I tiptoed out into the corridor and crept out to the front. Miracle of miracles. The door was open!
I glanced behind me. No-one was about, so I opened the door and slipped out. It felt like I’d opened the door of a fridge, it was so cold out there and dark, and far away in the distant sky, I could see the Moon. As my eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, I could just about see my way. I thought back to what Selene had said last night about the word “lune” meaning mad. Yeah, I must be mad to be doing this but, whatever, I have just found my inner lunatic, I thought.
Keeping my back to the wall, I crept along until there was a window. There I fell to my knees so that, if anyone was looking out, they wouldn’t see me. I crawled through some shrubs – not easy with the stupid duvet – and down to a path that led down through some woods. Along the way, I felt a nail break. This is just the end! I thought. Can things possibly get any worse? I just pray that no-one I know ever finds out about this! Once I’d reached the path, I stood up and looked around. I couldn’t see any lights in the distance or sign of habitation at all – just the black silhouette of trees and hills as far as the eye could see. Mr O had said that it was remote, but there was bound to be something somewhere if I went far enough. There had to be.
A quick glance back to ensure that I hadn’t been spotted, then I headed for the trees.
I ran for about fifteen minutes, keeping parallel to the path leading away from the boot camp, but I made sure that I was hidden by the trees. Thank God that there’s a little bit of light from the Moon, I thought as I panted along next to the path, which seemed to go on for ever and ever without actually getting anywhere. I cursed the fact that we’d arrived in the dark last night, as if it had been daylight I might have been able to gauge exactly how far I was from people. And rescue.
I ran on, stopping for breath every now and again. It didn’t look as if anyone was following, so I slowed my pace. I so wished I had eaten that sandwich and apple last night. I was starving. I will probably die soon, I thought. Then they’ll all be sorry.
“Starving with broken nails, thanks a lot, Mum and Dad,” I yelled at the sky, then realized that maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. Someone might have heard me. I thought about all the chocolate bars I’d stashed in my suitcase and my mouth watered. I was sooooooooo hungry and thirsty. A spot of water splashed down on my face. Another spot. And another. And then the heavens opened and it began to rain.
Oh very funny, God, yeah, add to the fun and make it rain, why don’t you? I thought as I made a dash under the thickest branches I could see to shelter. But it was to no avail. It was December and the trees were bare. The duvet I had wrapped around me wasn’t waterproof, so was soon heavy with rain. A wave of anger flooded through me. Cold and hungry and thirsty in the dark and NOW WET! How could my mum and dad do this to me? I was going to die. I knew it. I was lost in the forest in the middle of nowhere. Like Little Red Riding Hood. Oh God, I hope there aren’t wolves around, I thought. Oh God oh God. I might get eaten by wild animals and then crows will come and peck at my carcass. And no-one will miss me until it’s too late. Mum and Dad think I’m at the boot camp, tucked up in my dorm, not lost in the middle of nowhere. Oh God. They’ll read about my death in the paper. Hah! THEN they’ll be doubly sorry. Oh yeah.
An image of my funeral flashed through my mind. Tigsy would be there, of course, wearing something fabulous with great big black shades. She’d be followed by Coco, whose fur would have been dyed black for the occasion. My little Coco. She’d miss me. Oh, what should I do? I asked myself. I looked to the left then to the right. In front. Where should I go? Which way? How long can a person actually last without fries and a milk-shake and a decent manicure?
I plonked myself onto the ground. I so wished I could talk to Tigsy. Or Poppy. At the thought of Poppy, I felt overwhelmingly sad. She loved me. She really did. She followed me around from the day she was born. Her big sister. Her hero. And then the very time she’d needed me most, I’d let her down. I stood up and slapped my arms to keep warm. Mustn’t think about her. Mustn’t. Mustn’t. Too too painful. And then I wondered if these were the painful feelings that Mr O had warned me about in his note, the ones that the Moon would bring up? No. No way. He couldn’t know about my sister or about what I really felt deep, deep inside.
