by Jean Ure
“She’s only thirteen,” I said.
“I’m sure your friend Peony will have started long before then!”
Stolidly I said, “She’s not my friend.”
“Sorry, sorry!” Caroline threw up her hands. “I forgot.”
“Em does know boys,” I said. “I just don’t know whether she’s got an actual boyfriend. She could have. She doesn’t tell me everything.”
Dad said, “She doesn’t tell me anything.”
She used to tell Cass. Em and Cass were really close.
Dad shook his head. “She’s always been the secretive sort. Hugs things to herself.”
“Unlike little Jelly Baby here.” Caroline laughed. “She’s no shrinking violet, are you?”
“Oh, Bitsy’s never been backward in coming forward,” said Dad.
“You mean Flora,” said Caroline.
Yes, I thought. Flora. Not Jelly Baby! I knew Caroline was only teasing, so I tried not to mind, though I can’t imagine anyone actually wanting to be called Jelly Baby, even just in fun.
“Anyway,” said Caroline, “don’t forget to ask Lottie about Friday.”
“I’ll text her,” I said. “She’s bound to say yes cos she’s dying to meet you!”
Lottie didn’t just say yes, she called me straight back and shrieked, “Yay! At last!”
I told her that I didn’t know what she was getting so excited about. “It’s only Caroline,” I said.
Only my role model! I couldn’t help feeling a glow of pride.
At lunch next day Lottie couldn’t stop talking about it.
“I pointed her out to my mum. Mum thinks she looks dead classy! She said she wouldn’t have thought your dad would be her type. She always says your dad looks like a mad professor! Like he’s been dragged through a hedge backwards. Mum almost didn’t recognise him,” gushed Lottie. “She said, ‘Oh look, Bitsy’s dad is wearing a suit. Doesn’t he look nice!’ I told her it was Caroline, buying him new clothes and everything. Why are you eating lettuce leaves, by the way?”
“Fancied them,” I said.
“You’re not trying to lose weight?” said Lottie.
What if I was? She didn’t have to comment. Lottie may be my very best friend, but she does have this tendency to niggle.
“Are you?” she said.
I was saved from having to reply by the sudden appearance of Peony and Zena, on their way to join the lunch queue.
“Hey!” Peony stopped. “You know those shoes your dad’s girlfriend was wearing? Were they Jimmy Choo?”
“No idea,” I said.
“I think they were!”
“They were.” Zena nodded.
“Cool!” said Peony.
She was looking at me with new respect. I couldn’t help feeling just the tiniest little bit flattered. When had the great Peony James ever condescended to take any notice of me? I knew I was being shallow, and that Em would be ashamed of me, but just now and again it is nice to bask in reflected glory. I think that is what it’s called.
Peony and Zena went on their way.
“Idiots,” said Lottie.
“Complete morons,” I said.
“My mum would have noticed if they were Jimmy Choos.”
“Whoever’s they were,” I said, “they were really expensive.”
“Yeah, well, if they were Jimmy Choos, they would be.”
Lottie speared a chunk of chicken. I watched greedily as she popped it in her mouth. Lettuce is so boring. Was I really a jelly baby? I squinted down at my tummy, trying to see if it wobbled.
“What are you doing?” said Lottie. She speared another piece of chicken. I followed it as it went into her mouth.
“D’you think I could have a taste?” I said.
Lottie’s eyes grew round. “You want some chicken?”
“I just want to see what it’s like.”
“I thought you weren’t allowed.”
“I can if I want! It’s my choice. I just want to try it.”
Doubtfully, as if she were committing some criminal act, Lottie propelled a chunk towards my mouth. “Open!”
Obediently, I did so.
“Chew!”
I chewed. I’m not really sure what I was expecting. It wasn’t like anything I’d ever had before.
“So what d’you reckon?” said Lottie.
I swallowed. “It tastes sort of … weird.”
“Don’t you like it?”
I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not sure.”
“I expect you have to get used to it,” said Lottie. “Like avocado. I hated avocado the first time I had it. I thought it was like eating a bar of soap. It’s probably the same with meat.”
