‘Well I hope you’re doing it properly, Izzie. A lot of people change their diet but don’t eat the right sorts of foods. You need plenty of grains, lentils, that sort of thing . . .’
Yurgh, I thought, no way I’m eating lentils. But I wasn’t really listening as Mr L carried on about nutrients and soya products. I wanted to get going, cruising the hall and looking for Mark.
‘Do you know where the stalls selling essential oils are?’ I asked.
‘Over by the back wall,’ said Mr L. ‘I think they’ve put all that sort of thing together so people can find them easily.’
‘Brill, thanks,’ I said. ‘See you later.’
We made our way over to the area he’d said and I made sure that Lucy, Nesta and I were laughing so that if Mark saw me, he’d see what a good time I was having and realise what a fun person I am.
‘What did Good King Wenceslas say when he phoned the Pizza Hut and they asked what he wanted?’ I asked.
‘What?’ said Lucy.
‘The usual – deep pan, crisp and even,’ I replied, throwing my head back in what I thought was an attractive manner and laughing.
Nesta and Lucy looked at me a bit oddly.
‘You OK, Izzie?’ asked Lucy.
‘Oh yes,’ I said, laughing hysterically. ‘It’s just sooo funny.’
Lucy and Nesta exchanged worried looks.
‘She’s cracking up,’ said Nesta.
‘Literally,’ said Lucy.
When we got to the aromatherapy area, I suddenly got the most awful attack of butterflies.
‘What if he didn’t phone on purpose? Didn’t want to see me?’
‘Oh come on,’ said Nesta, dragging me into the aisle. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’
We started looking at the first stall. The man behind it was bald and in his fifties. The second stall was run by a couple of middle-aged ladies. Third stall, another man. Fourth stall, two young girls.
‘Can you remember what brand of oils Mark’s mum sold?’ asked Lucy. ‘Any of these could be his stall and he hasn’t arrived yet.’
‘No,’ I groaned as I looked up the aisle. ‘And any one of these people could be his mum or his dad.’
By the time we got to the end of the aisle, we’d seen about twelve stalls, some selling oils, some bath lotions, some burners, some books. But there was no sign of Mark.
‘We’re going to have to do the whole hall,’ sighed Nesta. ‘Maybe his mum’s stall has been put somewhere else.’
I looked around. The hall was enormous; there had to be about three hundred, if not more, different stalls.
‘It’s going to take ages,’ I said. ‘Look, why don’t we split up? We’ve all got our mobiles. If you see him, call. If not, meet at the big clock at about one o’clock.’
‘OK,’ said Lucy. ‘Let’s synchronise watches.’
We all checked our watches.
‘Right, let’s go,’ said Nesta.
This wasn’t part of my plan. Now the chances were he’d spot me on my own like some desperate saddo, wandering about looking for him. I began to think perhaps I shouldn’t have gone at all.
As I searched my area, I couldn’t help but be drawn into what was on sale. Really good stuff. I bought some organic bread and muesli, then a rose quartz pendant for my mum. I decided I’d wear it just for the afternoon as the lady selling them told me that the stones soothe the nervous system and dispel fear. Just what I need at the moment, I thought, as each time I turned a corner the butterflies came back. I also bought a book on Feng Shui and thought I could do my bedroom when I got home.
I was just talking to a man about some detox potion when my phone rang. My heart lurched. Lucy or Nesta must have spotted Mark.
‘I’m going to the clock,’ said Nesta. ‘I’ve looked everywhere and there’s no sign of the culprit.’
My heart sank. I looked at my watch. An hour had gone by already.
‘No show,’ said Lucy when I got to the clock. ‘Why don’t we go and get a hot chocolate?’
We wandered to the snack bar where I bought the girls chocolates to thank them for their efforts and got myself a herb tea.
‘Ergh,’ said Nesta, smelling the cup. ‘How can you drink that stuff? It smells like washing-up water.’
I took a sip and had to agree but I was determined to stay with my new regime no matter what.
‘I don’t think he’s coming,’ I said. ‘So much for Venus being well aspected today.’