And then I heard the roar of… what was it? Thunder? Oh no. Where there was thunder, there was lightning. I might get struck by it if the storm came closer. But no. It wasn’t thunder. It was… I could see a headlight coming up the drive. It was a motorbike. I made up my mind in an instant. I couldn’t stay out here in this weather a moment longer. I’d have to revert to plan B to escape. The fact that I hadn’t got a plan B was beside the point. I’d come up with one all in good time. For the moment though, I needed to get dry.
I hopped out of the trees and flagged down the bike. The rider slowed down and came to a stop. As I approached, I saw that it was the cute boy-babe messenger, Hermie.
“Been running away, have you?” he asked.
I nodded. “Five stars for observation.”
He ignored the sarcasm in my voice. “Ready to go back?”
A rivulet of rainwater dripped down my forehead and along my nose as I nodded again.
“Hop on,” he said.
I did as I was told and a second later, just as Hermie revved the bike, a man stepped out from behind a tree.
“WaaAHH!” I almost leapt out of my skin with fear. And then I saw that it was that idiot from last night. The one who thought the sun shone out of his backside.
“Morning, Mr O,” said Hermie.
“Morning,” replied Mr O. He looked very dapper in a fabulous long black leather coat and black baseball cap. How very Matrix, I thought as I recalled the outfits in the movie. I had to hand it to Mr O, that although clearly out of his mind, he did have a certain sense of style. Not that I was about to let him know that though. He looked as if he had a big-enough ego as it was without me paying him compliments.
“I… I… You were there, behind me, all the time? I didn’t hear you.” I said.
He flashed his grin. “I was playing a part. Don’t forget that I am an actor.”
“And which part was that, then? A tree?”
Mr O looked offended. “Of course not. I was being the invisible man. I thought I’d done it rather well.”
“Bu… why didn’t you let me know that you were there or try to stop me?”
“I had to let you get it out of your system, Leonora. You’re a Leo. A fire sign. They never take things lying down, so you were bound to try to escape at least once.”
“I wonder why? And why were you following me?”
He pointed at himself and then at me. “Me guardian, you Zodiac Girl, remember? What kind of guardian do you think I am?”
“Oh don’t start with the Zodiac Girl thing again...”
“But I have to. I am here to watch over you. Like the sun over a garden of flowers ready to bloom.”
“Erg. Pardon me while I puke,” I said. “You don’t need to bother. I don’t need you.”
Hermie took a sharp intake of breath as if I’d taken a step too far. He glanced at Mr O. I noted that the vein in his forehead was throbbing again. He looked at Hermie.
“Tough little minx, isn’t she?” he said. “Leo, Leo, lovely Leo.” He took a few deep breaths then turned to me with a cheerful expression that looked well fake. “Okay, little madam. Off you go. Go back and get dry while I go and… spread a little light around. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.” With that, he turned back off the path and disappeared into the trees muttering something about having “Never seen anything like her in my life. Ungrateful little ma...”
Seconds later, I was roaring back up the drive as the sun rose behind us. Back to the hotel from hell, I thought as I clung on to Hermie’s waist.
Chapter Eight
Brekkie
After Hermie dropped me off, I went straight to the dining area. I sooooo needed some breakfast l
ike I’d never needed breakfast before. Plus I needed to keep my strength up for later when the right moment for escape presented itself. My stomach was making strange gurgling nosies, I was so utterly starving. I’d even eat a green apple if there was one. And that wholemeal bread too, if they didn’t have croissants. But they were bound to have croissants. Everyone did.
I vaguely remembered where the dining room was from my tour with Mr O and soon found the others in there gloomily tucking into what looked like beige gloop in plastic bowls, while Selene stood behind an enormous pan on a table at the back of the room. She was dressed in a long silver dress and looked like a fairy queen and well out of place in the dismal room where the air smelt of boiled cloth. Ah, happy days, I thought as I glanced around. Not.
