Best Friends For Never

by Laura Pearson

  For all the best friends: Mary Katherine

  and Kelly and Jenny and Anne and Ashley

  and Lisa and Jill and Erin and Carrie and

  Christy and Jacqueline and Sarah and

  Uma and Shirit and Zoe and Helen and Pri.

  And especially for Susan Henry Quick, my

  very own bestest of best friends forever

  Contents

  Cover

  Dedication

  Chapter 1: Bubble Bubble, Here Comes Trouble

  Chapter 2: The Most Horrible Maths Lesson in the World

  Chapter 3: Apple Crumble, Fairy Lights and a Smiley Cat

  Chapter 4: Christmas Comes Early

  Chapter 5: Three Is a Perfectly Lovely Number

  Chapter 6: The Beginning of Never

  Chapter 7: A Not-Friend Is Far Worse than an Enemy

  Chapter 8: Things Really Begin to Wobble

  Chapter 9: Never Can Be Quite Contagious

  Chapter 10: Crumble and Punishment

  Chapter 11: Friendship All Around

  Turn the page for lots more Crabtree School fun!

  Copyright

  In a shady back garden somewhere on the edge of Crabtree Lane, two heads bent over a cauldron. Water from the pond in Crabtree Park simmered inside the huge pot, mixed with autumn leaves and shiny red crab apples. A tiny boat bobbed on the surface of this magical soup, and two necklaces – two halves of one heart – lay gently on a lacy pillow on the small ship’s deck.

  “Now for your bit,” said Ava, brushing her wispy blonde hair back from her face and drying her hands on her jeans.

  Zoe stepped forward, her wellies squelching in the mud of the soggy flower bed. She opened her rucksack.

  “Here I give you my favourite things,” she said in her most serious voice. “Here is the maths test I got full marks on.” Taking care not to sink the boat, Zoe dropped the test paper into the cauldron and stirred it round until it sank to the bottom.

  “And here is a star sticker from the ceiling of my bedroom, and a peacock feather I found at the zoo. Here is the ticket from when we went to see Frozen.” She stirred the mixture once again.

  “My turn,” said Ava, as a fine mist crept over the garden. She stepped forward. “By all the mystical magical powers in the universe, I add this bit of hair from my hairbrush—”

  “Ewww!” Zoe shrieked and they both giggled.

  Ava continued solemnly. “Here is the last page of Pippi Longstocking, my most favourite book in the entire world.” Another sheet of paper vanished into the cauldron.

  “And finally, here is my ticket from Frozen,” finished Ava. “Now we must recite the sacred poem.”

  The two girls joined hands and began the chant:

  “Eeeny, meeny, miney, mo,

  No matter where we one day go,

  Eeny, meeny, miney, mee,

  The best of friends we’ll always be.”

  The garden grew deathly silent. All those present – the dolls seated round the cauldron, the garden gnome, Ava’s cat and even the birds – were perfectly still, watching and waiting. Everything had to be just right.

  Finally, at long last, Zoe was sure that she could see the two necklaces on the boat begin to glow: the spell was working!

  “Ava, Zoe, pizza time!” Ava’s mum shouted from the kitchen door. She stepped outside. “Look at you two, you are covered in mud! And why on earth are you mucking about with that old paddling pool? The water is filthy!”

  Zoe and Ava rescued their necklaces just as the spell faded.

  “Remember,” said Zoe, “we must never take these off.” She held up her half of the friendship heart. It read:

  “Never, for as long as we both shall live and happily ever after and all of those things,” agreed Ava. Her half read:

  As they made their way towards the warm light of the kitchen, neither Zoe nor Ava noticed the slimy green frog that jumped out of the cauldron. If they had, they might have seen it as a bad omen. Best friend spells are the most difficult of all spells to cast properly, and even one extra ingredient can spoil the whole lot.

  “But, Mummy,” cried Zoe that evening at bath time, “I CAN’T take my necklace off. I promised to wear it forever and ever and as long as—”

  “I’m sure Ava will understand that you need to have a bath and you don’t want your necklace to get ruined,” said Zoe’s mum. “Ava will have to take hers off too, for her bath. Now get going, you’re a muddy mess.”