“Caroline reckons we ought to have it at least once a week. She says Em should, specially, cos of looking like she’s not got enough red blood cells.”
“My mum’s always said that,” said Lottie. “She says if Em was her daughter she’d make sure she ate properly.”
I thought to myself that if Caroline couldn’t persuade Em to change her eating habits, there wasn’t much chance of Lottie’s mum being able to. Em can be unbelievably stubborn. It is what’s called sticking to your principles. I have principles! I just don’t always stick to them.
“Know what some people do?” said Lottie. “They eat insects. They cover them in chocolate and they crunch them up. I don’t know whether they eat them alive or whether they’re dead. I d—”
“Do you mind?” I said. “That’s disgusting.”
“These things happen,” said Lottie.
I said, “Loads of things happen. You don’t have to talk about them.”
Lottie cackled. “You’re just feeling guilty cos you ate some of my chicken!”
It is really annoying how just now and again Lottie manages to be right.
I was quite surprised when I got back on Friday afternoon with Lottie to find the table all laid for a proper sit-down tea. I was more used to just grabbing stuff from the fridge and rushing off upstairs with it. Cass always said, “Help yourselves! Whatever you fancy.” I wasn’t sure about sitting down at the table. I didn’t say anything, though, cos it wouldn’t have been polite – not when Caroline had gone to so much trouble.
She was there to greet us, like a mum out of a book. The sort of mum you read about, smiling as you come through the door. Cass would more likely have been out digging the garden, or watering her pot plants. Caroline was making a real effort! I decided that I would make one too.
“This is Lottie,” I said.
Caroline said, “Hello, Lottie! I’m Caroline.”
She held out her hand. Lottie immediately turned bright pink, like she wasn’t quite sure what she was supposed to do. Like perhaps she ought to curtsey. In the end she poked out a grubby paw, all covered in blue biro. Caroline laughed.
“It looks as though you’ve got a leaky pen!”
That just about did it for Lottie; even the tips of her ears were now pink. She is very easily impressed, though in fairness I have to admit that Caroline was looking extra specially cool. She was only wearing jeans and a shirt, but even I could see that the jeans were like some kind of designer label. The shirt probably was as well. Nothing Caroline wore was ever ordinary. I could see why Peony had thought she might be a model.
“OK, girls!” Caroline gestured towards the table. “Tea’s all ready. Emily!” She turned and called up the stairs. “Time for tea!”
“Oh,” I said, “is Em joining us?”
“Of course she is! I thought for once it would be nice if we could all sit down together. Even your dad said he’d try to get back in time, if he can. I do think family meals are important! How about you, Lottie? Do you sit down as a family?”
Lottie looked like she had gone into some kind of trance. I poked her.
“Well?” I said. “Do you?”
Lottie jumped. “Oh! Yes. We always eat together. Mum insists.”
“Good for her,” said Caroline.
I looked
at Lottie with narrowed eyes. I simply didn’t believe it! Lottie’s dad is a long-distance lorry driver and hardly ever there for normal mealtimes, and her brother Charlie is away at uni. She was just cosying up to Caroline!
Em came downstairs cradling Bella in her arms. Caroline said, “Emily! Cat outside, please?” She said it very nicely, like she always said everything, but somehow you just knew she expected to be obeyed. I guess it was because of being boss at her employment agency.
Em kissed Bella on top of her head. She said, “Good girl! You wait in the kitchen. I won’t be long.”
“Honestly,” said Caroline, “you’d think I was asking you to throw her out of the house! We don’t have cats in here while we’re eating,” she told Lottie. “Not when they keep jumping on the table and helping themselves to food.”
“No,” said Lottie, sounding very earnest. “My mum always said that wasn’t healthy.”
“She’s absolutely right,” said Caroline.
Lottie beamed and looked smug. She’d really got it bad!
Dad arrived just as we were sitting down.
“Ah, tea,” he said. “Lovely! What have we got? Good evening, Lottie, by the way.”
“Dad, it’s afternoon,” I said.