“Eew. What is that disgusting stuff?” I asked Jake, who was sitting nearest the door.
“Boiled glue,” he said.
“Porridge,” said Lynn.
“Tastes like glue,” said Jake and he faked his teeth being glued together by it so that he could only chew in slow motion. I almost laughed, but then remembered that I was very, very cross and unhappy.
At that moment, Dr Cronus came in and Jake immediately put his bowl on his head, made himself go cross-eyed and started making a noise like a police car. Porridge dripped down his forehead.
I almost laughed again. I could get to like Jake. Poppy would have liked him if she’d been here. One of the best things about her was that she was a giggler and always laughed easily, even when people’s jokes weren’t that funny. She’d have been on the floor at Jake’s antics.
The doctor glanced over at him, but didn’t even blink an eye.
“Most amusing, boy,” he said. “It’s not working though. I know that you’re as sane as I am.”
“Which isn’t very sane,” I whispered, “because according to Mr O, all the staff here think that they’re planets, so basically, they’ve all outluned you.”
“Umbongo banana,” said Jake and leapt up onto the table and went into a monkey impersonation. I hoped that he was still doing his madness act because, if he wasn’t, he was very weird.
Dr Cronus seemed to be counting that we were all present, then he left the room. I went over to the table where Selene was dolling out the gloop.
“I’ll have a chocolate croissant and a hot chocolate,” I said.
“Will you now? Yes. Well, that sounds nice, but we don’t have anything like that. This is all there is.” And she picked up a ladleful of porridge then let it slop back into the pan with a splot sound.
Although the gloop looked disgusting, my stomach was rumbling so much that I decided that I had to give in just this once. I had had porridge once in a hotel in Scotland and, if you put enough sugar and fruit on it, it can taste just about all right.
“Okay, give me some, but with loads of maple syrup and cream and some peaches.”
“I can’t do that,” she said. She put the lid on the pan then reached below the counter, found a plastic cup, filled it with water from the tap behind her and handed it to me.
“What’s this?”
“Your breakfast. Tap water.”
“Er, excuse me. Reality check. I don’t drink tap water. Okay, I did last night, but that was all you gave me. I don’t drink just any old brand of water, but tap water? And from a plastic cup? I only drink from china and crystal. Now cut out the antics and give me some porridge and put it in a DECENT bowl.”
“Suit yourself,” she said and put the cup back down.
“Isn’t there any hot chocolate or cappuccino or something hot?” I asked.
Mark snorted behind me.
“Get ’er,” said Marilyn and went into a mimic of me. “Oo get me an ’ot chocolate, slave. Oi, ’edley Bent. Sit down and shurrup, you poncy git.”
“You’ll get a cup of tea if you’re lucky,” said Lynn.
“I don’t want tea. I want porridge,” I said through gritted teeth, although a part of me couldn’t believe I was demanding a bowl of what looked like slug slime.
“Say please,” said Selene. “It’s nice to be nice.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please,” I said wearily. Honestly, I thought, these people, they don’t half take life seriously.
“No,” said Selene.
“No? But… I just said please.”
“Mario said no breakfast for giving him cheek earlier this morning and that you have to learn respect. It’s in your birth chart. Major lesson to learn. That and must get in touch with her real feelings and not hold everything in until there’s an explosion.”
“Oh really? You think that I must learn respect, do you? Get in touch with my feelings? I don’t think so. I’ve seen birth charts. They’re all lines and squiggles and angles in a circle. Nothing about respect and no breakfast for naughty Leos. Come on Moonface, give us a break.”
“No. Can’t. No porridge.”
Behind me, Marilyn laughed. I didn’t like being laughed at and she was beginning to annoy me. Before Selene could stop me, I lifted the lid off the porridge pan, ladled out a bowlful and scooped some up into my hand. It felt disgusting, like puréed snail and it was cold, but I didn’t care. I turned around and hurled it at Marilyn. It hit her, splat, right in the face and began to drip slowly over her forehead.
