconceivable that someone might like me? I wouldn’t worry, he’s more mature than you and I bet he won’t ditch me for someone like Stephanie the next day!”

India stormed off, ignoring Jamie’s shout of,

“Come on, we were twelve!”

[sophie]

The next few days hurried by and on Thursday India finally gave in to what she had worried about all week and grabbed Lydia’s arm.

“I don’t have a clue on what to wear,” she said desperately. “Please help me out.”

India had never seen Lydia’s face light up that way before.

“I always hoped this day would come,” she said, sighing, sounding like a cheesy movie.

“Will you help then?” asked India bluntly, not wanting to get soppy.

“Of course! Come to my house after dinner and bring all your clothes.”

“Thanks,” said India gratefully, feeling some of the weight roll off. “You’re a star.”

“I know,” said Lydia smugly. “I’ll make you look magical!”

India bit back her retort, knowing that she should keep Lydia in a good mood, and when she caught Jamie staring moodily at her she ignored him and deliberately giggled with her friend until he looked away.

“Don’t work too hard,” called Declan as India threw some books into her bag on Friday night, her clothes already hidden in her rucksack.

“I won’t,” she called back, trying to push away the burning, guilty feeling. She couldn’t tell him now.

“And be back by ten!”

“I will!”

India zipped up the bag and just in time as Declan appeared in the doorway and smiled at her.

“Make some time for a dumb movie or something too,” he said. “I’m very proud of you for working so hard but you need to kick back as well. Indy? What is it?” he asked, frowning in concern. “You look like you’re about to cry!”

“No, I’m fine!” scoffed India, quickly smiling, ignoring the part of her which was screaming to tell the truth. If she did she knew she wouldn’t be allowed to go.

“All right,” said Declan, still frowning. “If you want to come home early give me a call – or I could call you?”

“Don’t do that,” said India quickly, and gave her dad a hug. “I’m fine, I promise. I’ve got to go now, I said I’d be there for seven.”

“Have a good time then,” said Declan, cupping her face briefly in his hand. “I’ll see you later!”

“Not much of a choice,” remarked Lydia, as India emptied all of her clothes onto the bed. “None of it’s very feminine.”

“I don’t like feminine stuff,” said India irritably. “And look, I know it’s a date, but I’m not wearing a dress or a skirt.”

“Oh, come on Indy, branch out!”

“I’ll feel awkward. I’ll wear one of your tops, but nothing pink.”

“Oh, fine. How about this?” asked Lydia, pulling out a purple shirt and India tugged it on.

“It’s a bit tight!” she said when she looked in the mirror and Lydia rolled her eyes.

“That’s the point!”

“I feel naked in it!” said India, quickly taking it off. “How about this?”

“That?” asked Lydia unsurely. It was a brown shirt patterned with leaves and silhouettes of birds and she had forgotten that she had it. It had been a present which she had pushed to the back of the wardrobe.

“I like it,” said India, when she had it on. “It’s a bit tight, but not too bad.”

“You look nice,” admitted Lydia. “It makes your boobs look good as well.”

“My chest is tiny,” said India, blushing. Lydia always spoke her mind.

“It still makes it look good. Where’s your makeup? That’s it?” she exploded as India tipped out a tube of mascara and black eyeliner.

“I barely wear it!”

“Sit down, India Napier,” said Lydia firmly, rummaging in her own drawer. “I’m changing that tonight!”

Fifteen minutes later and Lydia finally put a mirror in front of India’s face. Her eyes boggled. Lydia had outlined her eyes in black eyeliner and India had no idea how much mascara she had applied, but she knew it had to be fifty times the amount she ever, rarely used, as her eyelashes with the colour of coal and fifty times longer too. Lydia had also used copious amounts of foundation and possibly some blusher – India had lost track after a while.

“Well?” asked Lydia impatiently.

“It’s...wow.”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s not really me,” said India truthfully and Lydia gave an impatient sigh.

“Yes, it is – it’s just some makeup! Think of it as enhancing what you’ve already got.”

“How much foundation did you use?” asked India gingerly, touching her cheek and Lydia took her hand away.

“Don’t mess it up. I didn’t use that much and anyway, what does it matter? Do you like it or not?”

“Yes,” said India truthfully, and she smiled. “Thanks, Lydia. And thanks for helping me out with the clothes and everything as well – you’re ace. I probably would have ended up looking like a clown.”

“It’s fine,” said Lydia, sounding shy for a rare moment in her life. “You look gorgeous; he’ll be blown away.”

“I don’t know about that,” said India, putting the mirror down.

“I guess you should go soon,” said Lydia glancing at the clock and India felt herself panic.

“What?”

“Oh God, I don’t want to go.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know what to say,” said India in a wobbly voice. “I won’t know what to talk about.”

“Look, don’t worry about it. Let him start the conversation.”

“What if he wants me to start the conversation?"

“He won’t. If you’re really stuck, ask about what music he likes or something. You can’t go wrong there.”

“Okay,” said India, but she still stared down at her legs.

“What’s wrong now?”

“Lydia...what if he tries to kiss me?”

“Kiss him back,” said Lydia, sounding confused. “If you want to. And if you don’t want to, don’t. Don’t you want to?”

“I don’t know,” said India, panicked again. “What if he does kiss me and I spit at him? Oh, Lydia, don’t laugh at me!” she exclaimed as her friend started giggling. “I haven’t kissed anyone since I was twelve and that barely counted.”

“You’ll be fine. Kissing’s fine.”

“Easy for you to say,” said India glumly.

“Stop stressing,” said Lydia sternly. “And go for before you lose your nerve. If it goes badly, so what? You’ll never have to see him again.”

“You’re right,” admitted India, and she picked up her bag and stood up. “Thanks, Lydia. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“I won’t hold you to that,” said Lydia, grinning, and India gave her a shove. Then Lydia walked her to the front door and gave her a small push as she hesitated.

“Stop overthinking it!” she exclaimed. “Now just go!”

“You’re so sympathetic,” said India sarcastically, but she took a deep breath and headed to the cafe, fearful the whole time that she might bump into her father whenever she turned a corner. She didn’t though, and when she got to the cafe Elliot was already sitting there, smiling. She smiled back shyly, took off her jacket and slid into the seat opposite.

“Hey,” he said. “Wow – you look amazing!”

“Thanks,” said India, blushing, looking down for a moment before catching herself and looking up quickly again.

"My friend went a bit crazy with the makeup," she added jokily and then could have kicked herself. Now he must think that she couldn't dress herself or something but he only said,
"It looks nice."

"Thanks," said India again. She hesitated and then asked quickly,
“How are you?” to break the ice.

“Not too bad. I’ve been applying to places all day.”

“What kind of places?” asked India, after ordering a strawberry milkshake (Elliot chose chocolate).

“Art schools,” he told her, as the waitress walked away with their orders.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah – it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. It was the only thing I really loved in school. My family think I’m crazy, they’re all into science. What about you? What do you want to do?”

“English,” said India automatically. “Everyone thinks I’m crazy too – my mum was going to go for medicine and my dad just didn’t like school.”

“What do they do now?”

“My dad works for a publishing company.”

“How about your mum?”

India hesitated briefly and then said,
“My mum died.”

“Oh,” he said awkwardly. He looked terrible. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” said India quickly. “Well, obviously it’s not okay that she died, but you don’t have to feel sorry for me. It was when I was a baby.”

“Oh,” he said again but he still looked very sad. The waitress brought their drinks over and India hastily took the opportunity to drink some of her milkshake. What a mood killer. Lydia wanted to know how she could ruin a first date and she had her answer.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, when she finished drinking some of the shake. “I didn’t mean to make you feel upset.”

“It’s okay,” he said quickly.

“No, it’s not the nicest thing for me tell you straight away, I should have thought.”

“India, it’s okay, really. And even if it was when you were a baby, I’m still sorry it happened.”

India smiled at him. Normally she hated it when people pitied her for her mother dying, calling her a poor girl with a tragic loss – India couldn’t stand being pitied. She did miss her mother but that was personal and it was no one’s business about how she felt about it, but she didn’t mind him being sorry. He wasn’t pitying her like other people did. He was only saying it was sad – and it was.

“You don’t have to call me India.”

“What, you have some other name?”

“My friends call me Indy,” she said. “And my dad and grandma – not so much my other grandmother though, she’s more formal. She calls my India most of the time.”

“All right then – Indy. So is it just you and your dad?”

“Yeah,” said India, drinking some more of her shake. “I see my grandma all the time though, she’s like another mum. The one who calls me Indy, I mean – my other grandparents live in Queensland. What about you? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“One older brother and two little sisters,” he told her.

“Big family!”