“Is it?” said Dad. “Well, I never! So it is.”
Lottie giggled. She and Dad were old friends.
“What’s this?” he said. “Sausage rolls?”
Cass used to do sausage rolls. Mock sausage. I said, “Yum!” and reached out for one, thinking how nice it was of Caroline to go to such trouble. She’d not only got sausage rolls, but lots of little pudding things. Trifle and chocolate and creamy fruit fools. All the kinds of stuff she normally didn’t approve of.
Confidently I bit into my sausage roll. I knew at once that it didn’t taste right. This wasn’t the sort of sausage roll that Cass made! I stared round, wild-eyed, wondering what to do.
“What is it?” said Em. “What’s the matter?”
I gulped, and then swallowed. I couldn’t help it! It was like a sort of reflex action.
“It’s not meat?” said Em. “You haven’t eaten meat?”
I nodded convulsively. Em said, “Bitsy!”
“Oh, God, I forgot,” said Caroline. “I was going to do some egg and cress sandwiches for you. Emily—”
“You’ve swallowed it,” said Em.
Guiltily I put the sausage roll down before I could be tempted to take another bite.
“Emily, I’m so sorry,” said Caroline, “but do you think you could just try it? For me? Please?”
She hadn’t really forgotten to do the sandwiches, she’d been hoping she could tempt Em into eating meat. I knew she had Em’s best interests at heart, but I could have told her it would never work.
Caroline heaved a sigh. “You’d better go and find yourself something else.”
Em, pale-faced, left the room. I didn’t know whether to follow her or not.
“You might as well finish that sausage roll now you’ve started,” said Caroline.
I only did it cos it would have been rude not to. And cos Em wasn’t there to see. Caroline shook her head.
“Donald, I’m really worried about Emily. She’s far too thin; she looks like a ghost.”
Lottie, with her mouth full of sausage roll, said, “My mum’s never thought it’s right, forcing children to be vegetarian.”
“Well, to be fair,” said Dad, “no one’s ever forced her, but I do agree she looks a bit anaemic.”
“If she’d just try it,” said Caroline. “Flora’s eating it! She doesn’t seem to have a problem.”
I nibbled furtively. Dad said, “No, well, Flora … she’s my little Jelly Baby. She’d eat anything!”
With a sly look at me across the table Lottie said, “She ate some of my chicken at lunch today.”
I kicked out at her furiously. Why did she have to go and mention that? She said afterwards that she thought it would be all right since Em was out of the room. But Caroline immediately latched on to it.
“Well, there you are then! Maybe you could talk to her, Flora?”
I said, “Me? Talk to Em?”
“Why not? You’re her sister! She’s more likely to listen to you.”
She was more likely to throw something at me. Well, no, she wouldn’t do that – she is not at all a violent sort of person. She would just give me this look, all sad and reproachful, like, Bitsy, how could you?
“Apart from anything else,” said Caroline, “it would make catering so much easier if we all ate the same things. And now that you’ve broken the ice, so to speak …” She pushed the plate of sausage rolls towards me. I hesitated, just for a moment, but then I thought of Em in the kitchen, searching for food that wasn’t dead animal, and I felt like the worst kind of traitor.
“Oh, Flora,” said Caroline, “don’t let Emily intimidate you!”
“She doesn’t,” I said. I suddenly felt very loyal towards my sister. “I feel exactly the same way she does.”
“I’m afraid it’s what they’ve got used to,” said Dad. “You’ll have to be patient.”
On Saturday, after Lottie had gone home, me and Em were going to Lewes to stay overnight with Becky and Cass. Caroline had offered to drive us, but at the last minute Em decided we ought to go by ourselves, on the train.
“Cos it’s so much greener.”
Caroline pulled a face, like, Pardon me for offering! “Do I take it your aunt Cass goes everywhere by train?”
Em said, “Only when it’s too far for her to cycle.”
“Oh my,” said Caroline. “How can one ever hope to compete?”
Dad put his arm round her. He gave her a bit of a squeeze and said, “Don’t be daft! You don’t have to.”
