by Sue Limb
‘I love Fred!’ said Marie-Louise. ‘He is h’amusing!’
Suddenly Jess realised that there was only one person here who could rescue her from this potentially explosive situation. It was Professor Fred.
Chapter 32
Jess got up and ran across to Fred. He looked alarmed.
‘What is it?’ he said. ‘Has someone died?’
‘No, but unless we act fast, somebody’s gonna.’
‘What?’ Fred raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘Why ever did I leave my secret lair just now? I blame Stephen King. The bit I was reading was making me feel sick and I felt I needed a break.’
‘Listen!’ said Jess. ‘Jodie’s ordered me to think of a cunning plan and if I don’t come up with something before noon she’s going to bite my head off and spit it in the stream.’
‘Compared to what’s just happened in my book, a mild case of decapitation is really nothing to worry about,’ said Fred.
‘Shut up, Fred! This is serious! Jodie wants to get revenge on Flora and Gerard but I can’t cook up a plan that’s going to upset Flora, much as I hate her right now.’
‘Why do you hate her right now?’ asked Fred. ‘The world of female emotion is so fast moving.’
Whoops! Jess’s galloping mind screeched to a halt. Fred mustn’t know that she’d ever fancied Gerard herself, let alone held hands with him. That really would be humiliation.
‘Well, you know,’ she gabbled, ‘going off with this French loser instead of having fabulous laughs with me all weekend. He is such a moron.’
‘You’ve lost me,’ said Fred. ‘What’s the issue? In words of one syllable or preferably one letter.’
‘Jodie’s in a hissy fit about Flora and Gerard,’ said Jess. ‘Mostly because she fancies him herself. So she’s ordered me to think up a horrid trick to play on them. But I can’t do that, because Flora and I are supposed to be best mates. So I’m asking you to lay on something that will distract Jodie.’
‘To, er, lay on something?’ faltered Fred. ‘Karaoke? A flight in an air balloon? A champagne supper at the Ritz?’
‘Exactly,’ said Jess. ‘Preferably all three. Get it organised, Parsons, or I’ll think of a cunning plan to humiliate you.’
‘I am beyond humiliation,’ said Fred. He was getting out his mobile, though. ‘I am the lowest form of human life. I am totally without style or backbone. Nothing you could possibly do or say could upset me. Stones and grass envy me.’
He switched on his mobile and started to text at speed. Jess tried to take a peek, but Fred shrugged her off. Then he finished his message and pocketed the phone.
‘Who were you texting?’ demanded Jess, fascinated.
‘It’s a mystery,’ said Fred. ‘Now let’s get back to that fire and get some tucker lined up. All that violence has given me an appetite.’
They joined Marie-Louise at the campfire, and Edouard also appeared with another armful of logs.
‘Isn’t he a little treasure?’ said Fred.
‘Don’t talk about him behind his back under his nose like that,’ said Jess. She was beginning to feel protective towards Edouard. After all, he had rescued her several times that weekend. She smiled at Edouard and he smiled back.
‘Good! Wood!’ She grinned and gave him the thumbs up. ‘Thank you!’
‘Goodwood!’ said Edouard in a friendly way. ‘You are a pleasure!’ Wow! Communication was taking place. Well, nearly.
Marie-Louise produced a fabulous snack involving Danish pastries, French croissants and the infamous British treat, the Chelsea bun. They put the kettle on for hot chocolate. Then, suddenly, there was a blast of racing car noise from Fred’s pocket: Fred’s Formula One ringtone. He took out his mobile and checked the text message.
‘Who is it?’ said Jess. ‘Is it an answer to your SOS?’
Fred texted back a few words without answering her.
‘What’s happening?’ pleaded Jess.
‘I’ve called in the cavalry,’ said Fred. ‘You’ll soon find out.’
Jess was vastly intrigued, but was obliged to have a long conversation with Marie-Louise about different sorts of dogs, before, eventually, the kettle reached a shrieking boil just as Jodie reappeared.
‘Jess,’ she said, ‘Auntie Rose says your washing’s dry and if you want, you can go and iron it.’
‘Great!’ cried Jess. ‘Ironing! I so love it! Just the treat I was hoping for.’ She scrambled to her feet.
‘I hear the people who invented skiing holidays are going to market ironing holidays next,’ said Fred.
‘Fabulous! I’ll start saving up right now!’ said Jess. Despite her hatred of ironing, she was glad to have an excuse to escape from Jodie.