“Tell me about it,” he said wrinkling his nose. “They’re okay most of time, I guess, but you can never get away to paint or draw, unless Maddie or Leah want to me paint something for them – they’re eight and ten,” he added, after seeing India’s quizzical look. “I know. Big age gap. They were surprises – that’s what my mum told them anyway,” he said and India chuckled.

“I was a hell of a surprise,” India told him. “My mum and dad were only seventeen and eighteen when I was born.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

There was another awkward pause and then India said in a rushed voice,
“So what kind of music do you like?”

He laughed a little, sounding surprised and India blushed.

“Sorry, that was random.”

“No, it’s fine. I like talking about music.”

They began swapping bands and favourite songs and then gradually began to relax, discussing their favourite shows and movies when India, still laughing, suddenly caught of sight of the clock. The time it told her made her sober up instantly.

“I’ve got to go,” she said apologetically, pulling out her purse.

“Really?” asked Elliot, surprised. “Hey, I’ll get the drinks.”

“You don’t have to do that!”

“It was my invite, I want to. Do you really have to go now?”

“I said I’d be an hour,” said India, pulling her jacket back on. “It’s been nearly two! I have to get back to my friend’s house, that’s how long I said I’d be.”

“So why can’t you text her? Do you have plans?”

“No, it’s – I have to get back home at a certain time or my dad will wonder where I am.”

“Wait a minute, I thought you were going to your friend’s?” he asked, confused.

“I am, I said I'd go home for ten, I told my dad –“ India bit her lip and Elliot looked a little surprised.

“Did you lie to him or something?”

“Look, my dad’s always been weird about boyfriends. He wouldn’t have let me come.”

“Is he really strict or something?”

“Not really,” said India, as he paid for the drinks and they left the cafe. “Just when it comes to guys. Look, my dad is bad enough about ones my own age, he’d flip if I said I was going on a date with a nineteen-year-old. He was freaking out when he saw us talking at the party.”

“Oh.”

“Look, my dad and I are really close,” said India desperately, looking at him. “Most of the time. I hate it when we fight and I know it was a bit off of me but I really wanted to see you again. My dad’s great, but there’s no chance in hell that he’d let me see you, not if you’re nineteen. I just wanted everyone to be happy and I did want to see you again. I really liked talking to you at the party.”

There was another silence and this time India stared at the ground, scuffing her feet.

“You must think I’m a real freak,” she said miserably.

“I don’t think you’re a freak,” he said finally. “Come on, I’ll walk you back.”

India smiled in relief and they walked back, a silence falling again, but it was a companionable silence; not the awkward one of before and it was pleasant walking back to Lydia’s road.

“You’d better stop here,” said India eventually, when they reached the corner. “Her mum might see us and tell my dad.”

“All right,” he said and they paused again. India felt her heart rate up.

“I had a great time,” she said quickly.

“Me too.”

There was another pause and just as India was deciding to say goodnight and go, he grinned.
“What?”

“I wasn’t being completely truthful before.”

“Oh yes?”

“I do think you’re weird,” he told her, “but in a really good way.”

“Thanks,” said India, starting to laugh, but then he pulled her near to him, she shut her eyes, and they began to kiss.

[sophie]

"You've been ages!" exclaimed Lydia as she opened the door for India, hurrying her inside. "I knew you'd be longer than an hour. You're so lucky Mum went out. I told her you left something at the library and had to go back for it, but she wouldn't have bought it taking you that long."

"What time is it?" asked India, as they went into her room.

"Quarter past ten."

"Quarter past ten?!" echoed India in horror. She knew she'd been pushing it for ten o'clock, but didn't realise she'd been kissing that long, though, to be fair, she had not been paying much attention to the time.

"Dad's going to kill me," she said frantically, pulling her borrowed shirt off. "Thanks for the shirt."

"You can keep it."

"Really?" echoed India, stuffing it into her bag and putting her own clothes back on as quickly as she could.

"I never wear it. It looked good on you."

"Thanks," said India, swinging the bag onto her shoulder.

Lydia grinned.

"So, did you kiss him?"

India herself grin as well.

"Yeah..."

Lydia let out a little shriek.

"How was it?"

"Awesome," said India honestly, feeling herself blush.

"Tell me more than that!" exclaimed Lydia in frustration.

"I don't have time," said India apologetically and, then, seeing Lydia's disappointed face added, "I promise I'll tell you everything tomorrow. Thanks for everything, Lydia. I've got to run but I'll call you."

Lydia sighed.

"Oh, okay. You'd better. What are you going to tell your dad?"

"I don't know," said India absentmindedly. "I'll think of something. Bye!"

"Good luck!" called Lydia, as she raced out, and India began hurrying home thinking of how much trouble she'd be in and, as if on cue, her mobile began to ring.

"Where are you?" asked Declan when India answered with an anxious,
"Hello?"

"I'm coming back from Lydia's. Sorry Dad, we were watching a movie and it went on for longer than I thought. I wasn't looking at the clock."

India bit her lip as she walked, glad that her father couldn't see her. He'd be able to tell that she was lying.

"Okay, well you could have called," said Declan grumpily. "I was getting worried. Do you want me to come and pick you up?"

"No, it's fine – I'm practically home now. I'm sorry, Dad, I didn't see the time until it finished."

Well, that was truthful, anyway.

"All right," sighed Declan, they said their goodbyes and India snapped her phone shut, walking as quickly as she could. Her mind was filled with her date, and their kiss, and how it had been awkward at first but then easy, and how she hadn't spat on him or knocked her teeth against his or done anything stupid at all. And how when they had finally stopped kissing they had smiled at each other and he had asked,
"When can I see you again?"

"I don't know," India had said honestly. "Maybe a night after school. It's my birthday on Friday – I'd love you to come but my dad wouldn't."

"I'll see you next week then," he'd said, cupping her face. "Tuesday?"

"Tuesday's fine," said India automatically and they'd stood in silence for a moment until he'd finally said,
"I'll see you then."

"See you."

And then she had smiled and watched him walk away before she had come to her senses and hurried back to her friend's, back to the fact that she was running late and now she ran panting up to the front door but before she could get her key out Declan had opened it.

"Have fun?"

He did not look impressed.

India nodded, still too out of breath to talk, and she stepped inside and took off her jacket.

"I'm sorry if I sounded angry with you," he told her as she hung it up, "but dads worry, you know. I'm glad you watched a movie though. What movie was it?"

"Er..."

"You don't remember?" he asked incredulously .

"It wasn't a very good movie, Dad," said India, turning round. "It was just a generic comedy, you know, one of those typical rom coms. A Lydia movie!"

"Right," he said, unclear to India if he sounded convinced or not, and he frowned.

"Why are you wearing all that makeup?"

India had to stop herself from letting her mouth hang open. Idiot! In all her careful planning, in remembering to bring a change of clothes with others hidden in her bag, thanks to her hurry to change back, she had forgotten to wipe the makeup off.

"Makeup?" she echoed weakly.

"Yes, India, makeup," said Declan in a suspicious voice and India tried not to panic and come clean on the spot.

"You know what Lydia's like," she said, trying hard to think on her feet. "Makeup queen! She insisted on doing a makeover on me."

That was true as well.

"And you agreed?" answered Declan incredulously.

"Lydia got a brand new makeup set for her birthday," said India, which was true as well. "She wouldn't stop talking about it and only promised to stop if I let her put some mascara on me. I didn't know she was going to do the whole works!"

"Right," said Declan, his eyebrows raised and India felt sure that the jig was up and began to steel herself for an interrogation on where she had actually been, but to her surprise it didn't come.

"I'm glad you had a good time," he said again. "Honestly, India, I'd have thought you'd know what you were letting yourself in for when Lydia comes near you with mascara."

"Me too," said India, trying to laugh, but then Declan frowned again.

"How come it's all smudged?"

"Oh...is it?"

"Yes," said Declan suspiciously. "It's all in streaks down your cheeks."

"I rubbed it," said India automatically. "When we were watching the film. I sort of forgot I was wearing it – Lydia was so annoyed! She wouldn't stop talking about how it had taken her half an hour to apply."

"Okay," said Declan, frowning, but then shaking his head. "You women are a mystery to me. I'm watching some footy highlights if you want to join me?"

"No thanks," said India, trying not to look too obviously relieved. "I'm going to bed."

"This early? Really?"

"I'm tired," India said, letting out a big, fake yawn.

"What, from the long movie at Lydia's?"

"I was at school all day too," said India irritably. "And besides, I might do some more reading before bed. We didn't do too much at Lydia's."

"I bet," said Declan, raising his eyebrows again. "Honestly Indy, sometimes I wonder how you can be my daughter – choosing study over footy on a Friday night!"

"I have a lot of work," said India defensively. "So I want to get some done – if that's okay with you?"