  There was no arguing with Zoe’s mum, especially when it was nearly bedtime. Very carefully, Zoe put her half of the heart on a towel by the side of the tub and climbed into the bubbles.

  It would probably be OK, Zoe decided. She and Ava loved a bit of magic, but even without it they were already the best of friends there could ever be. At school, Zoe and Ava were always together. They sat next to each other at the lunch table and they played together at break time. They were always partners in PE, and they stood in every queue side-by-side. Last spring, they had become the youngest girls ever in the history of their school to win the wheelbarrow race during Sports Day. That had made them sort of famous. Everyone at Crabtree School for Girls knew that Ava and Zoe were best friends.

  When they weren’t at school, Zoe and Ava had play dates all the time, even sleepovers. They built forts out of sofa cushions. They dressed up in Ava’s mummy’s old clothes and borrowed Zoe’s daddy’s telescope to look at the stars. Last summer, they’d seen each other every day for thirteen days in a row. By the thirteenth day, they were finishing each other’s sentences in a made-up language that only the two of them could understand.

  “Mofnwoh,” Zoe would say. “Zmmbob—”

  “Zmmbob maywee gllloople,” Ava would agree.

  Zoe knew that even without spells she and Ava would be best friends forever.

  All the same, as soon as she stepped out of the bath, Zoe wasted no time putting her half of the Best Friends heart safely back around her neck.

  Zoe liked numbers. Ava always said that Zoe wanted to marry numbers. If she were going to marry a number, Zoe would choose seven. Seven was her favourite number and also her age.

  Because of this love of numbers, Zoe was always counting things. On the first day of Year Three at Crabtree School for Girls, Zoe had counted the desks in their new classroom. There were three rows of desks, and there were seven desks in each row.

  The sum could look like this:

  7 desks + 7 desks + 7 desks = 21 desks

  There were twenty-one girls in their class, so Zoe had known right from the beginning of Year Three that each girl would have her very own desk. This was different from Year Two, when they had sat at four big tables. Year Three was much more grown-up.

  One thing numbers couldn’t tell you about the desks in Year Three was that on the first day of school, you got to choose your own place. You could sit wherever you wanted, even next to your best friend. By the time they had cast the magic friendship spell, Ava and Zoe had been sitting next to each other in the Year Three classroom for seventeen days.

  That morning, on the eighteenth day, Zoe had come racing into Year Three to tell Ava about the fox she’d seen on the way to school, the fox that was walking straight down the middle of the road as if it were going to the bus stop. But Ava wasn’t in her seat in the second row near the window, because something terrible had happened.

  Year Three was all in a jumble. There was one row of seven desks at the back. Then there was another row of six desks, then one of five and then one final row of four desks in the front by the teacher.

  Now the sum looked like this:

  7 desks + 6 desks + 5 desks + 4 desks = 22 desks

  There were twenty-two desks in the Year Three classroom, w
hich meant that there was one more desk today than there had been last week.

  Zoe hardly had time to think about this, because her own desk had been moved as well. She could tell from the names written on the tops that her desk was an entire row away from Ava’s desk and across the whole room. She was miles away from her best friend.

  This did not make sense. It did not add up.

  Zoe saw that Ava was unhappy too, and not just because she and Zoe were so far apart. Ava was no longer near a window. Zoe knew that Ava liked to stare out at the park and the clouds. She liked to daydream nearly all the time, and that would be a lot harder from her new seat in the middle of Year Three. Zoe felt sorry for her best friend.

  Zoe = miserable, Ava = miserable, and for what? None of this added up.

  Zoe and Ava were not the only ones having a disaster. Their friend Lottie had also lost her seat near the window. Now Lottie was in a middle row towards the front. Lottie was the nosiest girl at Crabtree School for Girls. She liked to know everything about everyone. From her new place, Lottie couldn’t see out of the window to watch people coming and going with her huge brown eyes. She couldn’t see the classroom door or the hallway properly either, and she would miss out on everything that was going on behind her. Worst of all, now Lottie was close to the teacher’s desk, which meant that Miss Moody might catch her spying, or writing in her purple notebook.

