Suzy P, Forever Me

by Karen Saunders

  Some of this stuff does look amazing, though. There are glowing silhouette pictures of some of the big stars of the time – Madonna, Michael Jackson and Harrison Ford – as well as some weird poster for something called ‘Space Invaders’. No idea if Space Invaders are a band or something. I’ll have to ask Danny; guaranteed he’d know. There are also huge brightly coloured beanbags that look super cosy, and giant Rubik’s Cubes.

  “Millie, look at these!”

  Millie gasps when she sees what I’m pointing at. “They’re perfect! Just what we need!”

  I’ve spotted giant microphones, jukeboxes and, off to one side, some purple and gold thrones that would be ideal judges’ chairs.

  I take a couple of pictures of some of the items and am about to tuck my phone into my pocket when a text comes in. It’s from Danny.

  How r u getin on?

  My eyes widen as I see a Stormtrooper statue not far away. I run over, drape my arm around its neck, then grin as I take a selfie of the pair of us. Hah! Danny’s going to freak when he sees this…

  I smile to myself as I send the pic over. Sure enough, there’s an instant reply.

  U hv 2 gt it!

  Then another text comes in:

  Dat pic iz my nu screensaver !

  I can’t help but laugh. Danny really does love Star Wars. But there’s no way I’m ordering a Stormtrooper. He’ll have to be happy with the photo.

  As I look around, I realise I can’t see Millie any more. Where’s she gone?

  “Millie?”

  No answer.

  “Mills?” I call again, starting to walk towards the place I last saw her.

  “Hello, Suzy, how are you?” A hand appears from behind an enormous green dragon moving its mouth up and down as if it’s talking.

  Despite my thumping heart, I crack up laughing.

  “This place is the best,” Millie says, laughing too as she emerges from behind the dragon. “I could stay here forever!”

  “Look at all those statues,” I say, pointing to a row of enormous Oscar statuettes. They’re even taller than me.

  “Ooh, I want this polar bear,” Millie says. The bear is bigger than she is, holding its paws in front of him as he stands on his two back legs. “He seems kind of friendly, don’t you think? I’d keep him in my bedroom.”

  “Murphy wouldn’t approve. He’d eat it,” I point out, thinking of how crazy Millie’s enormous dog is.

  “Hmm. Yeah. You’re probably right. He is utterly amazing, though.”

  “Look at these!” I pull out some fabulous feather headdresses, with plumes of purple and silver, along with some amazing enormous feathery fans.

  “Oooh, gimme!” Millie snatches one of each and puts hers on. I join her and fan myself, batting my eyelashes.

  “Now all we need is sequin leotards and we’ll be well away,” Millie says.

  I snort. “No chance.”

  Millie starts to dance and twirl about.

  Ah well, if you can’t beat ’em…

  I start leaping around, flinging my fan to the left, then to the right. Then we do a kind of routine, swishing our fans above our heads.

  Millie starts to twirl again, and I copy her, spinning, spinning, until – whoa. Now I’m feeling all kinds of dizzy. I stop, trying to get my bearings, but everything’s still moving. Completely unable to stop myself, I stagger towards the line of enormous Oscar statuettes, and put a hand out to steady myself.

  Unfortunately the statuettes are nowhere near as heavy as they look.

  One falls… and knocks over the one behind it… which knocks over the one behind that… and on, and on, until they’ve all gone down like dominoes.

  Millie and I are paralysed with fear as we watch them. There’s absolutely nothing we can do to stop it.

  By the end of the line there’s an enormous crash as the last one knocks into the polar bear.

  The polar bear wobbles and then topples over onto the floor…

  And its head falls off.

  Millie and I stare at each other in horror. “What did you do?” Millie whispers.

  “I don’t know,” I whisper back, and then I start to laugh. I can’t help it. The polar bear looks so daft lying headless underneath a pile of statuettes.

  Millie starts to laugh too. Soon we’re howling in the middle of the shop, with one of those shaking giggling fits where you can’t stop. The double doors across the room fly open, and Greasy rushes in.

