Love Is for Losers by Wibke Brueggemann (ebook pc reader .txt) 📗

When Kate got home from work, I was still in bed, staring at the wall. She opened the curtains, pulled the duvet off of me, and went: “Right, little missy. Fresh air and exercise are good for the body and the soul, so chop-chop, let’s go.”

She told me she’d choose my outfit and put it on me if I wasn’t ready in five minutes. Then she dragged me up the hill to Wimbledon Common without saying another word.

After twenty minutes of Kate marching along like a proper soldier and me sulking like a proper dick, Kate was finally like: “Phoebe. Talk to me.”

Me: If Mum’s dead, will I live with you?

Kate: She’s not dead. But yes, of course you would. That’s all been worked out years ago already, though, so your concerns are a bit late to the party.

Me: Worked out when?

Kate: When you were a baby and Amelia decided she couldn’t sit on her skinny arse for more than five minutes and had to go and try to heal the sick and lead the blind, etc., etc.

Me: How did you know you’d be best friends forever?

Kate: We didn’t know that. We still don’t. But I’d say the chances are good. Twenty years and counting.

Me: But how did you know you’d want to look after me?

Kate (cackling, pushing me towards a ditch): Phoebe. I personally pulled you from your mother’s vagina. I was the first person who held you. I couldn’t love you any more than if you were my own child. In fact, I probably love you a lot more because you’re not, because let me tell you, you pretty much ruined your mum’s vag.

Me: Oh my God, stop talking.

Kate (insanely Scottish): Oh, try not to think about it, pet. She’s all right now. They sewed her back up straightaway.

Me (gagging):…

Kate: Anyway, so of course you would live with me should anything ever happen to her, but right now she’s fine.

Me: Okay.

Kate: Good. And keep reminding yerself of that.

When we got back, Kate made us cheese toasties, and we sat with the cats and kittens on the floor. It was like a picnic in a petting zoo.

PS: I can’t believe I broke Mum’s vagina. I wonder if she’s reminded of it every time she looks at me. No wonder she’s away a lot.

PPS: I had three missed calls from Polly, and she left a voice mail, but it only said: “Are you alive or what? Call me.”

I didn’t.

I only texted her to say I’m back at school tomorrow.

PPPS: Kate’s been on the phone ever since we got back, calling friends who still work at Médecins Internationale to see if they know something more than what we’re being told, but apparently nobody knows anything. How’s that possible? People don’t just disappear.

PPPPS: I feel sick.

Thursday, April 26 #NearDeath

People only get called out of lessons when someone’s dead. Right?

So today when Miss Curtis called me out of French, my stomach literally dropped.

Everything was suddenly happening in slow motion, and I couldn’t hear properly, like when you’re underwater.

I sort of stumbled over my own feet and the straps of my backpack, and Miss Curtis actually took me by the arm and led me out of the classroom.

In the hallway, I dropped my bag, and all my books spilled out, and my knees just went, and all I could think was: Why am I shocked? I already knew Mum’s dead.

Miss Curtis was talking to me, and I could see her lips moving, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying until she took my face between both her hands and told me to breathe.

Miss Curtis: Phoebe.

Me:…

Miss Curtis: Phoebe. Can you hear me?

Me:…

Miss Curtis: Miss Anderson’s here to collect you.

Me: Oh my God.

Miss Curtis: It’s about your mum. They are setting up a phone call.

Me: She’s dead.

Miss Curtis: She’s fine. Go, talk to her. Miss Anderson is waiting in my office. Can you get up?

Me (picking myself and my things off the floor, stumbling): I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m going. Thanks.

And then I bolted all the way down the stairs, past the old building, across the courtyard, into the main building where Kate was waiting. She was grinning from ear to ear, but I was like: “Are they calling the shop?” and when Kate nodded, I kept running, and I was like: “Let’s go!!!!!”

She’d parked on a double yellow line, and Alex was in the car, and I was just like WTF?

Kate (fastening her seat belt): Yeah, Pat’s called in sick, and I know I could have left Alex in charge of the shop, but the last time we received too many letters congratulating us on his excellent customer service.

Alex (laughing in the back): That didn’t happen.

Me: Drive!

Then, because the world hates me, every light was red, old people were taking, like, an hour to shuffle across zebra crossings, and Wimbledon was gridlocked.

Me: When did they say they’d call?

Kate (checking her watch): Well, they called an hour ago to say that they were setting up a satellite call within the hour.

Me: Shit.

Kate (pulling the shop keys from her pocket and shoving them into my hand): Go.

I got out of the car and ran all the way from outside Sainsbury’s to the thrift shop.

Emma was waiting outside, and she was like: “Where is everyone? What’s going on?” but I couldn’t even speak because my lungs felt like they were about to explode.

I unlocked the door and bolted into the stockroom.

Emma: You okay?

Me (shaking my head, trying not to suffocate):…

Emma: Where’s Kate?

Me: (coughing up phlegm):…

Emma:…

Me: Mum was missing.

Emma: No.

Me: But she’s okay.

Emma: Thank God.

Me: They called me out of class. Have you ever been called out of class? So stressful. I thought she was dead.

Emma (smiling the most unusual smile): I’m glad she’s okay.

Me (staring at the phone): I hope they haven’t called.

Emma: I’ll put the kettle on.

Kate and Alex came in ten minutes later.

Kate: Hello, team. That was all a bit exciting, wasn’t it? Let’s open up again, then, shall we?

Alex: Has