Ask Amy Green: Summer Secrets

by Sarah Webb

  At least it’s always hot and sunny in Italy. You’ll get a great tan. Me and Clover were at the beach earlier but we had to come back ’cos it started to rain. Typical!

  As I write I imagine Seth with a tan. And then my mind slips to Kit’s already tanned chest. I shake my head – but Kit’s handsome face is still there. I try to concentrate on Seth. Seth’s smattering of freckles over his cute nose, his amazing blue eyes and the way he lets his hair flop over them when he’s upset or trying to hide something. OK, I’m back on Seth-track now.

  What else has happened? Nothing really. Food fight at dinner last night – Denis versus Alex. Denis won. Poor Alex didn’t stand a chance. Denis fired a bread roll at him and it nearly landed in his eye, so Mum told Denis to go to his room. But Prue, my mad aunt, said he could stay, that he didn’t start it. Mum said, “But he’s nine, Prue. Alex is only a baby.”

  It’s all fun and games at Camp MadHaven, I can tell you. Mum and Prue still aren’t really speaking to each other again.

  The house we’re staying in has its own private island with a huge garden, a beach and even a maze – it’s amazing. (Get it?) And it is kind of haunted – by the ghost of girlfriends past. Although she is very much alive.

  It turns out one of Gramps’s old flames owns the place – isn’t that wild? They’re having dinner together and everything. I’ll let you know if sixty-year-olds kiss on a first date. Yuck – on second thoughts, maybe I won’t!

  Muchos kisses and hugs,

  Amy XXX

  I decide three kisses is enough. One looks a bit scabby, but I don’t want to go overboard. After all, he is banged up in a weird commune with booby bikini girl. I have to keep him keen.

  Then I spot a new email from Mills:

  Hello, oh wise and wonderful friend,

  Help me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  I’ve only been here two days and I’m already going insane. The Costigans are barking. Ria has about ten showers a day and then leaves her damp towels all over the house. Rex is never off the phone. He walks about the place jabbering away into this pop-star headset thing and waving his spade-sized hands around. He loves himself too and never stops looking in the mirror! I caught him gazing at his reflection in the shiny toaster this morning.

  Miami is awesome, though – so it’s almost worth it.

  But I have a major, huge problem. There’s this boy…

  The pool filter is broken at his family’s place and the pool’s full of algae, so he and his friend have been using the Costigans’ pool most days. They know Ria and Rex through the movie business.

  He’s so gorge, Amy, and way out of my league, but I have to try. Although so far he seems to be ignoring me.

  HOW DO I MAKE HIM NOTICE ME??

  How did you make Seth sit up and pay attention? I need your boy expertise, drastically. Wish you were here!

  Marlon keeps asking about Clover. He wants to know if she has a serious boyfriend. I think he fancies her!!!!!!! Yuck. He’s only eleven.

  You must be really missing Seth. Hope you’re surviving without the hot snogging?!

  Your bestest bestest friend eva,

  Mills

  XXX

  * * *

  “Oi, Beanie; what’s up? Anything interesting?” Clover has come in and is peering over my shoulder. I put my hands up to cover the screen, but it’s too late. Mills’s question is in such huge caps, it’s impossible to hide.

  “‘How do I make him notice me?’ That would make a great Dear Clover letter, don’t you think? Who’s the email from? Mills?”

  My face drops, but I say nothing.

  She grins. “So it is Mills.”

  Yikes! Mills will kill me.

  Clover ruffles my hair. “Don’t worry; we’ll change the name and details to protect the innocent. But I think I can help her.”

  “You can? In that case” – I start to sing the dwarfs’ song from Snow White – “Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to work we go.”

  Clover laughs. “Sure thing, Beanie-Dwarf.”

  Chapter 12

  Dear Celine,

  How to make a boy notice you? That’s an interesting one. Luckily, most males are simple creatures with simple needs.

  1. Food

  Offer him something to eat – any kind of hot meat product is a winner: steak, hamburgers, spicy sausages. Or failing that, tortilla chips and any kind of junk food.

