The Definition of Fflur Read online

  “I’m warning you, though. I do feel a bit queasy,” I confess quietly.

  “I’ve got you, Fflur. You’ll be okay.”

  Chapter Eleven

  When you’re a small child, waiting for Christmas feels like forever. The days drag, December twenty-fifth seeming to get further away the closer you get to it. Then, the day comes and it’s over in a blink. Flashing by with the speed of light.

  Waiting for birthdays was the same, and holidays. All the fun stuff always took ages to come around.

  Now though, since that day at the start of summer that feels so long ago—the day she left, and how time is now measured—dates that used to be meaningful, appear out of thin air. No waiting, just whoosh, they’re already upon us.

  I’m fourteen today, and I don’t feel any different than I did yesterday. Not older or wiser.

  I spend the day with my dad. He takes Rhys and me bowling, and then we spend an hour in the bookstore where I browse the gardening section and buy new books about flowers with my birthday money.

  Rhys shakes his head at me. “Only you, Fflur,” he says with a bewildered smile.

  Tonight, we’re staying at Mum's house.

  They let me choose whatever takeout I want, and I pick Chinese. Being fourteen means that I should be able to get the hang of chopsticks by now. It also means I've started trying to be seen as a little less weird, and a lot more cool to try to fit in. I want to be less Fflur and more... Galen.

  Once everyone has stuffed their faces with sweet and sour chicken, chow mein, crispy duck, prawn crackers and noodles, Max leaves the room only to come back with his arms full of gifts. He places them in front of me and smiles at me just like Galen always does when he’s waiting to see my reaction to something.

  I get some vouchers for clothes and shoes, a gift certificate to get my nails done at the local salon, and my main present is a new smartphone because Mum seems to think I have a lot of friends to contact.

  All the gifts are great, perfect for a girl my age. Perfect for the girl I’m trying to become. They just aren’t very… Fflur.

  The final gift in the pile looks like it was wrapped by someone who had a fight with some glitter paper, and the glitter paper won.

  I lift it up, shake it quizzically, and turn to face Galen.

  He groans and rolls his eyes at the mess he made of the wrapping. "I didn't know what to get you. Sorry if it's a bit naff."

  I tear open the paper and find a navy velvet, jewellery box. I flip the lid open and inside is a silver charm bracelet holding three charms. All of them flowers.

  "I thought you could add to it. You know, when you find a new flower that you love."

  He's shy. Not like Galen at all.

  I nod in thanks, and Galen blushes awkwardly, so I clear my throat discreetly and whisper, "It's perfect."

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  Perfectly Fflur.

  Chapter Twelve

  It's the summer holiday before I turn fifteen.

  We are all sat around Mum's dining table, and I'm the only one not eating.

  Mum has become obsessed with some diet, fitness and health food guy online. Every meal consists of green stuff, green stuff and more green stuff.

  Today, it’s kale.

  I hate kale.

  Despise it.

  But Mum insists it's good for you and seems to add it to every other meal. She’s determined to, in her words, ‘Make us a healthier family.’

  The last time I point blank refused to eat it, it became part of every meal, not every other.

  I push the green devil leaves across my plate, and gather them into a mini mountain of iron-rich goodness. At least that's what Mum calls it.

  Mum and Max are deep in conversation about the benefits of something called ‘juicing’, and Rhys has already devoured all food so he could go out with his mates. When he left, I gave him the stink-eye, and all he did was laugh in my face and condescendingly pat my head.

  He knows how I feel about kale.

  Galen has also almost finished. Through my frequent stolen glances, I can see he doesn't hate kale as much as me, but I hardly think he loves it. Who the hell would?

  He catches me looking and stares at me. His eyes flick towards the mountain of green on my plate, and he shakes his head and laughs under his breath before mouthing the words, "Eat it. It’s good for you."

  I give him my usual dirty look, roll my eyes at him and pick up one small leaf before dropping the disgusting vegetable into my mouth and chewing.

