Birdy

by Jess Vallance

  ‘Alberta,’ she said. ‘Have you got that list of answers we were jotting down, for the interview? I want to check I got everything.’

  ‘Sure.’ Bert nodded and heaved her bag onto the desk. She reached inside and pulled out her notebook, but as she did so a little wad of papers slipped out and scattered all over the floor. I looked down and straight away noticed that they were photos.

  ‘Oops-a-daisy!’ Pippa said, reaching down to start collecting them up, but as she turned one over she let out a little gasp.

  A couple of other people looked down at the pile then too, and Matt Pereira laughed loudly.

  ‘No way!’ He reached down and picked one up. ‘Nice tits, Alberta!’

  Bert spun round and tried to snatch the photo from him but he held it above his head.

  ‘Can I keep this?’ He laughed and passed it behind him to Gary.

  With that one roaming free around the classroom, we turned our attention to the rest of the pile. There were about four or five others, still scattered across the floor. I reached down and picked one up. The photo was of Bert. She’d obviously taken it herself in the mirror because you could see her holding her phone down near her hip. She was completely naked apart from a pair of little pink lacy pants and even they were almost see-through. I guessed that’s what you’d call ‘not leaving much to the imagination’. I stared at it for a moment then quickly placed it face down on the desk. I bent down to try to gather up the photos that were still on the floor but some of the boys had been quicker. There were now two or three pictures doing a tour of the classroom.

  Bert just sat at her desk looking straight ahead. She didn’t even try to grab the pictures back. She looked frozen. Then her face crumpled and she made a dash for the door.

  I looked around at the classroom – Matt and Gary laughing loudly, Ella and Megan trying to hide their giggling behind their hands. For a moment I wondered if I should stay back to try to round up the loose photos but I didn’t want Bert to think I’d just abandoned her when she was crying.

  Pippa and I moved at the same time, both making towards the door to go after Bert. But I reached forward and pulled Pippa roughly back by the top of her arm. She turned and looked at me, surprised.

  I glared at her. ‘No,’ I said in a voice that told her I wasn’t going to be argued with. ‘I’ll go.’

  I didn’t hang around for a reply. I dashed out of the room, leaving Pippa and the others leaning out of the doorway, watching me go. As I jogged down the corridor, I heard Pippa bossily ordering everyone to hand back all the photos at once.

  I eventually caught up with Bert in the toilets. She’d locked herself in a cubicle but I could hear her sobs.

  ‘Bert,’ I called gently, rattling the door. ‘Come on, Bert, let me in.’

  I heard the sound of the lock being opened and she stood in front of me, her eyes pink and her cheeks blotchy.

  I pulled her into an awkward hug. She was too tall and I was too short for us to ever have a proper, fitting-together hug when we were standing up. I felt her tears soaking into my shoulder. She seemed to calm down a little and the wailing became hiccups and regular sniffs.

  ‘Come on,’ I said, leading her over to the sinks. I handed her a paper towel and she blew her nose loudly.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said in a small voice. ‘It was just … such a shock.’

  ‘What were you … I mean, why did you bring them to school, Bert? Those photos? Bit risky, don’t you think?’

  She spun round to face me. ‘I didn’t!’ she said. ‘Of course I didn’t! Why would I?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said, peering at her. ‘I don’t know, but then I guess … I’m not sure why you’d take them in the first place.’

  Bert breathed out heavily. ‘For Richard,’ she said in a tiny voice. She leant against the sink, her head down. ‘For him.’ She was quiet for a moment then she looked up at me. ‘He asked me to. Said he wanted something to keep with him because we couldn’t be together as much as we’d like. I thought it was a good idea. I liked the idea of him thinking about me all the time … I thought it was … romantic, really. And then when he broke it off with me, I took more to send to him. Trying to win him back, I suppose …’

  I frowned. ‘Isn’t that a bit …’ I wasn’t sure what word I was thinking of here. Slutty, maybe? Desperate? I decided the sentence was better left unfinished.