  2. Sport and Hobbies

  Boys love talking about sport and their hobbies. They also love girls who will happily chow down popcorn beside them while watching the Gunners sock it to Man City, or Munster thrashing Harlequins. If you actually like footie or rugby, even better.

  But of course, some boys are more music heads…

  3. Music

  Boys also love to talk about music. Find out what kind of music he’s into and do some research on the Internet. Tell him about a great new band you’ve found (a band you think he’ll get – based on your research) and play him a song on your mobile. He’ll be very impressed.

  4. Technology

  Boys like to yabber on about mobiles and the latest electronic gadgets – iPods and Apple Macs and the like. Frankly, computer-speak bores me to tears. (Megabytes and memory cards, anyone?) But if it’s your bag, go for it!

  5. To Feel Important

  All of us like to feel important, and boys are no different. By showing an interest in him at all, you are pandering to his inner “I am a god – why has no one discovered it yet?” feelings.

  Tell him how amazing he is; tell him how awesome he was on the rugby pitch/on stage/in class. Everyone likes to feel special.

  On a less frivolous note…

  6. Someone to Listen

  Yes, even boys need someone to talk to and, most importantly, to listen. Be an unjudgemen-tal ear. Tell him, “I’m here if you ever want someone to talk to.” Maybe he’ll never need it, but by offering, you are showing that you care.

  But enough of the touchy-feely stuff…

  7. Fast Cars

  Boys love fast cars! The flasher the better. If you have a dad/grandad/uncle/godfather who owns a Porsche or an Aston Martin, cool. Get them to collect you from school in it. I guarantee it’ll make your boy’s head turn. Notice smotice, he won’t be able to stop staring at you.

  All of these tips can help, but remember: above all, the most important thing is to be yourself. Yes, show an interest in his hobbies – find out what movies and music he likes etc. etc. – but use these topics as conversation-openers. Don’t pretend to like horror movies if you’d rather hide under the bed than watch. You’ll be found out pretty quickly when you run screaming out of the cinema on your first date.

  And finally – smile; be natural. Don’t pretend to be someone you’re not. Yes, boys like girls to look nice, but give him a genuine, friendly smile and he’ll choose you over the belt-for-a-skirt girl with the frown every time. Be fun, be as confident as you can and enjoy his company. If you have to be someone you’re not around him, find another boy. If he’s worth dating, he’ll accept and like you for who you are.

  All the best,

  Clover XXX

  Chapter 13

  It’s eight in the evening. The babies are all in bed – yeah! – and the parentals plus me and Clover are sitting round the wooden kitchen table after dinner. There’s a deep cut in the wood – I could swear it wasn’t there this morning; the gash looks clean and fresh. I wonder if Denis has been at it with his Swiss Army knife. I spotted him playing with it earlier, cutting worms in half on the patio with its miniature scissors. Yuck! Whoever gave that demon-boy a knife is deranged.

  “Let’s play a game of Trivial Pursuit,” Prue says brightly. “It wouldn’t be a proper holiday without board games.”

  Clover groans. She hates Trivial Pursuit. Too much like school, she says; plus it’s hard to cheat. She has tried stealing the triangular pie pieces and dropping them in when no one’s looking, but someone usually catches her at it.

 
“Trivial Pursuit might be a bit difficult for Amy,” she says, throwing me a Don’t-Say-a-Word wink. She knows I rock at Trivial Pursuit. “What about Monopoly?”

  “Good idea,” Mum says, standing up. “The Wildgusts and Amy against the Sticklebacks.” (Dan’s name is Stickleback. Weird, I know, but there you go.)

  “Sylvie,” Dave warns. He obviously hasn’t forgotten the last time Mum and Clover played Monopoly.

  Clover loves to win and is totally unscrupulous. She steals houses and hotels and even money from the bank. It drives Mum insane. Last Christmas they had a huge row over it. Mum threw all the Monopoly money (she was the banker) in Clover’s face.

  “Take it all, Clover!” she screamed. “You may as well.”

  Clover just opened her mouth and tried to catch the fluttering notes between her teeth while Mum ran off in a steaming sulk. There’s no way she’d be offering to play Monopoly with Clover – unless she intends to use Clover’s tricks to her advantage.

