Tony took my hand and looked at me pleadingly. I felt tears spring to the back of my eyes as I shook my head. We sat in silence again and the atmosphere felt like lead. So much for my great romantic evening, I thought. I couldn’t think of anything else to say. There wasn’t anything else to say. Tony wanted our relationship to progress and it had come to a thundering halt.
‘Guess I’d better go, then,’ I said.
Tony looked sad, but nodded in agreement. ‘I’ll walk you home,’ he said as he got up.
Nesta called at ten past eleven that night.
‘You still awake?’ she asked.
‘Well, I am now,’ I said, sleepily.
‘What happened?’
‘We broke up.’
‘What?! Why?'
‘I wouldn’t go all the way.’
‘I’ll kill him. Honest, Lucy, I had such a fright. You should have seen me. After what you said the other day about thinking about doing it with Tony, I wondered what you were up to while we were at the theatre. All the lights were off when we got home and no sign of you or Tony. I thought you might be in his room doing the deed. I wanted to give you warning that we were back and ran round switching on lights and the TV, then announcing as loud as I could outside Tony’s room that I was going to the bathroom. Mum and Dad thought I was on drugs or something.’
‘Had Tony gone to bed?’
‘Yeah. I knocked at first in case you were still in there hiding in the wardrobe or something, then, when I realised that you’d gone, I asked where you were. He just muttered, "Gone." When I tried to get more out of him, he told me to go away and shut the door. So, did you really break up?’
‘Yeah. We did. The sex thing came up and I decided I wasn’t ready.’
‘Because of Candice?’
‘Sort of. Partly. Plus . . . I don’t know, I’d been thinking about it a lot over the last few days. I know not everyone gets pregnant and I know loads of other girls at our school have done it, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to be one of them. It all began to feel so complicated and serious. I wasn’t at all sure what I was feeling and why I was considering going ahead with him. Was it because I was feeling pressured or because I wanted to do it? Plus all the birth control, STD stuff to think about. I don’t know, Nesta. No way am I ready for all that.’
‘So you’re still a virgin?’
‘Pure as.’
‘Are you OK?’
‘Yeah. I will be.’
‘I think he’s a total creep dumping you because you won’t put out.’
‘No. It wasn’t just that. It really wasn’t. He’s probably right. He’s eighteen. I can’t blame him for wanting to take things further. It’s more like . . . I don’t know, bad timing. He wanted one thing for us, I wanted something else. It wasn’t working any more. I’ll be OK. It’s not like he dumped me because he was bored and had gone off me. To tell you the truth, he looked gutted.’
‘I still want to kill him.’
‘Look, I want to go to sleep now. See you in school tomorrow.’
‘OK. Night.’
Actually, I didn’t want to go to sleep. I wanted to think about what had happened. It felt weird. I wasn’t sure how I felt. Sad of course, but another part of me felt relieved, like I’d had a close escape. Tony and I had been going with each other on-off for over a year and the sex thing was always at the back of everything, like an unspoken pressure. As Izzie said, a chore on my must-do list. I felt relieved that, for the first time in ages, I had a reprieve. I didn’t have to think about any of it for a while – no condoms, no contraception, no planning the right time or place. As I snuggled down in my duvet, I decided I wouldn’t be all freaked out about it, like oh, I’ve been dumped. I’ve been dumped, poor me. I would move on. I would be positive. Make a new start. All the same, it felt strange. Life without Tony. I was a singleton again.
I got out of bed, got down on my knees and rooted round at the bottom of my wardrobe to find Mr Mackety, my old teddy bear.
‘It’s you and me again, pal,’ I said, as I found him, then got back into bed with him for a cuddle.
Comforts for the Newly Single
Chocolate
Ice cream
Comedy movies
Getting out your old teddy bear
Mates
Chapter 7
Lal and the Lawyer
‘I put salt in his coffee this morning,’ said Nesta on the way into assembly the next morning. ‘You should have seen his face. Served him right.’
‘Yeah,’ said Izzie. ‘And you could sew a few fresh prawns into his duvet and wait for them to go off. He’ll be looking everywhere for the smell.’