  Zoe = miserable, Ava = miserable, Lottie = miserable.

  Why would Miss Moody do this to them? Why would she let them choose their seats for the beginning of Year Three and then go and ruin everything?

  Their friend Isabel was luckier. Isabel was the best-behaved, most helpful, kindest girl in their class, and she always sat in the front row. This morning was like every other morning for Isabel; she was right there in her same seat, sitting with her hands folded, her desk tidy, waiting for school to begin. Her plaits seemed especially straight and even her freckles looked organized. Plus, now Isabel was even closer to Lottie, who was her best friend.

  The four of them, Isabel, Lottie, Ava and Zoe, stuck together like chocolate buttons on a warm day. They were friends and they always had been, ever since Reception. Ava and Zoe were the bestest of best friends, and Lottie and Isabel were the bestest of best friends, but it could safely be said that all four of them were very, very good friends.

  2 bestest friends + 2 bestest friends = 4 very, very good friends.

  It was perfect maths, really, because it all came out evenly.

  Except, right then, Zoe secretly wanted to pinch Isabel a little bit. Because it really wasn’t fair that she got to stay in her same seat while everyone else moved. Maybe, Zoe thought hopefully, Isabel would be sat next to someone that she didn’t like. That would even things out.

  The trouble with that was that their Year Three class was really quite special. Everyone at Crabtree School said so. They all got on and, for the most part, everybody liked everybody else. Still, Zoe thought, looking around Year Three, there had to be someone that Isabel might not want to sit next to. Margot talked a lot, even when she wasn’t supposed to, and Louisa never sat still. Maybe Isabel, who was very keen on following the rules, would be sat next to a chatterbox or a wiggler. Then Isabel would be cross, and that would make it fair.

  But the name on the desk next to Isabel did not say Margot. It did not say Louisa. It said Rani.

  This was very strange because there was no one in the class of twenty-one girls called Rani.

  But as you know:

  7 desks + 6 desks + 5 desks + 4 desks = 22 desks.

  Not twenty-one.

  “Take your seats, girls,” said Miss Moody cheerfully. Despite her name – Miss Moody is a dreadful name for a teacher – Miss Moody was not at all moody. In fact, she was perfectly cheery. Zoe thought she should have been called Miss Good-Moody. But today she must have gone bonkers. What was she thinking, moving everyone’s seats?

  Because she didn’t know what else to do, Zoe sat down in her horrible new place and got ready for the lesson to begin. She smoothed down her curly brown hair and straightened the six clips she always wore to keep it tidy, three on each side of her head. She took out her Monday pencil and made sure that it was nice and sharp. Zoe had a different pencil for every day of the week. Monday’s pencil was pink, which happened to be Ava’s favourite colour. Zoe looked sadly down at her necklace. Even if Miss Moody had forgotten that best friends should sit together, surely the Best Friend spell should be working to keep her and Ava close?

  Zoe couldn’t even see Ava at that moment, she was so far away. In front of Zoe, Lottie was writing furiously in her notebook, while at the same time wiggling her hand in the air for Miss Moody’s attention. The new desk arrangement and the mysterious name tag were probably driving Lottie mad; spies like Lottie didn’t like surprises. But before Lottie could demand an explanation from Miss Moody, the class was interrupted by a visit from the headmistress of Crabtree School for Girls.

  Mrs Peabody was a headmistress of legendary kindness. Not only did she know the name of every girl at Crabtree School, she knew their favourite colours and their baby brothers’ names and what they liked on their pizzas. Mrs Peabody gave out lots of hugs, and if you happened to be passing by her office at the right time of day, she’d offer you hot chocolate and a biscuit. Sometimes two biscuits. The headmistress wore bright summery colours even in darkest winter. She had poufy grey hair that was swirled high on her head in two big bubbles; Zoe thought it looked like a number eight. Mrs Peabody’s shoes made lovely tippety-tappety music when she walked, and she smelled of sweet perfume and also of biscuits. She was one of the best things about Crabtree School – which was saying a lot, because Crabtree School was full of wonderful things.

