Molly and Pim and the Millions of Stars (11 page)

CHAPTER 15

Best Friends

Molly sat on the rack on the back of Pim's bike. It was much less comfortable than
the yellow bike and she yelped when they went over the kerb.

‘Sorry,' Pim said, ‘I warned you.'

‘You don't have to ride like a maniac, though.'

‘I do actually, if you want to get there on time and you should go in before me so
nothing looks out of the ordinary. Otherwise, everyone at school will start wondering.'

‘Not just everyone at school, the authorities too,' said Molly, with a shudder as
she thought of
her chocolate balls crammed in the fridge. ‘And they'll take me to
an orphanage and whip me if I'm bad.'

‘And you'll probably die of pneumonia too, and be buried in a shallow grave and—'

‘Not funny,' grouched Molly.

But Molly's absence hadn't gone unnoticed. It turned out she was quite late, and
when she entered the classroom things were already underway.

Miss Todd threw her arms in the air. She was holding a pair of scissors in one hand.
Her red hair was bundled in an extravagant bun as usual and her dress, which was
a bold lilac-and-purple floral, hugged her large, round body with the air of drama
that Miss Todd liked.

‘Molly, dear, I was just about to call your mother to find out if you were unwell
too.'

Ester Morhigg stood beside Miss Todd and stared at Molly.

‘We're making get-well cards,' Miss Todd explained, taking Molly protectively by
the shoulders. ‘Have you been unwell?'

‘No,' said Molly. ‘My mama was unwell and I had to take care of her.' She tried to
keep her explanation as close to truthful as possible. Her mama thought that the
truth was important, and somehow the things her mama thought mattered more now than
they had before. Before, when her mama talked about things such as truth and kindness,
Molly had never paid much attention.

Before Miss Todd could inquire further about her mama's health, and before Molly
would have to entangle herself further in her small dance with the quiet untruth,
Molly asked who they were making get-well cards for.

‘Why, for Ellen Palmer! She's gravely ill.
Would you like to make a card too?'

Molly gazed around the class to make sure this was true. Ellen was not there.

Miss Todd's words ‘gravely ill' boomed in Molly's head. What did they mean? Was Ellen,
her best friend, lying on her bed with her eyes closed, deathly pale? Molly took
a piece of coloured card and headed for a desk. And why had life suddenly steered
so far off course? First her own mama and now Ellen, her best friend.

‘Why is your hair so messy? Looks like a bird's nest,' said Ester Morhigg. ‘Look
at my card; I drew a horse. Ellen likes horses.' She shoved her card in front of
Molly's face. The horse was running across a field of green.

‘I didn't know Ellen liked horses that much,' Molly said softly. Perhaps she didn't
know Ellen as well as she thought. Perhaps Ester Morhigg knew her better. Ellen was
gravely ill and Molly didn't even know. Her heart wobbled with an unfamiliar weight.

Molly stared at her blank card. She picked up
her scissors. Her hand shook. A large
tear rolled down her nose and dropped onto Ester's horse card. Miss Todd let out
a gasp and flew to Molly's side. Molly stared in horror at the damp blob on the card.
It was as if she had leaked. She wiped her eye and bit at her lip, determined no
more would escape. She had promised herself never to cry, and she wasn't going to
give in now.

‘Molly. What's the matter? Is it your mum?' Miss Todd patted her back.

Molly nodded, and then she shook her head, and then she felt so confused she had
to close her eyes and hold her breath and make everything stop. Then she stared at
Miss Todd's big wide eyes and took a deep breath. ‘I'm all right. I'm just tired,
and I haven't got any lunch, and I'm worried for Ellen.'

All these things were true, but perhaps the truest of all of this was that she was
worried for her mama, and this was the one thing she couldn't say.

Miss Todd nodded. ‘You poor lamb. Come on. I'm going to take you to the tuckshop
right now.
Is your mother still in bed?'

Molly wished her mama was in bed. She just nodded, happy to be glided out of the
classroom and to land in the tuckshop where she ordered a sausage roll with sauce.
After that, Molly felt she could face the rest of the day at school. But as soon
as the bell rang, she ran all the way to the bridge where she found Pim waiting for
her, just as they had arranged. He was leaning over the rails, staring into the creek.

‘I'm not coming home right away,' Molly said dramatically. ‘Ellen Palmer is gravely
ill, so I have to go and visit her.'

‘Ellen Palmer? Gravely ill? Who said that?' Pim scoffed, as he tossed his bag on
his shoulder.

‘Miss Todd.'

‘Miss Todd? But Miss Todd exaggerates everything. She thinks you're potentially
dying if you cough.' Pim threw a stone in the creek. It landed with an undramatic
plop.

‘Even so, I have to go. Ellen
is
my best friend. Will you come to my house later?'
Molly still
wanted Pim to help. She needed him. She had even felt happy to see him
leaning there lazily on the bridge with his hands dangling and his long legs crossed.

Pim shrugged and nodded.

