‘No one has a clue. Oh well. Can’t be helped. Look, they’ve got a pub garden. Would you care to join me for a glass of something fizzy, sweetheart?’
Dad had a beer and I had a lemonade sitting huddled up on the wooden furniture. There was a little plastic slide and a Wendy house in the garden, Tiger-size. I wondered what he was up to in Australia. Maybe he’d forget all about me in six months. Steve probably wanted to forget about me. But I knew Mum was missing me. She kept phoning me, and once or twice it sounded as if she might be crying.
‘Dad, what are we going to do about Mum phoning? Will we give her Billy the Chip’s number?’
‘Oh dear, I don’t know. I – I wasn’t actually going to tell her we were moving, as it were. I know she’ll think it’s not suitable, our living at Billy’s.’ Dad put his pint mug down, sighing. ‘Who am I kidding? It’s not suitable, dragging you off to some funny old man’s house. Goodness knows what state it’s in. He seemed a bit fussed about it, didn’t he? Oh Lordy, Floss, I hope this works out.’
‘Of course it’ll work out, Dad.’ I put my glass down too and felt in my jeans for my pocket-money purse. ‘Right, it’s my round now, Dad. What are you having, another beer?’
Dad laughed and ruffled my curls but wouldn’t let me pay. He bought another pint for himself, another lemonade for me, and a packet of crisps each.
We walked home holding hands. Lucky greeted us sleepily when we came in, giving us little mews of welcome, as if she’d been our cat ever since she was a newborn kitten.
14
WHEN I GOT to school on Monday Rhiannon was strolling round the playground with Margot and Judy. They had their arms linked, their heads close together. I hovered, not sure whether to run up to them or not.
‘She’s like so boring now,’ said Rhiannon. ‘But Mum says I’ve got to be kind to her, though I don’t see why. We bought her, like, the most exquisite outfit because her clothes are, like, so pathetic.’
‘And babyish,’ said Margot.
‘And smelly,’ said Judy.
They all tittered.
‘But it was, like, a waste of time because she barely said thank you!’
I started trembling. I ran right round them and shouted, ‘Thank you thank you thank you!’ right in Rhiannon’s startled face.
‘Hey, cool it, Floss!’ said Rhiannon, giggling uneasily.
‘I didn’t want the denim outfit. I didn’t want to go out with you on Saturday! I wanted to see Susan and I wish wish wish I had!’ I shouted.
Rhiannon stopped laughing. Her face hardened, the delicate arches of her eyebrows nearly meeting in the middle. ‘Yeah, it figures. You and Swotty Potty. You’re a right pair. You deserve each other. You be friends with her then, Smelly Chip.’
I wanted to be friends with Susan, but I wasn’t sure she still wanted to be friends with me. I saw her way over at the other end of the playground, walking by herself, tapping each slat of the fence. I hurried towards her but she saw me coming and ran into school.
‘Susan! Wait! Please, I want to talk to you,’ I shouted, but she didn’t even turn round.
I ran to the school entrance and rushed to the girls’ cloakrooms, where we’d always met before. I barged straight through two girls giggling together.
‘What’s up with Floss?’
‘Maybe she’s got galloping diarrhoea?’
They cackled with laughter while I ran up and down the toilets. They were all empty. There was no sign of Susan.
I set off down the corridor, charged round the corner and ran right into Mrs Horsefield, nearly knocking her flying.
‘Oh! I’m so sorry, Mrs Horsefield,’ I gabbled.
‘It’s good you’re in such a hurry to come to school on Monday morning, Floss,’ said Mrs Horsefield. She held me at arm’s length. ‘But you don’t look too happy, my dear. You’re not running away from someone, are you?’
‘No, no, I’m trying to run to someone,’ I said.
‘Well, I hope you find them,’ said Mrs Horsefield. She paused. ‘If that someone’s Susan, I think I saw her going into the library.’
‘Oh thank you, Mrs Horsefield.’
‘Don’t be too long finding her now. Registration’s in five minutes.’
I set off for the library. Susan was standing by the shelves, fingering her way along the first row of books as if she was playing them like a piano.
‘Susan!’
She jumped, and dodged round the other side of the bookshelves.
