The Butterfly Shell Page 4

  I really liked the experiment he did where he staged a robbery and then put people into a trance so they could remember the details of what they saw. And even people who said they didn’t notice anything suddenly remembered the logo on the thief’s shirt.

  This skill would have come in so handy when I was doing my files. Usually by the time I got home I was too tired to fill them in – mostly because of my broken sleeps – and when I did get to them I couldn’t remember what to write and they were all a bit vague and not that interesting.

  8

  I was kind of glad Stella had called on me even though she didn’t stay long. I hardly ever have people come to the house. When I was in primary school my mam thought it was because I was shy but really it was because I thought there was something wrong with our house. It was too quiet, like not enough people lived in it.

  I can always hear my mam and dad talking about me and there is never enough noise or colour in the air. I like my bedroom though. We have three bedrooms: one is Mam and Dad’s, one is mine and one is the guest room. That’s the one that used to be Other Marie’s room when she was alive.

  Mam said it used to have yellow and white striped wallpaper and a white rocking chair and a little white dresser but she got rid of everything after Marie died and now it looks completely different. It sort of looks like a hotel room now – nice but always very tidy. One wall is maroon and the rest are white and the duvet on the bed is maroon and the lamp beside the bed has a maroon shade and it’s all very matchy if you know what I mean. Aunt Kate and Uncle Dan stay there when they visit from Canada and so does Uncle Brian when he comes on business.

  My bedroom is a tiny bit smaller but I like it. The walls are light blue and the blind is blue with white clouds on it and I have two bookshelves – one at the end of the bed and one beside the wardrobe. I don’t want to give away my books – even the babyish ones. Mam keeps saying we should give the old ones to Oxfam but I sometimes reread the easy ones when I don’t have anything good to read or when I feel a bit sick or nervous. I know that’s a bit childish so I just tell her I’m sentimental and can’t part with them yet and that usually stops her saying anything about Oxfam for a few months. I have a chair and a desk by the window too – that’s where Stella sat when she came.

  I used to have lots of things on the wall like photographs from holidays and tickets from the plane we took to visit Canada last summer and pictures of seals from when I was in my Save the Seal phase and class pictures, but I took them all down. I thought I would try for a more minimalist look now that I’m in secondary school. There are bits of Blu-Tack stuck to the walls from where I took things down which I kind of like but Mam keeps telling me to take off. What I also like about my room is that Dad hung a light on the wall beside my bed and I hardly have to reach to turn it off at night when I finish reading.

  I think Mam wishes I would have more people over. I heard her say to Dad she thought I had gone into myself ever since the confirmation, but that wasn’t really true. I think the whole confirmation thing bothered her more than it bothered me although it did bother me a bit.

  Last year, in Sixth Class, a boy called Hossein and I were the only ones not making our confirmation. I didn’t make my communion either but we went to Cork at the same time as that was happening so I don’t really remember much about it except that when I got back everyone seemed to have loads of money.

  But confirmation was different. The teacher never stopped talking about what a big deal it was and about how it set you apart from the others and how you would then be a soldier of Christ which she definitely made sound like you would be better than everyone else. She said all this in front of me and Hossein as well. And he was one of the nicest boys in the class.

  Mam and Dad said I could get new clothes and we would all go to the church but Dad was very firm when I suggested maybe I could do my confirmation too. I was actually wondering what it would feel like to be a soldier of Christ even if it was only for a day. But he said, ‘No, you won’t be taking part Marie because confirmation is for Catholics and you aren’t even baptised not to mention it would be hypocritical to pretend to be a Catholic for that one day. Even though I’ve no doubt that’s what some of your classmates will be doing.’

  The actual ceremony was a bit boring but Dad let me use his video camera because I wanted to record it and I almost had a heart attack when I thought I had cracked the camera when I sort of dropped it on the pew when we were sitting down. I was trying to figure out how much babysitting I’d have to do to replace it when Dad asked for it and I had to give it to him. He said, ‘Good Lord I don’t know how you could see anything with this hair over the lens – I thought it was a crack at first.’ I was so relieved it was a hair and not a crack that I completely enjoyed the rest of the ceremony even though it did seem to go on for ever.

  Because we were sitting behind the class I could see the boys hitting each other on the arm when they thought no one was looking. I couldn’t believe how many people’s phones went off. Dad said it was probably because they were the types who never went to church except for weddings or communions or confirmations. I’m not sure why he got so worked up about it.

  The priest hardly seemed to notice although it really drove our principal Mrs Byrne mad. She started doing the really tight mouth thing she did whenever she was angry in Assembly. Which was all the time by the way.

  So, the Confirmation Day itself wasn’t really the problem. It was the following Monday when Mrs Byrne announced there would be a gathering in the Hall for the confirmation class – only those who had made their confirmation would attend. The rest of the class (which meant just me since Hossein was out that day) would spend that time in the computer room.

  It turned out that the ‘gathering’ was a party. No prayers or anything, just sweets and crisps and cans of Coke. I was very surprised when Anthony and Sam, who I don’t even know that well, separately managed to sneak out of the party and bring me some crisps and Coke. I think Anthony did it because he wanted to see if he could do it without getting caught. I think Sam did it because he felt sorry for me. I didn’t care why – I thought it was nice.