‘It’s not over yet,’ said Lucy. ‘Don’t give up on him just yet.’
‘No,’ said Nesta. ‘Do give up. I reckon it’s when you give up that things happen.’
‘Thanks a lot! Give up, don’t give up . . .’ I laughed. ‘Rotten pair of agony aunts you two would make.’
‘Let’s just enjoy being here for a while,’ said Nesta. ‘Forget all about Mark for now.’
‘Don’t have much choice, do I?’ I said.
We spent the next couple of hours having a good wander and trying out all the different things on offer. Nesta had an Indian head massage and Lucy and I had a reflexology session which was really nice but Lucy ended up giggling as she said it tickled. Best was a massage chair which you sat in and it massaged up and down your back with rollers. It was wonderful and any other day I would have loved being at the fair, but I couldn’t help feeling disappointed. Mark hadn’t phoned and he hadn’t come. The first time I see a boy I like and I don’t even get the chance to get to know him and dazzle him with my brilliant personality.
‘Maybe something’s happened to him,’ I said. ‘Perhaps he’s had an accident.’
‘Perhaps he’s just a boy,’ said Nesta. ‘Unreliable. Forget him.’
‘And I have to go soon,’ said Lucy. ‘I have to get ready for tonight.’
‘Me too,’ grinned Nesta.
‘Why? Where are you going?’ I asked.
‘Baby-sitting.’
‘You baby-sitting? Why?’ I asked. I knew Nesta didn’t need to earn extra pocket money as her parents gave her a very generous allowance. There had to be an ulterior motive.
‘Yeah, me baby-sitting,’ she said. ‘For our next-door neighbour.’
‘And?’ I asked.
‘And,’ said Nesta, ‘it just happens that their oldest son Nathan will be back for the weekend from university.’
‘Why can’t he baby-sit?’ asked Lucy.
‘He’s going to some concert in town,’ explained Nesta. ‘That’s why I said I’d do it. I want to see him before he goes.’
‘Why? Do you fancy him?’ asked Lucy.
‘Nah,’ said Nesta. ‘But he does go to university in Scotland. And a young man I have my eye on will be studying there. I’m hoping Nathan’ll get to know him and introduce me.’
‘This is the first you’ve told us,’ I said. ‘What young man?’
‘James Parker Henson,’ said Nesta.
‘Isn’t his dad one of the richest men in England?’ asked Lucy. ‘I saw him in one of my glossy mags.’
‘Yeah,’ said Nesta. ‘And why not? You have to aim high.’
‘And what have you got to offer?’ asked Lucy.
‘My fabulous company and sense of style,’ said Nesta with a grin.
Despite my disappointment at not seeing Mark, I had to laugh. If there’s one thing Nesta’s not short of, that’s confidence.
After the girls had gone, I mooched around for a while by myself, looking for Christmas presents for Lucy and Nesta. With still an hour to kill before the end of the fair, I had a henna tattoo done on my ankle. A delicate bracelet of leaves, it looked really cool.
‘I hope my mum doesn’t freak out too much,’ I said to the woman painting it on.
‘Oh don’t worry. They only last a few weeks, then if you want it done again, you can come to our shop in Kentish Town and have it redone. Or pick another design.’
‘Fab,’ I said, then had an idea. I could buy Nesta and Lucy one for Christmas. They’d love them.
‘I
don’t understand why people have permanent ones done,’ continued the woman, ‘when they can get one of these instead. They look just as good. And tastes change. If it’s permanent, you can’t do much about it except laser it off, which can be painful and expensive.’
After my tattoo, I bought a toe-ring and some organic chocolate, then some love charms from a rather strange woman on another stall. By now, most of the stallholders were packing up and the crowds were beginning to disperse.
He’s not coming, I thought. I might as well go.
Feeling let down and dejected, I changed back into my long skirt and made my way out of the hall and down the hill to the bus stop.