‘Susan, you can’t keep running away from me like this! You’ll be sitting in front of me in five minutes. Please listen to me. I’m so so sorry I wasn’t completely honest about Saturday. I was just so stupid and I feel awful now. I don’t know why I went to Rhiannon’s. I didn’t have a good time at all. I don’t want to be friends with her any more. I want to be friends with you. Please say you forgive me. Will you come to my place next Saturday and we’ll have fun together and eat Dad’s chip butties?’
Susan blinked at me as I spoke, twitching her fingers. There was a little pause when I stopped.
‘Do you know, you said exactly one hundred words,’ she said in a matter-of-fact way.
‘Susan, please, did you listen to what I was saying?’
‘Yes, I listened. You want to be my friend now because Rhiannon’s gone off with Margot and Judy.’
‘No! Well, yes, she has, but I broke friends with her, I truly did.’
‘Yes, well, whatever. Only the thing is, Floss, I don’t really want to be your second-best friend.’
‘No, I want you to be my first-best friend. Will you come next Saturday?’
Susan shrugged. ‘I think I’ve probably got something on next Saturday.’ She paused. ‘I have to go to this conference thing with my parents. Maybe the Saturday after?’
‘That won’t be any use. Oh Susan, we won’t have the café any more. Please don’t tell anyone, but my dad hasn’t kept up all his payments and we have to move out and we’re going to stay at Billy the Chip’s place but it sounds like it’s going to be really weird and Dad’s going to run his van outside the station and that’s going to be weird too and what am I going to do when Dad’s out working and I’m a bit scared about it but I haven’t liked to say because Dad’s so fussed about everything.’
‘Oh Floss!’ said Susan, and she put her arms round me.
I started crying and she patted me on the back.
‘You won’t tell anyone, will you?’
‘Of course not! I won’t say a word. I’m sure I’ll be able to come on Saturday. I don’t want to go to my parents’ conference one bit – they just haven’t got anyone to leave me with. Hey, Floss, did you know you said another exact hundred words. It’s like you’ve got this weird gift! One hundred is my all-time lucky number too.’
‘So we’re friends now?’
‘Best friends,’ said Susan, giving me a squeeze. ‘I’ve wanted to be your best friend ever since I came to this school. Are you sure you’re OK about it though? Rhiannon might start being your worst enemy now.’
‘I don’t care,’ I said, though my heart began thudding at the thought. ‘I wish I didn’t still have to sit next to her.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Susan. ‘If she tries any funny business I’ll turn round and yank her off her chair again.’
‘Yes, she looked so surprised when she landed on her bum,’ I said, and we both giggled.
‘She’ll be even more nasty and totally mean when she finds out about Dad and me leaving the café and going to live with Billy the Chip. And I don’t know what will happen when he comes back from seeing his son. Dad says I should go to Australia to be with Mum, and there’s a bit of me that wants to, but I can’t leave Dad, I’m all he’s got. Well, he’s got Lucky too, but she’s really my cat. OK, we’ll have to see if she belongs to anyone else but I’m hoping like anything she’ll be mine.’
Susan was counting on her fingers as I spoke. She stared at me in awe. ‘That’s another hundred! You are a to
tal phenomenon, Floss.’
‘A what?’
‘A phenomenon. It means you’ve done something utterly extraordinary.’
‘A phenonion?’ I tried hard but I couldn’t say it.
I started mixing Susan up too, so that neither of us could say it without spluttering with laughter.
‘Seriously though,’ I said, wiping my eyes. ‘Would you say it’s a good omen?’
‘I’ll say!’
‘Dad and I keep waiting for our luck to change. Well, some good things happen, but most of all I’d like Dad to keep his café. No, most most of all I’d like my mum and dad to get back together, but there’s no chance of that. I wish there wasn’t such a thing as divorce. Why can’t people stay together and be happy?’
‘Well, people change,’ said Susan. ‘Like friends. My parents are divorced.’
‘Are they? So do you live with your mum or your dad?’
‘Both. No, they’re married to each other now, my mum and dad, but they used to be married to different people. I’ve got all these stepbrothers and stepsisters. My family’s pretty complicated.’
