Suzy P, Forever Me

by Karen Saunders

  The door opens again, this time Mr Groves strides in, followed by Jade and Kara, who look like they’d rather be anywhere else. They scowl fiercely in my direction.

  “Hello, Mrs Morgan. Have we got everyone?” Mr Groves asks. He consults his checklist and nods his head. “Yep. Right, now, I know I’ve been coordinating things so far with you all, but I’m the acting head now Mrs Cooper has left.”

  He pauses proudly for a moment, adjusting his tie and looking around the room. I don’t know what he expects, a round of applause or something?

  As nobody looks particularly bothered, Groves clears his throat and continues. “As I said, I’m acting headmaster, so I’ve got a heavy workload. Unfortunately I don’t really have time to coordinate the fundraiser as well, as much as I’d love to. So I’m leaving you in the trusty hands of Mrs Morgan, who will be taking over from me. She’s had a lot of experience in organising events, she puts on our fantastic Christmas shows every year and coordinates all our school productions –”

  “Directs,” Mrs Morgan interrupts.

  “Pardon?”

  “You said organising and coordinating,” Mrs Morgan says, smiling broadly. She’s got raspberry-pink lipstick on her front teeth. “The correct term is directing, when one is talking about the theatre.”

  “Ah, okay. My apologies,” Mr Groves says. “As I was saying, Mrs Morgan has directed our Christmas shows and school productions –”

  “And I’m RADA-trained,” Mrs Morgan interrupts.

  “And she’s RADA-trained,” Mr Groves says. “Taking all that into consideration we thought she was the perfect person on the staff to take over.”

  You know, just when I think things can’t get any worse, somehow the universe still manages to poop on me from a great height.

  “So I’m going to leave you in her capable hands,” Mr Groves says. You can practically see him doing a little jig of joy at having got rid of us. “Thank you, Mrs Morgan.”

  And with that, he’s gone.

  “Right then,” Mrs Morgan says, looking around. “Let’s get started. As you know, everyone voted for Millie, Jamie and Suzy’s ‘Star Factor’ theme, so they’ll be coordinating everything. The PTA will, of course, be helping out too, managing finances, budgets, all that kind of thing. But you’ll be choosing what you want to happen at the party – it’s a great test of your organisational skills and will be a wonderful learning experience for you. You’ll gain so much from this. I’ll be sitting back here if you need anything.”

  And with that Mrs Morgan plonks herself in a chair, pulls some marking out of her bag and gets to work.

  Which leaves me and Millie staring at each other helplessly. Yes, it was our idea, but we thought we’d be getting more help than this! I thought that’s what Mrs Morgan was for. We’ve never done anything like this before, we’ve got no idea what we’re doing!

  “Aren’t you going to help?” I say.

  Mrs Morgan looks up. “With the insurance and the technical bits. But the fundraiser itself, well, that’s down to you.” She smiles at me falsely. “Of course, I think I could have directed a wonderful play and sold tickets to raise money for this, but I was pooh-poohed by certain staff members. Away you go, girls.”

  Right. That explains why she’s not helping out then.

  Nobody really looks like they’re paying much attention. A couple of the boys are swinging on their chairs. Some of the others are texting.

  “Um, I guess the first thing we need to do is appoint a committee leader,” I say.

  “That should be you, shouldn’t it?” Jade says. She fake-smiles across the table.

  “Definitely,” says Kara. “It really should be, seeing as how you’re the one with The Drifting contacts, right?”

  “It means you’ll be in charge of all the meetings,” Jade points out helpfully.

  “And keep us up to date with where we are with things. Like The Drifting,” Kara adds.

  Gah. I hate them both so much. They totally know I’ve backed myself into a corner. And aren’t they loving rubbing it in?

  It’s clear from the expression on Mrs Morgan’s face she doesn’t want me in charge of this party. No way, José.

  “Are we sure we’re all happy with Suzy?” she asks.

  “I am,” Jade says.

  “Me too,” Kara adds.

  A couple of the others shrug. I look at my friends in desperation, but they just make helpless faces at me.

