by Gwyneth Rees
‘Mum will take you to get a bra if you want,’ I said. ‘You should ask her.’
‘I don’t need her help.’
‘OK.’ But for once I didn’t believe her tough act and I decided that when I got home I’d have a quiet word with Mum about taking Sadie bra shopping.
*
After school Sadie and Anne-Marie were both waiting for me at the gate. That was a first! Then I remembered that Anne-Marie wanted us to go home with her.
Normally I’d have been pleased, but today I felt so achy and tired that I really didn’t feel like it. But I didn’t want to let Sadie go on her own so I sent Mum a text to let her know we’d be a bit late as we set off for Anne-Marie’s to see her baby rabbits.
On the way Anne-Marie chatted away as usual but Sadie was unusually quiet. I just hoped she didn’t do or say anything too outrageous when we got there.
Anne-Marie’s mum greeted us with a smile, and she was clearly interested to meet Sadie when Anne-Marie introduced her as my cousin.
Then Anne-Marie led us out the back door on to the large covered patio where all the animals are housed in their various hutches and cages. I was looking at Sadie’s face as Anne-Marie began to give her a tour. There were two hutches with rabbits inside (including some totally adorable baby ones), a few cages with hamsters and mice, an enclosure with guinea pigs and gerbils and one with some little tortoises.
Sadie was soon having a good look at all of them, her face solemn. As I stroked one of the rabbits I watched her closely. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong.
‘It’s like a pet shop,’ she murmured – which only made me worry more, since I know she hates pet shops almost as much as she hates zoos. She looked at Anne-Marie in something like amazement. ‘I can’t believe how many animals you’re keeping here.’
‘Mum calls it my petting zoo,’ Anne-Marie said with a grin.
Sadie flinched. ‘I can see why.’
I tensed, half expecting an argument to kick off, but to my amazement it didn’t happen. Instead Sadie thanked Anne-Marie for showing her round and started to make for the small gate at the side of the house. ‘Can we go out this way or is it locked?’
‘Oh, it’s never locked. You don’t have to go right now, do you? Mum won’t mind if you stay a bit longer.’
‘I’ve seen all I want to see, thanks,’ Sadie said firmly. ‘Come on, Poppy.’ And she was already opening the gate and glaring at me to follow her.
Chapter Sixteen
‘How are you feeling, Poppy?’ Mum asked the next morning as I came into the kitchen, where she and Sadie were already having breakfast. ‘Do you want to take some painkillers with you to school?’ Just as I’d predicted, she had been making a huge fuss of me. She’d even got a bit teary when I told her my big news. She’d run me a bath after dinner, then sent me to bed with a hot-water bottle and a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
‘I think I’ll be OK, Mum,’ I said.
‘Any more bleeding?’
‘Just a tiny bit last night. I thought there’d be more.’
‘I expect they’ll get heavier and more regular with time.’
‘Excuse me … some of us are trying to eat our breakfast here,’ Sadie piped up, sounding slightly revolted. Sadie was getting less and less sympathetic the more Mum doted on me, I’d noticed.
Mum looked across at her sharply, and Sadie must have quickly remembered that she was meant to be sucking up, at least in front of Mum. ‘Sorry … it’s just that it’s not an illness, you know!’
Sadie’s mood had been getting progressively worse ever since we’d left Anne-Marie’s the day before. On the way home I’d asked her what she’d thought of Anne-Marie’s pets and she’d responded by glaring at me and saying that the sight of all those enclosures made her feel sick.
‘So why did you say you wanted to see them if you knew it would upset you?’ I’d asked impatiently.
But she had told me gruffly that it was none of my business.
Just as I was finishing my cereal the post arrived, and with it a letter for Sadie.
‘It’s from my dad,’ she said a little shakily when Mum gave it to her. She didn’t open it in front of us but immediately took it upstairs.
‘Mum, can Sadie go and visit her dad in prison if she wants to?’ I asked as I sat finishing my toast. It was something I’d been thinking about quite a lot. I couldn’t even imagine how I’d feel if my mum or dad got sent to prison. I mean, no matter what they’d done, you’d still want to see them again, wouldn’t you? Unless they’d done something really evil.
