‘It would help her out a lot,’ Mum says, then she pulls me into a hug, pressing my face into her hair and I smell the sandalwood incense she loves so much.
I put up with it for a moment then wriggle out of her arms. ‘OK,’ I say.
Mum’s face lights up. ‘What would I do without you?’
Over Mum’s shoulder, I see Elsa crawl towards the edge of the sofa, reaching for Pongo’s tail. ‘Mum!’ I say, but already Elsa is losing her balance. She wobbles for a second then tumbles forward, landing on the floor with a thud.
There’s this moment of silence before the screaming starts. Mum darts across the room and scoops Elsa up. ‘Poor baby!’ she says, showering her with kisses. Pongo jumps up and tries to stick his pointy nose between them.
‘I’m going now,’ I say, but they don’t hear me. Now Pongo’s been pulled into the hug too and his excited barks rise over Elsa’s screams. I slip out of the flat and shut the door behind me.
Immediately, I’m hit by the quiet, the bright cold air and the view.
Our flat might be small and damp, but it’s got the best view in town. I stand on the balcony and look from the houses of the estate to my school. Beyond school, I see the hotels, the sea and the pier. Then I look up at the sky, higher and higher, until I find the moon. It’s a white smudge that’s disappearing fast.
I turn and run down the concrete stair way, my feet ringing out with each step.
I’ve got to get to school. I’ve got so much to do.
THREE
School’s good. I get one hundred per cent in a maths test, finally learn how to conjugate German verbs and spend lunchtime in the library researching my favourite star, Alpha Centauri B.
When I know the canteen will be quiet, I go and get some lunch. It looks like almost everyone’s been chucked out, but some students from my year – Bella Lofthouse and her friends – are still sitting round a table while the lunchtime supervisors clean up. As I walk past, they glance over at me, and I see Bella’s lips curve up in a smile. Quickly, I turn away. Bella is always laughing with her friends and she finds me particularly funny. The longer I hang around the more likely it is that she’ll say something to me and somehow I’ll end up looking stupid. I grab the first sandwich I see – egg mayonnaise – pay for it, then walk straight out of the canteen.
It’s at times like this that I miss Harriet. She was my best friend at school. OK, she was my only friend in or out of school, but that didn’t matter because we were soul mates, and we did everything together – walking to school, eating lunch, talking for hours on the phone, sleepovers … Harriet even went camping with me and Mum every summer. Then, one day, she told me that her mum and dad were talking about moving to New Zealand. Five months later, she was gone.
When a huge star dies, there is a massive explosion, a supernova, and later, all that’s left is a dark, dense black hole where no light can get in or out. From brilliant lightness to total darkness: that’s what it felt like when Harriet left.
When I got over the shock of her going and looked around me, there didn’t seem to be a place for me anywhere: everyone else was paired up or in groups. I did try to talk to people, wriggle into their conversations, but Harriet had always done the talking for both of us and I was out of practice. Plus, like I said, I was shocked when she went and feeling a bit like a dark, dense black hole.
Who wants to be friends with a dark, dense black hole? No one!
All that darkness has gone now, but the friend-making moment seems to have passed by. Which is why, right now, I’m leaning against the wall by the girls’ toilets eating an egg sandwich all on my own.
Like I said. Sometimes I miss Harriet.
Also by JENNY McLACHLAN
FLIRTY DANCING
LOVE BOMB
SUNKISSED
STAR STRUCK
STARGAZING FOR BEGINNERS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Before Jenny started writing books about the Ladybirds (Bea, Betty, Kat and Pearl), she was an English teacher at a large secondary school. Although she loved teaching funny teenagers (and stealing the things they said and putting them in her books), she now gets to write about them full-time. When Jenny isn’t thinking about stories, writing stories or eating cake, she enjoys jiving and running around the South Downs. Jenny lives by the seaside with her husband and two small but fierce girls.
Twitter: @JennyMcLachlan1
Instagram: jennymclachlan_writer
www.jennymclachlan.com
Bloomsbury Publishing, London, Oxford, New York, New Delhi and Sydney
First published in Great Britain in March 2018 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
50 Bedford Square, London WC1B 3DP
This electronic edition published in January 2018
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Copyright © Jenny McLachlan 2018
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ISBN 978 1 4088 7974 0
eISBN 978 1 4088 7974
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Truly, Wildly, Deeply Page 19