  But I wouldn’t have said anything about the party to my parents if I thought they were going to make such a big deal about it. The next day my mam went storming into the school to talk to Mrs Byrne. I overheard her telling Dad about it: ‘I told that woman in no uncertain terms that no child should be excluded from a party. A party for God’s sake! The board is going to hear about this.’

  After that there was just one month until the end of school so I tried not to think about it. I got my silent revenge by never looking at Mrs Byrne in the eyes again. Even when she addressed me I’d look at her face but just beside her eyes or just over her shoulder. I’m pretty sure she hated that but she wasn’t the kind of person who really showed what she was feeling so who knows.

  The class photograph that year was actually of the confirmation class which meant I wasn’t in it which was one of the reasons I took down everything from my wall.

  *

  The nights were getting worse. Once I woke up and heard Other Marie crying and it sounded like she was under my bed. I sort of held my breath and just lay perfectly still even though I really wanted to call out for Mam and finally she stopped or I went to sleep I’m not sure which. Another time I heard her just before I fell asleep and that was the scariest of all. Was she going to start taking over my waking hours as well? That only happened once. The rest of the times I woke in the middle of the night and sometimes I was awake for ages. I was so tired.

  *

  The only problem with having a midterm break is that you have to have a first day again. It was a bit worse than the real first day because now I knew what to expect. The teachers didn’t call me Other Marie, but it seemed that no one else had forgotten about that over the break and when I came in to school Rachel said, ‘Oh hi Other Marie – or should I just say O.M.?’

  Cue lots of ridiculous laugh
ter from the five morons who surrounded her.

  In English I sat where I always sat but then Claire and Jade moved at the same time so there was a big space beside me.

  Stella sat at the very back but she always put a red pencil on the chair in front of her and an orange one behind her so no one would sit in front or behind her. Apparently the sides didn’t matter. And not once did anyone move the pencils or try to sit near her. The meanest anyone ever got (and almost everyone did this) was people said, ‘Hi Stella Stella.’ And she would say, ‘Hi hi’ as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

  When I realised that nothing had changed I tried very hard not to cry and I picked at a scab on my knee under the desk to distract me. I cut my knee when we went to Sandymount Strand the first Sunday of the break and I fell on the beach racing my dad back to the car. It was quite sore when it happened. Bits of shell and seaweed were stuck in the cut and I didn’t take them out till I got home. I sort of wanted to make a spectacular entrance. And it worked. Mam was very concerned and started throwing Dettol at it saying, ‘Frank, for goodness sake why don’t you go to the bakery and get some éclairs or something?’

  I was in the middle of nearly getting the scab off when Mr McGuire came in and said, ‘Now. About the book reports.’ Suddenly lots of girls started panicking and flinging their arms in the air saying, ‘Sir, Sir, I left mine at home’ or, ‘Sir, Sir, mine is finished but I was going to print it out but we ran out of ink.’

  ‘Sir, Sir.’

  And Mr McGuire being the understanding gentleman and best teacher this school has ever seen in my opinion (although to be fair I don’t really know that many teachers as I’m only in First Year) said, ‘Relax girls – you have until Friday to get it in which you would know if you had written the due date in your journals. What I was going to say was, would anyone who is finished like to read theirs out loud?’ Then he looked at me and I felt my neck and face go red and without even realising what I was doing I put up my hand. I knew everyone would hate me for being finished but it didn’t seem like things could get much worse on that front. I was also a bit worried that someone would notice my knee with the half picked scab and think it was gross. But by the time I got to the ending – the part which if I do say so myself almost brought tears to my eyes – I noticed it was very quiet in the room, a listening quiet. Then everyone clapped. Really clapped. Not with big woo-hoos like when someone popular does something and everyone wants to get away from doing real work so they get kind of carried away – just real clapping. As if they thought it was good. Though I know it would be going too far to say it was as if they liked me.

  Never underestimate the power of the written word for that lunchtime was the first time Rachel asked me if I wanted to go with them to the canteen. At our school you can either eat your lunch in your base room or in the room with the long tables and the vending machines that everyone calls the lunchroom. One of the machines is filled with bottled water and Nutri-Grain bars and the other has chocolate Wagon Wheels, Wine Gums, Skittles, Crunchies, Cokes, Diet Cokes, Fantas and Lucozades. I’ll let you guess which machine gets more business. I actually like Nutri-Grain bars but I never buy them there because Mam buys them in bulk to put in my lunchbox.

  Rachel made a big deal of saying, ‘Sit here beside me Marie.’

  I should have known something was up when she didn’t call me Other Marie but I was so pleased I didn’t see the signs. Rachel’s lunch consisted of a Wagon Wheel and a Lucozade, and she thought it was cute that I was eating an egg salad sandwich from home. Then she got to the point. Since I was so good at writing how would I like to do her English homework for her and to make it sound like she had written it. She would copy it in her own handwriting before handing it in. In exchange I could go with them to Dundrum Town Centre on Friday after school.

