Violet Ink (16 page)

Look after him for me. I don't think I need him any more.

Love you forever,

Alex xxx

I pick up Mr Cuddles and sniff his head. He smells of patchouli incense sticks and vanilla candles and Alex. I snuggle down under the covers and try not to think about Alex's face as the train pulled away. I try to believe that she's doing the right thing. And I'm glad to have Mr Cuddles with me in bed; it feels like she left a little bit of herself here with me, that she hasn't abandoned me completely.

I don't think I ever knew just how much of the noise in our house was made by Alex. With only Mum and me here, it's really quiet. Mum has been getting home as early as she can on her workdays and we both sit together in the kitchen, me doing my homework and her planning her lessons. The house has become beige – calm and simple.

When I woke up the day after Alex left, I wasn't sure what to expect. I didn't know if Mum was going to be angry or sad or disappointed or confused. It turns out that she was all of those things multiplied by about one thousand. She told me over breakfast that she'd managed to get hold of Charlie's parents on the phone and that they were just as upset as she was. They said they'd contacted Charlie's uncle as soon as they read the letter that Charlie had left them and he
was expecting them. They told Mum that he'd look after them until everything got sorted.

Mum also told me that she'd tried to ring Alex last night, about fifty billion times on her mobile, but Alex wasn't answering. I said that maybe her phone didn't work abroad, but Mum just pulled a weird face and didn't say anything.

When I got back from school that day, Granny and Grandpa were here. Granny gave me a big hug and told me not to worry, that it'd all come out in the wash. I think that means that it'll all be OK in the end but I don't really see how that can happen, to be honest. She and Mum had a huge conversation about whether Mum should travel to Switzerland to get Alex. Mum got all upset again and said that she couldn't have the time off work and, anyway, who would help look after Grandpa? They both looked at Grandpa when she said that, but he was busy unpacking and then repacking Granny's handbag over and over again and didn't notice.

Granny told Mum that they'd be fine and she mustn't worry about them, but even I could see the relief in her face when Mum told her not to be so daft and that she wouldn't leave them. That
she'd speak to Alex and decide what to do from there.

Alex phoned Mum when they arrived in Switzerland to let her know that they'd got there safely. I don't know what they said to each other in their conversation, but Mum was very quiet when she got off the phone and later that night she told me that we definitely wouldn't be going after Alex – that she'd agreed to give Alex some time to decide what she wants to do. She said all this like she wasn't at all sure that she'd made the right decision.

Mealtimes and weekends are the worst. We just don't seem to be able to think of anything to talk about that isn't Alex. Mum gets really upset, but that doesn't stop her wanting to talk about what has happened over and over again. Most of the time I don't even have to say anything back: I just chew my food and listen while she asks what she did wrong. At the beginning I tried to tell her that it wasn't her fault – that Alex did this, not Mum – but she didn't seem able to hear me. She just keeps going on about history repeating itself and did she put too much pressure on Alex and it was only that she wanted the best for her and on and on and on.

On Day Five I got home from school and there was a letter on the doormat. It was addressed to Mum, but I knew straight away that it was from Alex – the violet ink was a complete giveaway. I put it on the kitchen table and Mum read it when she got home. She cried a bit while she read it and then she tucked it down the side of the mug that she uses to keep all her pens and pencils in. Alex gave her the mug a few years ago – not for a birthday or anything, but just because. I think they might have had an argument or something, but when Alex came home with the mug it made Mum laugh and pull a face and give Alex a huge hug. She said that she wasn't sure the mug should strictly be given to her because she's always making mistakes and messing up being our mum, but Alex said that was rubbish and she'd chosen a ‘Best Mum in the World' mug because Mum really is.

Anyway, when Mum went off to do her marking, I had a look at the letter. I've kind of given up worrying about whether I'm doing the right thing or not these days. I think it's much more important to know what's going on, which everybody is incredibly slow to tell me. So it's really not my fault if I have to find out for myself. I think it shows that I have initiative.

I have no idea why Mum cried when she read the letter though. I couldn't find anything sad in it at all.

Dear Mum,

I'm writing to you from sunny Switzerland! We got here eventually, although at times I thought we never would. The journey took forever – I had absolutely no idea how far away this place is. Part of me really wanted to get off the train when I saw you and Izzy standing on the platform. I still don't understand how you got there?! I hope you understand why I didn't. I needed to do this and I didn't want you to come after me when you could be looking for Grandpa.

This place is so totally beautiful – I wish you were here to see it. The mountains are real, live Alps with snow on the tops – they look like something from a film. It's really hot and sunny too. At breakfast time today it was warm enough to sit outside and we saw two lizards sunbathing on a rock. And get this – the cows actually DO wear bells around their necks!!

The hotel is really pretty with shutters at the windows. I'm sending you a postcard with this letter so that you can see what I'm talking about.

