A Jarful of Moondreams: What Secrets Are Ready to Spill Out? Read online

  After commandeering her mum’s sewing machine for a week, with some expert guidance from her mum, she had customised three plain black Top Shop dresses that they’d snapped up for next to nothing in the sales. By using ribbons, feathers, sequins and one or two strategic slits, each one was slightly different. She’d even successfully removed one sleeve of her own dress, making the design look asymmetric. With outfits ready and everything booked, this was going to be their most eventful experience ever.

  Alex had been happy to go along with Eleanor’s idea for Saturday night. Eleanor often took the lead, she was ten minutes older than Isabella and a month older than Alex, so who were they to argue? The concert alone would be an exciting trip, but the riskiest part, something they’d never done before, was going afterwards to a party night at a club they’d heard loads about. The parents would have vetoed the idea but they’d never know.

  ‘Your turn,’ Isabella patted the dressing table stool and that Alex sat down in front of her and the pots of varnish. ‘The dresses are looking brilliant, Alex. Now for your nails, red or dark? You can have ‘Blood in the Snow’ or ‘Chocolate Dip’, we’ve both gone red.’ Alex hovered over both colours. Decisions, decisions. Picking up the red, she grinned at Isabella who took the bottle, nodded in approval and gave it a brisk shake,

  Alex watched as Isabella, tongue hanging out in concentration, carefully applied a base coat. She was lucky to have both EllaBellas, their twin name that had stuck since nursery, as her best friends; it more than made up for her having an absent sister who took no notice of her whatsoever.

  Half an hour later, their transformation was complete,

  ‘Hey Alex, you so look like our triplet now,’ Isabella said. They were all in their dresses and Alex was delighted with her look; the twins usually looked that bit older. People told her she was pretty but, with her fine features, she young for her age - whereas both twins had inherited their mother’s strong roman nose and striking high cheek bones. She was happy that the dress and makeup had worked magic and added a few years.

  ‘For one night only, we’re going to be over eighteens!’ she announced to the mirror.

  ‘Sshh don’t let Aunt Maggie hear!’ Eleanor was checking herself out in the mirror behind Alex and, as Isabella pushed them both aside for another glance at her own reflection, they were off into a mirror fight and fits of giggles.

  To escape a lecture on dress length, the girls put their coats on to say goodnight to their aunt who was nodding off as she listened to the radio. They then left them on the coat stand in the hall, added scarlet lipstick and were off. It was a lovely May evening; who wore a coat to a concert or club?

  It was just before midnight when Alex got to the front of the queue waiting outside The Hornet’s Nest. She had been to the concert and then for a quick drink but the evening wasn’t over yet.

  ‘Weren’t the band cool tonight?’ asked Eleanor

  ‘Yes, brilliant; even better than The Script,’ agreed Alex.

  ‘Don’t know about that, Alex, it’s a close call,’ Isabella said, her carefully painted eyebrows rising a fraction.

  ‘I just hope it’s not a close call getting in here., Alex replied. ‘Are we are looking old enough?’

  ‘Course we are, Bella. I managed to get into all of the pubs last time we were here and we’re way older now,’ Eleanor said confidently.

  ‘Yeah, way older by two months,’ Isabella, her twin reminded her.

  ‘Two months!’ nodded Eleanor and they both got the giggles.

  ‘Sshh. Let’s keep it down,’ Alex started to feel uncomfortable. ‘We’re getting nearer, the doorman might hear you.’

  Alex would have been happy enough with the concert and then pub but she always wanted to follow the EllaBellas. It had been on Eleanor’s wish list to make it into a late night session at the Nest ever since they had heard about the mix of music and partying that went on there. So seventeen was underage, that wasn’t going to stop them from giving it their best shot.

  The broad-shouldered doorman, muffled up in scarf and a long overcoat even though it was spring, glanced over and Alex noticed that Eleanor, her eyes dark and dilated, gave him a grin and a nod. Her super confident attitude was partly due to that lurid blue concoction that passed for a cocktail in the pub around the corner but mainly courtesy of the pill she had popped with it. It had been easy to find someone with the stuff they needed to party; a legal high to stay awake all night and to make them feel friends with the whole world. Alex did want to get in there and dance the rest of the night away, but she was nervous because she still felt that she looked the youngest and might hold them back.