‘Okay. I'll see you in an hour.' He turned to go and then he stopped. ‘If Ellen's
your best friend, why didn't you tell her about your mum turning into a tree?'

Molly gaped. Pim wasn't afraid to say anything, even if it wasn't his business. How
would he ever understand all the reasons she couldn't tell Ellen? He didn't understand
Ellen like she did.

Molly frowned and lifted her nose proudly. ‘Ellen's quite sensitive. It would upset
her. I didn't want her to worry about me.' Molly turned away and she walked as fast
as she could. It was true, Ellen would worry. But what she hadn't said was that Ellen
would be terrified of something as unearthly as this. She may not even believe it.
But Molly wasn't going to give Pim a chance to venture an opinion. She didn't want
to hear it, whatever it was.

CHAPTER 16

Snakebite

Ellen's mother had short brown hair, large shoulders and sturdy shoes. She smiled
easily and laughed in happy bursts, her voice always with a firm sound to it. But
when she opened the door to Molly she looked quite a different sort of woman. She
wasn't as upright, and instead of sturdy shoes she wore slippers and blue pyjama
pants, and everything about her seemed crumpled. But she gathered herself and stood
straight, and she burst out, ‘Oh, Molly, we're so worried.' She drew Molly towards
her, and ushered her into the
kitchen. Ellen's crumpled mother poured Molly a blackcurrant
cordial, and she perched on a kitchen stool, seeming too tired to stand.

‘May I see Ellen?' said Molly. ‘I haven't been at school so I only just heard she
was sick. What's wrong with her?'

‘Well, that's the problem, Molly. No one knows exactly. It all started with the snakebite.'

Molly gasped. Of all people, Ellen was the least likely person to get bitten by a
snake. She refused to walk in long grass or to climb over woodpiles or even to swim
sometimes in the creek, all because of the possibility of snakes. ‘Was it a brown?'
Brown snakes were deadly, but so were tigers.

‘It was a brown,' Ellen's mother said. ‘It was in the shower. We don't know how it
got in there. But we took her to the hospital quickly enough. She should have recovered,
but she hasn't…'

Ellen's mum stopped and tilted her head, as if the weight of it all was leaning on
her and she might topple over. She sighed and looked out the
window at the garden
with its brisk arrangement of lawn, fence and tree.

‘Now there are complications. Ellen is very weak and she can't seem to eat much.
But I'm sure she will be happy you're here. She has been upset that she hasn't seen
you.'

Molly dropped her gaze. She was ashamed. What sort of best friend takes so long to
visit? But she couldn't explain. She bit her lip to keep it all in.

Ellen's mother led Molly into the bedroom, which was dim as the curtains were drawn.
Ellen's mother changed as she entered the room. She spoke to Ellen in firm, reassuring
tones, as if there was very little wrong. She sat at Ellen's side, told her Molly
was there, and patted and kissed her before getting up to leave them alone.

Ellen lay on her back. Her hair was not in plaits but fell around her head as if
it had spilled. She turned to see Molly. It seemed a great effort for her to do that,
but her face brightened immediately.

‘Hi, Ellen.' Molly knelt down next to her.

‘I'm pretty sick,' said Ellen.

‘I'm sorry I didn't come earlier. I didn't know you were sick.'

Ellen struggled to sit up a bit.

‘I can't believe you got bitten by a snake,' said Molly. ‘Did it hurt a lot? It must
have. But why are you still sick? Why can't you eat?'

Ellen blinked as if this rapid fire of questions was more than she had the energy
or will to consider. Then she lay back to stare at the ceiling and sighed.

‘Because I don't feel like it.' She blinked again. ‘I'm too tired to eat or walk
or anything.'

‘Well, you have to eat. Even if you don't want to. Just see it like maths, something
you have to
do.'

Ellen dismissed this wisdom with a slight frown. ‘Has your mama come back from Cuba
yet?' Ellen said, and Molly was glad to see her face gather itself to express something,
even if it was worry.

‘Not yet. I didn't go back to school till today.'

Ellen stared incomprehensibly at Molly. She closed her eyes for a moment.

‘Why didn't you want me to help? Did you think I would be too scared?'

‘No, of course not. It was just…I was just managing fine on my own. And…' Molly stopped.
She was going to say that since Ellen hadn't really taken the threat of the Grimshaws
seriously that had made her think Ellen wouldn't take any of it seriously, but Ellen
was sick and she didn't need to be worried by Molly's feelings.

‘And Ellen, you're my best friend, and I can't get on with life till you're better.
I'm going to make you something, and you have to promise me you
will use it and get
well.'

‘Okay,' Ellen smiled, and she looked for a moment like her old self. Molly stood
up. She squeezed Ellen's hand and left the room.

Molly was convinced that all Ellen needed was a little bit of courage and surely
she had that. Ellen could sing loudly and beautifully in front of anyone, while dancing
too. That took something. Was it courage? Maybe confidence. Ellen had that. She had
her own kind of strength.