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(shyly)
Of course I do. Everything
happens for a reason.
BOY
Then … perhaps you are my
reason?
BOY holds out his hand. ‘Teddy Bears’ Picnic’ music starts playing.
HOPE
This is all happening so BEEP fast …
BOY
And yet we’ve waited our whole lives. Now BEEP take my hand
and together we will – BEEP
BEEP BEEP-BEEP—
BEEEEEEPPPPP
Blinking, I stare at the hand reaching towards me.
‘You want toppings on this?’ the BOY continues, yawning through his nostrils. ‘We got chocolate sauce and chocolate sprinkles. Strawberry sauce and nuts, but that’s extra. Or butterscotch sauce or toffee sauce. Chocolate flakes are extra too, so are toffee pieces and –’
I sigh. He’s getting this script all wrong.
A few seconds ago, I was the romantic heroine poised to run away with my true soulmate – now I appear to be in a meeting with Willy Wonka’s accountant. As usual, I infinitely prefer my version.
‘Yes, please –’ I smile sweetly as the car behind me starts beeping its horn again. ‘Actually … never mind. Plain is just fine.’
‘That’s one pound thirty, then.’
Smiling harder so my dimples show, I hand the money across while gazing over the counter as intensely as possible, using all my advanced actressing skills to communicate complex, award-winning emotions.
The BOY stares back. ‘You’re ten pence short.’
‘Whoops!’ My eyelashes must have been fluttering too fast to see properly. ‘Here you go.’
Our fingertips touch lightly and I stare at them, waiting for a flash of light, a few sparkles, maybe a bit of casual levitation. Up close, his fingernails have a thin line of black under each one, there are bright red spots marking his cheeks and his apron has melted chocolate smeared on it. Although I’m actually in black jeans and a neon cropped jumper – and it looks like it’s about to start raining – so reality isn’t exactly doing either of us a favour.
But there’s definitely Potential. I just need to harness this new cinematic direction – fast.
‘So,’ I say as the car horn starts blaring again, ‘what’s your star si—’
‘HOPE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE LOOKING FOR A TOILET! DO YOU HAVE CONSTIPATION OR WHAT? GET IN THE CAR RIGHT NOW OR WE’RE GOING WITHOUT YOU!’
OK, the word toilet is absolutely not goingin my big opening scene; I am also editing out constipation immediately.
The BOY’s eyes slide over my shoulder, then widen as he spots the huge luxury car parked behind me.
‘Whoa,’ he says, abruptly waking up. ‘Is that—’
‘Yep.’ I take a step backwards. ‘Thank you so much for this ice cream, kind stranger. I shall treasure it forever and ever, until it melts or gets eaten.’
Quickly – while he’s still watching – I take my hair out of its tangled knot and give my black curls a quick, charming shake.
Then I glance adorably back over my shoulder.
HOPE
I’m afraid I must leave you
here, but this moment will be
engraved upon my heart for the
rest of time.
‘Bye, then!’ I call brightly, waving.
BOY
Goodbye, my dream girl. I will
never serve ice cream in the
same way again.
Ice Cream Boy stares at me for a few seconds with a deep furrow between his eyebrows. ‘Bye?’
I feel an abrupt whoosh of pleasure.
Next time I visit, he’s going to recognise me and ask my name and declare his eternal love for me and everything.
This One is almost definitelyThe One.
‘HOPE, YOU TOTAL MUPPET!’ my sister screams helpfully. ‘GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW!’
‘Coming!’ I call back.
Then – delighted with how the morning is going – I skip towards the car with the blue dress I’m not wearing fluttering behind me.
FADE OUT.
(#ue4678b41-85b9-5669-9b27-d1ef7b2df386)
Cancer: June 21–July 22
Your natural gift is in connecting with others, Cancer. Today Mercury and Venus are in your fourth house, which emphasises home, family, roots and parents.
Use your talents to bring those bonds even closer.
I’m Hope, your new leading lady.
Nearly sixteen years ago, my parents took one look at my beaming, newborn face and thought: There’s a girl who’ll embody rainbows, sunrises and the kiss at the end of a film. There’s a girl who’ll skip when everybody else is walking, and try to see the best in all things; who’ll never need to look for a silver lining because for her there’ll be no clouds.
And you know what? It totally worked.
Hope is somehow buried inside me, planted deep in the middle of who I am, like the pip of a cherry or the stone of an avocado. My eldest sister, on the other hand, shoved her name into the ground and then tried to get as far away from it, as fast as physically possible.
A bit like a … potato.
