The Artificial Anatomy of Parks Read online

  My mouth felt dry all of a sudden. I put the microscope away in my schoolbag, fumbling with the straps. “He went away.”

  “Well. Pass on my regards to both of them,” Mr Henderson said.

  I left the classroom and was walking to my session with Mr Hicks when I heard someone call my name.

  “Tallie.”

  “Starr?”

  She was wearing ripped tights that day, and slinky little fur-lined boots. I noticed, with envy, that she’d put on thick black eye makeup and it made her eyes look huge. When I tried I always ended up looking like I’d been punched.

  “Tallie, are you hanging around with Toby Gates?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Watch yourself.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean… Don’t bite my head off again, but one of the girls in my year started a rumour that he only likes you because you’re blowing him.”

  “What?”

  “You know… oral sex.”

  “I know what it means,” I said, my face flushing. “I haven’t done it.”

  “Right,” she said, “well, she’s just jealous. He dumped her and she thinks she’s got more right to him because you’re so young, blah, blah.” She waved her hand. “But people talk. Especially about Toby – he’s hot, you know? But he’s been around. Just don’t get too close to him.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’ll get a reputation.”

  My heart was thudding angrily. “I’m meant to be afraid of what people are going to say?” I asked as two girls walking past stared at us. “You know they used to talk about me all the time, right?”

  “You always were a stubborn little brat,” Starr said. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” I said. “It’s been fun.”

  Starr rolled her eyes and walked off. I watched her go. I felt sick about Toby, that he could have liked other girls before me, maybe more than me. In fact, I didn’t even know if he did like me.

  I barely paid attention to what Mr Hicks was saying in the session. I finally came around and realised he was waiting for an answer from me.

  “What?”

  “How’s netball?” he repeated. “I hear we’re on course for the gold in the county championships?”

  “Yeah, good.”

  “I like your top, by the way – green’s a good colour on you.”

  “Thanks,” I said, confused.

  “Are you alright, Tallulah? You seem a little distracted.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you worried about going home for the holidays?”

  “No, my dad’s away. I’m staying with my cousins.”

  “It probably makes it harder – getting to know each other – if he’s not around?”

  “I guess.” My father seemed to only use his study and his bedroom now anyway. Days could go by with both of us living there and not running into each other.

  “It’s difficult, being a teenager,” Mr Hicks said. “Adults forget that, but it’s a real period of change, both within and without. It helps if you have a stable environment.” He pushed his chair back, “Which is why I’m so pleased that we’ve been having these mentoring sessions. I really feel like you’re coming along. And I hope you feel the same way?”

  “Yeah. I like coming here.”

  “Good,” he said, rummaging among the papers on his desk. “I’m going to give you my mobile number. I’m not really supposed to, so best if you don’t tell anyone, but I don’t want the good influence of these sessions to stop just because you’re outside school grounds. Okay?” He handed me a scrap of paper with a number printed carefully onto it. I put it in my pocket, furtively. I could imagine what Edith would say if she found it.

  I turned up on Aunt Gillian’s doorstep, rucksack over one shoulder, a stack of required reading in one hand and a cat-carrier in the other.

  “Come in, come in,” Aunt Gillian said. “Let me take those books off you.” She led the way down the corridor. “I’ve put you in Michael’s room, he’s in Cambridge and they don’t get a half-term.”

  “Cool.”

  “The other two are off next week. I just don’t know where the time goes – James in his final year, and you and Georgia doing your GCSEs.” She put the books down, hugged me then stepped back.

  “Now,” she said. “You’ll have to excuse me, I’m in the middle of dinner. Make yourself comfortable and come join me in the kitchen whenever you’re ready.”

  I went upstairs and let Mr Tickles out of the carrier. He shook himself and jumped onto the bed, then curled up and went to sleep.

  “Fine,” I said to him, and went downstairs.

  Aunt Gillian was pouring glugs of wine into a pan. The radio was on, a pop station, and she snapped it off when I came in then laughed guiltily. “Force of habit – George doesn’t like me to listen to that kind of music. He says it rots my brain.”

  “I don’t mind,” I said, sitting down. “Who’s your favourite, then?”

  She blushed. “That nice Australian man, I like him. Very thin, dark hair.”

  “Nick Cave?”

  “You’re laughing at me.” She switched the radio on again. The DJ was talking now about Ireland’s recent decision to legalise divorce, and Aunt Gillian pulled a face. “People are too quick to give up on marriage these days, that’s the problem,” she said.

  I tried to clear my throat noncommittally. “Can I help with dinner?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “How’s Michael?”

  “He’s doing very well. He’ll be living in Rome next year as part of his year abroad.”

  “Cool.”

  “And how’s everything going for you?”

  “Yeah, good.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I guess I’m on track for the exams.”

  “Oh, how wonderful,” she said, beaming at me. “You’ve found your feet, then.” She ground some salt and pepper into the pan. “I always knew you would. It just takes some of us longer than others.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “And what do you think you’ll do after the exams? Any celebration plans?”

  “Dunno. There’ll probably be some parties I’ll go to with my friends.”

