Page 29 of The New Girl

Robbie shouted ‘Again!’ at Safa.

‘No, she’s not singing to him again. It’s not fair,’ Ruby said.

‘AGAIN!’ Robbie roared, his face going red.

‘Not now, Robbie, Safa is having her dinner,’ Fiona said gently.

‘AGAIN!’ He began to shake.

‘Stop him, Mum, it’s not OK. I can’t invite Safa over any more if he’s going to do this every time. It’s embarrassing. It puts her on the spot all the time.’ Ruby was in tears.

Fiona looked at Safa with pleading eyes. They reminded Safa of the eyes of a refugee from Somalia who was begging the Red Cross for medicine for her sick child. Or the eyes of a young man she’d seen pleading with the Greek authorities not to send him back to Iran. Or the eyes of her father when he told her she had to go to Ireland with Mama without him. ‘I’ll follow you,’ he’d promised, but where was he now?

‘It’s OK, Ruby, I like singing,’ Safa lied. She didn’t like singing that much at all, but she wanted to help Fiona, and Ruby and Robbie. And maybe if she did good things for other people, then good things would happen to her and she’d hear from Baba soon.

So she opened her mouth and sang ...

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ruby

That evening, Ruby was going over her lines when she heard a bang on the window.

Safa jumped off the bed. ‘What’s that?’ she said.

Ruby went over to her bedroom window and pulled back the curtains. Orla was outside. She’d climbed up onto the garage roof and was leaning over, thumping on the window.

Ruby opened the window and her sister fell in, head first, and landed with a thump on the floor.

She was soaking from the rain and she just lay in a ball on the floor.

Safa went over to her and crouched down beside her. ‘Orla, Orla, are you all right?’

Orla began to sob.

Oh my God, Ruby thought, Orla hardly ever cried. She was so strong. She was by miles the strongest person in the family. Ruby was shocked. She didn’t know what to do.

Safa tried to pull Orla up. ‘You need to get out of those wet clothes, or you’ll get a cold.’

Orla staggered to her feet. Her mascara was streaked in two black lines down her cheeks. Her lipstick was smudged and her hair was all straggly and wet.

‘What happened?’ Ruby asked. ‘Why are you home so early?’ It was only nine o’clock and Orla was allowed out until eleven-thirty.

‘I had – oh God.’ Orla put her hand over her mouth and ran to the bin in the corner of the bedroom. She proceeded to vomit. Safa went over and held her hair back.

Ruby held her nose. Gross. What the hell was wrong with Orla?

Safa rubbed Orla’s back and waited for her to finish.

Orla turned around and wiped her mouth with her hand. She plonked down on her bed.

‘Are you OK?’ Ruby asked.

‘I’m drunk,’ Orla said, slurring her words.

‘What? Are you mad? Mum and Dad will go mental if they find out and you’ll be grounded for life.’

‘I don’t care,’ Orla said, as tears ran down her cheeks. ‘I never want to go out again anyway.’

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