  Mrs Peabody only had one weakness that anyone could see, and it may have been just the thing that made her so kind: Mrs Peabody hated to see a child cry. It drove her bananas. Her skin would go red, her eyes would pop out and her hair would stand straight up. Then her teeth would chatter and she’d talk complete nonsense. Zoe had seen it happen many times.

  So it was very worrying that standing next to Mrs Peabody was a girl with big dark eyes, soft brown skin and huge tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “Girls,” said Mrs Peabody, “I am delighted to introduce you to Miss Rani Anand. Rani will be joining you in Year Three. Isn’t that exciting?”

  Zoe noticed that although Mrs Peabody was patting Rani reassuringly on the back, the headmistress couldn’t bring herself to actually look at the new girl. Already Rani’s tears were causing little puffs of smoke to come out of Mrs Peabody’s nose and ears.

  Miss Moody came to the rescue. “That’s wonderful news, Mrs Peabody,” she said. “Rani, welcome to Year Three! How delightful to have you here!”

  Rani did not look delighted. She looked sad and most of all scared. Zoe studied her carefully. Rani had on pink sparkly nail polish, and her school shoes were the kind that could be decorated with bows and jewels.

  Miss Moody showed Rani her desk next to Isabel’s.

  “Isabel,” said Miss Moody kindly. “Please will you look after Rani today? Will you show her around during break time? Give her a little tour of our school?”

  Isabel couldn’t have looked happier, which Zoe thought was strange because this meant Isabel would miss playing at break time. Their daily game of Mummies and Babies in the Crabtree School tree house would be ruined, because Isabel was always the mummy and now they wouldn’t have one.

  Lottie’s hand shot up in the air again.

  “Please may I help too, Miss Moody? I can tell Rani loads about Crabtree School.”

  Miss Moody had to agree that no one had more information about Crabtree School than Lottie. Everything you ever wanted to know (and more) was right there in her purple notebook.

  So Lottie was allowed to help, and now break time Mummies and Babies would be missing the daddy too.

  The version of Mummies and Babies that Zoe, Ava, Lottie and Isabel played wasn’t the
kind that little children play; it was much more complicated than that. They went on camping trips under the slide and started fires by rubbing sticks together. (They hadn’t actually started a real fire yet, but it was only a matter of time.) They had beach holidays in the sandpit and they went to see the doctor next to the climbing frame to sort out bouts of chickenpox made with red pen. Zoe, Ava, Lottie and Isabel were expert pretenders. Mostly Isabel was Mum, Lottie was Dad, and Zoe was the baby, because she had a baby brother and was therefore an expert on babies. Ava was usually some sort of animal or lifeguard or doctor. Now today all they’d have was a baby and probably a kitten, which really wasn’t a family at all. It would be just a lot of crying and mewing.

  Zoe scowled. She watched Rani’s back as Crabtree’s newest student put her things into her desk. Probably Rani was a perfectly nice girl (she had lots of sharp sparkly pencils, that was for sure) but why did everyone have to use break time to show her around the school? At least Zoe would still have Ava. Maybe Ava would agree to be a big sister, and they could pretend the mummy and daddy had been kidnapped by pirates.

  Then a dreamy voice called out, “Please may I help too, Miss Moody?”

  Zoe knew who that was even before she twisted round to look.

  “Of course you can, Ava,” said Miss Moody, who was pleased that everyone was so eager to help Rani settle in, and also pleased that Ava had been paying attention and not daydreaming.

  Morning break time was now well and truly ruined. Zoe couldn’t very well sit in the Crabtree tree house crying and goo-goo gaa-gaa-ing all by herself. She sighed and put her hand up. Rani would have four tour guides.

  Crabtree School was quite simply the best primary school in all of Great Britain. Everyone for miles around knew this to be true, and Zoe for one couldn’t understand why Rani would be anything but excited to be joining Crabtree’s Year Three class. But Rani still looked sad when it was time for morning break. She also looked not at all sorry to have ruined a perfectly good game of Mummies and Babies. Zoe was hoping they could hurry through the tour and still have time left to play, but Isabel insisted on showing Rani every inch of Crabtree School.