  For one thing, I probably wouldn’t be allowed to go to Dundrum Town Centre and if I was I wouldn’t have any money to buy anything. But more importantly than that it felt like cheating and I wanted no part of it so I said, ‘I don’t think so.’

  You should have seen her face. She kept smiling and was all nicey nice and said, ‘Oh, all right.’ But as we were getting ready to go to class she said very very quietly so only I could hear, ‘You’ll be sorry.’ And the way she said it made me feel sorry already and I knew then I had made a terrible mistake. But I didn’t know how to fix it because she was off with her entourage surrounding her on the way to Geography.

  After school when I went to use the bathroom Nicole and Claire were in there and they stopped talking as soon as I came in and just stared at me and then they were silent until I went into the cubicle and then they started whispering and laughing their heads off and I know it was about me. How I looked or something I said or maybe Rachel had told them I said no and they were plotting some revenge.

  When I got to my locker Rachel was leaning against it and talking to Jade and even though both their lockers are way down at the end of the hall they stayed there for ages and when I said, ‘Excuse me,’ they acted like I was invisible.

  When I got home I wanted to go straight to bed I was so tired of it all. Instead I started my Home Ec homework. We had to make a display of different stitches on a piece of coloured felt.

  I don’t even know why I did it but I sort of scratched my arm accidentally on purpose with the needle and it felt awful and good at the same time. I knew it wouldn’t leave a scab because it was so light so I did it again deeper and although it hurt I felt like I could breathe again. It reminded me of when I felt the blood coursing through my veins the day the bird was in our house.

  That night was the first night in ages I didn’t hear Other Marie and so I slept through and when I woke up I didn’t dread going to school – I felt like there was something to look forward to even if I couldn’t remember what it was. Then I checked my arm and remembered. The scab would be perfect for picking at if things didn’t go well in school. Mam asked me in a worried voice if I had slept well and I said, ‘Yes fine,’ and had two waffles for breakfast which seemed to take the worry out of her eyes.

  *

  Thank God I had the cut is all I can say because Rachel was in full swing. It started when I came to my locker and the six of them stared and stared at me until I got my books and went into class.

  Most of that day I tried not to notice the staring and the blocking me in the halls. I pretended I didn’t care. In Religion class I started picking at the cut and it felt good and I didn’t really hear what was going on in class but the time flew and soon it was time for English.

  We weren’t supposed to have our phones on in school but absolutely everyone – even Stella I bet – had theirs on silent or at least turned them on between classes to check them for texts. Usually my texts were hellos from Dad but that day I got one from an unknown number.

  think I’ll forward lovely picture of you that I have to Mr McGuire

  For a minute I felt sick but I’m not a complete idiot. I knew it was probably from Rachel and she has never taken a picture of me as far as I know and also she couldn’t possibly have Mr McGuire’s number and even if she did she would hardly send a text from her phone knowing it could be traced.

  But still I felt embarrassed which I’m sure was Rachel’s plan all along. Well done Rachel. Bull’s eye. My neck and face were hot which meant I was blotchy and red so I didn’t answer any of the questions even though I really liked the short story we were doing which is called ‘The Gift’, all about a sick boy who gets to meet his football hero.

  *

  Before I started at St Bridget’s Mam said, ‘An all-girls school will be a great place to make friends. If you use half the energy you put towards your reading and spend it trying to make friends I’m sure you will meet some lovely girls.’ She doesn’t get that when I’m reading I don’t feel stupid – there’s no chance of getting things wrong.

  At school I seemed to get even the simplest things wrong and when I did Rachel always managed to be there. I did
my best not to show anything but she seemed to know when indeed she had hit a bull’s eye. I know if I told anyone the things she did they would just think I was crazy so I said nothing and read.

  *

  That night after I did my own homework, I just lay on my bed and looked at all my old books. I almost picked up a Famous Five book to read but instead I started thinking about how Enid Blyton must have had so much fun imagining she was those kids on adventures. I wondered if I could do that, and so I picked up my pen and pretended I was Rachel and I did the homework again, making the kind of mistakes I thought Rachel might make. It was really easy.

  When I finished that I scraped my arm again with the needle and again that night Other Marie did not wake me and although I was relieved I sort of missed her and hoped I would hear from her again.

  The next day I could feel the cuts on my arm sort of throbbing. Stella kept staring at the spot just above my elbow on my left arm. I knew she couldn’t actually see through my jumper and she couldn’t have known about the cuts but she is very observant and I felt like she knew. Is that possible?

  We had a spare class before English so I folded the A4 pages with Rachel’s homework and put them on her desk. She picked them up and smiled at me and said, ‘Thanks,’ like she knew I was going to do them so I felt kind of confused and I didn’t say anything.

  I knew Stella was looking at me so I kept my eyes down. I felt like I had sold my soul and even though I thought everything would be better because then Rachel would like me, I knew it would actually be worse and the rest of the day I didn’t look at anyone.

  When I was walking home Rachel drove by in her mam’s fancy car and she rolled down the window and said, ‘Bye Marie. See you tomorrow,’ in the suckiest voice imaginable.