  ‘I know,’ Bert said quietly. ‘I know. I don’t know what I was thinking. And it’s not as if it even worked. If anything it made everything worse. He threw them back in my face. Said he was insulted that I thought he was the kind of man who could be tempted into a relationship with a child by a few naughty pictures.’

  Although, I thought to myself, he could hardly deny he was the type of man to be tempted into a relationship with a child at all and that was every bit as bad. I decided it probably wasn’t the time to point this out.

  We leant back on the sinks, our bums perched on the edge. Bert looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

  ‘Someone put them in my bag, Birdy. Someone did this on purpose. Just like someone wrote that email on purpose. And printed it off on purpose. And passed it round the school on purpose. Do you think I should report it? I told them not to take it any further with the email because I didn’t want any more fuss but now there’s this too … Pippa’s mum thinks I should tell someone. She said she’d do it herself in fact, if I wanted her to. She’s on the PTA so they’d take her seriously.’

  ‘Pippa’s mum?’ I asked, frowning. ‘Vanessa? What’s she got to do with it?’

  I’d met Vanessa Brookman a few times. She was the adult version of her daughter – all busy-bodying and officious, always a key figure at any school fete, charity walk or sports match. It was no surprise that she’d offer to take charge in a situation like this, but I was surprised that she knew about it at all. When had Bert been talking to her? I raised this question now, taking care not to look as if I was getting distracted from the main issue here – the main issue being Bert’s welfare.

  ‘Oh, I’ve seen her quite a lot these past few months,’ Bert said vaguely. ‘You know, with the play and everything, I’ve had dinner at their place a few times. They’re nice, the Brookmans. It turns out that our parents have a friend in common so they’re talking about us all going to the Lake District in the summer …’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, frowning slightly. ‘Right.’

  We didn’t say anything for a little while. The only sound was the dripping of a leaky tap and Bert’s regular sniffing. I kept thinking about Bert and Pippa having dinner together, Bert chatting to Pippa’s family around the dinner table. And that’s when it came to me. It hit me like a slap but as soon as it had, everything was all so clear. The explanation for all this was obvious. So obvious, in fact, that I couldn’t believe it’d only just come to me.

  I’d been stupid, focusing all my attention on Jac. Silly, simple Jac. He wasn’t a threat, not really. It was Pippa. Bossy, sneaky, manipulative Pippa. She’d stop at nothing to get what she wanted. She’d pride herself on it, in fact. It was classic keep- your-friends-close-but-your-enemies-closer stuff. All that sidling up to Bert, all that fawning and sucking up and dinners and holidays in the Lake District. That could all be written off. Bert would see that that didn’t count for anything if, all along, all she’d been trying to do was get Bert out of the way – to break her emotionally, to humiliate her. It was all so obvious. It’d be hard for Bert to accept at first, but she’d have to. There was no way she could deny it.

  I looked at her now as she wiped her nose with a paper towel, her cheeks damp and flushed.

  I was going to have to break the news to her gently.

  32

  ‘What?’ Bert said, looking at me. ‘What are you thinking?’

  I realised I hadn’t said anything for a while – I’d been too busy thinking, the pieces slotting into place.

  ‘Oh, nothing …’ I said. ‘It’s nothing.’

  I was deliberately
making it sound like not nothing. I didn’t want to go blurting out accusations, and for Bert to think I was going off on some deranged ramble. It hadn’t been that long since I’d blamed Jac for all this, and you know what they say about crying wolf. I needed Bert to drag it out of me.

  ‘Tell me,’ she said. ‘What is it?’

  I sighed, and pushed myself off the sink. I paced over to the opposite wall of the toilets and leant back against it, my hands behind my back. ‘OK,’ I said with another sigh. ‘But you’re going to have to hear me out. Right to the end.’

  Bert frowned. ‘OK …’

  ‘Think about Pippa,’ I said.

  ‘Pippa? What do you mean?’

  ‘It makes sense. Think about it.’

  Bert pulled a face. ‘What, you think …? No. That’s absurd.’

