‘Russell can look after himself, Dad. He’s not some sad little wimp.’
‘He could be Mr Muscles Macho Man. It wouldn’t make any difference if a whole gang started in on him.’
‘You’re getting totally paranoid, Dad.’
‘Maybe. I don’t know. But how about if you and Russell met up after school and then he went back home around nine?’
‘Dad! We’re not Eggs’s age!’
‘I know, I know – but you’re as precious to me as Eggs and I don’t need another night like Thursday. Look, you’re still supposed to be in the doghouse for that. I’ll let you see Russell, but I’m going to stick to this nine o’clock curfew for the time being. I think that’s more than fair.’
‘I don’t!’
‘Well it gets dark by nine – so you couldn’t do any sketching then, could you?’ says Dad, smiling.
I smile back weakly. I don’t know who’s bluffing who. But at least I can see Russell – even if it’s only in daylight!
I go up to my bedroom and read his letter again. Several times more. Then I go downstairs and ring Nadine and tell her that it’s all OK and that Russell walked round and round the town looking for me, practically knocking at every house door.
Nadine isn’t quite as impressed as I’d hoped. She’s got her Claudie album playing full blast (her family are obviously out) and she’s singing along instead of concentrating fully. I need to ask her something.
‘Nadine, do you really think Russell looks seriously shifty?’
Nadine herself sounds as if she’s doing some serious shifting the other end of the phone. ‘No, no, Ellie, not at all. I was just, you know, saying stuff to comfort you. I don’t think his eyes are too close together either. I think it was just his intense expression when he was sketching you.’
I let it go at that. I ring Magda next. She’s got some great news for me first – her dad has booked three tickets for us to go and hear Claudie next month! ‘There, aren’t you pleased, Ellie? Claudie will cheer you up. He’s not worth it, worth it, worth it, right?’
‘Well, maybe he is worth it after all, Magda.’
I fill her in on all the details, massaging the facts even more impressively, so that I have Russell practically trekking round the entire country looking for me.
I wait for Magda’s comments. There’s a little silence on the end of the phone.
‘So it shows he didn’t just stand me up,’ I say.
‘Sorry, Ellie, I’m not quite clear. You mean he stood you up because his dad wouldn’t let him go out?’
‘He didn’t stand me up, he wanted to come.’
‘But Daddy wouldn’t let him.’
I don’t like that Daddy bit. I pause. ‘I take it you still think Russell is awfully juvenile, just wanting to show off about himself?’
I can hear Magda swallowing.
‘No, no, well, not Russell in particular. Just most boys in Year Eleven. I mean, they’re better than the pathetic creeps in Year Ten, not to mention Year Nine, but they’re still not exactly . . . mature.’
‘So you think that Russell is immature?’
‘Oh Ellie, stop being so prickly. I think all boys are immature, full stop. But your Russell is great . . . for a boy.’
I agree happily, and tell her to thank her dad for ordering the tickets. Some time I am going to have to tackle my dad about coughing up the cash, but maybe it might be better to wait till tomorrow seeing as we have already spent so long negotiating today.
I decide to put myself in a good light by making him another coffee, even though it’s nearly teatime. I wonder where Anna and Eggs have got to. I have to make sure I get Anna on her own to get her to promise to keep quiet about my sneaking out to meet Russell on Friday night. If Dad knows I deliberately disobeyed him then maybe he’ll stop me seeing Russell altogether. And I have to see him!
I think about him going round all those houses asking for me. It’s like a fairytale. He’s the handsome prince on the loopy quest: knock three times on every house in this street and the next and then you will find the princess and get to kiss her . . .
I go into a happy little daze in my bedroom and don’t resurface until I hear the front door.
‘Is that you, Anna?’ I shout.
‘No it’s just me,’ Dad calls. ‘I was looking down the road to see if there was any sign of them. I don’t know where they’ve got to.’
‘Where were they going? Shopping?’ I peer over the banisters at him.
‘Ellie! As if Anna would go shopping with Eggs. You know what a pain he can be. No, Nadine’s mum phoned her up.’ Dad pulls a face.