‘I’ll come with you,’ said Jodie, disastrously. ‘Hang on, I’ll just get my washing.’
She grabbed some clothes from the girls’ tent and joined Jess. As they turned to go, Jess gave Fred a parting glance. He was pulling his ‘Jodie angry’ face, based on bulging eyes and a sulky, pouting lower lip. Jess almost cracked up, but just managed to restrain herself.
‘Right,’ said Jodie, as they walked to the farmhouse, ‘so what’s the plan?’
‘It’s going to be a surprise,’ said Jess.
‘Tell me!’ ordered Jodie. ‘Because I’ve thought of some ace ideas anyway. We could find some frogspawn and fill their sleeping bags with it. Or we could follow them next time they sneak off together for a snog. We could hide in the bushes and make slurping and groaning noises.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Jess, secretly appalled at the poverty of Jodie’s imagination – though Jess herself had thought of precisely zilch. ‘It’s all arranged. You don’t have to do a thing.’
‘Yeah, but what exactly is going to happen?’ said Jodie, nagging away at Jess’s side. ‘It’s got to be good, and it’s got to be, like, totally devastatingly humiliating. I want Flora on toast, OK? So let’s have the gory details, right now!’
Jess’s mind went into overdrive. What she had hoped would be a relaxing mini-break with the ironing board was going to turn into an interrogation by the Gestapo.
Chapter 33
‘Look, it’s got to be a surprise, right?’ Jess was desperately playing for time. Why, oh why had she told Jodie that she’d already thought of a devastating trick to play on Flora and Gerard? Bizarrely, it was to try and protect Flora – well, everybody – from Jodie’s ferocious temper, which had already nearly caused an international incident.
Ironical, thought Jess. I’ve got even more reason to be hacked off with Flora than Jodie has. After all, Gerard’s actually hit on me, and I’m pretty sure he’s never moved in on Jodie, or we’d all know about it by now.
‘It’s got to be a surprise to them,’ said Jodie. ‘It doesn’t have to be a surprise to me.’
‘Yeah, but we decided it would be better if it was a surprise to you, too,’ said Jess desperately.
‘Who’s we?’ demanded Jodie.
‘Well, Fred, of course,’ said Jess as they arrived at the house. ‘He is a genius after all.’
They went indoors. Jodie’s auntie was sitting at the kitchen table, lining up rows and rows of odd socks. Betsy stirred in her basket, barked, grinned and wagged her tail.
‘I’m running a dating agency for single socks,’ said Auntie Rose. ‘It’s so silly … but I can’t bear to throw the odd ones away. I feel sort of sad.’ She sighed. Clearly she was a sentimental old dreamer.
‘We do that at home, too,’ said Jess. ‘Some socks just want independence and a career.’
‘Is it OK if I do some laundry?’ asked Jodie.
‘Of course, yes, yes,’ said Auntie Rose. ‘Help yourself.’ She got up and drifted towards the window. ‘It’s such a lovely day …’
Jodie and Jess went through the kitchen to the utility room. Jodie closed the door behind them, and once they’d got the washing machine going there was enough noise to cover their conversation.
‘So tell me,’ said Jodie eagerly, as
Jess began to iron her jeans, ‘What’s gonna happen? I can’t wait!’
‘Guess,’ said Jess, desperate for suggestions even at this late stage.
‘Does it involve cowpats?’ asked Jodie.
‘Possibly,’ said Jess. ‘As the final finishing touch.’
‘Does it involve mud?’ asked Jodie.
‘Certainly,’ said Jess, ironing the legs of her jeans at lightning speed so she could escape from Jodie as soon as possible.
‘Does it involve pain?’ asked Jodie.
‘You bet,’ said Jess. ‘Five-star, 100% top-notch, luxury pain.’
‘And tears, and blood?’ asked Jodie eagerly. What a monster she was, when roused.
‘I can’t actually guarantee tears and blood,’ said Jess. ‘But you never know your luck.’
‘What else? Give me a clue,’ said Jodie, as if this was some kind of Victorian parlour game.
‘What else?’ Jess’s mind drifted bizarrely, randomly through the universe. ‘Black olives,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Mad dogs. A tablespoon of chilli powder. Razor blades. A dead rat dipped in mayo. A dash of lemon juice.’