Declan held his hands up, looking tired.

"I've got no problem with you studying," he told her. "But I'll never work out how you can enjoy studying so much. Or why you would pick doing that over footy – your mum was big on studying too but even she didn't pass up on footy."

"I recorded the match," India said, leaning up to kiss him goodnight. "I don't want it spoilt."

"All right," said Declan wearily. "Goodnight then."

"Night."

Declan watched her walk away and then went back down to the television, sitting down with a sigh. Teenagers never do work out why they need to keep track of the time, and they never do work out why it's a worry – you never do until you're a parent. Though India was quite good about that normally, he conceded, sipping some beer. It wasn't that much like her, to run late and agree to a lot of makeup, but then, what else would it be? he asked himself India wouldn't lie. No, teenage daughters were just a mystery, he thought firmly, deciding not to think about it anymore, and he, Declan Napier, would never work them out.

India went into her bedroom and leant against the door, letting out a big, long sigh. Talk about a close call. She took off her clothes and changed into her pyjamas, and then hurried to the bathroom where she set to scrubbing off Lydia's makeup, which took well over half an hour. Not much foundation – Lydia could have covered the spot of Jupiter with it. Finally, however, the hundredth wipe she used came back clear and she splashed water over her face, brushed her teeth and slipped back into her room. Unlike what she had said to her father however, India did not study, and instead sat on the bed with her legs tucked up, hugging her knees, and went over and over again the night's events in her mind. She still couldn't quite believe she had got away with it. A little while later India glanced to her side and picked up her mother's photograph.

"Oh Mum," she told her, "I had the most amazing time."

The seventeen-year-old Bridget smiled back, as she always did and always would, but India felt that she was listening all the same.

"I know it's wrong to lie to Dad," she said, in a deliberately lowered voice. "And I am sorry. And I know he's nineteen. But Mum, I had to go. And it was so wonderful."

Bridget still kept on smiling but India still felt that she listened, wherever she was, and she felt that she would have understood as well. No, she didn't feel it – she knew it.

"You know what I mean," she whispered again before finally putting the photo back. India got up to draw the curtains and looked out at the starry night, smiling at it for a moment, before finally closing them and turning the light off, slipping into bed. She closed her eyes and thought of Elliot but in the end her dreams weren't of him, but of her mother, and her continued conversation about him, and of the night, and of how Bridget did not reprimand her but instead understood it all.

[Bee]

great updates Sophie just caught up (:

nice name for Elliot's little sister, Leah haha (: best name in the world i think (:

cant wait for more!!

[sophie]

Thanks!


“You look happy,” commented Mr Wheezer the next day, as India swept the shop. She stopped, embarrassed, realising that she had been smiling.

“It’s just a nice day,” she said lamely, waving her arm towards the window. “Don’t you think it’s a nice day?”

Mr Wheezer stopped stacking the shelves, glanced outside for a moment and then shrugged and said,
“Looks like any other day to me.”

They resumed their work in silence but India still caught herself smiling without meaning to and Mr Wheezer noticed, raised his eyebrows and said,
“Maybe it’s just being young.”

“Maybe,” agreed India, knowing what was coming, and sure enough Mr Wheezer sighed and began telling her a story of his youth, long ago.

“...and there was no such thing as the internet then, you know, or even radio stations aimed at us so we’d hang around a shop if it was playing a song we liked.”

“We still do that.”

“Ah, but it’s not the same, is it? I used to do that with a girl I liked, Ruth Jarvis, have I told you about her before?” Mr Wheezer didn’t wait for an answer and continued, “I used to go down to the creek with her every night, and –“

India was saved from the rest of this story by the jangle of a bell as a customer came in, but after she had left, Mr Wheezer still said to India,
“I wonder where she is now. I think about Ruth still.”

India didn’t know what to say to that so she only smiled but she felt uncomfortable as she left the shop and Mr Wheezer said to her,
“It goes by too quickly you know. You and your sweetheart will know that one day.”

“I don’t have a sweetheart!” exclaimed India, colour rising in her cheeks, but he only winked at her and went in the back room.

India felt rather stunned before coming to her senses and walking home. He didn’t know anything, he was only making a joke – and why shouldn’t he? If he said something to Dad it wouldn’t matter. She began to relax and then remembered her promise to Lydia and so, instead of going straight home, made a detour to her friend’s house. Lydia’s mother let her in and told India she was going to the shops, so India let her past before going to Lydia’s room. She knocked on the door and heard a grouchy,
“I’m studying, okay?”

“It’s me!”

“Oh – come in!”

India found Lydia stretched out on the bed with a magazine guiltily thrown down on the floor next to her but she sat up when India came in.
“I thought you were Mum getting on my case.”

“She’s gone to the shops.”

Lydia sighed happily and made room for India on the bed.

“Come and sit down, for God’s sake. Tell me everything, I’ve been dying all morning.”

“What time did you get up?” asked India, laughing and Lydia shrugged, embarrassed.

“Ten. More like eleven. Okay, more like half past eleven but that’s not the point!” She ignored India’s laughter and grabbed her hand.

“What happened?”

“Oh, you know,” shrugged India. “We went for the sundae...we walked back...we kissed.”

“No, I don’t know,” said Lydia in disgust. “India Napier, that has to be the worst summary of a date in history, and what kind of writer will you be if you describe things like that?”

“One which doesn’t write romance novels.”

Lydia sighed in frustration.

“What did you talk about?”

“Everything, I guess,” said India, wrinkling her nose. “Our mums and dads. School. Uni, maybe. Music and TV and movies, what our favourites are. Lydie, it was really good,” she said honestly. “It didn’t feel like it was so late.”

“That’s always good,” agreed Lydia. “Then what?”

“Then I noticed the time and nearly had a heart attack. He walked me back and then...you know.”

“Stop saying you know,” said Lydia irritably. “I don’t know, do I?”

“You know we kissed.”

“Yeah, but what kind of kissing?”

“Oh, you –“

“Say you know again and I’ll punch you,” warned Lydia. “Just tell me!”

“Well...French kissing,” said India, feeling herself blush a bit. “And it wasn’t bad, actually. I always thought it sounded kind of gross but it wasn’t. And that was all, really. We kissed for a while.”

“I’ll say,” commented Lydia, leaning back. “Wow. And what did your dad say?”

“I nearly got busted. I forgot to wipe the makeup off.”

Lydia stared at her.

“Did you get out of it?”

“Yeah, just. If I hadn’t I wouldn’t be here because Dad would have grounded me for the foreseeable future. I told him you did a massive makeover on me.”

“Nice,” said Lydia approvingly and then they heard the front door open and close and a voice call,
“Lydia! Does India know you have to study?”

“Yes,” called back Lydia irritably. “She’s helping me with some algebra!”

“I don’t think she is, Lydia. I can hear your tone of voice and it’s not a mathematical one. Now get back to work now!”

“I’ll go,” said India quickly, getting up. “I’ll see you on Monday, okay?”

“Okay,” groaned Lydia, rolling over onto her stomach again and as India left the room Lydia’s mother barged in.

“That’s not doing work!”

India quickly left as the argument began and as she shut the front door she could hear the typical shouts of a mother-daughter argument – or rather, a parent-teenager argument, she corrected herself quickly, as she walked away. She’d had some arguments like that with Dad herself, though she could never imagine herself arguing with Bridget.

“Hey,” India called, coming into the house and dropping her bag, and as she walked towards the front door she saw Declan’s hand raise up and wave from behind the sofa.

“That’s a nice way to greet your daughter,” she said, pretending to be annoyed, and sounding like a mother herself.

“Match’s on,” replied Declan, sounding like a teenager.

“And that’s more important, is it?”

“It is when the Rangers are playing. Hey!” as India picked up a cushion and bashed him with it. “What’s with the domestic assault?”

“It’s in protest of neglecting your daughter,” said India in a mock-stern voice and Declan sighed and looked up.

“Okay. How was work?”

“Fine,” said India sunnily, getting up to get a glass of water.

“Fine?” exclaimed Declan as she wandered away. “You made me feel bad about watching the match to say it was fine?”

“It’s fun winding you up.”

India came and sat back down on the spare chair, tucking her feet up.

“Whatever happened to respecting your elders?” grumbled Declan. “Don’t answer that,” as India opened her mouth mischievously. “How’s Lydia?”

“Procrastinating. Arguing with her mum. Her normal self.”

“Does she ever do her homework?”

“She says she’ll do it on Sunday and then ends up copying most of it on Monday. Not from me though,” added India hastily and Declan raised his eyebrows.

“I bet. Oh, that reminds me – Grandma can’t come for Sunday lunch.”

“What?” exclaimed India miserably. “Why? That blows!”