I giggle. Nadine’s mum is one of those women who seem to spring from their bed fully made-up, hair lacquered into a helmet, armed with a J-Cloth and a Dust Buster.
‘Don’t you dare laugh! She’s still very much looking down her pointy nose at me because you were out so late on Thursday, and she doesn’t want you to be a bad influence on her Nadine.’
‘Oh God, she wasn’t going on about it again, was she?’
‘For a while, yes. But she was also telling Anna about this local photo shoot she’s dragging that showy little sister of Nadine’s to this afternoon – and she wondered if Anna wanted to take Eggs.’
‘What? Eggs!’
‘I know, I know, I can’t really see the little guy prancing around in front of a photographer myself, but apparently this particular company wanted to find a little boys who look like little boys – that is, filthy dirty and fooling about. It’s for this washing powder where a little girl is all dressed up in a pristine party frock—’
‘Natasha!’
‘And all these little boys come along and get her to play football with them and then push her over and get her all muddy.’
‘Ah, Eggs might be good at that!’
‘That’s what Anna thought. He seemed to relish the idea too. And you get paid! So that’s where they went. Only they’ve been gone hours and hours.’
‘Eggs probably got too enthusiastic and completely coated Natasha in mud. They might have to hose her down and dry her off and pretty her up again for each take – that would take ages.’
‘And meanwhile we’ve got rumbly tummies. I suppose I ought to mosey out into the kitchen and get something started for supper.’
Dad sounds totally lacking in enthusiasm. He understands the concept of the New Man but has all the laziness and lack of inclination of a very old man.
‘I’ll rustle something up, Dad,’ I say cheerily, determined to keep in his good books so that he might just extend this ludicrous nine o’clock curfew.
I rustle – and hustle and bustle – and we sit down to burnt omelettes and soggy chips.
‘This is delicious,’ Dad says determinedly. ‘But the thing is, Ellie, I’m starting to get really worried about Anna and Eggs, so I’ve sort of lost my appetite.’
It’s only partly an excuse. He does look a bit tense and twitchy.
‘They’ll be all right, Dad. This shoot thing will have just gone on for ages. Look, I’ll phone Nadine again and ask her how long these things take.’
I phone Nadine, but this time Nadine’s mum answers. She doesn’t sound too thrilled when she hears my voice.
‘Oh, it’s you, Ellie. I hope you’ve done your best to show you’re sorry for your behaviour last Thursday night. Your poor parents were in a terrible state. And I wasn’t at all happy about you involving my Nadine in your little deception.’
She rants on in similar vein for ages. I hold the receiver away from my ear, sighing. Eventually there seems to be a little pause.
‘I’m really sorry, but anyway, I just wanted to ask—’
‘No you can’t talk to Nadine just now, she’s having her supper. You girls! You’re on the phone every two minutes and yet you see each other every day. What? No, Nadine – go back to the table! What’s that, Natasha, pet?’
‘Have you and Natasha just got back from the photo shoot?’ I gabble quickly.
&
nbsp; ‘No! No, we’ve been back since five o’clock. It was a reasonably quick shoot – no thanks to your little brother, who ran wild and wouldn’t behave sensibly at all. So much so, they didn’t even use him in the end.’
‘So where are Eggs and Anna now?’ I ask.
‘I don’t know.’
‘But didn’t they come back with you?’
‘No. I offered them a lift in my car but Anna had got talking to some strange man and they went off with him.’
‘Anna went off with a strange man?’ I say.
Dad comes rushing to the phone. He grabs it from me and starts asking Nadine’s mum all sorts of questions.
‘I keep telling you, Mr Allard, I don’t know who this man is, or anything about him. I was busy looking after my Natasha. I don’t know if he was another parent – although he didn’t seem to have a child with him. He wasn’t on the main photographic team because I’ve got to know everyone involved. I suppose he could have been representing the washing powder company – but he didn’t look the type. He was wearing a black leather jacket. He seemed a bit rough, like a biker. I was a little surprised to see your wife going off with him.’
‘So why didn’t you try to stop her?’ Dad shouts.
