Excerpt of The World Beneath by Cate Kennedy
(Page 2 of 4)
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She hoped the romance was a deliberate, manufactured
illusion, hoped he was, in reality, writing from his dead-end job or
cramped bedsit. She should have paid attention to the postmarks
over the years, except that sometimes Sophie made a point of
casually collecting the mail around her birthday and Christmas
before she did, so she didn’t have a chance.
She’d laid the whole thing on the line for Sophie, early on.
‘He walked out on us when you were just a tiny baby. So don’t
go expecting anything from him. Put him out of your life, like I
have.’
And for years Sophie had given her that inscrutable child’s
look and shrugged, even though Sandy was sure she kept all those
cards, with their pathetically non-committal messages, hidden
away somewhere. Hanging onto something. Some possibility. And
then last year, when Sophie had been turning a scary fourteen,
she’d stunned her by saying, ‘If you’ve put him out of your life,
why are you always talking about him?’
She had felt herself blustering, hot suddenly. ‘I don’t.’
‘Yes, you do.’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘You do. When all your friends are here. You’re all shouting to
get a word in about who’s got the worst ex.’
Just doing her obstinate best to get under her skin about
something that was patently untrue. She imagined all those
cards somewhere, wrapped up in a box under a journal, maybe.
Although Sophie had become so coolly cynical this last year it
was hard to imagine any shred of sentiment surviving; it would
be hanging on like a tiny gasping plant, clinging by its roots to
a crack in the barren rock face of withering teenage contempt.
Maybe she’d thrown away the lot. Maybe she’d incorporated
them into some weird art installation at school, lying slyly in wait
for Sandy to come across at the next parent–teacher night.
And she would have to smile brightly, her face stiff with
getting over innocently strolling into the IT lab last term and
having the teacher enthusiastically show her the website Sophie
ran from her school computer ... no, not website, one of those
blog things: BigPage, or MyFace, or whatever it was called.
A wildly popular site, apparently. A cluster of teachers had
stood around her, enthusing.
‘She’s brilliant, really,’ the headmaster had said excitedly,
clicking away with the mouse. ‘Such a thinker, and such a
subversive sense of humour, wouldn’t you say?’, and he’d brought
up Sophie’s blog. And smiling, still wondering what, exactly, he
meant by subversive, Sandy saw that it was called My Crap Life.
‘This has had thousands of hits,’ the headmaster was saying.
‘Even the staff read it each week. And the goth twist is what
makes the whole thing so exceptional.’
‘Emo goth,’ corrected the IT teacher, mystifyingly, leaning
proprietarily over the back of the ergonomic chair.
Sandy nodded, grimly trying to memorise the web address.
‘She’s certainly full of surprises,’ she said faintly. There was
Sophie’s face on the screen, indisputably hers, glowering out
from under a curtain of black fringe, so it must have been true.
Fourteen years old, and this other life going on, a secret parallel
universe served up here now in a fait accompli, something for
Sandy to accidentally stumble across when it was all too late.
Like that tattoo. Sandy remembered the shock of first
glimpsing it, the sensation of the rug being smartly whipped out
from under her. Not even a nice tattoo either, the sort that she
herself had contemplated — those cute butterflies in the small of
the back, say, or a Celtic band honouring your cultural heritage or
some small, significant endangered flower on the ankle.
Excerpted from The World Beneath
by Cate Kennedy. Copyright © 2011 by Cate Kennedy.
Excerpted by permission of Grove Press. All rights
reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted
without permission in writing from the publisher.
