Eva's Journey (2 page)

Chapter Two

O
ver the next month or two, the changes happened so slowly, that at first I didn't really notice them.

Dad had always worked very long hours. Now he left home even earlier than before, and got back even later.

When he was at home though, he still hugged me and called me his princess.

He still read too many newspapers.

He still told totally unfunny jokes.

And so I thought everything was just fine.

And then one day, Dad came in from work, and it was like a dark cloud had come over the sun. For the first time in ages, I looked at him closely. He noticed that I was staring at him, and he
smiled, but it didn't work. His eyes were blank, like there was something missing – or like there was something else there, something so big that he couldn't see me properly any more.

After that, I noticed that Mum and Dad were fighting a lot. Of course they tried not to argue in front of me, but even in a big house like ours, there's only so much you can hide.

Other times, when I'd come in to a room, I'd find Mum and Dad clinging to each other like they were lost in the middle of the ocean, and that without each other they'd slowly sink to the bottom. That was so gross and scary that I began to wish they'd start fighting again.

Often when I got home from school, Mum's eyes were red. When she saw me, she'd smile a big watery smile.

‘Peeling onions again,' she'd say, rubbing her red eyes with the back of her hand.

What could I say to that?

Even if we had onion soup for breakfast, lunch and dinner, Mum wouldn't need that many
onions, but I
so
wasn't arguing.

After all, if I told her I didn't believe her, I'd have to ask her what was really wrong. And what is the point of asking questions when you absolutely don't want to hear the answer?

One day, when Victoria and I got to pony club, there was a new black pony there. We both ran over and began to stroke her smooth, shiny neck.

‘Omigod,' I said. ‘She's almost as beautiful as Velvet.'

(Poor Velvet was too old to ride now, and she spent her time resting in a field behind the stables.)

Just then the instructor came over.

‘Isn't she a beauty?' she said. ‘Her name's Jewel. Which one of you wants to ride her today?'

Victoria and I looked at each other and grinned.

‘We're going to take turns,' we said together.

‘You two,' said the instructor laughing, and she helped us to saddle up for our morning's riding.

Later, Victoria and I went outside to wait for
our mums to pick us up. While we'd been riding, I'd managed to forget about the troubles at home, but now they all came flooding back.

‘Can I tell you something,' I said.

Victoria turned to me.

‘Course you can,' she said. ‘What is it?'

I took a deep breath, but found that I didn't know how to begin.

Dad looks worried?

Mum cries a lot?

It all sounded too vague and too stupid. And besides, I was supposed to be the one with the ideal life, so how could I admit that things might not be quite so perfect after all?

‘Well?' said Victoria after a minute.

I tried to smile.

‘I still miss Velvet,' I said.

‘Me too,' said Victoria. ‘Let's come early next week, so that we can go and visit her.'

Just then I saw Mum's jeep coming along the road, and that was the end of that conversation.

The first big change hit my life like a party-popper exploding in my face. It happened over dinner one evening. For a change, Dad was there, but no one was saying much. It was like there was a cold, grey fog hanging over the table.

‘So, Mum,' I said, when I couldn't take the silence any more. ‘When are you going to book the flights to New York for our shopping trip? And don't forget we need to book two suitcases each this time. I've promised all my friends that I'll bring them back something.'

Mum looked at Dad, before turning to me with the bright, false smile that seemed to be her new favourite expression.

‘I think we'll give New York a miss this year, Eva. What do you think?'

I gasped.

‘I think that's a totally pathetic idea. We
have
to go on our shopping trip. If we don't, what am I supposed to wear for the next six months?'

‘How about some of the clothes in your three very large wardrobes?'

‘But all those clothes are totally ancient. You can't expect me to……' I gave a sudden laugh. ‘Hey, you nearly got me there. That was quite funny actually.'

Mum wasn't laughing. She was still wearing that stupid smile that looked like she'd painted it on.

‘You're kidding, right?' I said uncertainly.

Mum shook her head.

‘Wrong.'

‘But …'

There were so many ‘buts', I didn't know where to begin.

Mum folded her arms.