“India, don’t use that expression,” said Declan sternly.

“How come? It does.”

“It’s not nice.”

“Okay, it sucks then, is that better?”

“Infinitely.”

“Why can’t she come?”

“Do you remember someone being sick last week? Well, they’ve got a full-blown virus now.”

“Oh,” said India sadly. “Can’t someone else cover?”

“I don’t know how it works,” said Declan, spreading his hands. “But she’s coming on Tuesday now.”

“Tuesday?” echoed India in a panicked voice.

“Yeah,” said Declan, frowning. “Why?”

“I just want to know what time.”

“Probably about six.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to Lydia’s,” said India automatically. “I’m helping her with some algebra, that’s all, and I wanted to know what time to get back.”

“I see. You seem to have had an awful lot of study evenings lately.”

“I haven’t,” said India defensively, her heart thumping. “Only one. Lydia’s struggling.”

“Don’t let her copy then,” said Declan sternly, and, as India looked annoyed, he added, “I didn’t say from you!”

India went to her room, panicked, and tried to work something out. Maybe she should cancel – it would make things a lot simpler, she decided, relieved. It would make more sense to reschedule, but when she called, he said,
“I can only do Tuesday. Sorry, Indy, I’m busy on Monday and then away visiting my aunt for the rest of the week. Unless you want to wait until then?”

“No,” said India, feeling frustrated. “We’ll just have to make it after school. Is that okay?”

“Sounds fine.”

On Tuesday afternoon India waited on tenterhooks for the bell to ring, knowing she couldn’t be late. At first they had considered repeating their plan of before of getting a change of clothes from Lydia’s as well as some of India’s own but then realised it would be way too much hassle, and not enough time, so settled on telling Declan that they had gone to the library.

“What are you in such a rush for, Napier?” asked Marcus Clod as India grabbed her bag and made for the door.

“None of your business.”

“She has a hot date, actually,” said Lydia proudly and India hissed,
“Lydia!”

She didn’t need the entire class hearing it, especially not Marcus.

“What, don’t tell me Daddy’s let his precious little girl go out with a boy?” asked Marcus incredulously, leaning against a locker as India put her things away. “I thought hell would freeze over before that happened – or you’d be a virgin until you were sixty.”

“Shut up Marcus,” said India angrily.

“I’m just saying. Because then he’d be dead and couldn’t do anything about it. Like your mum,” India thought she heard him add and she lunged after him, Lydia’s grabbing at her only preventing him from gaining a black eye.

“You leave my parents alone!” shouted India furiously but he was already strolling down the corridor, whistling. “Especially my mum!”

“India, calm down!”

“I’ll kill him!”

“He’s not worth it.”

“He didn’t even have the guts to say it properly!”

“Which means it even more of a waste of energy to kill him!” exclaimed Lydia. “Come on, he’s the one who’ll be a virgin til he’s sixty,” and India managed to laugh. “If someone ever loses enough braincells to sleep with him. Now keep still, let me put some eyeliner on you.”

“I don’t think –“

“Oh, come on –“

Lydia reached over, India squirmed and suddenly she had a streak across her cheek and she howled,
“Lydia!”

“You wouldn’t keep still!”

“Nice makeup job!” said Jamie Adler, wandering past and India marched to the girls’ toilets, Lydia following to wash it off.

“I’ll wear some mascara,” she said before her friend could say anything. “But that’s it.”

“Fine.”

“And I’ll apply it myself!”

Five minutes later and India ran to the cafe, her annoyances from before put aside in fear of being late. He was already sitting there with two strawberry milkshakes.

“Sorry,” she panted, sliding into a seat. “Got held up!”

“It’s fine. You look nice.”

“In my school dress?” asked India disbelievingly, feeling sure she looked terrible. She had run all the way and when India ran she got red cheeks and hair resembling an electrocution. A school dress couldn’t help.

“You do!”

“I can’t stay too long,” said India apologetically. “My grandma’s coming at six.”

“You said. Sorry I couldn’t come another day.”

“That’s okay,” said India and then he launched into an explanation of his plans, and visiting his aunt in Sydney.

“My mum was from Sydney,” said India, feeling pleased. “She lived there until she was sixteen.”

“Ever been?”

“We went a few times when I was little, we haven’t been for ages now. I can pick her house out though.”

The time slid by and before India knew it she was running late again.

“Got to go,” she said apologetically. “I’ve got to get a couple of books to make my story look realistic.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Not now!”

India’s guilt was washed away by another quick kiss until, seeing the clock, she broke away.

“Sorry - I’ve got to run!”

India hurtled to the library and threw the first one about algebra she could see into her bag, made for the exit and then remembered that cursed mascara – Dad wouldn’t buy that story twice. She ran to the toilets, washed her face as best she could and then raced back, gasping as she threw the door open.

“Someone’s in a hurry to see their grandma!”

Rebecca was already there, sitting on the sofa and India went over to give her a kiss.

“You’re late,” said Declan crossly from the kitchen and India felt ashamed, but Rebecca waved her hand.

“Only five minutes, time flies when you’re having fun!”

“Sorry,” said India anyway, and she got her breath back, glad to have it as an excuse not to talk, but when dinner came she did not have such luck.

“Donna’s coming on Saturday,” Declan reminded Rebecca when asked about his news.

“Where’s she staying?”

“With Zeke. I told her it would be quieter here but she’d promised Theo, she said, and the others.”

Zeke had gone on to have another two sons, Isaac and Alex.

“Donna has no clue what she’s in for,” remarked Declan, taking some bread. “Three boys under the age of thirteen plus Zeke. Jess’ll be the only female company she’ll get.”

“She’ll come over to yours a lot though, won’t she?”

“She’ll probably half live here,” agreed Declan. “And then I’ll have another crazy woman to add to the mix.”

“Hey!” exclaimed India indignantly and Declan shrugged.

“Didge was the sanest girl I ever knew and she could have her moments. Donna’s just off the scale!”

India had to agree with that.

“And it’s someone’s birthday this week,” said Rebecca, poking her, and India grinned, embarrassed. “And my little granddaughter’s all grown up – both of them!”

“Oh, don’t you and Dad get all emotional,” groaned India but it was too late.

“You were such a gorgeous baby,” sighed Rebecca.

“Seventeen!” sighed Delan.

“You were tiny and so sweet,” agreed Rebecca and Declan unsentimentally added,
“Even if you did make such disgusting nappies.”

“All right, that’s enough,” protested India, red in the cheeks again. “I was a baby and that’s what babies do! I’m not a baby now!”

“My baby’s seventeen,” agreed Declan. “But even when you’re forty you’ll still Tadpole.”

“Oh, Dad, not that daggy nickname,” groaned India and then, out of the blue, Rebecca remarked,
“I didn’t know you wore mascara now.”

India rubbed at her eyes and some black came off – she must not have washed it away properly in her hurry.

“Lydia wanted me to try it,” she said. “She brought some to school.”

“Right,” said Declan, raising his eyebrows and picking up the plates. “Indy, didn’t you learn your lesson last time? She came home with her face covered in makeup,” he added to his mother. “She let her friend do a makeover.”

“Right,” said Rebecca, but it was in a more suspicious tone and India squirmed. Grandma could always see through a lie – always. India didn’t know how but she always could and Rebecca looked at her curiously. India looked at her hands.

“Do you want to tell me something?” asked Rebecca after Declan went to make the coffee. They were sitting in the front room. India shook her curls.

“India,” said Rebecca in a knowing voice and India gave up – partly.

“Grandma,” she said hesitantly.

“Yes?”

“Say – just hypothetically – a girl liked someone a lot but her dad didn’t.”

“Mm,” said Rebecca suspiciously and India added hastily,
“Just hypothetically, of course.”

“Of course.”

“And she went out with him once...or twice, say, and he’s a lovely bloke but her dad won’t think so?”

“Why not?”

“He’s nineteen. And the girl wants to please both. What should she do? Hypothetically!”

“The girl should tell the truth,” said Rebecca sternly. “Even if it’s hard and her dad might flip, it’s better for both in the end.”

“What if he hits the roof?”

“He’ll come back down.” Rebecca put her hand on India’s, who couldn’t help looking away.

“Elliot from the party?” she asked gently and India looked round and stared.

“How did you -?”

“Just a guess. Tell the truth, darling. It’s better in the long run. And I know your dad.”

India couldn’t answer.

"How long?" asked Rebecca and India mumbled,
"I've only seen him twice. Are you going to tell Dad?"

Rebecca paused and then said,
"No. I'll let you tell him yourself. When you're ready, but it should be sooner rather than later. Trust me."

India stared at her, feeling grateful and nervous all at once and then Declan suddenly came in.
“Hey,” he said cheerfully. “What’d I miss?”