‘Well, really! I’m not responsible for your wife’s behaviour. Nor your daughter’s behaviour either. I’d be grateful if you’d stop phoning me up and acting as if it’s my fault if one or the other goes missing.’
She puts the phone down on us. Dad and I stare at each other.
‘Don’t look so worried, Dad. Don’t take any notice of her, you know what she’s like.’
‘But she’s not a liar. She said she saw Anna go off with this strange man. Eggs too. Dear God, Ellie, what’s happened to them?’
‘Maybe Nadine’s mum made a mistake,’ I say, though Nadine’s mum is like one of those meerkats, all beady-eyed and extended neck, seeing absolutely everything. She isn’t the sort of woman who ever makes mistakes. But then Anna isn’t the sort of woman to disappear with a strange biker either.
‘Anna wouldn’t ever go off with a weirdo stranger – especially not with Eggs,’ I say.
‘I know,’ Dad says wretchedly. ‘That’s what makes it worse. Oh Ellie, maybe she knows this man.’
‘What?’
‘Maybe – maybe he’s a friend of hers. More than a friend.’
‘Oh, Dad.’
‘Well, I suppose I’m not the easiest man in the world to live with. And – and sometimes I enjoy a little harmless flirt with some of the students. It’s nothing serious, I swear, but perhaps it preys on Anna’s mind. Then on Thursday night you turned on me and practically accused me of having a girlfriend on the side.’
‘Dad, I was just trying to get to you.’
‘I know, and it worked too. And I haven’t got a girlfriend. I maybe mightn’t have always been squeaky clean in the past but I hope I’ve grown up a bit now. I know I’ve got a really wonderful wife—’
‘You’ve had two,’ I say, suddenly fierce.
‘Yes, I’m sorry, Ellie. No-one can ever replace your mum. We know that. It’s been hard for Anna. I don’t really treasure her enough. I forget how young she is. She used to be so different when I first met her—’
‘Dad, don’t.’
‘You don’t think this guy in the leathers is some boyfriend of hers? Someone she met at her Italian class, maybe?’
‘Of course not,’ I say firmly, but Dad’s in such a state he’s almost got me wondering. There’s a part of me that knows perfectly well that this is totally crazy and my own kind, sensible stepmother isn’t going to hit the road on a Harley with a secret lover – certainly not with Eggs along too – but then it seems so unlike Anna to be so late and not even phone.
Maybe this strange man was just giving her a lift – but then they had an accident. A crash.
I let myself think just for a second what it would be like if Anna never ever came back. And it’s so weird. For years I didn’t like her. I felt she was taking my mum’s place and I just wanted her to get out so it could be Dad and me, even though we were half a family without Mum. But now – Anna’s part of this new family. She can be an old ratbag sometimes when she has a nag about homework or the state of my bedroom, but most of the time she’s like a special big sister to me.
And what about my real little brother. Heavens, would I actually miss Eggs???
‘Oh, Dad, they’ve got to be all right,’ I say, and he puts his arms round me and holds me tight.
‘Of course they are, take no notice of that stupid stuff I said. I’m just ranting rubbish. Of course they’re all right. There’s obviously some perfectly ordinary explanation. They’ll be here any minute now, you wait and see.’
And then suddenly there’s a key in the door and Eggs calling and they are here and the waiting is over.
‘Hi! Did you wonder what had happened to us?’ Anna says cheerily, while Dad swoops Eggs up in his arms and gives him a huge bear-hug.
I feel so relieved that they’re safe, so ridiculous for getting worried, so angry that Anna’s got me all churned up like this.
‘Where have you been? You could have phoned!’ I say furiously.
Anna stares – then she bursts out laughing.
‘What’s so funny?’ I growl.
‘Talk about role reversal! You sound just like a mum,’ Anna laughs. She looks at Dad, expecting him to join in the laughter.
‘We were really worried, Anna,’ says Dad, releasing Eggs and putting him down on the carpet. ‘Why didn’t you phone? What were you playing at?’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be so worried,’ says Anna, going into the kitchen. ‘Have you two had your tea? Oh dear, who burnt the frying-pan? Hey ho. Eggs, what would you like? Boiled eggs or scrambled?’
