Fat Larry specialized in traffic-light colours and had a red suit, a yellow suit and an emerald green.
' I ' m going for emerald,' Biscuits boasted.
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'Oh, like you think you'll make me green with envy?' I said. 'OK, I'll go for a red Fat Larry suit and you'll be red with rage.'
'Look, stop being daft. You know I'm going to be Fat Larry. I look like him.'
'I'll look like him too.'
'But you don't have a sparkly suit.'
'I will have. My mum's going to
make one.'
'Well, she'll have to get a move on.
'Well, she 11 have to get a move on.
Didn't you listen? We're presenting the projects the week after next, Mrs Watson said. And there's a prize for the best one.'
'That's ages away,' I said airily, but I started to panic inside. I'd have to watch Fat Larry videos every day and try very hard with my cooking.
I tore out of school to meet Grandad.
'Hello, Iced Gem. What are you in such a hurry for?' said Grandad, taking my hand.
'I want to watch Fat Larry and do some serious cooking before Mum comes to pick me up at your house, Grandad,' I said.
'Oh help!' said Grandad. 'Fat Larry watching is fine, but I'm not so sure about the serious cookery bit. Your dad phoned me today. I don't want you grating away any more fingers, OK?' He gently squeezed my plastered thumb.
'I've got to practise somehow, Grandad. Do you 146
think I could come round at the weekend and we could learn to cook together then?'
'I'm busy at the weekend, sweetheart,' said Grandad, with a strange smile on his face.
'Grandad, please!'
'No – can't, darling. I've got a special job.'
'Oh bum,' I said. 'I wish you didn't have your bogging job.'
'Language, language! It's quite a good job, sweetheart. Particularly this weekend special. Some old lady's hurt her leg on a visit to her daughter and she needs to be collected and taken down to her other daughter in London. She won't fly and she can't take the train because her leg needs to be propped up. She's decided to do the journey in comfort, so I'm picking her up in the Mercedes.'
I wondered why Grandad was rambling on about this old lady at such length.
'Guess where she lives, Gemma!' said Grandad, eyes gleaming. 'Eastern Scotland – about forty or fifty miles away from Alice's new place. So I thought what we could do is pop you in the car and take you on a little trip too. If we drive up Friday night then you could spend all Saturday with Alice. Would you like that?'
'Oh Grandad!' I said.
I leaped up and threw my arms round his neck, hugging him tight.
Thirteen
Iwas so excited I felt I was skimming the pavement, tap-dancing in thin air.
Then Mum stuck her oar in.
'Your grandad's gone soft in the head. You can't go all the way to Scotland and back in a weekend.
And this old lady won't want you in the car, Gemma, it's just ludicrous. And Karen will object strongly if you turn up on her doorstep. I know she thinks you're a bad influence on Alice, and you are.'
I felt like Mum had a real oar in her hand and was whacking me over the head with it. I came down to earth. It felt like she was hammering me through the floorboards, down and down and down until my chin was on the carpet.
Dad was dozing on the sofa as always.
But then he opened his eyes. He got up.
He went over to Mum. 'What's all this?'
She told him. 'Your dad's got no
right to start all this. He's got Gemma all worked up. Look at the state of her!'
148
'Please let me go, Mum. Grandad said it would be fine,' I sobbed.
'Never mind your grandad. I'm your mum and I say you're not going.'
Dad picked up his cup of coffee. He took a long sip. 'I think you should mind your grandad, Gemma,'
he said. 'I'm your dad and I say you are going!'
I stared at Dad. Mum stared at him too.
'What on earth are you on about? It's a crazy idea. Your dad's crazy'
'No he's not. He just can't stand Gemma being so miserable because she's missing young Alice. I don't get your objections. Dad knows what he's doing. He's the safest driver you could wish for. He'll make sure he's well rested. The car hire company will create if they find out about Gemma but if Dad's willing to take that risk I don't see why we should object. She can tuck herself away in a corner of the Merc easily enough. She might even prove good company for this old lady. And yes, we all know our Gemma isn't flavour of the month with snotty old Karen but I doubt she'll have the heart to turn her away if she arrives on the doorstep. Let the kids have one good day together. It can be like an early birthday for them both.'