  “What?” Mum frowns at Dave. “You like Monopoly.”

  He keeps quiet. Wise.

  “Right,” Mum continues. “Can you help me find the box, Clover?”

  From the looks Mum and Clover are exchanging, I know they’re hatching something.

  “I’ll just check on the babies,” I say, following closely behind them.

  “Thanks, Amy.” Dave raises his glass and smiles at me a little sloppily. I think he’s had a bit too much wine.

  I stand outside the living-room door. Mum and Clover are huddled in the far corner of the room, the Monopoly box open. A floorboard creaks under my foot and they both look round guiltily.

  “I’m just being the human baby monitor,” I say. “Carry on with your espionage. Don’t forget to put plenty of hotels up your sleeves.”

  “Amy,” Clover hisses.

  I smile at her knowingly and walk away.

  “I don’t care what you have to do,” I hear Mum say as I go up the stairs. “We must win, understand?”

  “Don’t worry, sis,” Clover says. “We’ll trash them.”

  Jeepers! Mum’s lost all her scruples. This feud with Prue must be serious.

  Alex, Evie, Bella and Ollie are sleeping soundly. It takes me a few minutes to find Denis. He’s sitting on his bed in the Lilac Room, carving the end of a large stick into a point with his penknife. I watch him for a second. He’s using the blade like an expert, skimming the wood away from his body with firm, even strokes.

  “Are you in the Scouts or something?” I ask him.

  He jumps and his penknife clatters on to the floor. “So what if I am?” He glares at me, his dark eyes sparkling like coals in a fire. “You nearly made me wreck my spear.” He waves the stick at me and prods me in the stomach.

  “Ouch!” I jump back, rubbing my skin. “That hurt. Be careful.”

  He pokes me again.

  “What are you doing? Stop or I’ll—” I look closely at his face. There’s a dark brown ring round his mouth. “Have you been eating chocolate? I thought you weren’t allowed sweets.”

  “No!” He rubs the back of his hand quickly across his lips.

  “Look, if you do your teeth and get into bed I won’t say anything, OK? Why don’t you read a book?”

  “Mum only packed Enid Blytons and they’re way too babyish.”

  “I saw some Anthony Horowitz books on the shelves in the living room. If I get one for you, will you go to bed?”

  His eyes light up and he nods. “Don’t tell Mum. She thinks they’re too violent.”

  “Deal.”

  Violent? I think as I creep downstairs, feeling like a French Resistance spy. (The Nazis used to ban books too.) Denis has just attacked me with a stick. At least Alex Rider is polite to girls and tries to combat evil, not cause it. Denis might learn something.

  I grab Stormbreaker off the bookshelf, run back upstairs and thrust it into his eager hands. “If Prue finds it, cover for me.”

  He smiles. It lasts only a split second, but it’s definitely a smile. Maybe I’m getting somewhere.

  When I walk back into the kitchen everyone looks up at me.

  “What?” I say.

  “You’re playing with Dan and Prue,” Clover says. “To even out the numbers.”

  “But what about Dave?” I ask. “He should play with his sister.”

  Mum glares at me, eyes flashing. “He’s playing with us.”

  I glance round the table. You could almost eat the tension in the room. Everyone looks very serious. Especially Mum. Great, just my luck. But I know when to keep quiet so I pull out a chair and sit down beside Dan.

  Mum rubs her hands together and says, “Let the battle commence.”

  “I should warn you I used to work for an estate agent, Sylvie,” Prue says. “I believe that gives our team a distinct advantage. Want to concede defeat while you still can?”

  “Prue, you used to show houses on a Saturday,” Dan says. “It’s hardly relevant.”

  She glares at him. He murmurs, “Sorry,” then stares down at the table.

  I giggle nervously. No one else so much as grins.

  Mum, Clover and Dave win easily. Surprise, surprise.

  Prue can’t understand it. “But we own Shrewsbury Road, Ailesbury Road and Grafton Street, the most expensive properties on the whole board.” She’s staring at the small cluster of little green houses in her hand and shaking her head.