  ‘It’s not, Bert,’ I said gently. ‘Think about it. I mean, think about where all this started – with that graffiti on your locker. And when was that? A few days, maybe a week, after the whole Meadowrise thing. When you’d had the cheek to strop off in the middle of one of her big charity projects.’

  ‘But that –’ Bert began.

  I cut her off. ‘Just hear me out,’ I said firmly.

  She was quiet again.

  ‘Then what happens next? You get that note. And again, look at the timing. Right after you got offered the part of Dorothea. The part Pippa wanted.’

  Bert looked down. ‘But I thought … I thought she took that rather well.’

  ‘Yes, but you don’t know what resentment was bubbling under the surface. That’s the thing with people like Pippa, Bert. They don’t explode. They don’t wear their hearts on their sleeves. They brood. They play the long game.’

  Bert’s brow was furrowed but she didn’t say anything.

  I went on. ‘So then everything goes quiet for a while – you and Pippa buddy up during rehearsals, she wins you over. But then, it’s opening night. It’s your big moment, time to go on stage after all your preparation, but just before you make your entrance, that email goes around and makes quite sure that everyone’s more interested in your crush on Mr Allenby than your performance on stage.’

  Bert sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. I could see she knew I was making sense. She had to admit it was a strong case.

  ‘But then today … the photos … why?’

  I thought for a moment. ‘I don’t know,’ I admitted. ‘I don’t know for sure. But I think there’s a good chance she’s just trying to shake you up. Make sure you’re a nervous wreck before tonight’s performance, not to mention the TV interview. And remember, she was right there, wasn’t she? It was her who appeared from nowhere and asked you for your notes, her who made you spill the whole pile of them right in front of everyone.’

  Bert held a paper towel in her hand. She twisted it round and round, shredding it to pieces. ‘Oh God,’ she groaned, looking upwards. ‘This is all my fault. I’ve been such an idiot.’

  I went back over to Bert’s side of the toilets. I put my arm around her and gave her a quick squeeze. ‘Of course it’s not your fault, silly. It’s her. All her.’

  Bert shook her head. ‘No, I mean, I … I told her. About Richard.’

  ‘Richard?’ I said, turning to look Bert in the face. ‘What did you tell her? And when?’

  ‘Everything,’ Bert wailed. ‘I told her the whole lot. I can’t remember when exactly, one evening at her house. After rehearsals.’

  ‘So she knew before that email went round?’

  Bert nodded forlornly.

  I sighed. ‘OK,’ I said. ‘OK. Well I guess you don’t need me to tell you that you shouldn’t have trusted her but at least … well at least one thing’s clear. We’ve definitely got our culprit.’

  ‘I knew it,’ Bert said, shaking her head. ‘I knew I hadn’t been so drunk that I’d told people at the party. I would’ve remembered something like that.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me that you’d already told Pippa about Richard?’ I asked. ‘The day the email went round? It would’ve been obvious to me then that it was her. We could’ve ended this there and then.’

  Bert just shrugged and stuck her chin out. ‘Don’t know,’ she said sulkily. ‘I just didn’t ever think it would’ve been her. I thought she was … decent.’ Bert looked away into the middle distance for a second but then she shook her head suddenly, like she was trying to snap herself out of her gloom. ‘OK, so. Now what? We should speak to Mr Hurst about our concerns. Or Mr Jeffrey? I really don’t want to get my parents involved though. They’d go mad if they knew I’d taken those photos. Do you think they’ll keep it, you know, just between us?’

  I shook my head. ‘There’s no point getting any of that lot involved. Teachers, I mean. Pippa’s too … too clever. She knows how to play them. She’ll wheedle her way out of it.’

  ‘What, then?’ Bert said, looking at me. ‘What shall I do? Shall I confront her directly?’

  ‘No,’ I said firmly. ‘You do nothing. Nothing at all. I want you to act like we don’t know anything. Go back up there, act like you’re feeling much better and ready to put the whole thing behind you. Be exactly the same with Pippa as before – be friendly as usual, make your normal plans. Leave her to me. I’ll sort this out.’