‘Ha ha!’ Jodie cracked up. ‘Jess, you are so, like, weird! It’s great that you’ve split up with Flora now. Do you want to come round my house next weekend? We can go bowling and have loads of laughs.’
Jess endured a horrid shiver of disgust at the thought of physical exercise, with Jodie, of all people. Jodie was OK, she was fine, she could be fun when not in a strop, but as best mate? Never.
For a moment a short video of Flora flashed through Jess’s brain. Beautiful, elegant, clever, giggly Flora. Sensitive, kind Flora. Usually. The video switched into devilish mode and played a little section in which Gerard and Flora strolled down the field, arms wrapped round each other. And then Flora turned on Jess and gave her a mouthful of venom because Jess dared to criticise her.
‘Bowling? … Er, next weekend’s going to be a bit tricky, Jode,’ said Jess. ‘Because the Frenchies will still be here, won’t they? When are they going home?’
‘Oh yeah, Sunday,’ said Jodie. ‘Well, maybe the weekend after. Why don’t you come round my place? You could stay if you like. Our spare room has got its own TV.’
Panic flashed through Jess. She had to escape from Jodie’s menacing invites. She so didn’t want to replace Flora with Jodie, even if Flora was out of order at the moment.
‘Oh, sorry,’ she said. ‘My dad’s coming up that weekend and I hardly ever see him, so I’ll have to stay at home.’
‘Shame,’ said Jodie. ‘We could have celebrated the end of the French invasion. How am I going to get through another whole week? I’m not going to speak a word to Gerard. He can talk to my stinking mum. Frankly, I can’t wait to see him off.’
‘Did he ever, you know …’ Jess hesitated. ‘Before he got with Flora … Did he ever hit on you?’
Jodie hesitated. She frowned. Her lower lip stuck out in the pout so recently parodied by Fred.
‘Well, not as such,’ she admitted. ‘Not actually – you know. He did give me some looks, though. And when I sent my photo he wrote that I was beautiful.’
Another digitally-enhanced one, then, thought Jess, swiftly ironing her T-shirt. ‘Did he ever, like, hold your hand or anything?’
‘Well.’ Jodie pursed her lips thoughtfully. ‘When he arrived he kissed me on both cheeks. And every night at bedtime he kisses me on both cheeks.’
‘That doesn’t necessarily mean anything,’ said Jess. ‘The French kiss each other all the time. Their president even tried to kiss our prime minister last time he visited. I saw it on the news.’
‘Yeah, yeah, I know,’ said Jodie. ‘It’s not that I thought Gerard was like mine or anything. I mean, he’s not my boyfriend. OK, that’s cool. But he is supposed to be my French exchange partner, and since Flora grabbed him he hasn’t said a single word to me.’
‘So you’re not jealous, then?’ asked Jess.
‘Are you kidding? Of course I’m jealous,’ said Jodie.‘I sometimes really hate Flora. I know you and she were best mates, but she really gets up my nose sometimes.’
‘I never said we weren’t best mates any more,’ said Jess. ‘I just think she’s out of order right now.’
‘Well, yeah, whatever,’ said Jodie. ‘She deserves what’s coming to her.’
‘Yeah,’ said Jess hurriedly, ‘Whatever. I think I’ve finished now. This fleece doesn’t need ironing.’ She unplugged the iron, grabbed her clean clothes and headed for the door.
‘When’s it gonna happen?’ persisted Jodie, following hard on Jess’s heels like a snappy little dog chasing a postman.
‘Wait and see!’ said Jess with a hint of playful mischief, and slipped through the kitchen. Auntie Rose was staring out of the window.
‘Oh, the clouds,’ she sighed. ‘Look, girls!’
Jodie and Jess glanced obediently out of the window.
‘Fabulous,’ said Jess. ‘I’ve never seen clouds like them.’
‘I’m thinking of taking a photography course,’ said Auntie Rose. ‘I want to specialise in skies. I’m a Libran, you know – it’s an air sign.’
‘Air head, more like,’ whispered Jodie as they escaped into the outdoors.
‘I think your auntie is a sweetheart,’ said Jess, eager to turn the conversation away from Flora and Gerard and the terrible revenge that Jess was going to inflict on them, just as soon as she managed to think of it. ‘I’m sorry she’s got that health problem. What is it, exactly?’
‘Oh, nothing,’ said Jodie. ‘I just made that up because I was so mad.’
