Sugar Secrets…& Luck

by Mel Sparke

  “How dare Joe come out with something like that!” she fumed as she made her way through to the kitchen.

  Even though a red glaze of anger was fogging her vision, Cat couldn’t help but notice the note on the kitchen table. She picked it up, scanned it quickly and flung it back down.

  If she’s not at work then she’s out with Matt’s father. And now, she’s at the sodding gym. Brilliant.

  Cat pulled the belt of her fluffy white dressing gown unnecessarily tighter around her waist.

  Having second thoughts, she stretched out and grabbed the piece of paper on the table, scrunched it up into a tiny ball and threw it angrily into the bin.

  After spending the previous evening with her dad, Cat had hoped to catch her mother first thing this Saturday morning and pass on the message, just as he’d asked.

  What a joke! She’s avoiding him like the plague and all he wants to talk to her about is the one thing she’s probably interested in. Divorce.

  Cat stomped back through the hall, heading towards the bathroom. All she wanted to do was stand under the shower and let the water run over her. If only it could wash away the heaviness she felt hanging over her.

  But as she passed her mother’s bedroom door, she hesitated. Sylvia Osgood had said nothing about the incident with the bottle of perfume.

  She had to have seen it, thought Cat, tentatively pushing the door open.

  The room reeked of Wrappings, her mother’s favourite Clinique fragrance. As it would when a whole bottle of the stuff had smashed there only a few nights before. The matt lavender paint on the wall above the dressing table, Cat noticed, was stained with a faint smear where the liquid had fanned out.

  She got down on her hands and knees and inspected the carpet. Not a trace of the bottle or the shards of glass it had turned into. Dipping back out from under the dressing table, Cat spotted the dents in the carpet pile; the piece of furniture had obviously been moved when Cat’s mother had cleaned up.

  Why didn’t she say anything? thought Cat, sitting back on her heels. It’s not like her to miss an opportunity to shout at me.

  She stared round the immaculate room, all pale mauve and bleached wood, and sighed.

  Was it really only a week ago that I thought my luck was changing? she wondered, her mind whirling with all the confusion the last few days had brought. I was looking forward to the play, I was happy with… oh, God! Zac!

  She hurried to her feet, half ran to the phone and hammered in his number.

  But as it rang out, a gloom slipped over her.

  If he was worried about me, he would have phoned, she decided with a heavy heart. He can’t really care about me or he’d have tried to get in touch…

  She put the receiver down before anyone had a chance to answer.

  “Only Dad cares…” she whispered to herself, pushing Joe’s words of warning to the back of her mind and feeling herself warmed by the fact that she and her father had planned a day together again. And tomorrow he’d be the proud father, watching her rehearse her part in the college review.

  Which is more than Mum’s ever done, she thought bitterly, ignoring the fact that she’d never invited her mother to anything in the first place.

  Pulling a piece of yellow paper off the top of the Post-it pad by the phone, Cat scrawled a message in reply to her mother’s.

  Mum-Dad needs to talk urgently. He’ll call later for a time and a place. Don’t put it off again-it’s about getting DIVORCED.

  The final full stop Cat wrote practically went right through the paper.

  “Mmmm, nice…”

  Peter said it suggestively as if he was drooling over some poor woman.

  Matt seethed in the passenger seat. It was bad enough having Peter do it while he test-drove Matt’s precious Golf on a Saturday morning; if he did the same thing with Anna tomorrow at the theme park, Matt wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stop himself from pushing Peter face down in the nearest candyfloss machine.

  “Hey, I meant to ask you, that little friend of Sonja’s-Hannah-what’s she like?” asked Peter, shooting him a knowing glance.

  Matt knew what was expected of him: some laddish whey-hey-hey! stuff, no doubt. Only Matt wasn’t playing.

  “Hannah? Oh, you mean Anna. Yeah, she’s a really cool girl. There’s no fooling her,” he replied, staring straight at the road ahead.

  “Yeah? Well, I’ve got a feeling Sonny’s trying to fix up something with me and her,” he saw Peter shrugging out of the corner of his eye. “And, y’know, I think I’d be up for it. It’s like, I know she’s only a waitress, but then, hey, I’m only around for another week, if you know what I mean!”