‘But suppose your mum and dad did split up. Who would you live with then?’
Susan thought about it. I could see her brain trying to puzzle it out, as if it was a complicated sum. She frowned. ‘I don’t know! It must be so difficult for you, Floss.’
‘I got used to having two homes, but now my mum’s house is let out to strangers and my dad’s café is going to be taken over so I haven’t got any real home. Dad and I have this joke about living in a cardboard box like street people. I used to sit in a cardboard box when I was little and pretend it was my Wendy house. It was my best ever game for ages. I used to cram a cushion into the box and a little plastic cooking stove and my dolls’ teaset and all my favourite teddies.’ I saw Susan was counting again and I caught hold of her fingers. ‘Don’t count my words, it makes me feel weird.’
‘OK, I won’t. Sorry. Tell me more about the cardboard box house.’
‘In my mind it had a proper red roof with a chimney, and honeysuckle grew up the walls. I tried crayoning it on the box but it just looked like scribble. There was a blue front door with a proper knocker. If Dad was playing with me I’d make him pretend to knock on this imaginary knocker when he came calling. He was too big to get in the box with me – the walls would have collapsed – so he always said he’d like to sit in the garden on a deckchair. I’d get this stripy towel and put it just beside the box and he’d lie on it. I’d make him a cup of tea. Not really: I’d just put some water in my plastic teacup, and I’d colour it a bit with brown smarties. It probably tasted disgusting but he always drank it right up, his little finger sticking up in the air to make me laugh. I loved playing house with my dad.’
‘I can see why you’d want to stay with him now. My dad didn’t ever play with me like that, not in a fun way. He played cards and taught me chess and read to me, but he didn’t ever muck about. I played by myself mostly. I didn’t make things up like you, my mind doesn’t seem to do that, but I did play with cardboard boxes, little ones. I made a row of shoebox houses in my bedroom once, and then I started making whole streets with boxes of bricks, and lots of books too – they make very good buildings.’
‘Show me,’ I said, thrusting an armful of library books at her.
We sat cross-legged on the library floor while Susan built me a book house. I copied her, and then started making an elaborate tall block of flats. We turned our fingers into people and made them walk in between the houses and climb all the stairs to the high rooftop of the flats. Then the library door opened suddenly and we both got such a fright that we jumped, and the book block of flats juddered and fell to the ground with a great clatter and crash.
Miss Van Dyke stood glaring at us. Miss Van Dyke, the deputy head and the scariest strictest old bat teacher in the entire school!
‘What on earth are you doing, you two girls! This is a library, not a nursery playroom. What a way to treat books! Why aren’t you in your classroom? First lesson started twenty minutes ago! Now put those books back this minute – carefully! – and then come with me. You’re in Mrs Horsefield’s class, aren’t you?’
We nodded, too scared to say a word. Miss Van Dyke marched us briskly along the corridors and then prodded us into our classroom as if we were cattle. Everyone looked up at us, mouths open. Rhiannon’s eyes glittered triumphantly. I peeped shame-faced at Mrs Horsefield. She had given me a gentle warning and I’d let her down horribly.
‘These are your pupils, I believe, Mrs Horsefield,’ said Miss Van Dyke. ‘I discovered them in the library building houses with the books, if you please! I wonder why you didn’t send someone to look for them. They’ve been missing from your lesson for nearly half an hour!’
Oh no, now I’d got Mrs Horsefield into trouble too. Maybe we’d all have to stand outside Miss Van Dyke’s office in disgrace, with our hands on our heads, Susan, Mrs Horsefield and me.
But Mrs Horsefield was smiling calmly. ‘I knew where the girls were, Miss Van Dyke. They were taking part in my special bonding project.’
Miss Van Dyke frowned. ‘There’s nothing about bonding projects in the national curriculum for Key Stage Two.’
‘I know that, Miss Van Dyke, but sometimes one simply has to use one’s initiative to improve classroom dynamics.’
I didn’t have a clue what Mrs Horsefield meant. Maybe Miss Van Dyke didn’t either. She glared at Susan and me.
‘Why didn’t you explain, you silly girls?’ she said. She marched off, stamp stamp stamp, as if she wished we were bugs she could squash with her sensible shoes.