Dad took a long gulp of coffee. He was probably dry. He wasn't used to saying so much all at one time.
Mum usually said lots and lots but now she 149
seemed struck dumb. I held my breath.
She looked at Dad. She looked at me. She shook her head. 'It's a mad idea. I have a horrible feeling it'll only end in tears.'
'Look at the kid. She's in tears now,' said Dad.
'We're going to let her go.'
Mum sighed. Then she shrugged. 'All right. I can't fight you both. Gemma can go.'
I shot straight up in the air again, so happy I was bouncing up to the ceiling. I sweet-talked Jack into letting me use his computer right that second, even though he was in the middle of searching for information for some boring old school project about our galaxy.
I thought momentarily about my school project but I suddenly didn't care too much. Maybe I'd let Biscuits be Fat Larry after all, seeing as he was fat, he was getting a sparkly suit and he could cook. I couldn't understand why I'd been making such a fuss.
I was only fussed about one thing now. Seeing Alice!
Hello, Flora. Please give the following Ultra Important message to Alice AS SOON AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE.
Dear Alice, I don't know if you've got anything planned for Saturday but if so, un plan it immediately because guess what guess what guess what!!!! My grandad's 150
driving me up to Scotland on Friday night and he's taking me round to your place on Saturday morning. Isn't that WONDERFUL!!! I can't WAIT. But don't tell your mum because she doesn't like me now.
Lots of love from your best friend ever, Gemma
I hoped the dozy Margarine Girl would nip round to Alice's sharpish but no such luck. I had to wait AGES for a reply. I kept plaguing and plaguing Jack, terrified he might absent-mindedly have deleted my message or mixed it up with his school project and sent it off to some far-flung corner of the galaxy.
But eventually Alice sent a message back.
Dear Gem,
That is great news! I can't wait to see you. Do you know what time you're coming? And when you're going? The thing is, I usually go to the shops with Mum in the morn-ings but don't worry I'll say I've got a headache or an earache or something, so I get to stay home. Although if I make too much fuss Mum might make me go to the doctor's. But don't worry, I'll sort something out. Flora will help, she always has good ideas.
Love, Alice
I got a bit bothered by the Flora bit. Why on earth did Alice want to bring her into it? I was the one who 151
had good ideas. And bad ideas. I'm famous for it.
I had another brilliant idea. Dad had said it would be like an early birthday for both of us, so what we needed was a birthday cake. Then we could blow out our candles together and make our very special best friends for ever birthday wish. Then we were safe for another whole year.
There was a slight problem, however. I didn't know how to make a birthday cake.
I knew a boy who did.
'Hello, Biscuits,' I said the next day at school.
Biscuits blinked back at me nervously.
'What's up?' he said.
'Nothing's up,' I said.
'Then why are you
grinning at me
like that?'
Well, we re mates, aren't we?'
'Gemma, have you gone into a time warp? We were mates once upon a time. Then all the you-and-Alice business happened and you didn't want to be mates any more. You wanted us to be deadly enemies. You even wanted to beat me up, which was pretty scary, seeing as I'm a Class One Coward. And now we have this uneasy truce because we've been working on our Fat Larry project and—'
'Talking of Fat Larry, Biscuits, you know that yummy chocolate cake you made? That would make an excellent birthday cake.'
152
Biscuits sucked his teeth. 'Yeah,' he said thoughtfully.
'Biscuits, do you think you could give me the recipe?'
'Sure,' he said. 'I know it off by heart. OK, here's what you do.'
And then he told me. It was like he was talking another language altogether.
'Hang on,' I said, trying to scribble it down. 'If you've got butter and sugar how do you "cream"
them? Do you pour cream on top?'
Biscuits laughed like I was deliberately joking.