  “We’ll back you up, don’t worry,” Millie whispers, giving my shoulder a squeeze.

  “Well, then, I guess you’re in,” Mrs Morgan says, barely disguising a sigh. “Are you up to the task?”

  I grit my teeth and say casually, “Course. Not a problem. So, um, let’s get this meeting going.” I think quickly, remembering how Mum started planning Dad’s party. “I guess the next thing to do is write down a list of the things we’re going to need to sort out. Mills, have you got some paper you can lend me?”

  Millie pulls a notebook from her bag and slides it across the table.

  “Okay. Great. So, I, er…” C’mon, Suzy, wake up! Show everyone that you’re confident and in charge and totally the kind of person The Drifting would be happy to talk to.

  “Food!” I blurt, as I see Jamie pull a sandwich out of his bag and start tucking in. “We need to think about catering. And… costumes.”

  “Decorations,” contributes Millie.

  “Yep,” I say, nodding as I continue to write. Finally, someone else is helping!

  “Venue,” she adds.

  “Don’t we already have a venue?” Jamie says. “Aren’t we having it at the school?”

  “We don’t have to,” Millie says. “It could be amazing if we could find somewhere else to host it –”

  “The PTA want it in the school, to save money,” interrupts Mrs Morgan.

  “Okay,” Millie says. “We’ll just have to think of a way to decorate it to make it look amazing.”

  “Budget is something else we need to think about,” Danny says. “Working out prices and how much the tickets and stuff are going to cost. We need to get enough money to pay for everything and make enough money on top of that to put towards the recording studio at the end of it all. The recording studio’s going to be seriously expensive.”

  Danny’s right. Gulp. This could turn out to be harder than we’d thought.

  “The PTA will sort all that and let you know how much you’ve got to spend,” Mrs Morgan says. “They’re meeting soon; I’ll get the figures to you after that. Just concentrate on what you need to get organised for now.”

  “Okay, venue’s done, so catering, decorations, entertainment,” Millie lists. “Then we’ll need to do all the admin, ticket sales, posters. And sorting out sound-systems for the singers. People will need mikes, and all that kind of thing. And costumes. Also, if anyone knows anybody who’d be able to help us out, shout. We’re going to have to talk to businesses about donating raffle prizes, too.”

  Wow. I take a deep breath and lean back in my seat. There’s SO much to do.

  “And, of course, there’s The Drifting,” Jade says snarkily. She raises one eyebrow. “I assume they are still coming?”

  “Course,” Millie says confidently. “Suzy and I are handling that, aren’t we?”

  I nod my head weakly.

  “Let’s start divvying up some of these jobs,” Millie says. “Anyone here into art and can put some poster and tickets designs together?”

  “You’re good at designing stuff, aren’t you, Zach?” Sophie says. “I’m in his art class. He’s really talented.”

  “Um…”

  It’s obvious Zach is torn between wanting to agree because he’s flattered by what Sophie’s said, and not wanting to participate in this whole fiasco.

  “You two are helping,” Zach mutters to Max and Ryan. “I’m not doing it by myself.”

  “I –” I don’t know how to say I don’t trust them to do anything like that. I guess I’ll just have to hop
e it’ll be okay.

  “Great, thanks,” Millie makes a note. “Why don’t you mock up some designs before the next meeting and we’ll choose which one we like best.”

  “Anyone else want to volunteer for anything?” I ask, doing my best to sound like I’m totally in control. “We’ll give out specific jobs next time, but is there anything anyone really wants to do?”

  Silence.

  Funnily enough, Jade and Kara, who had all the people in the world willing to help out when it was their idea, don’t say a word. Nobody else wants to meet my eyes either.

  “We’ll help with whatever you need,” Danny says.

  Thank goodness my friends are here.

  “What do you two think about coordinating the stage?” I ask. “You could paint the set?”

  Jamie shrugs. “Sure.”

  “Great. So, um, what next?” I look at Millie for help.

  “Decorations? We need to have a chat about how the room’s going to look.”

  “We can do that,” Jade says, looking at Kara with a sly smile.