Mum was nodding. ‘Of course she can.’
‘So when did she last go?’
‘She hasn’t been to see him at all yet.’
I frowned. ‘Why not?’
‘I don’t know. She’s angry with him, I expect. Hasn’t she said anything about it to you?’
I shook my head. ‘She doesn’t talk about him.’
As I stood up, Mum said, ‘Well, be sensitive if she brings it up. She may not have forgiven him yet but he’s still her father.’
I nodded, getting myself ready for school before knocking on Sadie’s bedroom door. ‘It’s eight thirty. Are you coming?’
The door was flung open and she stood there in her uniform looking like she’d been crying. Her reddish-brown bob was a lot less sleek and shiny than it usually is and her blue eyes were watery.
‘Are you OK?’ I asked.
‘I’m fine,’ she snapped. ‘Let’s go.’
We walked along our road in silence, with Sadie seeming moodier than ever. Finally I couldn’t stand it any more.
‘So is your dad OK?’ I asked her.
She looked at me like I was stupid. ‘He’s locked up in a prison cell. Of course he’s not OK.’
I wasn’t sure what to say to that so I just nodded dumbly.
After a bit she added, ‘He’s never been good in confined spaces. The idea of being shut up in prison really frightened him. He got stuck in a lift once and he had a massive panic attack.’
‘Oh dear,’ I murmured, though inside my head I could also hear Dad’s voice saying: ‘Well, he should have thought of that before he stole all that money, shouldn’t he?’
‘I don’t suppose his cell … room … whatever they call it … is that small,’ I said in an awkward attempt to comfort her a little. ‘I mean, it’s got to be a lot bigger than a lift in any case, cos it’s got to have a bed in it and … well … Is it just him in his cell or is he sharing it with somebody else?’
‘I don’t know!’ she snapped. ‘He doesn’t tell me anything about what it’s like there! He just goes on about how sorry he is and how much he wants me to go and see him. And he asks me loads of questions as if he thinks that’s going to make me write back.’
‘Haven’t you, then?’ I asked her in surprise. ‘Written back, I mean.’
‘No.’
‘Because you’re too angry with him?’ I asked hesitantly.
‘I’m angry that he thinks he can leave me like that and still get to know what I’m doing every day. I just don’t think he has any right, do you?’ She paused. ‘You know, every time he writes he tells me how the family visiting room isn’t scary or anything, and how there’s nothing to be afraid of.’ She sniffed. ‘As if that’s the reason I don’t go and see him – because I’m scared!’
‘Sadie, I know you’ve every right to be angry with him, but –’
‘Well, wouldn’t you be angry if your dad ditched you like some piece of old rubbish?’
‘Sadie, your dad didn’t want to leave you!’ I protested. ‘He didn’t get sent to prison on purpose!’
‘He must have known he might get caught!’ she snapped. ‘You know he wrote that he only did it for me – so that he could have more money and give me a better life. Who does he think he’s kidding? I’ll never forgive him for leaving me – for forcing me to go and live with Linda. He’s ruined my life! That’s what he’s done! How could he have been so stupid?’
>
I frowned, realising that she was actually confiding in me more than she ever had before. I was amazed by how much warmer towards her that made me feel.
‘But if you hated Linda so much, why didn’t you just tell your social worker you didn’t want to stay with her?’ I asked her softly. ‘They’d have found you some other place to go, wouldn’t they?’
‘I didn’t hate her then! OK, so she could be a bit of a pain, but at least it was better than going to live with people I didn’t even know! Then I found out what she was really like … I’m telling you, she’s the one who should be put in prison – not my dad!’
‘Why? What did she do?’ I asked.
‘She had all this really gross stuff she’d inherited from her rich old aunt. I nearly threw up the day I first saw it and I told her I wasn’t living in the same house as a load of murdered animals, but she just laughed at me and said I was being melodramatic.’
‘Sadie, slow down! What are you talking about?’ Now I was really confused.