  Matt ground his teeth together and pointed to the turning off to his house.

  Screeching to the left, the car sped up the lane and into the driveway of Matt’s house, scattering pebbles left, right and centre.

  “Yeah, this is quite a baby.”

  Matt turned and stared at Peter, who was patting the steering wheel, as if he’d just sniffed dog poo on his best Nikes after a walk in the park.

  “Mmm, this is quite a baby.” Who speaks like that?! Matt grimaced. Is this guy for real?

  “Purrs like a kitten, doesn’t she?”

  Peter smiled a fake, toothy smile in Matt’s direction. Matt nodded and managed to smile a fake, toothy smile back at him.

  How can Sonja be related to this flash plonker? he wondered as Peter rummaged about in his jacket pocket.

  “I’ll take her. Pick her up on Monday once I get insurance cover sorted out, yeah?”

  “Yeah, sure,” croaked Matt, getting out of the passenger door and staring at the fat cheque Peter had just written out to him.

  “Great. Catch you tomorrow at the station. Should be a laugh, right?”

  “Right…” muttered Matt, watching Peter strut off down the drive.

  He stared back down at the cheque in his hands.

  Quickly, he tore it into tiny pieces, letting the wind flutter them over the rose bushes.

  CHAPTER 18

  PHOTO FINISHS

  “Look, down there-isn’t that Kerry and Anna!” yelled Andy.

  Ollie, strapped into his seat with a big, padded harness, struggled to peer over the edge of the fourseater section of the Octophobia ride they were on. Below, he could just make out both waving girls in among the crowds of the theme park.

  “Oh, yeah… urrrggghhh!”

  Ollie’s words tumbled away as the four lads found themselves thrust upwards a few metres. Down below them, another tentacle of Octophobia had obviously been boarded by willing punters. One more and the ride would be full and ready to take off properly, propelling everyone through the air and up, over and sometimes into freezing jets of water.

  “Do you reckon it’s too late to get off this thing?” shouted Billy, only half-joking.

  “Way, way, way too late, Billy, mate!” said Ollie, his own heart thumping with anticipation. “You all right, Joe? You’re a bit quiet!”

  “Me? I’m fine. I-oooohhhhh…”

  Octophobia lurched up to fill its last vacant compartment.

  “You were saying, Joe?” laughed Billy.

  “I was just saying this is OK. It’s no big deal.”

  “What? No big deal?” gasped Andy, twisting his head round to look at Joe, who was strapped into the seat furthest away from him. “This ride’s one of the scariest going-it says so on the telly ads!”

  “Yeah-what do you consider scary, Joe, if this doesn’t do it for you?” asked Billy, looking a little ashen-faced.

  “Oh, don’t get him started,” Ollie told them. “He’s only getting himself in a right state at the moment over his dad’s wedding.”

  “You’re scared of your dad getting married?” frowned Andy, confused.

  “No,” yelped Joe defensively. “I’m terrified of having to get up and make a sodding speech in front of everyone!”

  “That’ll be easy enough!” said Ollie.

  “Oh, yeah? Do yo
u fancy swapping, 01? Do you want to be best man instead of me?” Joe jokingly suggested.

  “Nah-don’t fancy getting done up in a suit. But a speech-that’s a breeze!”

  “Uh-huh? So what do I say then?” asked Joe, aware of Andy and Billy sniggering at their conversation. Even Joe realised it was pretty surreal to be talking about wedding speeches sitting on a giant aquatic monster with your feet dangling above the pinhead people down below.

  “I dunno!” Ollie shrugged under his harness. “Put a few jokes in… say a bit of slushy stuff!”

  “Like what?” bellowed Joe.

  “Like, ladies and gentlemen, on this special day, I’d just like to say-AMRGHHHHHHHHHHH!!’”

  The other lads joined in Ollie’s roar as Octophobia lunged into action.

  Kerry and Anna gasped as Octophobia started moving, throwing its people-covered tentacles into the air.

  “How can they? You wouldn’t get me on that, not in a million years,” shuddered Anna above the sound of screaming.