  The bouncer didn’t return Eleanor’s grin; he checked his watch and went inside, probably checking to see if he could let more people in. There was quite a queue gathering behind them.

  ‘If we don’t get past the door, we’ll just have to walk back to Aunt Maggie’s.’ From Isabella’s tone, Alex guessed she was feeling edgy as she neared the front of the queue too. Aunt Maggie went to bed early so she had entrusted them with a key. The girls huddled together to avoid the night breeze that had started up and Alex cast an envious glance at the doorman’s coat. It didn’t look so daft now.

  ‘I’m aching to get inside to the heat’ moaned Eleanor, linking arms with the other two.

  ‘And the beat,’ added Isabella.

  Alex shivered from cold, nerves and excitement and couldn’t say a thing.

  The doorman drew himself up, pulled his shoulders back and gave them a long stare. Did he suspect they were underage? Alex felt like turning tail and calling it a night.

  They were almost in the entrance and light from the doorway shone on long, blonde hair and cat’s eyes shaded by heavy lashes. They all had pale skin, a slick of red over their lips and a slash of black skimpy dress. Endless legs, even longer in high-heeled shoes, completed the look. The Collingwood twins were identical and, even without the same coloured outfits and makeup, they were difficult to tell apart. Although slighter and shorter, Alex looked part of their trio.

  ‘In you go girls, enjoy your night.’ The doorman hadn’t asked for ID. They must look old enough. Alex could breathe.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘We will!’ called the three in unison ... they were in!

  Straight into the cloakroom where perfumes and hairspray were thrown together into a heady mix by the hot air driers. They jostled through the crowded room to get to the mirrors for a top up of gloss and to smooth their hair.

  ‘Are you OK now, Alex?’ Isabella asked.

  Alex realised that her nerves must have been on show to her friends. ‘Ecstatic,’ she smiled, as she searched for her comb. After combing her hair and flicking it back, she surveyed herself in the mirror. Now that they were in, they were going to have a fantastic time. ‘Come on girls let’s find this party,’ she urged.

  They opened the door to the blast of the music. The warmth of the fuggy dance floor blanketed her, the music boomed through to her soul and, for tonight, she was flying.

  ‘Night Ladies.’ The doorman looked at his watch; it was just after one, they hadn’t stayed long.

  ‘Goodnight,’ Alex and Isabella replied. Eleanor was silent between them. As they led her outside, her face had a grey pallor.

  ‘The cool air will make you feel better, Ella,’ Alex said.

  Eleanor didn’t reply. She seemed to be finding it hard to put one foot in front of the other.

  ‘Come on, we have a fair hike to get back so you should cool down and start to feel better on the way,’ Isabella sounded confident.

  Alex wished she felt the same way.

  They knew that Eleanor had taken an extra pill half an hour ago. Alex and Isabella hadn’t needed to top up, they were both still feeling the effects of the first one they’d popped in the pub, but Eleanor, convinced that hers hadn’t worked properly, took another. Loads of people had bought stuff around the back of the pub. It was supposed to be
safe to take a couple, but when Eleanor came back to the dance floor, she felt hot and breathless and thought she might faint.

  ‘Let’s keep going. We haven’t enough for a taxi so we’ll have to walk,’ Alex said to Eleanor, to urge her on.

  They turned the corner and Eleanor stopped abruptly. ‘Hold on, hold on,’ she slurred, ‘lemme’ … she kicked of one shoe then the other … ‘carry these. Tha’s better.’ Eleanor bent to pick up her shoes but fell over. She stayed on her knees and started retching. She tried to get up, but crumpled in a heap on the pavement. Out cold.

  ‘Ella!’ Alex shouted while trying to pick her up.

  Isabella had picked up the shoes and was frozen in horror, clutching the discarded shoes to her chest.

  Eleanor’s skin felt clammy and, from the street light, Alex could see it had a green tinge. They needed help.

