Then Leonard began to sing.
First came a single note, deep and low, not dissimilar to the sound a bottle makes when you blow across its neck. Blue held on tight. Then another note, this time high. It was eerie. And pure. Like a drop of rain caught on a leaf. More notes followed – series of trills and moans and whispers that built into a haunting melody. Blue could feel the song as it travelled through her body. Although she didn’t feel like laughing, Blue felt immense happiness. Unlike anything she’d ever felt before.
After a time, Leonard’s song was done. In a fizz of bubbles, he brought Blue back to the surface. Leonard shook the reins from his snout.
Blue didn’t want it to end. She put her head against Leonard’s and left it there for the longest time. Then she kissed his knobbly snout to say thank you, and swam with his reins back to the boat. A flotilla of empty pistachio shells bobbed around it. Bessie, with her feet in the water, was snoozing again. Blue climbed up the ladder and crawled onto the boat. She felt as if she had run a marathon. Her arms ached. She took off the scuba tank and lay down next to Bessie, who was snoring ever so politely. Blue closed her eyes and quickly fell asleep.
CHAPTER 11
An Ultimatum
‘You what? Swam with a whale?’ said Blue’s mother, barely looking up from her paint chart.
‘I know what you’re thinking. I thought it was a bit crazy too at first, but it was the most incredible experience, Mum.’
‘I hope you kept your gloves on. It was probably crawling with sea lice. Now I’ve seriously got doubts about that clinic. I was hoping they’d just give you some medication. I mean, really, swimming with a whale? That’s ridiculous! The Boogaloos are clearly loco, dear, you do know that? This is your second week of treatment and not so much as a ha ha! How hard can a ha ha be? Ha ha … I should have known. I mean, as if music could change anything! And a singing whale? What rubbish! I’ve already sacked that hokey decorator who recommended them. You should have seen the white she was considering for the hall – Moon Mist! I mean, it’s so last year!’
Blue’s mother shook her head and rolled her eyes. She patted the coiffed curls around her ears in case her disgust had wobbled them out of place. ‘You’re not going back to those loons. You can just stay a miserable sad sack. Your father and I will manage. We’ve managed so far. No one gets to choose family, after all. It’s always a risk. We’ll just have to spend a bit more time overseas to compensate for our distress.’
‘Oh please, Mum, no! They’re not crazy at all!’ A panic spread across Blue’s face as if she’d just been hit with a cream pie out of nowhere. She scrambled for ideas that might change her mother’s mind. ‘Why don’t you come and spend a day with me at the clinic? It’s wonderful. You’ll love the music!’
‘My acoustics counsellor, Bernice, advised I don’t listen to anything other than white noise, as you’re very well aware, Blue. Anyway, my sense of humour is all in order. I’m hilarious. And my laugh is gorgeous. You could bottle it and sell it to those poor refugees who are having such a tough time lately, locked up on those tiny islands in the middle of nowhere so no one can hear them cry. That’d cheer them up. Not a bad idea, actually. I’ve always liked helping others. Anyway, stop trying to distract me. You’re not going back to the Ooglybooglies, and that’s that!’
‘They’re the Boogaloos.’
‘WhatEVER! Let’s face it – you’re a lost cause. Gawd, what on Earth have your father and I done to deserve this! Get me a glass of bubbles, will you, Melvin.’
Melvin rocked himself up from his chair in the hall. On the way up, he let out a small fluff, which is not unheard of for a man of that age. With all the drama going on, no one seemed to notice. Relieved, Melvin shuffled off to get Blue’s mother a glass of champagne.
‘Please, Mum, I beg you! Just give me one more day.’ Blue was nearly in tears. ‘I promise you, if I’m not cured by then, I’ll stop going. Please, Mum, I just need one more day. I can feel a huge breakthrough is just about to happen for me. I know it is.’
Melvin returned with a glass of bubbles for Blue’s mother. She slugged it back in one go. ‘Oh, all right, Blue. I’ve got lunch with the girls tomorrow, anyway. It’ll get you out of the house, at least. The girls and I love a laugh, as you know, and you’d just bring everyone down. YOU’VE GOT ONE MORE DAY, BLUE. THAT’S IT! But first, I want you to spend an hour practising in your high heels. No poles! Oh, I’m too much of a softie, aren’t I, Melvin? I’m just a big, squishy marshmallow on the inside.’
Melvin nodded and did the best he could to haul his droopy lips up into a semicircular smile. It was part of his job as the chauffeur to always agree with his employer. Unfortunately, an odd rectangular smile bearing his higgledy-piggledy teeth was the best he could manage. What absolute numpty-twaffle, thought Melvin, who didn’t even swear in the privacy of his own brain.
Blue breathed a huge sigh of relief. For a moment there, she thought her time with the Boogaloos was over. And right now that thought was unbearable. Blue headed upstairs to do her high-heel practice. She strapped on her pink diamond shoes and tried to walk using the wall to help her balance. Through her bedroom window she could see the Taylor boys.
‘FOO FOO FOO … FOO FOO FOO.’
Blue was very familiar