Charlie's Uncle Rob is brilliant. He's totally fine about me and Charlie and the baby, which is a bit of a relief because I wasn't sure how much Charlie had told him before we arrived. The first thing he did when we got here was ring Charlie's parents so that they wouldn't be worried. I don't know what he said, but when he got off the phone he told Charlie that it was OK for now. His wife, Monique, is lovely too. It was her who suggested I ring you to let you know we'd got here safely, which was nice of her.

Charlie's job is to keep the hotel garden from looking too shabby and to help out in the kitchens. I'm going to do some work in the laundry and other bits and pieces. Yesterday I helped clean the rooms and make the beds, which was surprisingly good fun. I bet you never thought you'd hear me say that!

There are lots of complications with getting work permits apparently so for now Uncle Rob
is just going to pay us in cash. We've got a tiny little chalet all of our own to live in – it's just like a doll's house, but I'll tell you more about that next time I write. Anyway, we've got somewhere to stay and Charlie brings our food back from the kitchens so it's not like we actually need a lot of money.

It feels like a free holiday really! Everyone is so kind and won't let me do much work because of the baby, so I've spent most of this week just sitting in the sunshine and wondering what you and Izzy are doing!

Well, I'd better go now – it's nearly time for supper. Please try not to worry about me. Everything is working out brilliantly and, although I'm missing you both a lot, I am happy.

Anyway, write back if you want to and tell me how you are. I can get emails here. I miss you.

Love you forever,

Alex xxxx

PS Tell Izzy I had coffee and croissants for breakfast. Delicious!

I asked Mum to show me on the map where exactly Alex and Charlie have gone, and at lunchtimes I go into the library and use the computer to Google images of where they are. I've seen pictures of mountains with snow and cows with bells around their necks, and Alex is right, it does all look really beautiful and amazing. It just doesn't look very ‘Alex', that's all. I try and try, but I cannot imagine her there.

Mum had a chat with me a few days after Alex had gone. She said that what Alex had done wasn't fair: it wasn't fair on Mum or the baby, but it particularly wasn't fair on me. She said Alex had put me in an impossible situation and that she was proud of the way I dealt with it. I don't think she really understands how much I knew though, or how long I knew it. When I lie awake in bed at night, I ask myself that question a lot: would this all have been different if I'd just told Mum as soon as I knew? If I'd spoken out as soon as I read the text from Charlie about not wanting a baby? And I know the answer, but I wish I could un-know it because it's a hundred per cent YES. If I'd told Mum then she would have spoken to Alex and Alex would never have run away. I'm not stupid enough to think this is
all my fault – it wasn't me that got pregnant after all – but I do know, deep down, that I'm not as sensible and responsible as Mum thinks I am.

On Day Ten I got home from school to find my own letter lying on the doormat. I took it up to my bedroom so that I could really enjoy it and maybe feel, for just a few minutes, that Alex was here chatting to me like old times.

Dear Izzy,

I can't believe I'm here in this awesome place – you really have never seen anything like it in your life! Hardly anyone speaks English, but I'm working really hard on my French and Charlie translates for me – when he's around that is! His Uncle Rob has him working really hard. I hardly get to see him at the moment. It's all worth it though, to be here together. Anyway, it's going to have to be a choice of learning French or stopping talking, so which do you think I'll choose?!

Our little chalet is the best place ever. It's all made out of wood and it smells amazing. We've got our own teeny bathroom with just
enough room for a sink, toilet and shower. No bath, which is a shame, because the baby suddenly seems to have grown massive overnight and my back gets quite achy by the end of the day after lugging it around! I miss soaking in a long, deep bubble bath while you chat to me.

There are some shelves on one wall in our room and today I picked some flowers and put them in a jam jar. I have no idea what they are, but they make the place look really cosy. The walls are a bit bare, but I might have a go at drawing the view so that we've got a picture to put up.

It would be so fantastic if you and Mum could come here one day – I know you'd love it. There's a gorgeous little church in the village. I joked with Charlie the other day that it'd be an amazing place to get married. He didn't say a lot, but he did give me a big grin, so you never know! Never say never! Watch this space!!!

We're so happy to be here that it hardly seems like real life! And you should see what
Charlie has bought for the baby – a totally gorgeous (and a bit funny-looking, but don't tell him I said that!) stuffed toy zebra called Stripy!

The weather is completely different to back home (writing that sentence makes me feel totally British!). When it's sunny, it is BOILING HOT, but when it rains it's like standing under a shower. It feels like everything is MORE here – not grey and bleak like at home.

There's so much I want to tell you and I'm sure I haven't said half of it. It's brilliant that it's all working out so well and that Charlie and I are so happy together. I wish I could share all of this with you and Mum as well though. I'm having all the good things while you're both probably a bit worried about me.

Don't worry and try not to miss me too much. I'm really, really happy here!

Love you forever,

Alex xxx

I read her letter over and over again, but in the end I gave up. I couldn't find it, no matter how hard I tried. Alex's letter told me all about the great weather and the growing baby and how happy she is – but nowhere can I find the bit that makes me think she's missing me. Or that she's sorry for what has happened. And the weather isn't THAT bad here actually. It's quite nice, the best summer we've had for years apparently, so it's just bad luck for Alex that she's missing it.