‘Her great-aunt’s husband was into hunting and she’d inherited all his stuff. She had all these old photos of him with his gun, standing beside some poor animal he’d just killed. It was disgusting. And she had loads of her aunt’s old fur coats and jackets and a handbag made of crocodile skin and even an old bearskin rug. The most valuable thing was an antique chess set carved from ivory. Linda said she was going to sell that and I said she should donate the money to this sanctuary for orphaned baby elephants that I’d found for her on the internet, but she said she was keeping the money. Then she said she was going to wear the coats because real fur is back in fashion. I tried to get her to change her mind but she wouldn’t listen, so I told Alison and she said the only decent thing to do was to cremate the whole lot on a bonfire. I knew Linda was going out straight from work that Friday, so I arranged to meet Alison and the others after school. I took them back to the house and we cleared out everything she was storing in the spare room and threw it in a pile in the garden. Linda got back before we could set fire to it all though.’
I was stunned. ‘Wow,’ murmured. ‘No wonder she kicked you out.’
Sadie glared at me. ‘Whose side are you on?’
‘Mine and Mum’s! ‘You threatened to do the same thing to us, remember!’
‘Oh yeah,’ she admitted, with a sudden grin. ‘So I did. Only it turns out you don’t have any fur coats or bearskin rugs or ivory chessboards. Luckily for you …’
I gaped at her as she put her earbuds in and walked the rest of the way to school without speaking to me. Though she did stay close enough to grab half of the space under my umbrella when it started to rain.
Chapter Seventeen
It seemed to rain more or less non-stop for the rest of the week.
At morning breaktime on Friday it was still wet so I headed straight for the canteen. I was really looking forward to going out with Dad and Kristen that evening and I had the Just William book wrapped up in posh paper inside my schoolbag. (Don’t ask me how long I searched for the perfect wrapping paper because I’m not going to tell you!)
I was feeling happier than I had in a while. With the threat to our house no longer present, all I needed to do was prove that Sadie’s accusation about Mum was a lie and there would be nothing left for Sadie to blackmail me with.
The only thing spoiling my happiness (other than the rubbish weather) was that our visit to Amy in her new home the following day had just been postponed because Amy had chickenpox.
I told Anne-Marie about it as I caught up with her outside the canteen. ‘You know, I feel really bad that Amy has chickenpox and we aren’t there to look after her,’ I said gloomily.
‘Her new mum and dad will look after her,’ Anne-Marie said (which was exactly what Mum had said as well).
‘I guess,’ I grunted, though I still wasn’t convinced that anybody could do as good a job as Mum and me at cheering up a sick preschooler.
‘So when will you get to see her?’
‘Next Saturday, hopefully, if she’s better. Look, there’s a table … let’s grab it.’
There was a really big queue for the tuck shop and the room was full of people escaping the rain.
‘So how’s it going with Sadie?’ Anne-Marie asked as we sat down.
‘OK, I suppose. It’s better, but she’s different every time I talk to her. And Mum still seems to be on her side all the time.’ Lenny was coming round with Sadie’s social worker at four o’clock that afternoon, and at first I’d been afraid Mum would want me to be there and that I wouldn’t be allowed to go out with Kristen after school. But in fact Mum was so cool about it that I started to wonder if she’d arranged the social work visit today on purpose, grateful that I wouldn’t be there to put my foot in it.
‘Maybe it’ll get better the more you get to know her. Do you know where she gets her hair cut, by the way? I think it looks really cool.’ After I replied that I didn’t know, Anne-Marie pulled a magazine from her bag. ‘Look. I found this great quiz that you can use to work out your face shape. It gives you tips on the best way to put on make-up and your most flattering hairstyle and stuff.’
‘Let’s see.’ I have to admit I love doing these sorts of quizzes.
‘I’m heart shaped!’ she added with a smirk.
‘Trust you,’ I said. ‘OK, let’s do mine.’ I started to read the instructions. First you had to look through some diagrams and tick the ones you thought looked most like you. ‘This is a bit difficult if you don’t have a mirror,’ I complained.
‘Ta-da!’ Anne-Marie produced a small mirror from her bag and gave it to me. ‘Wait.’ She grabbed my hair and pulled it back off my face as if she was putting it in a ponytail. ‘Now look.’