Then he saw my face. 'Haven't you ever made any kind of cake, Gemma?'
'Well. Not exactly. Not a cake sort of cake.'
When we were very little kids Alice and I had mixed up bowls of earth and decorated them with buttercups and daisies and called them cakes but they weren't the edible kind.
I had a sudden foreboding that even if I used real ingredients my cake still might not be entirely edible.
'Creaming is easy-peasy' Biscuits said gently.
'Especially if your mum's got a good food mixer.'
'Mum won't let me loose in her kitchen. I don't think she's got a mixer anyway. She gets my birthday cakes from Marks and Spencer. I'll be making this cake at Grandad's. I don't think he's got a mixer either.'
153
'Has he got cake tins? And a sieve? And an icing bag to write a message?'
'No. And no. And no again,' I said, sighing.
'Well, come back to my house after school. You can borrow all my mum's stuff. And I'll show you how to make the cake,' said Biscuits.
His face was shining with good will and generos-ity. I'd been so horrible to him for weeks. I'd even ambushed him in the toilets and tried to beat him up. I'd deliberately insulted him. I'd done my best to stop him impersonating his hero.
He hadn't been mean back once. Biscuits was a truly big-hearted boy.
My own heart seemed to have whittled down to a weeny speck of grit. I could feel it scratch scratch scratching in my chest.
'You're very kind, Biscuits,' I said, in a very small voice.
Biscuits grinned. 'Oh, I don't know. It's kind of fun making you feel guilty' he said.
I pretended to bop
him on the head. He
pretended to pull my
hair. We shadow-sparred
for a minute, elaborating
on the theme, miming kick
boxing and kung fu, until we
were both helpless with laughter.
154
Mrs Watson came into the classroom and found us collapsed in a heap, feebly poking each other with our little fingers.
'Are you two fighting?' she said uncertainly.
'This is a deadly dual of finger prodding, Mrs Watson,' I said. 'Only it's hard to prod Biscuits properly because he's so fa— so big and strong and muscly'
'Quite,' said Mrs Watson. 'Well, delightful though it is to see you two united in your unusual combat, I rather think you're here to learn. Jump up, both of you, and go to your desks, otherwise I shall start prodding you – and I'll use my ruler!'
When Grandad came to meet me after school I asked if I could go home with Biscuits to learn cake-making.
'You can come too,' Biscuits said to Grandad.
'It's very kind of you, lad, but you don't want me tagging along too,' said Grandad.
'Oh yes we do!' I said. 'You can learn cake-making too, Grandad. Biscuits makes wonderful cakes. I bet Fat Larry himself couldn't make better.'
'Biscuits looks a dead ringer for your Fat Larry pal too,' said Grandad. 'Why on earth isn't he acting the part for this school project of yours?'
There was a little pause. I took a deep breath.
'Yeah, Grandad. You've got a good point. OK, Biscuits. You be Fat Larry when we do the presentation.'
155
Biscuits nibbled at his lip ruminatively. 'I think we should both be Fat Larry somehow. That would be fairer,' he said. He persuaded Grandad to come back to his place too.
'Well, if you're sure your mum won't mind,' said Grandad. 'And talking of mums, Gem, we'd better phone your mum to let her know where we are.'
He phoned Mum at work. I could tell she was giving him an earful on the other end of the phone, probably quizzing him about Biscuits and his family. Grandad pressed the phone close to his ear and mumbled,
'Yes, Liz, no, Liz,' several times. Then he mouthed, 'Three bags full, Liz,' so that I got the giggles.
On the way to Biscuits' house Grandad suggested we wait by the gate, rather than going straight in.
'That way you can nip in, lad, and check with your mum if it's convenient,' said Grandad. He rubbed his ear as if my mum's voice was still quacking away at him.
'Oh, my mum will be fine,' said Biscuits. 'She likes me bringing friends home.'
'Yeah, but maybe she won't like me,' I said. 'Some mums don't like me one bit.'