[Bee]

love it Sophie!

cant wait for more!

[sophie]

India tried to tell her father over the following few days about her secret – not that she tried very hard, she had to admit to herself. Declan was busy at work and tired when he came in, and stressed, and India never built up half the courage to tell him. After my birthday, she uneasily told herself. I’ll tell him after my birthday.

“Are you okay, Indy?” Declan asked on Thursday evening, as India thought it over.

“Yes, why?”

“You were frowning.”

“Oh...was I?”

“Yeah.”

“I was just thinking about tomorrow.”

“Not long now,” agreed Declan, glancing at the clock. “It’s only an hour until you’re seventeen! Are you excited?”

“I guess.”

“Oh, show some enthusiasm!” exclaimed Declan, grabbing his daughter’s hands and making her dance with him a little. India groaned,
“Oh, Dad, stop being daggy!”

“And you show some excitement,” retorted Declan.

“It’s school tomorrow anyway,” said India, sitting down again. “It won’t feel any different.”

“It’ll be your birthday, of course it’ll feel different.”

“Maybe. You're more excited than me! I’m going to bed.”

“All right. Goodnight, Tadpole.”

“Ah, Dad,” groaned India again, but she laughed and gave her father a kiss. “You’re so daggy. Are you always going to call me that?”

“Yep. Especially if you ever bring a boyfriend home.”

India froze a little before casually asking,
“And you’d let me?”

“Just as long he’s not twenty or something,” remarked Declan. “I could just about handle someone your own age, I think. No promises though.”

India gave a shaky laugh.

“I’ll keep it mind. Night.”

“Goodnight, darling.”

India thought she was tired but when she got into bed she couldn’t sleep. She lay one way, she lay another, she turned her pillow over by what must have been at least five times but she still could not sleep and as she sat up she caught sight of the clock, and her stomach gave a funny jolt. It was exactly midnight.

“Happy Birthday to me,” India whispered to herself. She glanced over and saw Bridget’s picture in the gleam of the moonlight.

“Mum, it’s my birthday,” she whispered again. “I’m seventeen. I wish you were here.”

India took the photo and tucked it under the covers with her before lying down again, and then finally she slept until her alarm went off in the morning.

“Happy Birthday!”

India blinked as she went into the kitchen, still feeling half asleep. Her father had a banner over the table, which he put up every year, and a silly hat on his head, and there were balloons around the table.

“Dad, what?” she asked in confusion. “Where did all this come from?”

“I put it up when you went to bed,” said Declan proudly as India slid into a chair and reached for the cereal. “Happy Birthday, Indy!” he added, and ruffled her hair. India leant away a little.

“I am seventeen now, don’t you think I’m too old to have my hair ruffled?”

“Nope,” contradicted Declan firmly. “Here, open this,” and he thrust a brightly-coloured present onto the table next to where India was sitting. India picked it up.

“I thought we were doing presents at dinner tonight?”

“It’s an extra.”

India opened it curiously to find a novel she had asked for.

“I thought that was my main present? Thank you,” she added quickly, remembering her manners, and she smiled at her father, turning the book over in admiration. It was The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.

“You wait and see,” said Declan, tapping his nose. "Here's some cake."

"Cake for breakfast?" exclaimed India as her father put a slice of Hummingbird cake down on the table.

"I't's your birthday!"

India giggled and ate it, before brushing away the crumbs.

"Thanks, Dad. I've got go now, I'll be late."

“All right. Have a good day, darling!"

India gave him a hug and hurried out, and Declan waved, but she did not turn around to look.

When she was gone Declan felt a little at a loss. He picked up India’s cereal bowl which she had forgotten to take to the sink and went and washed it, before realising that he had forgotten to eat his own breakfast. He quickly ate his own cereal and washed his bowl and tidied the things away. The birthday table looked lonely and somewhat saddening without the birthday girl, or even someone else sitting there, and Declan looked at it feeling sad himself, knowing who that someone was and missing her and so he decided to pay her a visit – if that was what you could call it. It was what he did, but it still felt wrong, he thought, as he made his way there. He knew it was where she wasn’t but it was the only place he could really go.

“Hey Didge,” he said fondly, reaching the graveyard and her own little grave. “Well, I’m not going to tell you because I know you still know everything. I know you know it’s our little girl’s birthday.”

He paused, taking a deep breath. It was harder than he thought it would be. Surely it was meant to get easier as time passed but in some cruel twist it felt the opposite. Every birthday, every Chistmas, it felt harder instead of easier and Declan was sure it would stay that way. In some ways he hoped it would.

“Indy’s seventeen,” he said brightly, as brightly as he could manage. “Can you believe that? Tadpole’s seventeen. She’s got no business doing that, it was only the other day we were at that music festival and she was being born. Hell, it was only the other day that you were telling me you were pregnant. I’m sorry I was such a tool.”

He stopped again and put his hand on the stone, tracing his fingers over the engraving.

“I really am, Didge, I am. I still feel bad about it and I know that I should. I swear, if Indy gets pregnant and the guy is a jerk to her I’ll kill him. And I’m telling you now to hit him for me in the afterlife. Yes, I know what you’re saying. You’re saying, Declan, violence never solved anything. Maybe not but it would make me feel a hell of a lot better. Though I don’t think India’s going to get pregnant, god forbid, because she doesn’t have a boyfriend. I don’t know what I’ll do if she gets one. Yeah, I know you’re rolling your eyes at me. India is seventeen now and she’s got every right to and I’m just being a caveman about it. But I am her daddy and she’ll always be my baby. I know you understand that. Didge, I don’t know what I’d do if she turned around and told me she was pregnant, I’d have enough trouble with her bringing someone home. But I’ll try and make sure she’s careful. I hope I’ve done that properly. I don’t want that. I’m doing my best anyway, even though I know you’d do a much better job, being her mum and everything. But you’ll always do a better job because you’re Didge.”

Declan stopped again and smiled sadly at her stone and then up and around.

“I don’t know why I’m talking to that stone,” he said, looking up at the sky as some tears fell down his cheeks. “I know you’re not there. I’ve told Indy that all the time as well, that you’re with us, not down there. You have better places to be. But I don’t know where else to talk to you. I know you’re with Indy today. You’d never miss her birthday.”

Declan leant back on his heels and put a small picture of India on the grave.

“Well, Didge, I know I have to go. I’ll be late for work though you wouldn’t believe how much I’d rather blow it off and stay here today. I know you’d say I can’t though. All right, I’m going now. I promise I’ll come back soon. I love you. I miss you every day. Bye, Didge. Bye. I love you.”

Declan got up and wiped his face and smiled bravely at her stone and then up and around again before turning to leave. He must have looked odd, talking to her, but Declan didn’t care. Sometimes he thought it was the only thing keeping him sane.

BANG!

India and everyone in the room put their hands over their ears as three party poppers went off at once.

“Mr Adler,” exclaimed Ms Brown, walking in suddenly and giving them another jump. “What on earth do you think you are doing? This is a classroom!”

“Yeah, but it’s Indy’s birthday,” protested Jamie, whose hand clutched the three empty party poppers.

“Be that as it may, you are at school. You can all celebrate India’s birthday afterwards.”

“Oh come on, Ms Brown, live a little!” exclaimed Jamie, allowing some of the confetti to fall off his shoulder but his teacher raised her eyebrows, causing Jamie to sit down meekly.

“Thank you Mr Adler. And happy birthday, India!”

“Thanks,” said India, feeling very embarrassed, picking some confetti out of hair. She hated being the centre of attention.

“Isn’t your boyfriend going to help you celebrate?” asked Marcus from the back of the room and India felt her cheeks go scarlet, not helped by his cronies saying ooh! in an immature voice.

“Shut up!” she exclaimed and the noises from behind her got louder.

“All right, settle down,” said Ms Brown sternly, who had never trusted India since the calculator incident. “Please turn to page three....”

“He’s your boyfriend now?” asked Jamie incredulously as they all left to go home.

“I don’t know,” said India blushing.

“Right,” he replied stroppily.

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothing. Happy Birthday.” Jamie placed a badly-wrapped present in her hand and strode off, leaving India surprised. She hadn’t expected anything until her party on Saturday. As she walked home she unwrapped it to find a picture of them, taken a long time ago, in a cheap silver frame and she admired it, feeling rather touched.

“Happy Birthday sweetheart!”

They had all gone to a restaurant in town; her, Dad, Rebecca and Zeke (Jess and the boys had wanted to come too but the boys had fallen ill).

“Thanks Grandma,” said India, reaching over to hug and kiss her. She didn't dare tell her grandmother that she hadn't told the truth to her father but Rebecca simply smiled and only asked,
“So...how does it feel to be seventeen? All grown up?”