  “That sounds terribly exciting,” Aunt Gillian said. “You must be very popular then.” I winced a little at how enthusiastic she seemed to be about my having friends. I must have been almost given up as a lost cause. “I’m going to take Georgia to Milan for a week on a little shopping trip, a reward. You’d be very welcome to join us. We could make it a real girls’ holiday.” She beamed at me again.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I might go see Grandma, though.”

  “Oh, you’re too nice for your own good, Tallulah. You’re allowed to do something for yourself you know.”

  “It’s a nice offer,” I said, smiling at her.

  She came around to give me a hug. “I’m very proud of you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “We all are, you know that? Especially Edward. He’s so proud.”

  “I’m… ” I started to say, before I heard the front door open.

  “Mummy, something smells delicious,” Georgia called out.

  “Oh good – they’re home,” Aunt Gillian said to me. “I’m making lamb, sweetheart,” she called to Georgia. “Come and say hello to your cousin, then set the table.”

  Georgia bounded in. She hadn’t changed that much, I thought. She was plump and pretty, her uniform straining around her chest, and her shoelaces undone. “Hi Tallie,” she said, throwing her arms around me.

  James came and stood in the doorway behind her. He looked different – he was pale and his nose and chin seemed sharper. “Hi, Tallie,” he said, his voice was surprisingly low. “Get me a beer, Mum.”

  “Oh, alright then.” She brought over a can of Heineken. “But not too many before dinner – you must have homework.”

  “Whatever.”


  Georgia went to the far drawer of the kitchen dresser and took out cutlery and napkins, then sneezed loudly, turning her face away from the things in her hands.

  “Are you still coming down with something, sweetheart?”

  “I think so.”

  “Well, you better not touch those, then.”

  Aunt Gillian finished setting the table, while Georgia coughed and blew her nose into a handful of tissues and I tried to turn my face away without being rude.

  For most of that week, I lurked in the music room, reading, or feeding Mr Tickles leftovers, while Georgia stayed in bed.

  The Saturday before I was due back at school, I took the tray up for her. The room was stuffy and Georgia was propped up on about four pillows. She waved and looked glad to see me.

  “Dinnertime,” I said, putting the broth down on the bedside table. “This reminds me of Grandma’s.”

  Georgia widened her eyes. “Oh I never asked – how was it? Living with her?”

  “I wanted to stay longer, but she got ill.”

  “Yeah, Mum was upset about Grandma chucking her out,” Georgia said. She pulled a face. “She really likes looking after people.”

  “How come it was my dad that became the doctor then?”

  “Mum doesn’t think women should work. Not after having kids, anyway.” She blew her nose and pulled the bedcovers up to her chest.

  “What about Vivienne? Is she a secret call-girl or something?”

  “Oh,” Georgia giggled, “Mum says Starr’s dad is really rich and famous. And married. I think he sends them money so they stay out the picture. Kind of sordid, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said, and I felt sorry for Aunt Vivienne, and for Starr. “And Uncle Jack – do you know what he did after…?”

  “No idea,” Georgia said. “I’m so sorry I missed your visit.” She plucked at the bedcovers.

  “Your mum invited me to Milan.”

  “Oh God, you have to come. She’s so excited about it, but nothing’s going to fit me out there, it’ll just be super expensive clothes for skinny Italians.”

  “I might.”

  “Are you coming back over Easter at least?”

  “I’ll be at Grandma’s. And the boys are in their last year, so I guess they might wanna go on holiday before uni.”

  She clutched my wrist. “You hang out with older boys? How did I not know this?”

  “They’re exactly the same as boys our age,” I said, but I could feel my skin warming.

  “Tallie, do you have a boyfriend?” Georgia asked, suspiciously.

  “No.”

  “I can’t believe you’ve been here this whole time and you never said anything.”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend,” I protested. “Seriously.”

  “Do you like a boy, then?”

  “I dunno.”

  Georgia threw her hands up. “You’re so secretive! You’re as bad as Michael.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “Do you have any good-looking friends?”

  “Toby’s kind of hot.”

  “Who does he look like?”

  “Like, have you ever seen Boy Meets World?”

  “Yeah, you mean like the main guy? The one with curly hair?”

  “No, his best friend – the one with the big eyebrows.”

  “Oh… He’s cute,” she said.

  “I thought he was going to kiss me this one time. But, we haven’t done anything.”

  “I bet he likes you,” she said. “Is he nice?”

  I didn’t meet her eye. “I don’t know – he’s cool, yeah.”

  “How does he make you feel?”

  “Confused,” I said. “Like I’m tongue-tied, I guess. He’s funny, and I can never think of anything funny to say back.” I dug some dirt out from underneath one thumbnail with the other. “He smells nice, as well. And he can bend his thumbs all the way back to touch his arm.” I tried to show her.

  “It sounds like you like him,” Georgia said, lying back in bed. “But I don’t know – Mummy says I’m too young for a boyfriend, anyway. You have to tell me what happens. Call me.”