  ‘Stay with her, Bella,’ Alex called as she ran back to the corner. Thank God the doorman was still outside the club. He must have heard her running, as he turned his head and looked her way. ‘Help us,’ she yelled, ‘you have to help. It’s my friend … come and see her!’

  He moved surprisingly swiftly and Alex was relieved to see him at Eleanor’s side. Taking command of the situation, he handed his phone to Alex and told her to phone 999 and give her name, stay calm and speak clearly. As she dialled, Alex watched him turn Eleanor onto her side into the recovery position, check her airway was clear and feel for her pulse. She knew about that from first aid training but hadn’t thought to do it. Please God, don’t let her die!

  After Alex gave her name, his hand stretched out for the phone and she handed the call over to him. She heard him describing Eleanor’s condition. She had a pulse. Thank God. He gave details of where they were. Placing his scarf under Eleanor’s head and his coat over her limp body, the doorman knelt beside her continually checking her breathing and her pulse. Feeling absolutely useless, Alex put her arms around Isabella, who had started to shiver and sob uncontrollably.

  They heard the wailing siren first of all and then the flickering blue light of the ambulance came around the corner. By the time it pulled up and the crew got out, their doorman had taken his coat and had disappeared around the corner. The paramedics went to work immediately and, in seconds, they were all in the ambulance on their way to the Royal. Alex picked up the doorman’s scarf from the pavement and she clutched onto it for dear life. Please God, thank you for helping us so far. Don’t let Ella die.

  Staff were waiting at the hospital and Eleanor was rushed through the double doors of the emergency area. Isabella gave her sister’s details to someone in a white coat; what she had eaten and drank and she handed over the extra two pills to show what she’d taken. After giving her address and contact details, they were turfed out to the busy A and E waiting room.

  They decided to take turns to go to the washroom in case they missed news of Eleanor. Alex was glad when she could peel away the false eyelashes and wash the heavy makeup off her face. She couldn’t help sobbing, her tears mixing with the warm soapy water and whirling away. What if Eleanor should die because of a night of fun? … more tears coursed down her cheeks. Her face was pink and blotchy from hospital soap and paper towels but she didn’t care, she felt clean.

  She tied her hair back, wrapped the doorman’s scarf around her neck to provide more cover over her skimpy dress and went to sit and wait.

  Someone, with a kindly face in a uniform, came over with a tray. ‘There you go girls; you’ll feel better after a hot drink,’ she said as she handed them tea and biscuits. ‘We called home and Eleanor’s brother picked up. He is coming straight here to collect you all.’

  Bella grabbed Alex’s hand and her wild look mirrored Alex’s feelings. Holy shit, Dan! He would be so not amused by this. Holding onto Bella’s hand, Alex sat silently keeping watch on the doors into the treatment area and the hands of the clock and prayed that Ella would be OK.

  3

  Cleo woke with a start and it took her a moment to realise that she was in her old bed in High Rigg. She’d been woken by a noise, something familiar but she could not place it. She raised herself up onto one elbow and listened intently, straining to hear. Was the noise from Mum’s room? She got up and slipped along the hallway to peer through her mum’s door. Slow, steady breathing reassured her that all was OK in there.

  As she retraced her steps to the doorway of her own room, she heard it again; heavy rain battering on her window pane. Only it wasn’t raining. This time she knew immediately what it was, someone was around the back of the cottage and throwing gravel at her window. The only person who used to wake her like that was Dan.

  She strode over to the window feeling more curious than scared; this was Dunleith, quiet, sleepy. Who would know she was here in her old room? Peeling back the curtains and peering into the back garden, she saw Dan’s face looking up at her.

  A spike of adrenalin jolted her heart so fiercely that she gasped for breath. She closed her eyes and opened them; was she dreaming? No. Standing in the garden and gesturing for her to come downstairs was Dan Collingwood. She was certain it was him, even by moonlight.

  The years rolled away and she was in her teens again. She let the curtain fall. He lived in Australia, what the hell was he doing here?

  Was it shock or nerves giving her shivers as she hurried downstairs? She realised she was wearing old pyjamas covered in faded teddies, a relic from years back that she had found in her drawer. Add unbrushed hair and a bare face and she was the most unready she had ever been to meet up after all these years. Bloody hell, Dan!