  “No way,” Kerry agreed. “Anyway, let’s go and cheer on Matt. Or Peter…”

  Anna spotted the sly look Kerry gave her. So she was in on Sonja’s matchmaking plan too.

  “Anna! Over here-I need someone beautiful like you for luck!”

  The girls turned at the sound of Peter’s voice, Anna shuddering at his corny line.

  “Come on!” Kerry smiled encouragingly at her, tucking her arm into Anna’s and leading her over to the old-fashioned Test-Your-Strength machine, where Peter was getting ready to hammer the life out of a harmless target.

  Matt was standing by his side, looking far less happy than anyone would expect a birthday boy to look.

  “Feel that muscle,” said Peter, offering his arm out to Anna. “Go on-that’s all the rugby I’ve played over the years.”

  Reluctantly, Anna extended one finger and prodded his extended arm for a fleeting moment.

  “Not bad, eh?” Peter winked at her. “And here we go… umphhh!”

  His exertion was worth it. A black sphere shot up inside a long glass tube, sending the metal bell at the top clanging.

  “Pity Gladiators isn’t on any more-you could have applied!” trilled Kerry, clapping her hands together.

  Peter furrowed his blond brow.

  Either he’s never heard of the programme or he thinks it’s too naff to bother with, thought Anna, clocking his expression.

  “You’d have to give yourself a special name though,” Kerry gushed, unaware of Peter’s total lack of interest in her joke. “I know! I know! Maybe ‘Snowman’… because of your hair. Or, better still, ‘Iceberg’!”

  “Or ‘Wa—’”

  Anna had a horrible feeling she knew what Matt was about to say. Luckily, Peter didn’t and spoke over the top of him.

  “What are you on about, Kerry?” he asked, frowning at his sister’s best friend.

  Kerry started to say something and then just smiled shyly and shrugged. To Anna, she looked a little hurt.

  “Your turn with the hammer, Matt,” Anna pointed out, in an effort to move the conversation on.

  Peter passed the hammer to Matt, who muttered the briefest of “thanks” before turning to the target and readying himself.

  “Interested in rugby, Anna?” Peter began to ask.

  “No, ‘fraid not,” Anna shook her head and tried to concentrate on Matt’s efforts.

  “I would’ve been good enough to play at national level, y’know, if I’d stuck with it,” Peter droned on.

  “Come on-go for it, Matt!” Kerry encouraged her friend, now that she’d found her voice again. “Pretend that target’s the head of someone you really hate!”

  “Don’t worry-that’s exactly what I’m doing!” muttered Matt, raising the hammer above his head and bringing it crashing down.

  The black sphere shot up, stopping a couple of centimetres short of the bell.

  “Nice try, mate,” said Peter patronisingly.

  “Uh, Octophobia’s slowing down,” Anna pointed out quickly. “Shall we go over and try and meet the boys at the exit? Sonja and the others might be back from the Goblin Matrix too.”

  Matt stormed off, wordlessly leading the way.

  Peter blinked his blond eyelashes, unsure of what Anna and Kerry were finding so funny.

  Matt stood beside him, looking as dark as Peter was fair. And it wasn’t just his colouring that was dark-his mood was too. He could see the joke all right, but he wasn’t in the mood to find anything funny.

  Not when Peter was showing off and showing him up, all in an effort to impress Anna.

  “Look at me!” complained Natasha Stanton, holding dripping chunks of hair out on either side of her head. Ollie’s twin sister was suddenly regretting choosing this weekend for a home visit, away from her trendy flat and trendy life in London.

  “Hey, you’re a model, Tash-you can carry off that look!” joked Ollie. “Didn’t you look just like that in that fashion thing you did in Italian Vogue?”

  When the lads had opted for the thrills, spills and soakings of Octophobia, Sonja had suggested going for the total opposite, dragging Tasha, Maya and Alex giggling off in the direction of the Goblin Matrix. It sounded like a soft option-some cutesy ride through Dingly Dell made for little kids.

  Trouble was, those goblins were pretty mean. Sonja and her little gang were more soaked than Ollie and the boys.

  “Very funny, I don’t think,” Natasha snapped back at him.