  I was rather impressed with myself at this point, how capable and in control I sounded. There was no way Bert could’ve known I had no idea what I was going to do, not really. I was sure I could work something out though.

  Bert looked like she was going to argue or at least ask questions, but just then a couple of girls from our year came into the toilets. One of them had a packet of cigarettes and I stared at them hoping they’d see they were interrupting and leave but they obviously weren’t the type to be easily put off. One of them just gave me a little sneer and they headed into a cubicle together. I decided it was time to get going.

  ‘Come on,’ I said to Bert. ‘Let’s get back. When we get there, Mrs Hart and everyone else are going to want to know if you’re OK, going to want to talk about it and all that, so just play it cool, OK? Shake them off. We need to do this my way.’

  ‘Do what your way?’ Bert said.

  ‘You’ll see,’ I said confidently.

  When we got back to geography, Pippa made a big show of giving the photos back to Bert.

  ‘Here you go,’ she said, looking at her earnestly. ‘And don’t worry, I got the lot.’ She gave Bert a sympathetic smile as she handed them over.

  Bert took them off her slightly hesitantly. I was worried she was going to crumble for a minute so I shot her a look that said, ‘Be normal,’ and she managed to break into a grateful smile and bury the naked pictures at the bottom of her bag.

  Luckily, Mrs Hart is the impatient sort who doesn’t have much time for children and their silly teenage dramas so was keen to press on with the lesson without further ado, which meant Bert’s acting wasn’t tested any more. I knew she wouldn’t be able to keep up the normal act with Pippa for long though.

  A plan was starting to form but I knew I needed to act quickly if it was going to work.

  33

  The operation began that evening. I insisted that we both went to Bert’s house after school. That was important – I needed to make sure that her parents saw me arrive.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she whined. ‘Why do we need to be at my house? Why are you being so mysterious?’

  I just shook my head. I didn’t want Bert to get wind of anything and start flapping about and making a fuss, but I did need to make sure she understood her role.

  ‘I need you to stay up here, in the den,’ I told her. ‘If your parents come up, say I’m in the loo or something. Whatever happens, today, later – I’ve been here the whole time, with you, OK? You’ll know everything by the end of the day, I promise. You’re just going to have to trust me for a bit.’

  ‘Promise me you’re not going to do anything that could get us into trouble.’

  ‘Promise. I’m just going to talk to Pipp
a. That’s all.’ And I meant it.

  ‘Then let me come. We’ll have it out with her together.’

  ‘No,’ I said firmly. ‘It’ll work better if it’s just me. She’s too … rehearsed with you.’

  With Bert in position and her role understood, the next phase of my plan was to make my way to the school hall without anyone seeing me. This wasn’t exactly easy in full daylight, but it wasn’t impossible either. I pulled my hood up to cover my face – that way even if anyone did notice a figure creeping around the back of the hall and in the stage door no one would be able to say with any certainty it was me. As it happened though, there wasn’t anyone around as I got nearer school. As Bert had told me earlier, everyone involved in the play was having a ‘well-deserved down day’ ahead of the grand finale tomorrow.

  I was a bit nervous as I pushed the stage door open. I’d carefully tracked conversations all morning and drilled Bert for all the details of people’s movements and as far as I could tell, if everyone stuck to their plans, Pippa should be up there, backstage on her own, clearing a space and setting up chairs ready for the big TV interview. I just hoped that nothing had changed, that Pippa hadn’t roped someone into helping her.

  Pippa spun round when she heard the door open. I stepped onto the stage, taking a moment to check out my surroundings. Yes. Everything was as I’d hoped. We were alone.

  ‘Oh, it’s you,’ Pippa said coolly, throwing me only a quick glance before she stood back and surveyed the furniture arrangement in front of her. ‘What do you want?’ Pippa might have turned on the charm for Bert but she was still as frosty as ever when we were on our own.