‘Listen Eva,' she began. ‘There's something you need to know. You see—'

‘No,' said Dad so suddenly that Mum and I both jumped. ‘Not now. Now's not the time to tell her.'

‘So when is the time?'

Dad sighed.

‘I don't know. But she's just a little girl. There's no need to burden her with our worries. Let her
alone for a while.'

‘Hello?' I said. ‘Remember me? My name is Eva. I'm your daughter. And I'm not a little girl – I'm twelve years old. And also, in case you haven't noticed. I'm still in the room.'

Now both of them turned to stare at me.

‘There are just a few things going on in Dad's business at the moment,' said Mum. ‘So it's not a good time for planning a New York shopping trip.'

Now Dad put on a fake smile to match the one that was once again plastered all over Mum's face.

‘You don't have to worry, Princess,' he said. ‘It'll all sort itself out in time.'

Did I believe him?

Not for one single second.

The next big change happened a week or two after that.

Mum and I were in the kitchen. Mum was at the cooker, stirring the dinner, and I was sitting at the island trying to look like I was studying for a
history test.

Then the door opened and Dad walked in.

‘Hi, darling,' Mum said without looking up. ‘I didn't hear your car in the drive.'

‘That's because my car isn't in the drive,' said Dad.

They weren't such bad words. Dad's car could have been in the garage, or he could have lent it to one of his friends. But something in the way Dad said those words made me drop my history book. It fell to the floor in a loud rustle of flapping pages, like it was an injured bird trying to fly.

For one second I wished that I was a bird.

I wished I could fly far away from this scene that was unfolding in front of me.

Dad had gone to sit at the kitchen table. He was pale and old-looking.

When had he started to look old?

And why hadn't I noticed it before?

Mum and I both walked towards him.

Dad put his head in his hands, like he couldn't
bring himself to look at us.

‘It's gone,' he said, through his closed fingers. ‘The car is gone. They came today and took it away.'

Why wasn't he angry?

Still, I could be plenty angry enough for the two of us.

‘Who came?' I asked. ‘Who took it away? How can someone come and just take your car away? Have you called the police? Do you want me to pass you the phone?'

Dad looked up, but I wished he hadn't. The look in his eyes scared me more than anything I'd ever seen before.

‘You don't understand, Princess,' he said. ‘I borrowed money to buy the car, and now I can't make the repayments. So the bank can take possession of the car. It's the law. There's nothing I can do about it.'

I felt like crying.

Dad loved his car.

I loved his car.

I loved the sleek, silver body-work.

I loved the smell and the feel of the leather seats.

I loved the way people stared at us whenever we drove it down the street.

But I
so
didn't love the look in my dad's eyes, and I knew I had to be strong.

‘It's just a car, Dad,' I said. ‘It's no big deal. And Mum still has the jeep if we want to go anywhere. And luckily your office isn't far from here. It'll probably be good for you to walk there every day. And…..'

I rambled on for a while, and then I stopped.

Suddenly I realised that I was missing the point. This wasn't just about the car.

I took a deep breath and asked another question, the one I should have been smart enough to ask in the first place.

‘Why can't you make the repayments?'

‘Because I haven't got enough money.'

His voice was hoarse and scary.

‘But you've got heaps of money. You're rich. You're richer than any of my friends' dads. You're
…'

I stopped talking. I didn't feel sure of anything any more. Dad put his face in his hands again, and Mum just stood there, still holding the wooden spoon, which was dripping curry sauce all over the shiny white floor tiles.

She put her other hand on Dad's back, and rubbed it gently, like he was a baby who'd drunk its bottle too fast.

‘I'm sorry, Eva,' she said. ‘We didn't know how to tell you. Dad's business has been doing very badly lately. It's not his fault. The recession has taken everyone by surprise. Things are going to have to change around here. We can't afford to live the way we used to.'

‘No!' I shouted the single word.

I wasn't stupid. I listened to the television and the radio. Sometimes I even read the headlines on the newspapers. I'd heard all about the recession. I'd heard about girls whose parents had lost their jobs. I
knew
times were hard.

But that was all about other people. That kind
of thing wasn't about us.