Margo's Diary (U.S. Edition) by Corinna Turner

Author:Corinna Turner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, scifi, teen, catholic, action adventure, youth, christian, ya, dystopian, teen 14 and up
Publisher: Corinna Turner

15th September (26)

Only four days later Bane got another letter from Mr. Marsden, saying that they were setting off on the train the following evening and would arrive around midday the day after—which was now the following day.

“Bother,” said Bane, taking the letter back from me and reading it again. “That was quick. She must really be sick.”

“I’m surprised Eliot isn’t coming with her,” I said.

“He must think she’ll make it back,” muttered Bane. “Unless he just isn’t prepared to jeopardize his career, no matter what.” Eliot Marsden had always been set on a career in the civil service. The EuroGov had made sure he got it, so that they could trot him out occasionally as an example of how a model citizen should behave.

“Still,” murmured Bane, “I was hoping they might not get here quite this quickly...”

My mum and dad were arranging to come, but both had things they couldn’t simply drop. They were going to arrive several days after the Marsdens, by the look of it, and who knew how long Bane’s parents were actually planning to stay.

Bane was distracted all day, to put it mildly, and said almost nothing about the forthcoming visit. At bedtime he put on his pajamas, then just sat on the edge of the bed, staring into space, his shoulders rigid. The fact that he would be seeing his parents in less than twenty-four hours must be really sinking in by now.

When I was ready as well I climbed onto the bed behind him and tried to rub some of the tension out of his shoulders, but his muscles were too stiff. I slipped my arms around him instead. “Come one, Bane. Talk to me. It’s like going to bed with an unexploded bomb.”

He turned to me with an apologetic grimace. “Oh Margo, I’m sorry. It’s just...well, I suppose I’m not talking because I’m not sure what I feel. Well, I feel so many things. I don’t know where to start.”

“Are you...happy that she wants to see you?”

“Well...provisionally, I suppose. I don’t know what she wants, yet.”

“What else do you feel?”

“Angry,” said Bane, with a bit of a sigh. “And hurt. I’ve been trying so much to let it all go. I thought I was doing really well. Now it feels like it’s all come right back. Boomerang rage.”

I thought about my struggle to forgive Father Mark—and my still ongoing struggle to completely forgive Reginald Hill. “Yeah. Rage is like that.”

“Also...hope,” said Bane, speaking more freely now he’d started. “I suppose I do feel hope, but...not once in my life has hope ever been fulfilled, not by them. So I’m afraid to hope. I’d rather expect nothing from them, then they can’t hurt me again.”

After a moment he added, “Not that I’ve the foggiest what to expect. Which brings me back to that.” He sighed.

“Well, I keep remembering what Father Mario said?” I told him. “About people seeing everything differently when they’re dying?”

Bane nodded slightly. “Yeah, I keep thinking about that as well. He knew what he was talking about.

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