I laughed, but I didn’t think Tony deserved that. I still liked him and he had looked upset at us breaking up. I didn’t want him to suffer. ‘Give him a break, Nesta. He was being honest, that’s all.’
TJ linked her arm through mine. ‘Not all boys are like that. You got to move on, Luce. Find a boy who isn’t only after one thing.’
‘Do they exist?’ I asked.
‘Yeah. Course,’ said Izzie. ‘Loads of them.’ She didn’t look convinced, however.
‘Yeah. Boys will be queuing up for you,’ said TJ.
I didn’t care. I didn’t want another boy or another relationship. In fact, I wondered if I’d made a huge mistake last night. Tony must have thought I was such a baby. And pretending to be a teapot? How mad was that? What had I been thinking of? I felt empty. An empty teapot. What if I never found another boy I liked as much? What if I did find a boy and he turned out to be the same as Tony and I was destined to play out the same scene with the wandering hands over and over again? Were all boys only after one thing? And what if Tony started dating soon and I had to hear about it from Nesta? How would it be when I saw him round at her house? As TJ, Nesta and Izzie tried to make me laugh by coming up with more and more outrageous ways of making Tony’s life miserable, I found I couldn’t join in. I didn’t want to talk about him any more.
‘From now on, I declare this a Tony-free zone,’ I said. ‘Let’s talk about something else apart from boys, boys, boys.’
Big mistake, I thought, as they all started chatting about their forthcoming trip to Florence. What they were going to take? What outfits? The galleries and museums that they’d be visiting. I couldn’t help but feel envious. I so wished I was going with them, but I knew that there was no way. Sometimes life sucks, I thought. They’re all going to be off in Italy and I’m going to be home alone with a stuffed toy, watching holiday programmes and wishing I was there.
After school, I raced home as fast as I could as I wanted to make a treat for Lal when he got back. It was the day that he and Mum were going to see Mrs Finkelstein’s solicitor and I was worried about what might have happened. I wanted to have something special waiting for him to cheer him up in case it was bad news. I decided to make him his favourite – cheese and tuna melt with a dash of chilli sauce.
I hadn’t been back long and had just let the dogs out into the garden when I heard keys in the front door.
‘How did it go?’ I asked, going out to the hall.
Lal looked at the floor and sighed. ‘Bad,’ he said. ‘Really bad. I have to go to court next week and maybe have to go to prison. The solicitor said I might get five years!’
‘What!’ I gasped. ‘But why? What did you do?’
Lal sank on to the stairs and put his head in his hands. ‘It’s too awful.’
Mum slapped Lal lightly over the head. ‘You stop that. No, he’s not going to prison, Lucy. Nothing like it. He’s winding you up. But there is news. Some bad, some good. Is your dad home? And Steve?’
I nodded. ‘Dad’s out the back in the garage and Steve’s in his room. Why? What’s happening?’
‘Call Steve down, will you, Lucy?’ asked Mum as she took her coat off. ‘And I’ll get your dad. Lal and I have got something to tell you.’
What on earth could it be? I wondered, as I took the stairs two at a time to get Steve
.
Five minutes later, we were all gathered around the kitchen table. Even Ben and Jerry had sensed that something was going on and scraped at the back door to come in from the garden. Steve got up to let them in and Ben ran in and came to sit with his head resting on my knees while Jerry took his place next to him, his head resting on Lal’s.
‘Right,’ said Mum. ‘Everyone’s here. Anyone want a cuppa tea and a bicky before we tell you? I’m famished.’
'Mum,’ I groaned. ‘If you wait another second, I swear I’m going to explode. What’s happened?’
Mum looked round at all of us. ‘What do you want first? The good or the bad news?’
‘Bad news,’ said Dad. ‘Let’s get that over with.’
‘OK,’ said Mum. ‘The bad news is that Mrs Finkelstein died just after Christmas.’
Lal couldn’t contain himself any longer. ‘And the good news is that she left me some money.’
‘How much money?’ asked Steve.
Lal beamed back at him. ‘Rather a lot, actually.’