“I don’t feel it,” confessed India, sitting down next to her. “Grown up, I mean. But I don’t really feel seventeen either.”

“Well, it is your birthday. You were sixteen just yesterday. Oh, and it feels like yesterday you were born!”

“Not you too,” groaned India but she didn’t mind too much as her grandmother looked slightly emotional.

“It does feel like yesterday,” remarked Zeke. “Doesn’t it, Dec? Man, I feel old.”

“I know I’m never growing up,” came a voice suddenly and India whirled around in disbelief. It couldn’t be!

“Donna,” she exclaimed, getting up to wrap her godmother into a hug. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow!”

“Surprise,” said her godmother, her eyes twinkling. “Happy Birthday, gorgeous goddaughter of mine!”

India didn’t know what to say so she simply hugged her tightly, thinking it was all too good to be true. Instead she let Donna go and made room for her and they began discussing her flight from London, and how Rachel was and about the crazy delays.

“We can talk about it all later though,” said Donna firmly, picking up a menu. “it’s Indy’s night, after all. Which reminds me,” and she pulled out a gift.

India curiously unwrapped it and then gasped at what was inside: a picture of Donna, Rachel and her mother looking silly in some face masks.

“That’s us when we were seventeen,” Donna told her. “I thought you might like it.”

“I love it.” India didn’t know what else to say.

The rest of her presents were unwrapped: a movie she had wanted from Grandma, chocolates from Zeke and the most surprising present of all from her father; a set of silver earrings and a necklace.

“I know you don’t wear much jewellery,” he told her awkwardly. “But I thought you might like them.”

“I love them,” said India and she put them on straight away.

The evening drew to a close and they all made their way home, Donna promising to come by first thing tomorrow when India was back from work.

“And I have lots of stories to tell!” she called, before turning around to go back with Zeke.

“Good birthday?” asked Declan, as India lay her presents out.

“The best,” she said, smiling. “Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight.”

As she went to her bedroom Declan went to a drawer and picked out her baby photos from so long ago, smiling at the three of them, Didge looking exhausted but ecstatic and him looking the same, only Didge had that glow. They all said it was a myth, that motherly glow thing, and Rachel had promised him when she had had her daughters – with every three of them – that there was not an iota of truth in it, that motherhood was tiring, yucky and if there was any glow it was probably of sweat, but when Declan looked at Bridget in the photos he thought he saw some sort of glow all the same. She looked luminously happy. He had never said that to anyone because he suspected it sounded stupid but he thought so quietly. She looked beautiful. It was the cruellest thing in the world that she’d been taken away so soon. Indy had barely been a month old. They’d been so exhausted from the birth and looking after her that birthday celebrations had barely been mentioned but she’d said that she imagined them having a picnic for India’s first birthday but Declan couldn’t bear to do so in the end, thinking it would hurt too much, but it hurt anyway, her first birthday, before it been so frightening and Indy had had to go to hospital. Her resulting birthdays had been a lot more peaceful and though Declan enjoyed celebrating them with his daughter, being extra-enthusiastic on purpose, there was always that missing gap which could never be filled and that dull ache of grief. But he had to believe she was still there, in some way. No, he knew it.

Declan got up and put the photos away and then suddenly felt tired himself. On the way to his room he stopped and looked in at Indy’s; the door was ajar. His now seventeen-year-old slept with her hand curled around her mother’s photo and he smiled sadly. Hadn’t it just been the other day that they had been seventeen-year olds – okay, eighteen-year-old for him – themselves, at that festival, just a pair of kids who had suddenly been thrown into becoming adults as Indy had decided it was time for her to join the world? That terrifying birth where all he could do was hold her, not knowing what he was doing, yet she’d known what to do? Didge had always known what to do and he’d had to guess the way since. He smiled at his daughter – sometimes he felt she was more wise than he. She got that from her mother, and he’d felt that way since she was tiny. She had no business growing up. It hadn't been that long since he'd held her for the very first time.

“Happy Birthday Tadpole,” he whispered and then closed the door.

[Bee]

Naww how sweet great update Sophie can't wait for more!!!

[sophie]

Thanks!

“How’s the birthday girl?” asked Mr Wheezer the following morning and India smiled.

“It’s not my birthday anymore!”

“Happy Birthday for yesterday then. Seventeen, isn’t it?”

“Yep.”

India picked up some boxes of stock and moved them to the shelves to begin stacking.

“It doesn’t feel that long ago that I was seventeen,” commented Mr Wheezer.

“Mm,” said India.

“Doing anything for it?”

“Just a small party with friends.”

“Well, have fun.”

“Thanks.” India resumed her stacking and thought about her party, if it could be called that. She was only going to be having some drinks with friends out on the common – there wasn’t much else to do, but it should be fun. She served some customers, did more stacking and suddenly there was a jangle of the bell as a customer came in, only it wasn’t any customer.

“Donna!” squeaked India, putting the box down. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I knew you still had that job,” said Donna, smiling friendly at Mr Wheezer who was frowning. “Dec said you were finishing soon?”

“Yeah...now, actually,” said India, glancing at the clock. “Mr Wheezer, can I -?”

“Go on,” he sighed and India put the stock away and got ready to go.

“So,” said Donna, when they were sitting down with some milkshakes (Donna’s shout). “How have you been, Indyness?”

“Fine,” grinned India. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

“I can’t believe you’re seventeen!”

“I don’t really feel it. Donna, you must be exhausted! How was the flight?”

“Long,” yawned Donna. “Very, very long. But I’m just glad to be back. I love England but it’s not home, is it?”

“How’s Rach?”

“She’s fine,” said Donna. “Tired!”

Rachel had had three daughters; Francesca, Caitlin and Eva and they were aged between five and two.

“How’re the girls?”

“Cute,” grinned Donna. “I’m already getting them interested in fashion,” and, as India groaned, Donna added, “Something I could never do with you, Miss Tomboy!”

“It’s the best way to be,” said India defensively. “Have you been cuddling them for me?”

“Of course. Here, they sent you this,” and Donna unfolded a painting of three, small and rather triangular figures next to a larger, rounder one.

“I take it that’s the girls and me,” laughed India. “I hope they’re not trying to tell me something with how they’ve illustrated me.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m only joking.”

India smiled and lay the painting down.

“So?” asked Donna. “What’s new?”

“School finishes on Wednesday.”

“That’s great, we can hang out all day then! Anything else new? Any boyfriends on the horizon?”

“No,” mumbled India, but she felt herself blush and quickly looked down – but not quickly enough.

“India Napier, you have gone the colour of a tomato!” exclaimed Donna gleefully. “Who?”

“No one!”

“Oh, come on, you can tell me, I always want to hear romantic gossip.”

“Dad doesn’t know,” said India desperately.

“Why?”

“He’d freak out. Not because he’s dangerous or anything but just because it’s a boy.”

“Right,” said Donna knowingly. “Well, my dad was a bit like that too, only Dec’s a lot more sane.”

“Not when it comes to boys.”

“Right,” said Donna knowingly again. “Well, your secret’s safe with me. Can you tell me about him?”

India hesitated but decided that she could trust Donna.

“His name’s Elliot,” she told her. “He’s slightly older than me and he has brown hair.”

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“Not that long.”

Donna grinned.

“I can’t believe you have a boyfriend,” she said. “It doesn’t feel possible that you’re old enough!”

“Dad’ll never think I’m old enough,” said India gloomily, drinking some milkshake.

“I’ll talk him round,” said Donna confidently and India grabbed her wrist.

“You can’t tell him!”

“Relax, Indy,” said Donna. “I only meant if he found out. And I wouldn’t mention any names.”

“Hmm,” said India.

“So looking foward to the party?” asked Donna, changing the subject and their talk turned to that.

“Back by twelve,” warned Declan as India got ready to go.

“I know, Dad.”

“And India, when I say that I’d rather you didn’t drink that’s me telling you not to, okay?”

“Yes, I know,” sighed India, and then grinned. “Dad, please relax. I’m not going to get drunk or take drugs or wander off with anyone strange. It’s going to be fine, I promise.”

Declan sighed too and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Yes, I know...look, I know that a party can get out of hand, okay?”

India knew he was thinking of his own birthday party, so long ago, where people had gatecrashed and trashed the place, making her grandmother go absolutely mad. She couldn’t imagine it, though she had seen the footage of before it had gone haywire.

“It’s not exactly a rave,” said India, putting her jacket on. “It’s just me and some girls from my class, oh, and Jamie.”

“Make sure he stays your friend,” growled Declan, who had never trusted Jamie since he had broken India’s heart five years ago.

“Dad!”

“Yeah, well, I know teenage boys,” grumbled Declan.

“You don’t know Jamie,” said India firmly. “Right, I’m going.”