  Galen snorts loud enough to draw attention, and I curse at him under my breath.

  “Wanker.”

  Which only serves to make him laugh more.

  He shakes his head, steals a quick look over at my mum and his dad to check if they're still in deep discussion about the carb content of vegetables, and quickly scoops up my plate. He swaps it with his own, and surreptitiously slides what now looks like my empty plate back in front of me.

  I stare at him mouth agape, but he ignores me and proceeds to stuff forkfuls of green into his mouth.

  My stomach dips, and not because of the thought of eating all that kale, but because of what Galen just did for me.

  "See, it’s not all that bad,” Mum says to me out of nowhere, and I stare at her in confusion until she nods at my empty plate. “I knew you’d like it eventually.”

  “Yeah,” Galen replies around his last mouthful of disgusting green leaves. “Fflur loves the stuff now. I’d give her an extra helping next time.”

  I glare at him and he chuckles.

  “Where did Rhys go?” Mum ask, staring at the empty place where my brother usually sits with an unrecognisable emotion on her face.

  "Rhys," Mum yells and pushes up from the table. "Get back down here. Now."

  “He’s gone out with his friends,” I reply. “He ate all his kale,” I offer in weak consolation when I see her face drop.

  “Oh. Oh, okay. I was hoping he’d be here when we told you.”

  “Told us what,” Galen asks.

  Mum smiles brightly at us both before turning to look Max and linking their hands.

  Max looks like he might explode with excitement.

  My stomach churns like I've just eaten all the kale from everyone's plates.

  They can't be. They wouldn't get mar—

  "Go pack your stuff, we’re going to spend the weekend hiking in the Brecon Beacons."

  Thank F—oxgloves.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It’s Christmas, and Rhys and I are spending it for the first time at Mum’s place.

  Previously, we’d see her over the holidays but always spent most of it with Dad. It made sense because he’s alone, and neither of us ever wants to have him lonely at Christmas. But this year, he’d booked himself on a cruise, shocking us all, including himself.

  “It’s time to live a little,” he told us both. “It’s time for me to live a little.”

  We couldn’t argue with that, but it was still weird to kiss him goodbye before he left for the boat.

  Because we’re at Mum’s, Rhys and I decide we should buy Galen a gift, and we save up to buy him tickets to a gig by his favourite band.

  His brow furrows when he opens the ticket, not quite a frown, but not the reaction I expected, and the look on his face stays with me the entire day. I thought he'd like it. It was my idea, not Rhys'. He only wanted to get him some aftershave that was half-price from Boots, and I had a job to persuade him to spend the extra money.

  I get all the presents that I asked for, including another new phone because I dropped the last one when Rhys jumped out of Mum's green wheelie bin and scared me. It hit the concrete path instead of their perfect emerald lawn and the screen cracked like a spider web.

  The gift I'm most excited about getting, though, is the new DVD of Mamma Mia. Mum and I went to the cinema to watch it on one of our rare girlie days out without Rhys, Galen or Max, and I've loved it ever since.

  I don
’t know if it’s the film that holds so much appeal for me or the feeling I get when I watch it.

  Like I’m whole again and not missing a piece of myself.

  "Can we watch this?" I ask late into the evening, while we all lay sprawled in the living room after stuffing our faces all day and ending up in a food-coma.

  Mum and Max share a smile and make up a lame excuse about wanting an early night. They disappear with a quick round of ‘Merry Christmases.’

  Rhys and Galen share a long look and I can practically see speech bubbles popping above their heads that are filled with more lame excuses.

  I think I need to wash my hair.

  All that turkey has done me in, I need my bed.

  Maybe next year when I’m sick with the flu and can’t say no.

  "I can watch it in my bedroom," I say sullenly, as I stand and head for the stairs.

  Rhys lunges off the floor and darts up the stairs before me. When I get to the top he hooks his arm around my neck and ruffles my hair. "C'mon, Fflur. Don’t sulk. I'll watch it with you."