Get a grip, I told myself as I sat on the bus. It’s not like you even know Mark. In fact, to tell the truth, I couldn’t even remember what he looked like very clearly. I’d got myself in a state about nothing. I decided to think about a new song. Making up lyrics always makes me feel better and I decided I’d think about a subject far removed from boys and love and heartache. At the beginning of term, we had a class about all the countries in the world that didn’t have enough to eat. I told Lucy I was going to write a song for Africa and as I sat on the bus thinking about it, words started buzzing round my head.
By the time the bus reached my stop, I was feeling more like my old self. I’d finish my song when I got home, I decided, then watch a soppy DVD with my bar of organic chocolate. Perfecto. Boys! Phfff! Who needs ’em?
As I walked past the shops towards our road, I noticed a bunch of lads walking towards me. They were all dressed in muddy football gear and I decided I’d cross the road to avoid them. I knew what boys could be like in a group when they see a girl on her own and I wasn’t in the mood for any comments, even nice ones. Then my heart stopped. One of the boys was Mark.
What should I do? Oh God. They were getting closer. I couldn’t resist. I’d stay on that side of the road and see what he did.
The gang of lads walked past all engrossed in some conversation about the game they’d just played. I looked straight at Mark, waiting to see how he’d respond.
I couldn’t believe it. He blanked me.
I carried on walking, feeling numb. He’d blanked me. Oh God. I couldn’t wait to get home to my bedroom where I could hide.
As I turned the corner into our road, I heard footsteps running behind me.
I hurried my own pace. It was dark, and by now I was desperate to get home. I leaped as a hand grabbed my shoulder.
I swung round, ready to kick as hard as I could.
It was Mark.
‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Don’t I know you from somewhere?’
From somewhere? I thought. He doesn’t even know who I am, the creep.
‘The Lock, last Saturday,’ I said.
‘Sorry about back then on the road,’ he said. ‘I didn’t want to let on I knew you as all my mates would start asking questions and, well, you know how it can be . . .’
I didn’t, but I was beginning to soften. He was even better-looking than I remembered, even though he was splattered in mud and his hair was all over the place. Gorgeous eyes with silky long lashes.
He grinned sheepishly. ‘I was supposed to phone you, wasn’t I? About the fair.’
‘Were you?’ I said. ‘I don’t remember.’
‘Yeah. You gave me your card. Pretty turquoise one with silver writing.’
So he did remember.
He dived in his sports bag and pulled out a wallet.
‘See? I’ve got it here.’
‘Got a pen?’ I said, trying to stay as cool as possible.
‘No.’
‘No matter, I’ve got one,’ I said, quickly rooting round in my bag. I took my card back from him and scribbled my new number on it. ‘One of the numbers has changed. I got a new mobile since I made those cards.’
‘Oh, right,’ he said, taking the card and putting it back in his wallet. ‘Anyway, did you go? To Ally Pally?’
‘No,’ I lied. I wasn’t about to let on I’d spent the day looking for him. ‘Did you go?’ I asked.
‘Nah,’ he said. ‘My sister said she’d do the stall with Mum for me. She loves all that kind of thing.’ He shifted awkwardly then smiled widely. ‘Look. Sorry I didn’t call. This week’s been mad. How about I give you a call next week and we go out sometime?’
My heart leaped. He was interested. I shrugged, not wanting to appear too easy. ‘Yeah, maybe,’ I said.
At that moment, his mates appeared at the end of the road, ‘Oi, Mark, you coming or what?’ one of them yelled.
‘Look, Izzie Foster, got to go. I’ll call you. Promise.’ And with that he ran off.
I felt stunned. He even remembered my name. So my horoscope was right after all. Venus was well aspected, even if it took its time to get going. And Nesta was right too. When you give up, things do start happening.
Song for Africa
by Izzie Foster
Cracked lips, parched land,
Dusty promises of help at hand.
Hungry children on Christmas cards
Won’t help a world that’s growing too fast.
I just wish it would rain on Africa.
But storm clouds gathering won’t bring relief,
Just darker days with no hope of peace in Africa.
I just wish it would rain on Africa.
Wash out the pain of Africa.
Guns and bombs, tears and mud,
Luxury limos race through blood.
But bound by debt to hopelessness
Can we ever clean this mess?
I just wish it would rain on Africa.