‘What are you two doing?’ Sadie arrived at our table and sat down without being invited.
‘It’s just a quiz to work out your face shape,’ Anne-Marie said. ‘You can have a go after Poppy if you like.’ She’d been a lot more friendly towards Sadie ever since Sadie had shown such an interest in her animals, though I still had an uncomfortable feeling about that.
‘I’ve done one of those before,’ Sadie said, sounding a bit dismissive. ‘Anyway, you can see just by looking at your face what shape it is. Mine’s oval. Poppy’s going to be rectangular – or maybe even square.’
‘Shut up,’ I snapped at her. But by the end of the questionnaire, when I had scored ‘Mostly B’s’, I realised she was right.
‘Told you so,’ Sadie said with a smirk.
‘No way do I have a square face!’ I protested.
‘You know, you actually do,’ Anne-Marie added seriously. ‘Your jawline is definitely angular … isn’t it, Sadie?’
‘Definitely,’ Sadie said with a grin. She pointed to the diagram of the most obviously square face, which was far and away the least attractive of all the faces on the page. ‘I’d say that’s the closest.’
Anne-Marie tactfully flipped the page over. ‘Look at this, Poppy!’
There was a whole section on glasses.
‘Let me see!’ Sadie made a grab for the magazine. ‘So what type do they say go best on a square face?’
‘Oval or round,’ Anne-Marie said, grabbing it back.
‘There you go!’ Sadie sat back, looking at me triumphantly. ‘That explains why your glasses look so wrong on you, Poppy.’
‘It says here that rectangular glasses like yours are best suited to round or oval faces,’ Anne-Marie added gravely. ‘Too bad your mum won’t let you get new ones, Poppy.’
‘Hey, maybe you could alter your face shape instead,’ Sadie said.
‘Oh yes!’ Anne-Marie joined in. ‘My mum is always complaining that whenever she goes on a diet she loses loads of weight from her face before she loses it from anywhere else.’
‘Losing fat won’t help,’ Sadie said. ‘It’s her bone structure that’s the issue and there’s no changing that. Well … not without a chisel!’ She giggled.
To my horror I found myself feel
ing a bit wobbly inside, like I might be going to cry. I know this is going to sound pathetic but I’d honestly thought I had a pretty nice face up until that moment. Mum has always praised my high cheekbones and I’ve always been happy enough with how I look in photographs. Usually Mum comments on how photogenic I am. But I guess everyone must have just been keeping quiet about the squareness.
‘It doesn’t really matter about your glasses since you don’t need to wear them outside of class,’ Anne-Marie was saying in a consoling voice. I think she had just realised that I wasn’t finding this at all funny. ‘Let’s see what hairstyle you should have instead. Oh, look, Poppy! That’s just like yours already.’
‘Except her hair should be longer to divert attention away from her jawline,’ Sadie pointed out.
And at that point I had had enough. Anne-Marie started to say something else, but I was already standing up and glaring at both of them through alarmingly blurry vision that had nothing to do with my short-sightedness. ‘I’m off! I’ll leave you two to admire your perfectly shaped faces together, shall I?’
‘Poppy, don’t be daft –’ Anne-Marie began, but I was already turning my back on them and stalking off as the first tears began to fall. There was no way I was going to let them see how stupidly upset I was.
Maths was our next lesson that morning. Miss Benkowski had written some questions up on the whiteboard so I had to wear my glasses. I immediately felt self-conscious.
I soon noticed Julia and Katy, who sit at the next table, giving me amused looks. I felt myself flushing as I resisted the urge to take off my glasses before I’d even read the first question.
I turned round to look at Sadie, who was seated two rows behind. Her head was down and it seemed to me that she was avoiding catching my eye.
‘Poppy – unless you’ve got eyes in the back of your head, I’m not sure that’s such a good position from which to view the board,’ Miss Benkowski remarked lightly.
I turned back to face the front, self-consciously removing my glasses. Now I couldn’t read anything on the whiteboard but at least I wasn’t looking quite so hideous.