Chapter Nine
I can’t get a word in. Cheryl is talking excitedly about all the amazing things we’re going to do in LA when we get there. She’s going to show me the most amazing restaurants, the places with the best views, she’ll take me with her to the recording studio… eventually I just shout, ‘Cheryl, stop!’
‘What’s the matter?’
‘I…I’m not going to LA with you.’
Cheryl just looks at me. ‘Course you are! Why wouldn’t you?’
‘Why would I?’
‘Well I reckon we could both do with a holiday.’ She frowns. She really doesn’t get it.
‘I can’t Cheryl.’
‘Why not? What’s stopping you?’
‘You’re probably too well off to notice but I’ve been sponging off you for ages now, I think this is going a bit too far.’
Cheryl’s face relaxes and the sighs with relief. ‘Is that it? Kimba, it’s not a big issue.’
I have to admit, I love it when she calls me Kimba. ‘It’s a big issue to me! To tell you the truth it makes me really bloody uncomfortable.’
Cheryl just smiles. ‘I thought it was something serious.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I dunno… I thought you were gonna get all… funny again, and bottle up again.’
‘Well I… listen, I can’t Cheryl, it’s going way too far, going halfway across the world with you.’
Cheryl stands right in front of me with her arms folded. ‘Kimba, are you me friend?’
‘Yeah, I… course I am… well, I like to think so.’
‘Exactly. I think so too. And friends do things like this together. So stop moaning. Will you get us the dog’s bowl out of the cupboard please?’ She starts bustling around the kitchen as if the conversations closed.
‘I’ll pay my way you know.’ I tell her firmly. ‘Somehow. I’ll paint people on the streets of LA every day for money or something.’
Cheryl just laughs. ‘You’re hilarious. Now shut up and do something useful.’
‘Like what?’
‘Go and listen to Sarah’s albums. Get acquainted with The Harding.’
‘Is she any good?’
‘She’s better than me.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘You will once you’ve heard her. Now go and listen, or I’ll throw Buster at you!’
**
‘I take it you’re a fan then?’ Cheryl laughs. It’s a few hours later, I’ve listened to all of Sarah Harding’s albums and I’m replaying the first one, dancing around the room to it. ‘Well duh!’ I say stopping and sitting down. ‘I don’t think she’s better than you though.’
‘Thanks, but don’t tell her that!’
‘I’m not stupid. You make her sound really scary!’
‘In some ways.’ Cheryl winks. ‘Nah, she’s great is Sarah, you’ll love her. Oh my God!’
‘What?!’
‘We need to get you some holiday clothes. Go and get us the laptop out of me room, will you? It’s time for an online shopping spree!’
‘Cheryl…’
‘Kimba, just go and get us the laptop.’
‘Cheryl I can’t--’
‘Stop arguing with us and go and get us the bloody computer!’ Cheryl shouts, grinning, and throws a pillow at me. I dive out of the way and run into her room.
I have the laptop tucked under my arm and I’m about to leave when I spot a pile of scraps of paper on Cheryl’s dresser.
My name is on one of them.
I can’t help myself; I pull it towards me. It’s definitely my name. I start reading, curious.
Kimberley Scared
She’s so scared,
she lashes out.
She’s scared I’ll see
What she’s all about.
She thinks I don’t know,
That I cannot see,
Can’t see what’s false,
And can’t see what is real.
She seems so lost,
Doesn’t want to be found,
I want to help her soar,
But can’t get her off the ground,
She hides her heart,
She will not reveal,
Won’t show me what’s false,
Won’t tell me what’s real.