But Mrs McVitie gave me a great big smile when she opened her front door.
'This is Gemma, Mum,' said Biscuits eagerly.
156
'Of course it is,' said Mrs McVitie. 'I've heard a lot about you, sweetheart.' She smiled at Grandad.
'And are you Gemma's dad?'
'Her grandad!'
'Well I never. You don't look old enough to be a grandad,' said Mrs McVitie.
She was just teasing him but Grandad looked really chuffed.
Everyone smiled in the
McVitie family. Mr McVitie
smiled when he came home
from work at his barber's
shop. He ruffled my hair
and asked me if I'd just
had it cut.
'No, 1 m supposed to be growing it. I don't want to, though. I want it really really short. I don't suppose you'd give me a skinhead number one, would you?'
Mr McVitie roared with laughter. 'I don't think your mum would be too thrilled about that, darling.
I think you'd better confer with her first.'
I decided to put the idea on hold for a while.
Biscuits' granny smiled as she made us all a cup of tea. She gave Grandad his in a mug that said HUNKY GUY. Grandad had a little chuckle about it.
He'd been going to take a cookery lesson with me but he ended up sitting on the sofa with the granny, 157
looking at her photograph album.
Both of them hooted with laughter
at the things they all wore back
in the Old Days.
Biscuits' baby sister Polly
smiled too, lying back in her baby
chair, waving her little clenched fists and kicking her plump pink legs. Biscuits was brilliant with her, parking her baby chair up on top of the kitchen table beside us so she could see what we
were doing. He chatted away to
her like she was a real little
person, tickling her under her
chin and playing 'This Little
Piggy' with her tiny toes.
Polly squealed delightedly,
blinking her blue eyes at her
big brother.
I wondered if Callum had ever played with me like that. I was certain Jack wouldn't have gone anywhere near me. Little babies freak him out.
I'm not usually very keen on babies either. I politely said Polly was very sweet. I couldn't say she was pretty because she was much too pink and piggly and totally bald.
'I'll take her out of her baby chair and let you hold her,
if you like,' said Biscuits.
'No fear!' I said hurriedly. 'I'd probably drop her.'
158
Mum was always going on about me being so rough and clumsy. I had a little knot in my stomach already in case I made a complete mess of cake-making. I did sift my flour a little too vigorously so that it looked like there was a mini snowstorm in the kitchen but Biscuits just laughed. His mum laughed too!
Biscuits showed me how to sift
sensibly. Then he demonstrated the
complicated creaming lark. The
butter and sugar went into this
unpromising gritty ball at first
but it smoothed out eventually,
and really went creamy. Then
Biscuits initiated me into the very best bit about cake-making – licking out the bowl!
Grandad tried to pay for all the cake ingredients but Mrs McVitie wouldn't hear of it. Grandad promised the whole family a free trip out the next time his work Mercedes was available.
'Only it can't be this weekend. I'm taking a very special little lady on a long long trip up North,' he said, winking at me.
'You're going to see Alice?' said Biscuits.
'Yep! Won't that be wonderful?' I said.
'Well. I suppose. And so this cake's for her?' said Biscuits.
'It's for us to share. An early birthday cake. So 159
when it comes out the oven, will you show me how to ice it over and do fancy writing on the top?'
'OK.'
'I want quite a lot of writing. Alice and Gemma, Best Friends For Ever. Will it fit?'
'Probably.'
Biscuits seemed to have got a bit fed up with cake-making. He filled the icing bag for me to have a practice on greased paper while the cake was baking. Then he turned his back on me and made a great fuss of Polly. He pulled funny faces at her and she chortled appreciatively.
I tried to master writing in icing. It wasn't easy. The loopy bits wobbled and the round bits blotched.
Biscuits started playing peekaboo with Polly. Every time he went 'Boo' my hand shook and my words went wrong.
'Oh bum,' I said, and then glanced
anxiously at Mrs McVitie.
She was busy washing up and didn't hear, thank goodness.
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