  Cleo opened the back door and peered around it.

  ‘Hi, Cleo, it’s a good thing you’re here this weekend... Can I come in?’

  She opened the door a little further; the kitchen was still in darkness. Dan strode past her,

  ‘It’s an emergency or I wouldn’t have woken you,’ he said in a hushed tone.

  Cleo turned on the light and faced him. She hadn’t said a word yet; she couldn’t find her voice. He stepped forward and gave her a hug.

  ‘My God, Cleo, you’re looking bloody dreadful.’ He rubbed a thumb tenderly under one of her eyes, the intimate gesture taking away the meaning of the words.

  The one night she hadn’t removed her mascara; she must look a real mess. Dan tightened his embrace, pulling Cleo on tiptoes towards him. Heat seared through her and she was aware of just how thin her ancient nightwear was. Silently praying, please don’t let them be see-through in this bright light, she pulled back, and tried to gather her thoughts.

  ‘Thanks a lot, Dan. If I’d known that I was having a visitor I’d have made more of an effort.’ Sounding annoyed might mask her discomfort and stop the strong urge to wrap her arms around him and never let go. ‘Now what’s this about an emergency?’

  ‘It’s the girls. They’re in bother in Edinburgh. Don’t panic, Alex is OK. It’s Eleanor who’s needed treatment. She’s recovering and almost out of the woods. They are all at the Royal infirmary and I’m going to collect them.’

  ‘What happened? Was it at the concert?’

  ‘No, they went clubbing…’

  ‘Clubbing? They weren’t meant…’

  ‘Look Cleo, we can talk in the car; we really need to get going. Grab some clothes and I’ll tell you on the way.’

  As Cleo got changed, swapping washed out pjs for hair-covered, cat-clicked trousers and a sweater, the whole situation felt unreal; it was as though time had dropped away. Being held by Dan had felt like coming home. After checking that her mum was sleeping soundly, she went downstairs with a pen and paper.

  ‘I need to leave a note in case Mum wakes up. What shall I say?’

  ‘Just say that you’ve decided to run off with me, at last,’ he smiled.

  Cleo felt the beginning of a blush as she went to the table to write ‘Be back soon, love Cleo x’

  Dan’s hands were on her shoulders as he gently turned her round, looking serious.

  ‘I did
n’t want to phone the house this late at night. I knew you were here and thought it would be best to tell you about this rather than your mum. We can decide how much the grownups need to know once we’ve got the girls home.’

  How easy it was to fall into old ways, they’d always called their parents the grownups.

  His hands, still touching lightly on her shoulders, were making the fine hairs of her skin stand on end, his presence was overpowering. Gently, Dan folded her into his arms. Had his lips brushed the top of her head? She couldn’t be sure but the trembling she felt was ridiculous. She pulled back; it was unnerving to feel what his nearness was doing to her, even in a crisis.

  Dan was driving his father’s car, he told her that he’d been staying with them for a week and that he was keeping an eye on the twins while his parents were on a wedding anniversary getaway to St. Andrew’s.

  As he slid the car into gear, he gently brushed Cleo’s knee and she twitched at the touch.

  ‘Sorry Cleo,’ he apologised.

  ‘It’s OK, I’m just ticklish.’ That sounded stupid and hot colour rose in her cheeks again.

  ‘I remember.’

  Oh damn it, she was blushing even more.

  ‘I don’t know about you,’ he said, ‘but I feel like we are back to where we were all those years ago, well… almost.’

  Cleo nodded but didn’t answer. She couldn’t speak.

  Their journey through to Edinburgh was swift because the roads were clear in the early hours.

  Cleo started to feel more at ease as Dan outlined what had happened to the girls and they discussed how they would handle the situation. Both agreed that tonight was not the time for lectures. After all, they had seen enough in teaching and medicine to accept that drug experimentation was, unfortunately, part of growing up. They agreed to talk to them later about ‘using’ and going to clubs when underage.

  ‘Even though we blagged our way into a few clubs?’ Cleo queried.

  ‘That was then and, besides, we were students living away from home; we didn’t need to fool the grownups about our whereabouts.’