“One more thing!”

“What?”

“Have a great night,” said Declan, smiling at his daughter and India smiled too and gave her father a hug.

“I will. I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too.”

The party was in full swing. India, Lydia, Allie, Jess, Emily and Jamie sat on a blanket with an array of food and drink spread haphazardly apart around a makeshift bonfire, constructed by India and Jamie, with a bucket of water next to it in case something went wrong. India had got a set of hairslides from Lydia, some bubble bath from Allie, a bag from Jess, a cushion from Jess and a big chocolate bar from Jamie.

“You didn’t have to,” said India, feeling embarrassed. “I mean, you got me something yesterday.”

He shrugged.

“It’s good chocolate, isn’t it?”

“Very subtle,” laughed India, breaking some off and giving it to him. “Anyone else?” but they were all huddled further away and seemed to be sharing some sort of celebrity gossip so India shrugged and broke more off for herself.

“Did you like the picture?”

“Yeah,” said India, feeling embarrassed again. “It was really sweet of you – I didn’t even know you had one of us from back then.”

He shrugged again. The picture had been taken of them when they were fourteen, mucking about on some sort of school trip and annoying the teacher.

“It was really nice of you.”

“S’okay. Where’s your boyfriend?”

“He’s not really my boyfriend,” said India, looking down. “And he’s in Sydney this week.”

“Right.”

They were silent for a moment.

“I like your jewellery,” said Jamie suddenly and India instinctively put a hand to her throat, where her necklace lay.

“Thanks,” she said, blushing slightly. “Dad gave them to me yesterday.”

“They’re pretty.”

“Thanks.”

India ran out of things to say but looked curiously at her friend, with his face lit up by the flames. It made him look different.

“What are you two doing?” yelled Lydia suddenly, turning around and making India and Jamie jump. “This is a party you know! Are you having some sort of romantic tryst?”

“Get real,” scoffed India quickly, feeling back to normal. “We were just having an intellectual conversation because you were talking about someone’s fifth baby.”

“Their fourth, actually.” Lydia spotted what was in India’s hand and exclaimed, “Chocolate! Why didn’t you offer me any?”

India rolled her eyes at Jamie and he grinned, but the look from before was gone.

“Declan, will you please chill out?” exclaimed Donna. Declan had called her, feeling desperate and she’d been ridiculing him since he told her that India’s party was his ‘emergency’.

“She’s gone to a field with a boy.”

“But he’s not her boyfriend?” asked Donna in confusion.

“No, not unless you know something I don’t.” Declan stopped and looked at her quizzically.

“I don’t know anything,” said Donna quickly and Declan started pacing around again.

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” said Donna slowly. “India’s gone to a field for her birthday party with her friends, and one’s a boy, but he’s not her boyfriend.”

“Correct.”

“And you don’t suspect any of them of being heavy drinkers or drug addicts?”

“Well...no,” admitted Declan.

“So you called me over here to freak out about nothing?”

“Well...”

“It’s after eleven, you know,” grumbled Donna. “You’re lucky I’m so forgiving.”

“Donna, she’s seventeen!” Declan exclaimed. “And so are they! I think they’re good kids but you never know...what if one of them convinces them all to take drugs or something!”

“Dec!”

“And I don’t trust that Jamie,” said Declan sulkily. “I’m never forgetting the time he broke Indy’s heart!”

“Oh Declan, that was five years ago!” exclaimed Donna. “Let it go! Anyway, I don’t think he’s a bad influence...not like me,” she added, grinning and Declan sighed.

“At least you had to help clear up, no thanks to your ‘friends’. Thanks Donna. Thanks a lot.”

“That was years ago,” said Donna quickly and then sat up. “Oh! I think that’s your daughter!”

Declan hurried to window and looked out; yes, there was India, but not alone, talking and laughing with Jamie who had walked her back and he marched over to the front door and threw it open.

“Hey, Dad,” said India, still laughing. “I’m not late, am I?”

“No,” said Declan, looking at Jamie. “You should probably get to bed soon though. Thanks for walking Indy back,” he added ungraciously and Jamie shrugged.

“She’s my mate.”

“Are you okay for getting back?” asked India, turning to him.

“Yeah. Lydia’s giving me a lift.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Happy Birthday,” he said again and he hugged her and it was all Declan could do not to pull him off her.

“Night,” said India, grinning and stepped in, her eyes widening when she saw her godmother.

“Donna! What are you doing here?”

“Calming down your father,” she sighed. “Did you have a good night?”

“The best!”

“Awesome,” Donna grinned. “Well, I’m heading back. Night!”

“Night, Donna.”

“I’m going to bed,” said India, and she hugged her father, her hair smelling of woodsmoke and he sighed and let her go.

[sophie]

In a writing mood today so here's another chapter! And I know text messages are generally shorter than the ones sent by India and Elliot, but I have a real issue with text speak, even in texts. Blame it on my being an English student!


Wednesday was the last day of school. Class broke up at twelve and chaos reigned as the teacher tried to make the pupils look at old exam papers, but no one was listening and when she had left the room someone had started a water fight.
“Are you going to the field after?” asked Jamie as jets of water flew over their heads and India shrugged.

“Maybe.”

“There’ll be drinks and stuff.”

“I’ll come for a bit.”

Jamie looked as though he was about to ask his friend something else but then a jet of water hit the back of his neck and, shouting, he got his water bottle out and joined in the fight. India’s phone beeped and she got it out, seeing a text from Elliot reading
BACK TODAY AT 12

Grinning, India quickly texted him back,
SCHOOL FINISHES AT 12 TOO. I’LL SEE YOU LATER

“Who’s that?” remarked Jamie, looking away for a moment. “Boyfriend?”

India shrugged and then water hit her own shoulder and she got up to get her own back, grabbing her water bottle.

“Miss Napier!”

India spun around guiltily. The teacher had come back in and looked irate.

“Sorry,” she mumbled and put the bottle away.

“I should think so too. Maybe you need to go back in Year 7...”

The rest of the morning sped by and soon it was midday and everyone was running to the field, their bags swinging over their shoulders and the whole of the holidays ahead of them.

“Are you seeing your boyfriend later?” asked Jamie, swigging some cola. "Was he the one texting?"

“Maybe.” India didn’t feel it was his business.

“What’s his name again?”

“Elliot.”

“That’s a weird name.”

“I like it,” retorted India. “It’s erudite.”

Jamie snorted and, feeling annoyed with him, India pushed herself off the blanket, leaving her drink and bag of chips and got up to talk to Lydia.

“Are you two arguing?” she asked knowingly.

“No!”

Lydia raised her eyebrows and India added,
“He’s just being an idiot, as usual. Guess what?”

“What?”

“Elliot’s back today!” India exclaimed and suddenly Lydia grinned.

“I think he’s already here.”

India whirled around and saw Elliot standing awkwardly at the edge of the field.

“What are you doing here?” she cried, running over to him and ignoring Jamie who was looking annoyed.

“You knew I was back today!”

“Yeah, but –"

“And I knew everyone goes to the field after school ends,” he added. “Do you want to sit down?”

India looked behind her to see Lydia whispering with Allie and Jess, Marcus Clod looking up and Jamie glaring at her. She glared back – he had no right to be angry with her for no reason. Suddenly she felt sick of all of them.

“No,” she said firmly. “Let’s get away from here. Let’s go to my place.”

“Are you sure?” asked Elliot, as they started walking away.

“Yeah. My dad’s at work.”

Declan sighed at his computer screen, feeling no motivation whatsoever to fill in his form and his eye kept wandering to the pictures on his desk: he and Bridget on their wedding day, the day they could first hold Indy in the hospital and then just Indy herself, aged five with an icecream. He smiled sadly. Where had his little girl gone? He missed those days a lot....it didn't feel so long ago that she had been crying about starting Kinder for the first time. But Donna was right, he told himself firmly. She was a good girl really, not one of those terrible teenagers you heard about these days. These days – he sounded like an old man and was barely into his mid-thirties. Some men his age hadn’t even had their first child. Now that felt weird.
There was a knock at the door.

“Yeah?” asked Declan, feeling distracted. It was his boss and Declan sat up instantly, trying to look as though he was hard at work.

“Sir?”

“Declan, there’s been some sort of water damage.”

“Water damage?” he echoed, not following.

“Mm.” His boss looked annoyed. “A pipe burst. Basically, we have to close the office until it’s fixed and you’ll have to go home.”

“Oh,” said Declan, trying not to sound pleased, but his boss gave him a knowing smile.

“Enjoy your new afternoon off!”

Declan grinned and packed up to go.

“Nice house,” commented Elliot as India got out her doorkey.

“Thanks.” The lock was stiff and she twisted at it with the key.