Wash out the pain of Africa.
Chapter 6
Love Spells
Cool. I am the queen of it. I consulted my horoscope and it said the week would get off to a slow start but things would start moving again on Friday. And Venus was in a good place for a romantic weekend. Fab. Sounded like Mark would phone at the end of the week and I’d see him on Saturday or Sunday.
The week at school flew by and it was such a relief not to be in a flap about waiting for the phone. He’d promised he’d ring, and as Nesta said, you have to give them time.
However, by Friday the same old feelings were beginning to creep back.
‘So what exactly did he say?’ asked Lucy.
‘That he’d call next week.’
‘Well that could be any day till Sunday,’ said Nesta. ‘Chill.’
It was all right for her, she didn’t fancy anyone special. And whenever she did have her eye on someone, they always seemed to call. Lucy, on the other hand, was anything but chilled. Her date with Tony had gone really well and she was seeing him again that evening after school. She was so excited.
‘Though he still keeps saying I might be a bit young for him,’ she said.
‘Probably because he wants to grope you,’ said Nesta. ‘And knows I’ll kill him if he does.’
‘No,’ insisted Lucy. ‘He’s not like that, honest.’
Nesta looked at me and raised an eyebrow. She clearly had her doubts and I have to say, I shared her concern.
I dashed home on Friday night and waited for the call. I kept busy watching ‘EastEnders’, then a DVD but by nine thirty, I was beginning to think Mark wasn’t going to call.
I rang Lucy and asked her to phone both our home phone and my mobile to check that both were working.
The downstairs phone rang a minute later.
‘Home phone working,’ said Lucy. ‘I’ll try the mobile now.’
A moment later my mobile rang. ‘Lucy again,’ she said. ‘It looks like it’s all in order. And Izzie, have you got a minute? I need to talk to you.’
It suddenly occurred to me that Mark might be trying to get through at just that moment so I didn’t want to have a long conversation.
‘Can it wait?’ I asked. ‘Mark might be trying to get through.’
‘OK,’ she said, sounding disappointed. ‘I’ll talk to you tomorrow but not when Nesta’s around. OK?
’
After she put the phone down I felt a bit rotten as I remembered she was supposed to have seen Tony after school. She probably wanted to talk about that and didn’t feel she could open up with Nesta there seeing as he’s her brother. I hoped she was OK and made a mental note to make it up to her tomorrow.
There was nothing else on TV I wanted to watch so I got out my love charms from the fair and decided to try one out to see if that would help the phone to ring.
‘Charm to make a boy sweet on you,’ I read. ‘Write your love’s name on a piece of paper, then sprinkle it with sugar and put it under your pillow and sleep on it.’
I found a piece of purple writing paper and thought that would be the best to use, as purple is a magical colour. I wrote Mark’s name on it in a heart then went down to the kitchen and rooted in the cupboards for sugar.
Brown or white? I wondered. Does it matter? I settled for the brown and sprinkled it liberally on my paper. Luckily Mum and Angus were next door watching TV, as they would think I was barking if they’d caught me.
I took my charm back upstairs and put it under my pillow. Immediately the phone rang. Amazing. It worked! I dashed down to the hall to answer it.
‘Is Dad there?’ said Claudia’s voice.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’ll get him. But don’t be long, I’m expecting an important phone call.’
I hovered on the upstairs landing as Angus took his call. Ten minutes! Mark could have been trying to get through and Claudia would have ruined everything. What we clearly needed in our house was Call Waiting, so that you could tell if someone was trying to get through when you were on the line. I must put it on my Christmas list, I thought, along with a lock for my bedroom door.
After they’d finished talking I went back into my bedroom to read but I couldn’t really concentrate as my mind spiralled into maybes again. Maybe this time he really had lost my number. Maybe, maybe, maybe, zzzzz.
I must have dozed off at some point because the next thing I knew, it was Saturday morning and my mobile was ringing.
Oh thank God, I thought as I picked it up.
‘Izzie, it’s me,’ said Nesta. ‘Has Mark called yet?’
Mates, Dates and Cosmic Kisses Page 4