  “Um…” I’m trying to think of a way to say ‘No way in hell are we leaving YOU in charge of something so important’ politely.

  “Are you sure?” Millie says, clearly having the same doubts as me.

  “Yeah,” Kara says, nodding in a totally false way that makes me instantly suspicious. “We’ll get it sorted.”

  “You’ll need to let us know what kind of thing you’re planning,” Millie says.

  “Why?” Jade says. “Don’t you trust us?”

  Nobody dares say no.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I’ve now sent five emails to The Drifting Facebook account, and seven to the record company contact details I found online. Not that I’m becoming obsessive or anything.

  But why haven’t they replied? Why? Why? Don’t they know this is an emergency? Aargh, what if it’s because they’re splitting up, like that magazine said?

  I hit the F5 key to see if anything’s come in, but nope. The last email I have is one from Millie, sending around the minutes from the committee meeting.

  I sit back in the chair and spin round aimlessly. I’ve got loads of emails and things I need to be sending to get stuff sorted for Dad’s birthday party. My brain wants to explode at the moment with the amount I’ve got on. I’ve just opened up the internet browser when, from upstairs, I hear a huge crash followed by a scream and then the sound of babies crying.

  Oh lordy. What was that?

  I race upstairs, knock on Amber and Mark’s bedroom door and when I throw it open, inside it’s chaos. There’s an enormous heap of clothes on the floor, and it seems that Mark’s tripped over, he’s sitting on the floor rubbing his forehead, which now has an enormous purple lump on it. He’s whacked it on the chest of drawers on the way down, I think. Amber’s crying her eyes out, as are Uni and Chichi. In the corner, hiding under a chair, is Crystal Fairybelle, whimpering and trembling.

  “Are you all right, Markymoo?” Amber says between sobs. “Please say something.”

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “Crystal Fairybelle got under my feet, I tripped over him and this pile of clothes, went down and whacked my head,” Mark says. He blinks in a confused fashion.

  Mum comes rushing in. “What’s going on, what was that noise?”

  Amber starts crying all over again. “Mark fell over the dog and hit his head and the babies are crying and the dog’s upset and… and… and…”

  Mum picks up Uni and passes her to me before picking up Chichi. I juggle Uni up and down awkwardly and soon she starts to calm down. Huh. Maybe I’m getting better at this baby stuff.

  “Are you okay, Mark?” Mum says. “Sit down, let’s have a look at you. It’s quite a lump you’ve got there, you might need it checked.”

  “I think I’ll be all right, but I should probably try to get the swelling to go down. Is there a bag of peas in the freezer?”

  Mum nods, while Amber looks confused. “How is eating peas going to help your head?”

  Mark laughs. “I’m going to use the bag to help the lump go down.”

  Amber dashes off down the stairs and soon returns with the open bag, shedding peas all over the place.

  “Thanks,” Mark says. He presses the bag against his forehead, wincing slightly as he does so. “We really need some more room.”

  “I know,” Amber wails. “But where are we supposed to go?”

  “Nowhere,” Mum says. “You’re not going anywhere. We’ll find a way to make this work. I don’t want you thinking you have to move out.”

  “It’s not that we feel we have to,” Mark says. “But four of us, plus a dog, in here… it’s not working, this kind of proves it. And we’ll have to think of something else when the babies get bigger, anyway. We’ll never fit two cots in.”

  “I’ll talk to your dad and see what we can do,” Mum says, putting her arm around Amber.

  “Thanks, Mum,” Amber says, smiling weakly.

  It’s strange to see her like this. Amber’s usually so happy and fluffy, drifting around on her own private planet.

  “Shall I take Uni down and put her under the play gym?” I ask.

  “That would be great, thanks,” Amber says.

  Mum and I head downstairs with the babies.

  The next day, when Mark gets home from work, he and Amber disappear into their bedroom for a really long time. I can hear them talking, although I can’t make out what they’re saying. Turns out that glass-against-the-wall thing doesn’t work nearly as well as the movies would have you believe.