‘Yes. But there is a condition,’ said Mum.
After about five minutes, I was wrestling Steve for the phone. Both of us wanted to phone round and tell our mates the good news. He won so I raced upstairs to use my mobile. I couldn’t wait to tell Nesta, Izzie and TJ.
‘How much?’ gasped Izzie.
‘Fifty grand. Yeah. I know. Amazing isn’t it? It’s like winning the lottery.’
‘And it’s from Mrs Finkelstein? I can hardly believe it. Remember when we used to think she was a witch?’
‘More like a good fairy it turns out. Apparently she was totally loaded. Like mega doshed up. She left most of her money to a cat charity, apart from this one bit to Lal. I’m so happy I could dance.’
‘Yeah, but she left it to Lal.’
‘I know. But on the way home, he had a chat with Mum and later Dad said it was OK as well. He wants to give every member of our family two grand each as a special pressie. The rest Mum and Dad want him to put in a savings account to see him through college. That’s going to be brilliant as well, as Mum and Dad have been trying to put money by ready for when we all go to uni or college or whatever and I don’t think they’ve managed to save much at all.’
‘So what are you going to do with yours? Savings account?’
‘Some,’ I replied, ‘but isn’t it obvious what I’m going to do with the rest?’
‘Hire a killer for Tony?’
‘No, dummy. Think.’
‘Oh yeah! Course! Florence.’
‘Yessss! And I know that those spare places are still going as I heard Miss Watkins telling someone this afternoon.’
‘Brilliant. Oh Lucy, that will be so top. It wouldn’t have been the same going without you. Now our whole gang will be there.’
‘I’m going to phone TJ now and tell her. Will you phone Nesta for me? I don’t want to risk Tony answering. I’m not ready to play out that scene yet.’
‘Yeah, course.’
Next I called TJ. Like Izzie, she was over the moon when I told her the news and realised that I could go to Italy with them.
‘So what’s the condition on Lal getting the money?’
‘He has to look after Mrs Finkelstein’s cat. It’s so funny as we were all worried that Lal’d done something to upset her when, all along, she’d put him in her will. Dunno how Ben and Jerry are going to feel about having an old cat around but, hey, no one’s going to say no to fifty grand are they? We’ll get them some luxury dog food or something to soften the blow.’
‘But why did she leave it to Lal?’
‘He used to talk to her cat on his way home from school sometimes. She must have seen him and clocked it. Lal’s a real softie on the quiet you know, especially where animals are concerned. He buys dog food with his pocket money sometimes and leaves it out for the fox. Since we got wheelie bins in our neighbourhood, Lal has been worried that foxie couldn’t get leftovers from the rubbish any more. But Florence, I’m coming to Florence. It’s amazing, isn’t it?’
‘Totally,’ said TJ. ‘Just shows that you never know what’s round the next corner.’
‘But we do this time. Florence!’
Life is full of surprises, I thought after she’d hung up. Only this morning, I’d thought there was no way, no how I could go on the school trip and now, not even twenty-four hours later, everything’s changed. Not only can I go, but I’ll have some spending money as well. Perfect, perfect way to get over Tony. Viva, I’m off to sunny . . . um,. . . Italy, viva um, Italia.
Revenge Ideas
Sewing fresh prawns into his duvet. Nesta
Sewing up the ankles of his trousers. TJ
Tie his shoelaces together. Lucy
I don’t think revenge is good for the soul. Forgiveness is better.
But then, if I was pushed for a suggestion, I reckon you can’t beat getting hold of his mobile phone, then phoning the automatic time in Hong Kong. Izzie
Chapter 8
Take-off
‘Passport?’ asked Nesta.
‘Check,’ chorused Izzie,TJ and I.
‘Lip-gloss.’
‘Check,’ we chorused again.
‘Condoms.’
I hit Nesta over the head.‘No, definitely not. No condoms. I don’t want to see them, hear about them or think about them for some considerable time. Or boys for that matter. Time off. I’m having a holiday from all that stuff.’
Nesta pulled a face. ‘Yeah sure, until you meet some cutenik on the plane . . .’