“I couldn’t anyway,” said Caroline. “What with eating meat and poisoning the planet with noxious fumes and—”
“Maybe you could get an electric car?” I said. “That wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Or you could try cycling,” said Em. She said it quite seriously. Em is always serious when it comes to the environment. She wasn’t being rude or anything. But this sort of look passed across Caroline’s face, like she thought Em was deliberately having a go at her.
Dad chuckled. “I can’t see Caroline on a bicycle!”
“No, and you certainly shouldn’t be allowed on one,” said Caroline. “You’d be flying over the handlebars every five minutes. Not to mention running down pedestrians!”
We all laughed at that, even Em. But somehow I just had this feeling Caroline hadn’t really been joking. She didn’t seem to like it much when me and Em talked about Cass.
Dad insisted on coming to the station to see us off. We walked there, feeling very virtuous.
“Do I get a gold star?” said Dad.
Em said, “Dad! Me and Bitsy walk further than this to school every day.”
“I suppose you do,” said Dad in tones of some wonderment, like he’d never even thought about it before. “Well, give us a call if you want us to come and pick you up. I’m not sure how good the trains are on a Sunday.”
Rather fiercely, as we waved goodbye to Dad, Em hissed, “I’d sooner walk back than ask for a lift!”
We’d been counting the days till we could see Cass again. She was waiting for us on the platform at Lewes, a familiar figure in jeans and an old parka. I shrieked, “Cass!”
Cass held out her arms and we ran into them. I hugged her just as hard as I could. “We’ve missed you so much!”
It was lovely being with Cass again, but a bit sad as well, cos already she seemed to belong more to Becky than she did to us. I had this feeling that even if Dad were to ask her to come back, she wouldn’t really want to. We just weren’t part of her everyday life any more.
On Sunday, after lunch, both Cass and Becky walked us back to the station. While Em was striding ahead with Becky, Cass asked me how things were.
“Em seems a bit troubled. Is she all right?”
“Fa
r as I know,” I said.
“There’s nothing upsetting her?”
I thought about it. “Only Caroline trying to get her to eat meat. She’s trying to get us both to eat meat, but specially Em. She says Em hasn’t got enough blood cells and that’s why she’s so pale and if she ate meat her hair would get thicker and she wouldn’t be so thin and she could dress better. Or something.”
“Ah,” Cass nodded. “I’m probably getting the blame for that, aren’t I.”
“Dad just says that Caroline’s got to be patient.”
Cass shook her head. “She’ll never talk Em into eating meat.”
“No, cos Em’s got principles,” I said. “I’ve got them too, of course.” Just because I’d had a bite of Lottie’s chicken and accidentally – and entirely by mistake – eaten a sausage roll, didn’t mean I hadn’t got principles.
“I just hope,” said Cass, “she doesn’t make herself ill.”
“You mean cos of not eating meat?”
“No! Not eating meat doesn’t make you ill. I haven’t eaten it for almost forty years and I’m doing all right, wouldn’t you say?” I nodded. Cass is one of those people that never even catches a cold. “I just hate the thought of Em being bullied.”
I assured Cass that Caroline never bullied, she just made suggestions.
“It’s cos she worries about us – well, about Em, mainly.”
“I worry about her too,” said Cass. “She’s not like you. You’re a tough little cookie!”
“Is that good?” I said.
“Well, it means you can stick up for yourself. It doesn’t necessarily mean you’re all sweetness and light! What about your dad? What does he have to say?”
I crinkled my forehead. “He doesn’t really say anything.”
“Typical,” said Cass.
“Mostly, on the whole, he agrees with her.”
“With Caroline?”
“Well – yes. Most of the time.” It was what Lottie had said – dads always sided with mums. Even when they were only stepmums. Even when they wouldn’t even be that until they were married.
“He thinks Em ought to give in?”
“No, he just thinks she looks a bit –” I waved a hand – “neemic?”
“Anaemic,” Cass sighed. “I’m sure she’s not. She’s just naturally pale-skinned. Oh dear! I wonder if I should have a word with him?”