‘What is wrong with you?’ Mercy snaps as I climb carefully into the back of the limo, precious ice cream held reverently in front of me. (His ice cream! The Ice Cream Created By Him!) ‘Seriously. It’s not a rhetorical question, Poodle. I’m looking for a clinical diagnosis.’
Twisting, I stare longingly out of the window at the ice-cream van retreating slowly behind us, my fingertips pressed up against the glass. Saying goodbye is so hard sometimes.
HOPE
Until next time, my
chocolate-covered paramour.
Music swells.
END SCENE.
‘Don’t call me Poodle,’ I object, turning to face my sister and licking my ice cream. ‘You know I don’t like it.’
‘How about Poo, then?’ Mer sighs, propping her high-heeled boots on the seat next to me. ‘Smelly, inappropriate in public and constantly disrupting plans.’
‘I am not.’
‘Are.’
‘Am not.’
I stick my tongue out and she pretends not to notice. Mercy’s seventeen and permanently glamorous; today her hair is in a tight black bun, her lipstick’s red, her silk T-shirt is black, her hooded coat is black and her trousers are black leather.
The car seats are black leather too, so every time she moves there’s a loud squeaking sound. Maybe it’s the souls of the poor cows greeting each other in another format.
Without warning, I start giggling.
‘Do you have brain freeze?’ Mer snaps, picking at a perfect red nail. ‘Or are random hysterics yet another side effect of having literally nothing in your head?’
‘Mercy,’ Effie says, looking up from her fitness tracker. ‘Would you please leave Hope alone? Does it matter if we get there a little late?’
Because, if I grew with my name inside me, and Mercy grew without any of hers, then sixteen-year-old Faith holds hers up like a flower: always gentle, always adored, always sweet.
She’s also always beautiful.
And yes, I know that’s not a character trait, but if my middle sister was being cast in a movie that’s exactly what would be written on the script. Effie’s perfect face is always the first thing the rest of the world notices, yet somehow the last thing she does.
Which makes no sense because, when my visage eventually decides to blossom into hers some time over the next year, I’m totally going to make the most of it.
Broken hearts everywhere.
‘Yes,’ Mercy snaps, glaring at me pointedly. ‘Because I’ve got better things to do on a Sunday than watch my irritating kid sister making cow eyes yet again at the zitty ice-cream boy.’
‘First off,’ I explain patiently, ‘they were not cow eyes. They were mysterious eyes designed to woo and captivate. And second off his acne is clearly healingbecause he has a lot of scabs,so ha.’
I fold my arms in triumph.
‘We’re coming up to the gates,’ Effie says as Mercy smacks a palm against her forehead. ‘Please stop squabbling for, like, forty-five seconds? Be nice. And game faces at the r—’
The car screeches to a stop.
‘Yo, yo, yo,’ Max shouts, swinging a door open and poking his close-shaved head into the back of the car with a grin. ‘I see the three witches eschewed their broomsticks for the day. How’s tricks, my hubble bubblers?’
All I need to say about my nineteen-year-old brother is that he takes his name very literally.
‘For the love of—’
‘Language,Mermaid,’ Max laughs, shoving our sister over and clambering to the other side of the car, brown knees poking out of his ripped jeans. ‘Aren’t you happy to see me, sister-face? You are. I can tell you are. Look how incandescent my mere presence makes you.’
He leans forward and uses his fingers to stretch Mercy’s mouth into a scary, red-lipped, horror-film smile.
She immediately punches him. ‘How are you so annoying?’
‘Dunno.’ Max slumps in the seat and stretches his hands lazily over his head while he thinks about it. ‘I’d like to say it was a gift from the gods, but I won’t lie – I’ve been taking a few night classes. Really honing those skills.’
Then he yawns widely, showing all his back teeth, his tonsils and a single string of saliva, yet still managing to look handsome.
‘What does eschewed mean?’ I ask, leaning forward.
‘It’s a sneeze in the past tense, baby bear,’ my brother grins, fluffing my curls with his hand. ‘And I should warn you there are paps and journos everywhere. But don’t fret, sibs, I got here early and gave them a few choice nuggets. How we’re all being strong for each other, pulling together in our time of need and so on and so forth …’
He grins wickedly and Faith glances at Mercy.
That explains the mirrored sunglasses Max is wearing, even though it’s now fully raining. (My hair wasn’t really glistening in the sunshine earlier, either: that was done in my brain’s fully staffed Special-effects Department.)
‘God, Max,’ Mercy hisses, clearly livid she didn’t think of this first. ‘Attention-seeker much?’