  “But they have so many hotels,” Dan tells her gently. She’s taking the loss very badly.

  “I demand a rematch,” she says, suddenly all feisty. She looks at Mum. “Trivial Pursuit.” Mum opens her mouth to protest, but Prue doesn’t let her speak. “I’m sure Amy will manage, won’t you, Amy?”

  I just nod. There’s no way I’m getting involved in Mum and Prue’s board-game mud wrestle.

  “To make it fair,” Prue adds, “Amy can answer the kids’ questions. We brought Junior Trivial Pursuit for Denis.”

  I try not to laugh. I can’t imagine Denis being interested in board games.

  “We’ll still win,” Mum says.

  “Let’s see about that,” Prue challenges her.

  Chapter 14

  Wednesday lunchtime. It’s bucketing down outside and Mum still isn’t talking to me. It’s hardly my fault I’m so good at Trivial Pursuit. Mum said I didn’t have to answer all the questions correctly; I could have got the odd one or two wrong. But that goes against all my principles. I suppose I was showing off a bit, answering some of the adult pie questions as well as my own.

  Clover tried to get me to help their team on the sly, but I was having none of it. They cheated their way through Monopoly; I was not going to let them win Trivial Pursuit too. Besides, I like Dan. He’s funny. A bit grumpy – but that’s on account of his being a Northerner, according to Dave.

  Mum’s still holding it against me, though. She wouldn’t let me drive into town with Clover to collect Brains, so I’m stuck inside, staring out at the grey drizzle. I’m all on my ownio. Mum and Dave have gone for a drive with the babies; Prue and Dan are doing educational arty-crafty things with Ollie and Bella in the living room. I’ve no idea where Denis is. Probably in a damp corner somewhere, stamping on snails.

  But hang on a second, there’s someone lurking in the shrubbery. Staring through the rain-splattered glass, I see that it’s the gardener, Kit. I’m bored stiff, so I decide to brave talking to him. I wiggle my toes into my flip-flops and pull on a raincoat.

  Before stepping outside, I try to calm my racing heart by taking deep breaths. I close my eyes and press my thumb and my first finger together, hoping to channel some inner calm.

  “You look mental.”

  I peel my eyes open. Denis is standing in front of me. (His tummy is straining at the waist of his khaki shorts; it doesn’t look very comfortable.)

  “Takes one to know one,” I retort. Not very original, I know, but I’m under pressure. “Now, run along, Denis. Go and find some slugs to torture.”

  “I pref
er babies. Slugs don’t scream. I’m gonna gouge Bella’s eyes out with my spear.” He sniffs loudly before sticking a finger up his nose and twisting. Pulling it out again, he studies the tip, then wipes it on his shorts.

  “Nice,” I say. “I’m going for a walk. See you later.”

  Luckily, he doesn’t follow me. As I look around the garden for Kit, I do feel a wee bit guilty. But Seth’s in Italy. (Probably winking at Tinker Bell.) And Kit’s right here, in the rain somewhere. I gulp nervously and try to remember Clover’s advice on getting a boy to notice you. “Be yourself,” I mumble as I search the flower-beds. “Smile. Listen. Be natural. Show an interest in his hobbies.”

  I stop. Hobbies? Did we really say that? Hobbity hobbies?

  I wonder if Clover has filed the problem page yet. Hobbies sound so lame, so 1980s Girl Guide badges. Knitting is a hobby; if you’re Denis, carving sticks with a penknife is a hobby; building model yachts is a hobby. (Boys – are boys a hobby?) Music, rugby, clothes, hockey, they’re not hobbies. They’re a part of who you are. Interests, that sounds better. (Boys are definitely an interest.)

  And as my mind is clicking away, planning how to edit the agony-aunt reply and make it better, there he is, right in front of me – Kit. Forking grass clippings into one of the compost bins. He’s wearing an enormous yellow fisherman’s oilskin, laced at the neck. Underneath, I can just see the bottom of a pair of white and navy Hawaiian board shorts. Streams of water are running down his bare, muscular calves, and he has black Reefs on his tanned feet. I stare at his silver toe ring and the inky black Celtic tattoo round his ankle.