  It all goes quiet, then there’s a knock at the door. I leap away from the wall guiltily.

  “Can you come downstairs?” Amber asks. “I’ve got something I want to talk to everyone about.”

  I follow her downstairs to the kitchen, where everyone else is already waiting. My mind’s whirring about what they could be about to say. It’s not necessarily something big. Amber has been known to make a huge drama out of tiny things on regular occasions. She probably wants to dye her hair and is canvassing opinions.

  “What’s this about?” Dad asks.

  “Mark and I have got something to tell you –” Amber begins.

  “Oh good grief, you’re not pregnant again, are you?” Dad interrupts.

  “No way!” Amber looks appalled. In her arms, Chichi starts to grumble. “You can’t be hungry again. You’re like an eating machine. Mum, could you grab the milk, please?”

  “Course,” Mum says, grabbing a sterilised bottle and a small carton of milk. She makes the bottle up, and then gently takes the baby from Amber. “I’ll do it, love.”

  “Great, thanks. Is she still asleep?” Amber asks Mark, who’s got Uni snuggled up on his chest.

  “They’re growing every day, aren’t they?” Mum says, as Chichi’s big blue eyes stare up at her while she sucks hard on the bottle’s teat. “It’s so lovely to see how much they’re changing.”

  “So what did you want to talk to us about?” I ask impatiently. Jeez, these two are easily distracted.

  “Harry, can you turn that off, please?” Amber says, as she spots Harry zooming in on her face. “I look terrible.”

  “Just filming family moments,” Harry says. “There, I’ve turned it off, see?”

  She’s so lying. The red light is still flashing.

  “So. Um, we’ve had some good news, haven’t we, Mark?” Amber says.

  “You’re moving out?” Dad says hopefully, taking a big gulp of tea.

  “Actually… yes.”

  Dad starts to choke. “You are?”

  All the colour drains from Mum’s face. “You’re moving out?”

  Mark nods. “You know my friend Josh? He’s got a placement out in Australia for a year so he’s been asking at work if anyone was available to housesit. I spoke to him about it today. It’s been short notice and he’s been struggling to find someone, so he agreed to give us a really cheap rent. By the time he gets back we migh
t have saved up enough to put down a deposit on our own place.”

  “Well, this is fantastic,” Dad says.

  “Daddy!” Amber says crossly. “You don’t have to seem quite so pleased. I know you’ve dropped a billion hints, but I thought you’d be a little bit sad to see us go.”

  “Hah, no chance,” Dad says. He’s practically dancing a jig in the corner of the room.

  “I’m sad,” Mum says. She stares down at Chichi nestled in her arms. “I’m going to miss you all.”

  “You won’t miss being woken up in the middle of the night,” Dad mutters.

  Mum ignores him. “The thought of not having you around… are you going to be all right, love?”

  “She’ll be fine,” Mark says, putting his arm around his wife. “You’ve seen how amazing she is with the girls.”

  Mum doesn’t look too sure, and I know why. I don’t think Amber realises how much Mum does to help out… cooking their meals, washing their clothes, doing some of the night feeds… she could be in for serious trouble when Mum’s not on hand any more.

  “And does this mean the dog’s going, too?” Dad says. “This gets better and better.”

  “Um, well, actually Dad, Crystal’s a bit of a problem,” Amber says. She glances over at Crystal Fairybelle, tucked up in his basket, head between his paws. “One of the conditions of us staying there so cheaply is that we look after Josh’s cat. But the cat hates dogs, so we’re not going to be able to take Crystal. I was wondering if we could leave him with you.” Amber’s eyes brim with tears. “The thought of leaving him behind is killing me.”

  “I’m not sure,” Dad says, frowning. “Who’s going to look after him?”

  “Not me,” Harry says. “I’ve got my hands full with Hagrid. I’m trying to teach him to do a forward roll.”

  “We’ll only be there a year, and as soon as we get our own place Crystal can live with us again,” Amber says. “I can’t bear the thought of getting him rehomed.”

  “That won’t happen,” Mum says. “Of course Crystal can stay. I’ll look after him.”