‘Scrambled me please,’ says Eggs, shrieking with laughter, as if this is the most original joke in the entire world, though he’s told it every time he’s eaten an egg for the past couple of years.
He seems even more full of himself than usual, puffing out his chest and beating it like a little gorilla.
‘I’m going to be famous, Ellie,’ he says.
‘I thought you were pretty useless at the photo shoot, not doing what you were told and being silly to Natasha. They didn’t even use you,’ I snub him.
‘How did you know?’ says Anna, startled.
‘Because I phoned Nadine’s mum,’ I explain.
‘Oh dear! Yes, she wasn’t best pleased with us. She felt we were mucking up Natasha’s big moment. I must admit, though, when I saw that child prancing and pouting in front of the cameras I was awfully glad I had an ordinary mischievous little kid like Eggs,’ says Anna, whisking eggs. ‘Anyone else want any eggs? Apart from Humpty Dumpty here.’
‘Do an eggy Humpty jumper, Mum!’ says Eggs.
‘Hey, yes, that would look great. Maybe Humpty could be sitting on the wall on the front and falling off and in pieces on the back,’ Anna says, giving Eggs a kiss on the nose.
‘And it’s my woolly jumper, isn’t it, Mum? They’re all my jumpers and Ellie can’t ever ever borrow them, can she?’
‘As if I’d want to!’ I say witheringly.
‘Well, I know you’ve always thought my funny jumpers are awful, Ellie – but they might just prove popular,’ says Anna, stirring eggs. She catches sight of Dad, who is still staring at her. ‘What?’
‘What the hell do you mean, “What?”’ Dad explodes. ‘I just can’t believe this. You disappear with our son for almost the whole day. You’re hours and hours late home, you were seen by that dreadful woman going off with this weirdo biker—’
‘Biker?’ says Anna, looking mystified.
‘A man in a black leather biker jacket.’
‘Oh!’ says Anna, giggling.
‘It’s not funny!’ Dad thunders. ‘For God’s sake tell me what you’ve been up to.’
‘OK, OK. But a biker!’ Anna splutters again. ‘That was George, and the biker jacket is a
ctually an Armani masterpiece that’s only seen the inside of his new silver Audi.’
‘So who the hell is George?’ says Dad – and now he sounds really worried.
‘George is the editor of a new family magazine. Not the tea-cosy and telly type, this is ultra hip and designer-orientated, right?’
Anna sounds like she’s talking a new language. She almost looks like a new person. Her face is glowing, her eyes are big, her hair is a little ruffled in a chic sort of way, her whole stance is different, chin up, chest out, confident. It’s as if this George is a fairy godfather and changed her into Cinderella at the ball.
Then she remembers the eggs, rescues them and serves Eggs his tea.
‘So what about this George?’ I say. ‘Oh Anna, has he offered you a job on his magazine?’
‘Yes! Well, on a freelance basis, so there’s no problem about being here for Eggs,’ says Anna, dipping toast into Eggs’s eggs and nibbling.
‘But you don’t know the first thing about journalism,’ says Dad.
‘I know. He’s offered me a job as a designer,’ says Anna. She looks at me triumphantly. ‘It’s my jumpers, Ellie! He saw Eggs and asked me where I’d bought his sweater. I said I made it myself so he asked about a pattern and I explained that I sketch the picture out in crosses first and then I knit it up hoping for the best and he was really interested. Then after the shoot (and dear God it was Eggs who needed shooting, he was so naughty), George asked if we could go to the magazine offices to talk things over.’
‘And you did? On a Saturday? Surely it would be all locked up?’
‘Darling, George is the editor. He can go into his own office whenever he chooses,’ Anna says.
‘You were still a bit reckless agreeing so easily. He could have been spinning you a line,’ says Dad.
Anna shakes her head at him. ‘It’s not like he invited me back to his house. It was a beautiful state-of-the-art office in Bloomsbury.’
‘You went all the way to London with him?’
‘Yes, I rode in his car and he had his own PlayStation and he let me play with it and I got to the third level,’ says Eggs, his mouth all yellow froth.
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