  Ollie pulled a face at her. He didn’t want to say it out loud, but he was a bit irritated with his sister today. One minute she was acting like a normal person, having fun and goofing around at the theme park; the next, she was having a prima donna strop because some small animatronic goblins had zapped her with water pistols.

  The last thing Matt needed on his birthday was a moody model mooching around in a sulk and, for all her nice side, Ollie knew perfectly well she was capable of switching to that at the drop of a designer-made hat.

  “Listen, I think I need a coffee and burger fix to warm me up after that,” said Alex, standing with his lanky frame wrapped around Maya. “Anyone up for that?”

  The very wettest members of the crew thought it was a great idea. As they squelched off, the others stood around and tried to decide which attraction to go for next. Kerry was just about to agree to Ollie’s suggestion of the theme park’s version of a ghost train ride-Chillerama-when she saw Sonja beckon to her.

  “What’s up?” asked Kerry, hurrying over.

  “Sorry-I’m starving, I have to go with this lot,” said Sonja, pointing behind her. “But go on, tell me! What’s happening with Peter and Anna? How’s it going?”

  “Urn, fine, I think,” shrugged Kerry.

  “Good! So where are you lot off to now?”

  “Chillerama probably.”

  “Perfect! Listen, if you can, try and make it so that Peter and Anna sit together…”

  “Well, I don’t know if I’ll be able to…” said Kerry uncertainly, looking back at Ollie, Tasha, Peter, Anna and Matt, who were all waiting for her to rejoin them.

  “Oh, go on-play Cupid. Please!” urged Sonja. “It would just be perfect to get them together!”

  Kerry bit her lip and knew Sonja that would not take no for an answer.

  Matt watched as Sonja and Kerry talked and knew that it could go on for ages once those two got going.

  “Back in a minute,” he said to the others, who were waiting patiently to head off to Chillerama.

  Fishing 50p out of his pocket, Matt strode over to the flat-topped metal table close by. Sticking his money in the slot, he picked up the squashy hammer chained to the table, gritted his teeth and stared at the holes in front of him.

  “Are you OK?” asked Ollie, appearing by his side.

  “EEK!!”

  Ollie jumped as his friend ferociously thumped the small plastic animal that had appeared out of one of the holes.

  “Yep, I’m all right,” said Matt through gri
tted teeth, scouring the holes for his next victim.

  “EEK!”

  “You, uh, seem to be taking this a bit seriously,” Ollie pointed out.

  “Guess I’m getting rid of a little pent-up aggression,” Matt deadpanned, keeping his eyes fixed on the table.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re taking it out on Hammer-a-Hedgehog and not a real person,” Ollie pointed out. “Anyone I know?”

  Matt scrunched up his nose and said nothing.

  “EEK!”

  As another hedgehog got splatted, Ollie decided not to push the point. Instead, he changed the subject…

  “So, what do you make of Petey-boy then?”

  “EEK!”

  A dull, mechanical thunk from deep inside the machine, plus the disappearance of all thumpable hedgehogs, indicated that the time was up. Matt put down the hammer and looked over his shoulder to where Peter, Anna and Tasha stood waiting.

  “He’s a complete and utter plonker,” said Matt slowly and surely.

  “Yee-hah!” cheered Ollie. “I can’t stand him either!”

  “How come?” asked Matt, shooting a surprised look at his mate.

  “Oh, just the way he’s been sliming round Kerry all week…”

  “Has he?” blinked Matt, trying to recall any specific occasions.

  “To be honest, that’s why I told Anna that Sonny was trying to set them up. I just thought, forewarned is forearmed and that sort of stuff.”

  “You, uh… you don’t think Anna would fall for his brand of bull, do you?” Matt tried to ask nonchalantly.

  “Nah. She’s too smart,” said OIlie.

  Matt shoulders sank with relief.

  “Mind you, I’m keeping my eye on him. Did you see how he reacted when he sussed that Tasha was a model?”

  “No.”

  “Dog with his tongue hanging out, I’m telling you,” said OIlie, raising his top lip at one side. “So how come you can’t stand him?”

  Matt hadn’t anticipated this question. For a second, his mind whirred frantically as he tried to come up with anything but the truth.

  “He’s just a big-head, always mouthing off about himself,” he finally shrugged. “And he wants my car.”