  I shrug out of his hold. "It's okay. I don’t think I’m going to bother. I'm a bit tired after stuffing my face with all that food. I just want to sleep it off. Plus," I say with a wry grin. “Some idiot was bouncing on my bed at five in the morning wanting to open presents. It’s funny how you can’t crawl out of bed before midday at any other time of the year.”

  He grins at me and waggles his eyebrows. "If you can’t get excited at Christmas, when can you? Are you sure, you don’t want to watch it?"

  "Yeah, it's fine. Promise.”

  “Okay, then,” he says before ruffling my hair once more. “Goodnight, Sis. Merry Christmas." He goes into his bedroom and shuts the door.

  When I reach my bedroom door, I stop dead.

  Placed outside, leaning awkwardly against the door frame is a bouquet of wildflowers.

  It's winter.

  These wildflowers haven't been picked from a local meadow or field, and they've been perfectly arranged and tied with an elaborate red and gold festive ribbon. These wildflowers were bought. These wildflowers were left for me by Galen.

  I bend down to pick up the small bouquet, and notice the dryness of their stems—they need water, and they're beginning to droop.

  Footsteps come down the hall behind me, and even without turning I know it's him.

  "Thanks," I say quietly, and he stops a few feet away.

  “For what?”

  I indicate to the flowers in my hand.

  "Nothing to do with me," he states, but he’s smiling.

  I play along. "Shame, because they're beautiful. I miss them in the winter." I look directly into his eyes and add,” But if wasn’t you, and it wasn’t Rhys, and I doubt it was Max or Mum because they’ve already given me loads of gifts, I guess it must be Santa?"

  "Probably or just a random person who wanted to make you smile at Christmas," Galen says as he leans forward and plucks the Mamma Mia DVD from my other hand.

  "If you’re not going to watch this, I will,” he says as he walks away, shooting me a cheeky grin over his shoulder.

  He wants me to follow.

  I open my bedroom door and call back, “Enjoy.” But before I can close it on him, he darts back to my doorway and says, “Don’t make me watch it on my own. Who will I have to sing along with?”

  I shrug, and lift my eyebrows.

  “Come on, funny Fflur,” he says as he grips my free hand, my flowers still held tightly in the other. “Take a chance on me.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Max picks up the shredded and torn rubbish bag and throws it into the green wheelie bin.

  He's beyond pissed off but is trying his hardest to rein it in.

  He doesn't know how to parent Rhys and me or even if he should. The line in the sand hasn’t been drawn between us, so he’s not sure if he should rip into me or if he should wait for Mum to do the dirty work. And truth be told, I’m not sure either.

  The half-empty bag hits the bottom of the bin with a thud, and I look around at all the rubbish that’s strewn over the front of the house and their perfect emerald lawn.

  It looks like an animal, maybe a fox, has got in the bag.

  By the look of the mess all over the lawn, so did his crew of foxy friends.

  I stand and watch as Max begins to collect all the garbage. I should offer to help but I hesitate, and the words refuse to pass my lips.

  I really did forget to put the rubbish bag in the bin. It wasn't something I did on purpose or out of spite.

  For some reason, Max isn't shy about giving me chores to do, but he doesn't give them to Rhys, who still barely talks to him. I'm not sure why that means I get given tasks and jobs to do while Rhys gets away with doing nothing. Its seem beyond unfair.

  "I wish you'd told me you hadn't put it in the bin," he mutters in my direction. "I could have done it, and then we wouldn't have this bloody mess."

  I shrink back a little from his tone. I want to be able to say something flippant to him, but I was the one in the wrong, so I remain silent.

  The more I get embarrassed by my inability to apologise, the angrier I get as I watch him clear up my mess.

  Galen walks around the side of the house and immediately bends down to help his father pick up the trash.

  "Need some help," he asks with a grin. "Looks like you've made quite a mess, Dad."

  Max's cold and steely eyes snap towards his son but before he can speak Galen picks up the last of the rubbish and drops it into the green bin.