  “What’s going on?”

  We stop laughing in an instant.

  He skids to a stop when he sees the broken bear. “Oh my God, did you do that? My bosses aren’t going to be happy.”

  “I’m so sorry. It was a complete accident,” I say.

  “You’re going to have to pay for it,” he says, pointing to a sign on the wall. “All breakages must be paid for.”

  “But… but… that’s not fair!” I protest.

  “Rules are rules,” Greasy says. “I’ll check the paperwork and tell you how much you owe.”

  I stare at Millie in dismay. “We haven’t got much budget. Now what are we going to do?”

  “Let’s see how much it’s going to cost first,” Millie says.

  “Mills, we decapitated a giant polar bear. Do you really think it’s going to be cheap?”

  A few minutes later Greasy strides back over. “You owe £150. We’ve got insurance, but you need to pay towards the costs.”

  “£150!” I’m horrified. That’s all of the budget the PTA gave us, and we were working on a shoestring anyway. How are we going to be able to get all the props and stuff we need now?

  “This is a nightmare,” I mutter.

  “Is there really no way round this?” Millie pleads. “Please? Pretty please?”

  Greasy shakes his head. “’Fraid not. You’ve got fourteen days to pay.”

  I sigh. “Mrs Morgan’s going to love this.”

  We leave as Greasy’s trying to fix the head onto the polar bear. I take one last longing look at the giant microphone and the jukebox and the judges’ thrones before the doors swing shut. All the stuff that would have looked so amazing, but now we’re not going to be able to get.

  “That went well,” I say.

  “Aw, Suze, don’t stress, we’ll figure something out,” Millie says, giving me a big squeeze.

  But I don’t know what we’re going to do. I don’t know what we’re going to be able to figure out. How are we supposed to come up with the props for the party now? It’s going to look rubbish.

  I could cry, I really could.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  We’re hanging out at Jamie’s. His parents are in London again, and this feels like the best place for us right now. Shut away from the rest of the world, trying to figure out the mess that we’re in.

  Although my friends are obviously concerned about the way things are going, I’m definitely the most stressed. After all, I promised that The Drifting were coming. And I was the one that decapitated the polar bear. I got into a ton of trouble with the PTA over that, and they’ve said we can’t have any more cash, the budget doesn’t allow for it. We’re going to have to figure out a way to get free props now. Mrs Morgan was seriously unimpressed. I swivel miserably on one of the bar stools.

  “Why are your parents spending all this time in London?” Millie asks Jamie. “They’ve been there loads lately.”

  Jamie doesn’t answer, instead he grabs a loaf of bread and starts hacking slices off it.

  “J?” Millie asks. “What’s up?”

  When Jamie turns round, his face looks glum. “They started off working up there, but now I think it might be more than that.”

  “What do you mean?” Millie asks.

  Jamie sighs. “I have a horrible feeling they’re thinking of moving.”

  “What?” shrieks Millie. “Are you kidding? You can’t move to London!”

  Jamie shrugs.

  “Why do you think that, mate?” Danny asks. “Have they said anything?”
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  Jamie shakes his head. “I found some London property details in the study. They’ve been looking at houses there.”

  All the colour has drained out of Millie’s cheeks. “No. You can’t go. You can’t leave us behind.”

  “It’s not like I want to,” Jamie says, making everyone doorstep cheese and pickle sandwiches.

  “Have you asked them?” I say.

  Jamie pulls a face. “Course. And they said they weren’t. But I dunno, they looked all weird and secretive. I’m not sure they were telling the truth. And it’s not like I see the parentals much at the moment, anyway. Since they won this huge business pitch they’ve been working on some hush-hush project that’s taking up all of their time. I’m not allowed to know what it is. They’ve had to sign disclaimers and all sorts.”

  “Aren’t you curious?” I ask. I’d be dying to know what was going on if it was my parents.

  “Nah,” Jamie says, sliding the plates of food across the worktop. “They’ve done this kind of thing before. The last one was for a new design for a bleach bottle. Majorly unexciting.”