  A few days after I got back to school, I came down with whatever Georgia had. I was in the San for four days then they moved me back to the dorm when I wasn’t infectious any more. Toby brought me pink roses that made me glow inside, until he admitted they were Edith’s idea. Being alone with him felt even more confusing than before – I couldn’t work out if he was being flirty or shifty. He offered to read Tom Sawyer to me, which I’d only gone back to after Aunt Gillian had gone on about how proud of me my father was, but then seemed tongue-tied when Edith arrived with a new hairstyle and plucked eyebrows, and couldn’t get out of the room fast enough.

  “Did I disturb something?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Oh, I nearly forgot, Mr Hicks said to give you this.” She held out a pink card.

  I propped myself up on my elbows. There was a quick thumbnail sketch on the front, a girl lying in bed and a doctor checking her chart. Underneath he’d written:

  What is it, Doctor?

  I’m afraid you have a bad case of nothing much.

  Then why are you afraid?

  It’s contagious.

  “I don’t get it,” Edith said. “But don’t you think it’s cute?”

  “Yeah, it’s nice. He’s nice,” I flopped back onto the pillow. “I need to sleep.”

  She pottered around for a few moments. “Do you mind if I go find Toby then?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Jesus… ”

  “Okay, I’m going.”

  She skipped out the door. I tried to sleep, but I kept thinking about how pleased Toby had seemed to see me. I felt sure it was real.

  My flu didn’t last much longer. When Edith saw me polish off a bowlful of jelly she let the school nurse know I was better.

  “Thanks a lot,” I said.

  “I can’t live with the windows open anymore,” she said apologetically. “I’m probably getting ill now.”

  I had to go around collecting assignments from all the classes I’d missed. Mr Hicks was the only one to let me off.

  “Thanks for the card,” I said, feeling awkward.

  “Glad to have you back,” he said, squeezing my shoulder.

  I took a detour back from the studio, past the fourth floor. The corridor was lined with framed photos, and eventually, I came to the hockey team, 1971-2. My heart sped up as I looked at it, and at the guy in the middle of the front row. His hair was longer than I remembered, and fell over one eye, but the other eye looked directly at the camera, creased up in a smile. Uncle Jack was happy in the photo, in a way I’d never seen him happy before.

  April came. My father rang me up early on my birthday to send me his wishes. I could almost see him checking it off in his diary. “How’s everything going over there?” he asked.

  “Good. Dad, I can go stay with Grandma this Easter, right?”

  “If that’s what you want. Will you be coming to London at all?”

  “For the first few days.”

  “I’ll see if I can take the time off,” my father said. “The cat sends his – hmm – love.”

  “Can you put him on the phone?”

  There was a short pause, then I could hear a strange metallic rasping on the other end. “Hi, Mr Tickles,” I said.

  “He washed the receiver,” my father said, coming back on.

  “I miss him,” I said. “I’ll call about when I’m coming home.”

  “Well, happy returns, Tallulah.”

  We rang off. I wished Malkie would appear to take me out for the day, but I hadn’t heard from him since he left for Canada.

  Edith gave me a bracelet while we were standing in the lunch queue. I was touched when I unwrapped it. I’d seen it in a jewellery shop in the village, and I knew it cost a lot.

  “Do you like it?” she asked anxiously.

  “Yeah
, Ed,” I told her. “It’s beautiful.”

  She beamed.

  Starr found me in the hallway and gave me a card from Aunt Vivienne and a book voucher. “Spend it wisely,” she said, and grinned at me. “Mum’s no good at presents, sorry about that.”

  I grinned back. “Thanks. And sorry for… ”

  “No worries.”

  “Tell your mum thanks, too.”

  “If I must.” She gave me a quick hug and jogged off.

  Toby and the guys were waiting on our usual bench when me and Edith took our lunch trays outside. They cheered when they saw us.

  “You told them?” I asked her.

  “Yeah, come on,” she said, giggling.

  I followed her over. “Guys… ” I said, putting my tray down. “I don’t want to make a big fuss.”

  “It’s not a big fuss,” Toby said.

  “Sweet sixteen,” John said. “Now you can smoke after sex.”

  “Cool,” I said. “I think.”

  Toby was sitting next to me and he laid a present down in front of us carefully.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Unwrap it.”

  It was a paint brush set, in a black, canvas case, with individual pockets for each brush. The brushes were shiny and clean. I took one out and slipped the protective plastic off, stroking the head across the back of my hand.

  “How much was that?” John said suspiciously.

  “I thought you’d like them,” Toby said. “You said you like art class.” I found myself noticing a small brown mole, just beneath his left ear, and then his ears themselves, which were pink and curly like question marks, and then I was looking into his eyes, which really were very green. He looked back at me, and I felt a warmth in my abdomen that spread downwards.

  “Thanks,” I said, looking down at the brushes. “I love them.”

  Fourteen

  If I could freeze my life at a single point and say – this is where I could have been happy, if it’d stayed like this – would I have chosen that moment? Or would I go back much earlier, to before my mother died?

  I buy a coffee this time – maybe I really am an addict – and take it to out into the corridor to drink. I lean back against the wall. If I’d never gone to boarding school, I’d never have met Toby. Maybe I’d have met someone else, maybe it would have been more straightforward. But maybe not.