“Need a hand?”

“No,” said India, her voice tight with concentration. “There – got it!”

The door swung open and they stepped in, blinking from the bright light.

“Do you want something to drink?” asked India, leaning against the door to close it.

“I’m fine.” Elliot started to walk around curiously and India moved towards him, not realising that the door had sprung back open when she had got up.

“Well...my room’s this way.” India led the way to her room, swinging off her bag and leaving it in the hall.

“Is that your mum?” asked Elliot. They had gone into India’s room and he had picked up the picture of Bridget beside her bed.

“Yeah.”

“She looks like you.” Elliot paused and then tentatively asked, “Do you miss her?”

India shrugged.

“Sometimes. I can’t remember her.”

There was a pause and then Elliot picked up another photo on her desk.

“Oh – is that you?”

India looked over and groaned. It was her as a baby with Bridget and Declan in the hospital, wrapped up in a pink baby blanket.

“Yeah.”

“Very cute,” commented Elliot and put it back down. They looked at each other.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?” asked India, beginning to reconsider her decision to invite him in. She hadn’t meant that, but it probably looked that way.

“I’m fine.”

“You can sit down,” offered India and he sat on the bed. She had intended her desk chair, but didn’t correct him, and sat down beside him, feeling nervous.

“Are you okay?” he asked suddenly.

“Fine, why?”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No, it’s just –“ India bit her lip. “I don’t want to...you know.”

“That’s okay,” he said, looking at her. She looked at him and he pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and then, before she knew what was happening, they were kissing.

Declan got the front door, with his key ready, and then frowned. The door was ajar. He pushed it open and his first instinct was to call out, but then he saw India’s bag. Maybe she had left the door open and he frowned; sure he had heard a voice in her room which did not belong to his daughter. India and Elliot kissed harder and harder and fell back on the bed and India knew she would have to say something in a minute...but that was in a minute. She let him run his hand through her hair and it felt like everything else had melted away. She did not hear the front door be pushed silently open, or Declan walking towards her room unsurely and so, it came as a complete surprise to both when her bedroom door swung open and her father came into the room.

[Bee]

Great updates oooooh cliffhanger much! can't wait for more!!

[sophie]

Thanks!


It took Declan a moment to register what he was seeing. He stared at them for a moment and then realisation hit hard; some random bloke practically lying on top of his daughter and both pashing like there was no tomorrow with their hands all over each other.

“WHAT THE HELL?!”

Elliot and India sprung apart as though they had been electrocuted and India sat up in horror, smoothing her school dress down.

“Dad!” she exclaimed in disbelief. It couldn't be happening. “What are you doing home?”

“Who the hell is this?” barked Declan, feeling more and more murderous by the second. “And what the hell do you think you’re doing kissing my daughter? Get out this instant!”

“I was just...” mumbled Elliot but he quailed under Declan’s anger.

“Shut up!”

“Dad!” exclaimed India again but Elliot got up very quickly. “Leave Elliot alone!”

“Elliot?” echoed Declan in disbelief. The name sounded vaguely familiar and niggled at him until realisation dawned. “Elliot...wait, you’re that boy from the party!”

He started to nod but Declan glared at him fiercely.

“You get out right now,” he told him threateningly. “Don’t you ever come near my daughter again if you want to keep your kneecaps.”

“DAD!” shouted India but Elliot didn’t need telling twice.

“Sorry,” he muttered and then made for the front door, and India and Declan heard it slam.

“What are you doing home?” asked India again but Declan didn’t answer.

“How long has this been going on?”

India looked to her side.

“India,” said Declan in a warning voice.

“Three weeks,” mumbled India and Declan exploded, the relative calm he’d been keeping breaking over.

“THREE WEEKS?! So you’ve been lying to me since that party! I knew you weren’t just talking!”

“We were just talking!” cried India and Declan snorted. “We were! I was going to tell you!”

“And that’s why you came home with makeup all over you,” said Declan, the pieces falling into place. “Both times! I knew there was something fishy about those study evenings!”

“I was going to tell you,” India said again, but Declan ignored her.

“And how many times has he been here?” he demanded.

“This was the first time,” said India desperately. “We weren’t going to have sex!”

“Really,” said Declan, sounding very unconvinced.

“We weren’t!” exclaimed India.

“India, he was lying on top of you for God’s sake!”

“He wasn’t on top of me!”

Declan didn’t know what to say and just stared at his daughter angrily, as she guiltily wiped her mouth.

“You’re grounded,” he said when he finally found his voice. “For three weeks.”

“Three weeks?!” echoed India in disbelief. “That’s the entire winter holiday!”

“Yeah, well, you lied to me for three weeks so you’ll get grounded for three weeks,” retorted Declan.

“That’s not fair!”

“I would not recommend talking back unless you want me to double that and make it six weeks!”

“But it’s ages!”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you lied to me and brought nineteen-year-old boys home!”

“It wasn’t like that!” protested India, squeezing her hands together. “I didn’t bring him back for that!”

“What did you bring him here for then?” asked Declan and India didn’t know what to say.

“Anyway,” he continued. “Even if you didn’t plan on sleeping with him you still lied to me for weeks. I’m very disappointed in you.”

India felt terrible.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“And you’re never seeing him again,” added Declan, ignoring his daughter’s apology and India’s head snapped up.

“You can’t just ban us from seeing each other!” she shouted.

“That’s funny, I think I just did!”

“I’m seventeen,” said India angrily, beginning to lose some of her remorse. “And believe it or not, I am old enough for a boyfriend.”

“Don’t you dare be sarcastic,” said Declan furiously.

“I’m still old enough for a boyfriend.”

“Not one who’s nineteen,” said Declan firmly. “And I’m your father and I get the final say.”

“You’re treating me like a child!” shouted India, standing up.

“That’s because you’re acting like one!”

“No, it’s because you've always hated the idea of me growing up!”

“I don’t hate the idea of you growing up,” said Declan angrily. “I hate the idea of you growing up into a liar!”

That hurt. India felt as though she had been slapped.

“I’m not a liar!” exclaimed India. “This is the only thing I’ve lied about and that’s why; I knew you’d say I couldn’t see him! He’s my boyfriend and so what, he’s a couple of years older than me. You were older than Mum!”

“I was less than a year older than your mum,” retorted Declan. “And it’s not about me, it’s about you. You didn’t have any right to lie to me like that.”

“This is why I didn’t tell you!” exclaimed India. “Because I knew you’d react like this!”

“I came home to find some bloke all over my daughter, how did you think I’d react?”

“You’re being unreasonable and overreacting!”

That was the last straw.

“I am not overreacting,” thundered Declan. “And I am not being unreasonable. In fact, you’re lucky I’m not more angry. You wait until you’re a parent and find your own daughter kissing older boys on the bed, then you talk to me about overreacting! And if I hadn’t come in when I had you might have realised that a little sooner than you’d have preferred!”

India was furious.

“I wasn’t going to have sex with him!” she shouted. “Especially not unprotected sex! Why won’t you believe me?”

“Maybe it’s the small fact that you’ve been lying to my face for practically a month,” snarled Declan. “I can’t believe you’ve disrespected me like this. You’ve betrayed my trust.”

“What, like how you and Mum told the truth from the start?” asked India snarkily, feeling very hurt. “Like how you two were always so chaste? You’re being such a hypocrite!”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” said Declan furiously, not believing his ears. “And it is none of your business what your mother and I did and did not do. It is completely different. I am not being a hypocrite. I can’t believe you’ve done this. I’ve always trusted you.”

“We weren’t doing anything wrong,” sniffled India.

“That’s debatable,” snapped Declan.

There was a long pause. Declan and India stared at each other until finally Declan looked down for a moment and India continued to sniffle.

“Right,” said Declan finally. “I’m going out.”

“Where?”

“To get some air, not that it’s any of your business. You stay in your room, do you hear me?”

“I’m seventeen!” exclaimed India. “You can’t tell me to stay in my room like a kid!”

“You are a kid,” snapped Declan. “You’re my kid and I’m your dad and you are not moving a muscle until I get back. I don’t know how long I’ll be. And don’t you even think about calling him.”

India didn’t reply and instead stared angrily him.

“See you later,” said Declan tightly, turned on his heel and strode out of his daughter’s room. India sat with her hands bunched up in her lap, it seeming impossible that just ten minutes before it had felt as though she and Elliot were the only people in the world. Now she didn’t know if her father would ever forgive her. She should have told him, her conscience scolded, but what was the point? she asked silently. He’d have treated her just the same and would never understand her growing up, but India felt ashamed all the same, knowing that she shouldn’t have lied. It was the worst fight they had ever had. India’s eyes turned and guiltily rested on her mother’s photo.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, as the tears began rolling. “I am.”