As they rounded the hawthorn hedge, a strange sight met their eyes: a whole crowd of people round the fire! Well, not a whole crowd, really. Flora and Gerard had come back and were sitting all cuddled up, which was, of course, nauseating. However, this was no time for nausea. Because there were new arrivals.
It was a couple of boys from school – guys Jess and Jodie had always rated, although they didn’t know them well. One was Mackenzie. He was short, dark and talkative. He appeared to be trying to wow Marie-Louise with a stream of something resembling French.
It was his mate who was the really big surprise, however: Ben Jones, captain of the school football team. Ben had been absent from school for ages because he’d had acute appendicitis, and it had taken weeks for him to recover. But now he looked in tip-top shape.
He was lounging by the fire and poking it lazily with a stick. Somehow, he had changed since Jess had last seen him. Maybe it was to do with his hair, which now seemed to have Californian blond highlights. Maybe it was something to do with his legs, which seemed to be much longer than before.
If this is what appendicitis does to people, thought Jess, it should be compulsory. Forget the magic potions – go for the pain in the guts.
‘Hi, guys!’ called Jodie, swooping down towards them like a ravening wolf approaching a couple of tasty lambs. ‘Welcome to my auntie’s field!’
‘It’s, like, totally amazing!’ said Mackenzie. ‘If I’d known you were a major landowner, Jode, I’d have hit on you years ago. But hey – I hope it’s not too late? Can we get engaged right now?’
Everybody laughed, most of all Jodie. Then she turned to where Ben Jones was lounging in such picturesque style.
‘Hey, Ben!’ she said. ‘Are you better and everything? We’ve really missed you. Will you show us your scar?’
Ben Jones gave her the laziest, most gorgeous smile and looked slightly embarrassed. Wow! All thoughts of Gerard would soon have vanished from Jodie’s head.
‘Er … well, no, cos it’s totally gross,’ said Ben. He was never one for the verbals. Mackenzie never stopped jabbering, but Ben could hardly ever be bothered to say a word, so in a way Mackenzie was usually talking for two. But right now they were both grinning at Jodie in very powerful stereo.
Jess caught Fred’s eye. He raised his eyebrows slightly as if to say: So what do you think of my cunning plan? And Jess gave him a satisfi
ed little nod which meant: Not bad for starters. The arrival of Ben and Mackenzie had certainly put Jodie back into a good mood. It was a brilliant plan of Fred’s – presumably Ben and Mackenzie were under strict orders to flirt non-stop with Jodie. Now everyone could relax and let the weekend float gently on in a haze of barbecue smoke and bliss.
Or could they? Suddenly Jess felt a raindrop hit her head. The sun had gone in, and Auntie Rose’s fabulous clouds were about to dump on them, big time. There was a distant flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder.
‘Quick!’ shouted Jodie. ‘Everyone to the girls’ tent!’ It was the only tent big enough to accommodate everybody.
Hmm, thought Jess. This is going to be cosy.
Chapter 34
Everybody piled into the girls’ tent, and Jess felt a quick wave of embarrassment at the fact that her PJs were just lying there all crumpled on top of her bag. She grabbed them, stuffed them under her pillow, and sat on it. Marie-Louise tumbled in almost on top of her and the rest of the gang followed: Edouard, Flora and Gerard, then Jodie with Ben Jones and Mackenzie, and finally Fred.
‘Make room! Make room!’ yelled Fred. ‘Cyclone approaching! Hailstones the size of golf balls!!’ There was hardly any room for Fred. He had to stand right by the door. ‘Shove up!’ he said. ‘My backside is still outdoors! It’s going to be struck by lightning!’
‘You guys stand up!’ said Jodie to Jess, Marie-Louise and Edouard. ‘There’ll be more room if everybody stands up. This tent wasn’t designed for nine.’
Jess, Marie-Louise and Edouard struggled to their feet. In the course of the struggle, Jess spent a dire couple of seconds with her face buried in Marie-Louise’s tummy, and immediately afterwards received a painful stab in the ribs from Edouard’s elbow.
WORROWORROWORROWORRO! Another thunderclap went hurtling across the sky. Flora screamed and clung on to Gerard. Jodie screamed and clung on to Ben Jones. Less excitingly, Marie-Louise screamed and clung on to Jess. Rain hammered on the roof of the tent. This was not the delightful fairylike touch of a gentle moonlit shower, which can sound so delicious on the tent roof as you lie in your sleeping bag. No, this was weather war.