  “But it could be something exciting this time,” Danny says.

  “Unlikely,” Jamie says. “Although if it’s for food, we sometimes get loads of freebies, which is cool. You guys want to go through to the lounge and hang there?”

  I can tell he wants to chat to Millie and make sure she’s okay, so Danny and I head to the lounge where we flop on one of the ginormous sofas.

  “You all right?” Danny asks. His hand briefly rubs over my back. “It sucks about Jamie.”

  “It does. As if enough didn’t suck already,” I say self-pityingly.

  “We’ll figure something out,” Danny says. “I’m kind of worried about you. You’re getting so stressed.”

  “I know, I’m sorry,” I say, and then it all comes tumbling out. “I just feel like everything’s my fault. I’m the one who opened my stupid big mouth. I’m the one who lost all the props budget after what happened in the warehouse. I’m the one leading this committee in what’s building up to be the worst party in the history of parties. And I’m the one who’s going to be in major trouble with all the teachers when they find out I told a big fat lie!”

  My eyes are brimming with tears.

  Danny leans forward to give me a big hug. “Oh, Suze. It’ll be okay…”

  I don’t have a chance to answer him because my phone rings. It’s Mum.

  “Where are you?” she asks.

  “At Jamie’s. Why?”

  “Have you forgotten that Amber and Mark are moving out tonight? You were supposed to come straight home after school.”

  Flip. That had completely slipped my mind.

  “Um, I was only picking up a textbook for homework,” I lie. “I’m leaving now, see you soon.”

  “Okay,” Mum says. “See you in a bit.”

  “I’ve got to go,” I say, as I end the call. “Amber’s moving out today; I’m supposed to be there.”

  “No prob,” Danny says. “Want me to come with you?”

  I shake my head. “Nah. I’m okay. Thanks, though.”

  “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

  “Later,” I say, as I stuff the last of my sandwich into my mouth and grab a handful of crisps for the walk home.

  Back at the house, it’s chaos. There’s stuff everywhere, mainly shoved into black bin liners; they’ve obviously run out of boxes. Mum, Dad and Mark are doing most of the lifting and packing of things into the cars, while Amber seems to be wafting around in more of a supervisory capacity, not doing very much that’s actually useful.

  Wow. I can’t believe moving day is finally here.

  My big sister is leaving home, taking her husband and twins with her. Even if she is leaving the dog behind.

  It’s weird to think she won’t be around any more. She’s been on the other side of my bedroom wall my whole life.

  In a funny sort of way, I think I’m going to miss her.

  Although I won’t miss being woken up at 1 a.m. by the babies. Or 2 a.m. Or 4 a.m. Or 6 a.m. Last night was not a good night.

  Dad’s so happy he’s practically skipping around the house. And I’m sure I’ve heard him mutter “one down, two to go” more than once. Flipping charming, no?

  Mum, on the other hand, is a mess. Worrying and flapping and fretting – and doing her best not to cry. I caught her burying her head in the washing machine earlier, attempting to hide her sobs.

  I give her a hug. “Come on, Mum, they’re only moving to the other side of town, it’s not that far. Only a short drive in the car.”

  “I’m just not sure I’m ready for them to leave,” Mum sniffs. “And I’m worried how Amber’s going to cope by herself. You know what she’s like…”

  “I know, but people have babies all the time and manage,” I try to reassure her, even though I can totally see why Mum’s freaking. Amber with one baby by herself would be bad enough, but two? She’s way outnumbered.

  “I can’t believe my little girl is leaving home,” Mum says, dabbing at her eyes with a raggedy tissue. “My nest is starting to empty.”

  “But you’ve still got two of us left,” I say. “Although please don’t call me a little girl, or I may be forced to kill you.”

  “I know,” Mum says. “And it’ll be lovely to spend more time with you and Harry. I can help you with your homework, and we can go on girls’ days out, and have movie nights… ooh, that’s cheered me right up. It’ll be great, won’t it?”

  Instantly she seems to be happier, while I’m left slightly horrified. The thought of mother/daughter bonding time isn’t all that appealing to be honest. Yikes.