Susan and I stared in awe at Mrs Horsefield. She raised her eyebrows at us and made shooing gestures with her hands, so we scurried to our seats.
‘What are you playing at, Smelly Chip?’ Rhiannon hissed.
I ignored her. She poked me hard with her bony elbow. I shuffled to the edge of my seat, as far away from her as possible. Susan turned round and gave me a sympathetic grin. I grinned back. Rhiannon could poke a hole right through me and I wouldn’t care, just so long as Susan stayed my friend.
15
MUM RANG EARLY the next morning. I sat cross-legged stroking Lucky while she told me that:
She had a lovely tan already.
The shops in the Victoria Arcade were incredible.
They’d been to a concert at the opera house.
They’d walked over the Harbour Bridge.
They’d seen koalas and kangaroos (but only in Sydney Zoo).
Steve was working wonders at the new branch and getting a great team together.
Tiger had taken his first staggering steps and had learned to say ‘G’day.’
‘So much has happened, Floss!’ said Mum. ‘So, darling, what about you? What’s your news?’
I took a deep breath. I didn’t quite know where to start.
‘Are you all right, Floss? Oh God, what is it? Is Dad looking after you OK?’
Dad was looking at me anxiously as she spoke. I gave him a big smile and a thumbs-up.
‘Dad’s looking after me splendidly, Mum,’ I said.
‘Then what is it? How’s everything at school? Are you up to speed with all your lessons? Is Rhiannon still being friendly?’
‘Everything’s fine at school. Mrs Horsefield’s being especially nice. Rhiannon’s being especially nasty, but I don’t care because Susan and I are best friends now. She’s coming over to play on Saturday.’
‘How will your dad look after you both when he’s got the café to run? How is the café? Are you getting any more customers?’
I thought hard. I didn’t want to lie to Mum but I didn’t want to tell her the whole truth either. ‘Dad’s coping,’ I said. ‘And he’s expecting lots more customers soon.’
‘That’ll be the day,’ Mum said unkindly. ‘Oh well, Flossie, take care, my little love. I’ll ring you next week, OK?’
I covered the phone with my hand and mouthed at Dad, �
�How can Mum ring next week? We won’t be here!’
Dad took the phone from me. ‘Hi, Sal. I’m glad everything’s working out for you. Now listen, I’m making a few changes at the café. We’re going to have a different phone number. I’ll let you know. What? Oh, just general changes, keeping up with the times, aiming at different customers. Yeah yeah. Yes, of course Floss wears clean socks every day – and yes, she washes her hair. What hairdresser? I think she looks cute all curly. Listen, Sal, we’ve got to go now, she’ll be late for school. Bye now.’
He put the phone down and mopped his brow. ‘Phew!’ he said, flopping back in his chair as if someone had let all the air out of him. I came and climbed on his lap. He went ‘Ph-e-e-e-e-w’ again, acting it out, while I giggled.
‘I am so bad,’ said Dad. ‘I should tell your mum exactly what’s happening. But if I do she’ll insist you join her in Australia. Of course I should insist that’s what you do. In fact I am insisting. We’ll phone your mum back and come clean and tell her.’
‘No no no no no! Insist all you like, Dad, but I’m staying, OK?’ I looked at the clock. ‘Though I’d better be off right this minute or I’ll be late for school. Mrs Horsefield was so kind to Susan and me yesterday and I don’t want to let her down.’
Dad let me slide off his lap but he kept hold of me by the shoulders. ‘What’s all this about Rhiannon being nasty to you?’
I shrugged my shoulders under Dad’s hands. ‘Oh, she’s just being a bit mean,’ I said.
Understatement of the Century!
Examples of Rhiannon’s Extremely Unkind, Unfair and Mean Behaviour (in just one day!):
She sat at the extreme edge of her seat and held her nose whenever I moved.
She called me Smelly Chip over and over again, and got half the class calling me that too.
She called my dad Smelly Belly Chip.
She told everyone my mum’s walked out on me for ever.
She said I begged her mum to buy me new clothes when we went to Green Glades and said I didn’t even say thank you when she spent a fortune on me.
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