‘Nope. I’m serious. Not interested.’
I looked out of the coach window at the dark February morning. I didn’t care that it was wet and gloomy or an unearthly time to be up on a Saturday. I didn’t care that we were stuck in traffic. We were on the M4 heading for Heathrow airport. On our way. I felt so excited. I’d hardly slept a wink last night thinking about it. Italy. It was actually happening. A whole week in Florence with my mates. OK, so our teachers, Mrs Elwes and Mr Johnson, and twenty-one other pupils were with us, but that didn’t matter. A week without school, sharing a room with TJ, Izzie and Nesta. Bliss. I’d never been to Europe before. I’d never even been on a plane before, as our family usually took holidays in England in Devon or on the south coast somewhere. This was to be my first time abroad. As we turned off the motorway on to the exit for the airport, I heard a roar to my left: a plane was taking off, up, up and over the cars on the motorway and into the sky.
And then it hit me. In about two hours, I would be on one of those great metal contraptions. Strapped into a seat. My first time. I made myself breathe. I can’t do it, I thought as I felt myself go hot, then cold. I can’t. It’s not natural. I mean, how does a thing that size and that weight even get off the ground? Suddenly the floodgates in my head opened and every bad news story about planes from the past five years decided to replay in my head. Oh not now, not now please, I told myself. No. I’m cool. I must be cool. The others will think I’m a big scaredypants if I suddenly announce that I’m frightened of flying.
‘You OK, Luce?’ asked TJ. ‘You’ve gone kind of quiet.’
‘Um, yeah. Just thinking . . .’
‘Aren’t you excited?’
‘Yeah. Yeah. Course, I will be when we get there, but . . . but I’ve never flown before and . . .’
‘Piece of cake,’ said Nesta. ‘No worries. Lovely, up in the air and the clouds beneath you. Fab.’
‘How high up exactly?’ I asked.
‘About thirty-five thousand feet.’
I felt myself shiver. Oh dear, that’s high, I thought. And once you’re in and up, no chance of getting out. It’s not like the Tube or the bus where you can get off at the next stop if you feel wobbly
TJ reached over and put her hand on mine. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I used to be scared of flying, but statistics show that it’s safer than crossing the road. I read that somewhere. The journey’s only a few hours. We’ll be there before you know it.’
&n
bsp; I attempted a weak smile back. ‘Hope so,’ I said.
The airport was heaving with people of every age, shape and nationality. Some irate and in a hurry, some looking apprehensive like me, others stretched wearily over chairs checking the monitor about delayed flights, others aimlessly wandering about clutching their hand luggage and waiting for their flight call. People eating, drinking, shopping, changing money, spending. I’m glad I’m travelling with a group, I thought, as Mrs Elwes led us to the check-in desk. The number of people travelling was overwhelming. I think I’d have found it all too much on my own.
At the check-in, an old couple were causing a commotion, as they didn’t seem to know what they were doing or where they should be.
‘What airline are you flying with?’ asked the flight attendant behind the desk.
‘Pardon?’ the old lady shouted. ‘You’ll have to speak up, I’m a bit deaf.’
‘Airline?’ repeated the flight attendant. The old lady looked confused so the flight attendant raised her voice. ‘WHO ARE YOU FLYING WITH?’
At this the old lady smiled and pointed to an even more ancient looking man with her. ‘UNCLE BERNARD,’ she shouted back.
I got the giggles and Mrs Elwes turned round and frowned at me. Luckily, the old couple finally realised what the flight attendant was really asking and soon our group was checked in, our luggage labelled and sailing away on a conveyer belt.
After that, it was through Passport Control and security where Mr Johnson was stopped and searched. At the sight of the young female security officer feeling up and down our bald and bespectacled teacher’s trouser legs, our whole group started giggling.
‘Probably the most fun he’s had in years,’ whispered Nesta.
‘I hope you girls are going to behave on this trip,’ said Mrs Elwes, trying to shush us up by waving her hands, but I could see that she was having a hard time not cracking up as well.
Mates, Dates and Great Escapes Page 4