  “What will we do together first?” Mum says.

  “Er, let’s chat about it later,” I say. “I think I can hear a baby crying.”

  “You can?” Mum says, dashing off.

  I can’t. But they cry so much, there’s a pretty good chance there’s wailing going on somewhere.

  Amber wanders past with a hairbrush, which she stuffs into one of the bags.

  “Do you want to give us a hand, Amber?” Dad asks, hefting several boxes and turning a funny shade of purple as he realises they’re heavier than they look.

  “I will, in a minute,” Amber says vaguely. “But right now you’re doing a wonderful job.”

  “All this is never going to fit,” Dad says, as he returns for a lamp, a suitcase and the twins’ play gym.

  “We can come back for a second trip,” Mark says. “Who knew Amber had so many shoes?”

  Dad rolls his eyes.

  It takes well over an hour to jam stuff into the two cars, and even then it’s obvious they’re going to need to come back. The baby stuff alone takes up most of the Volvo.

  “Right, we’re going to drive this lot across town,” Dad says to me and Harry, slamming the boot.

  “You two going to be all right here?” Mum says. There’s no way we could go with them even if we wanted to, every spare centimetre is crammed full.

  “Sure,” I say.

  “Keep an eye on your sister,” Mum adds.

  Amber comes over and puts her hands on my shoulders. Then she pulls me close into a hug so tight I can barely move and starts to sob.

  I think I’d be more upset if I could actually get some oxygen. At the moment all I can think about is the fact my lungs are getting seriously crushed.

  “Um, Ambs?” I gasp. “I can’t… really… breathe.”

  Amber pulls away, leaving a snot trail on my shoulder. Gross. My lungs expand gratefully.

  “I really am going to miss you,” she says.

  “I’ll miss you too,” I say. And I mean it. Sure my sister is bonkers but she’s a lot of fun to have around. And she has a lot of cool clothes to borrow. And what am I going to do without her make-up stash to raid?

  “The girls are going to miss having their favourite aunt around, too,” Amber adds mournfully.

  “Hey!” Harry says from behind her phone. She’s
filming everything, of course.

  “Sorry. Joint favourite aunt,” Amber amends.

  “We’ll come and see you soon,” I say.

  “Bye!” Harry says. “Don’t hug me,” she warns, as Amber advances on her.

  “Bye, guys,” Mark says, giving me a quick hug and slapping a high five with Harry.

  “Amber, are you sure you can look after the babies by yourself?” Mum asks.

  “Course I can,” Amber says. “I’ve been doing it for weeks, haven’t I?”

  “Well, I have been around to help you out if you’ve needed it,” Mum says tactfully. “And you don’t do any cleaning or laundry while you’re here, you’ve got me helping you out with that. It might be a shock to the system when you’re totally by yourself. And are you sure you’re going to be all right with the cooking?”

  Amber laughs. “Luckily melon and tabasco sauce don’t take much preparation.”

  “Yes, but you’re not going to be on that diet forever, are you?” Mum says. “And Mark might want to eat at some point.”

  Amber waves her hand breezily. “Mum, you’re so sweet. But of course I can clean. And cook. The babies and I will be okay.”

  Mum looks deeply sceptical. As well she should. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Amber do any cleaning. I’d be astonished if she even knew what a hoover was, let alone how to turn one on.

  “Look, I tell you what, we’ll have you all over for supper,” Amber says. “We’ll need enough time to unpack first.” Her eyes fall on the calendar hanging on the noticeboard. “What about… ooh, Bonfire Night’s not that far away. Why don’t you come over and we’ll have a little party, some food and fireworks.”

  “That sounds lovely,” Mum says, “but are you sure? It could be a lot of work.”

  “No it won’t, it’ll be easy-peasy. Could you give Uni her bottle?” Amber says, thrusting the baby at Mum. “I need to paint my nails. Thanks, you’re the best!”

  “Amber, we’re leaving!” Mark says.

  “Won’t be long,” Amber calls. “And Uni needs feeding.”