  "Sorry," Galen says with sincerity in his tone. "My bad. Fflur asked me to put the bin bag out for her because it was heavy, and I forgot."

  Max looks at us both. He doesn't believe Galen's lie. And it is a lie because I never asked him any such thing, besides the fact that the bin bag wasn't heavy.

  Max must decide it's not worth calling us out on, and he claps Galen on the shoulder and says, "Next time remember, Gal. I hate spending my Sunday picking through mouldy bread and used tissues." He gives his son a devious grin and adds, "Since you made the mistake, you can help your mum get dinner ready."

  Galen groans loudly and tosses back his head to look at the cloudy sky. He hates cooking.

  Max, satisfied he's made his point, walks away with a smug smile on his face.

  "You didn't have to cover for me," I say quietly, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

  He slams the lid of the green bin shut. "You were about to argue with my dad. It was your mistake, not his. He didn't deserve your anger, Fflur."

  His gaze scans the lawn that's the same colour as his eyes for any remaining trash, and once satisfied, he moves to walk around me.

  "Sorry," I say to his back, feeling very put in my place, as I fall into step behind him.

  Galen's steps falter, and he spins around to face me. "Don't, Fflur."

  "Don’t what?"

  "Don’t shrink back from me, like I’m public enemy number one."

  "I—I’m not."

  "You think I don't know you, I do. You'll hide out in your bedroom and ignore me for days. All because I covered up for you with my dad."

  "No, I won't."

  He knows nothing.

  His eyes flick away from mine and towards the house. "You owe me,” he says, and I see the grin as it tips up the side of his lips. “You owe me big. So now you can be my slave."

  "Your what?"

  An evil glint appears in his emerald green eyes, and he looks like a Disney villain about to lock the princess in a cage.

  "Slave, Fflur. S-L-A-V-E. And I’ve got plenty of stuff for you to do."

  I shake my head and follow him into the house.

  "It’s a bit shitty to take advantage."

  "Me? Take advantage?"

  "Yes. I know you will. You’re loving this. I don’t think your grin could get any wider or your face might split across the middle"

  He turns and looks at me over his shoulder, his grin seemingly broader and more wicked
than before until my mother calls out from the kitchen, "Galen, your dad said you're going to help me. I've got a pile of potatoes that need peeling."

  I sit and eat our Sunday roast with Galen staring daggers at me the entire time.

  Mum had him in the kitchen for hours. Not only did they make our usual full roast dinner, they also cooked up batches of food to store in the freezer for the following week, and now he's staring at me with a look of payback on his face.

  Max clears his throat, gaining everyone’s attention. "Jenny and I have been talking." He smiles warmly at my mum. "And today we’ve booked our next family adventure for the spring."

  Rhys squirms uncomfortably in his chair, the last few adventures not to his liking.

  I break the uneasy silence that's descended over the table.

  "What is it?" I ask excitedly, having loved the last time went away. Two days walking through grassy fields and finding new flowers on the isolated mountainside.

  "Well," my mum answers, taking over from Max. "We decided to do something in the Brecon Beacons again."

  Max is unable to let my mum finish, and he looks exactly like Galen when he gets excited. With a broad smile, he yells out, "We're going Gorge Walking!"

  "Will we be camping too, Dad? Galen asks, an equally wide smile on his face.

  "Yes, well, no. We’ll be staying in the dorms at a country adventure centre."

  "In bunkbeds?" Rhys grumbles while pushing his fork around his empty plate. "Sounds... awesome."

  "It’ll be fun," Mum offers encouragingly. “You can share with Galen.”

  “Like I said, awesome.”

  "Or, Fflur," she adds quickly. "Or you can toss a coin for the single room?”

  Everyone is quiet for a while, and I take another mouthful of food. Galen twists his hands and stares at Rhys. I know exactly what he's thinking. Rhys doesn't want to share with him, and he knows it.

  "It sounds amazing," I say overcompensating for the awkwardness in the room. "I can't wait to go."

  Galen calls my name as I approach the stairs.