“I’ve HAD enough of you,” I said. “You might talk rot about being a murderer and you might scare some weedy stupid people, but you DON’T scare me.”
“Warghhhh, splah… wur…” Marilyn blustered through the lumpy goo. She wiped a little from her eyes while the rest slid down her cheeks and onto her navy fleece. “Right, posh ponce. You asked for it.” She stood up and was about to come towards me.
With the fingers of both my hands, I beckoned her to try it. “Bring it on,” I said as I reached in and armed myself with another handful of gunk and looked at Selene. “Hey. You said to get in touch with my feelings, Moon Girl.”
“Oh. Oh dear. I should have known,” said Selene. “New moon. At an awkward angle to Mars. People’s emotions are always heightened. There was bound to be some kind of fight. Oh. Er… come on now, dears. Play nice.”
I threw a handful of porridge over her too and watched with satisfaction as it dripped over her forehead and onto her lovely silver dress. So what? What a stupid thing to be wearing in a place like this, I thought. And anyway, she had been annoying me too, with her lovey-dovey manner, ever since the moment I’d clapped eyes on her.
“Yahay! Food fight,” yelled Jake, and in a split second he was standing next to me filling his hands with porridge.
Dr Cronus appeared at the door. “What’s all the commotion? I—” Splot. Jake hit the old man with porridge on his arm then punched the air with glee. “Result! Excellent.” Old Croniepoo dodged out of the way and out the door. Selene followed swiftly behind him.
“Chickens,” I called after them, then I tucked my hands under my arms and did a little chicken dance. Jake joined in with me.
“Bec, bec, berk, berk, perk,” we clucked.
In a flash, the others were at the table and all of them had handfuls of porridge which they were chucking at each other like it was a snowball fight. For a moment, it almost felt like fun and reminded me of a time when Poppy and I had had a food fight. It was when she was six and we’d thrown chocolate cake mix around. Even Mum and Dad joined in. That was when we were still a happy family. That was a long time ago.
Splat. Splat. Splot. Porridge was being fired everywhere.
And then we heard the door blast open and a very loud whistle.
I stopped mid hurl and glanced over to see a very angry-looking Mario standing there. He was dressed in a wet suit complete with snorkel and flippers, and he was carrying a megaphone. He looked so totally ridiculous that I burst out laughing, but the others stopped what they were doing immediately.
“STEP AWAY from the porridge,” said Mario through the megaphone. “STEP away from the porridge.”
I couldn’t stop laughing, but the others didn’t se
em to find it as funny.
“Mouldy bananas,” groaned Lynn. “There goes our hot water for the next week.”
“Yeah,” snarled Jake, then he looked in my direction. “And it’s all your fault.”
Marilyn pointed at me. “Yeah. She started it, sir. She’s the troublemaker.”
I gave a little curtsey and held up a handful of gloop. “Yeah. Because I AM ZODIAC GIRL, don’t you know? A rare honour I’m told. Anyone like to see what I do as an ENCORE?”
“Out,” commanded Mario. “All of you. Assemble in the hall.”
Jake, Mark, Lynn and Marilyn filed out. I stood my ground. I wasn’t going anywhere.
“That means you too, missy.”
“Since when did I take orders from you?”
“Since I was told that you were this month’s Zodiac Girl and I saw your chart...”
I sighed. “Oh here we go again. I told you, I don’t want to be a Zodiac Girl. I can assure it’s not the honour you think it is. Least not so far… Are the others Zodiac Girls and boys too?”
“Nope. Just you.”
“So why me?”
“It’s in your stars. You got one month here. Make the most of it. Now MOVE your sorry butt. We’re going to hose you all down in the bathroom. With ice-COLD water. That will show you.”
“Not me. No way.” I decided to show him what I could do if I had a tantrum. I could cause trouble. He’d soon see it would be in his best interests not to get on the wrong side of me. The others might be pussycats, but not this girl. Not Zodiac Girl. Ooooh no. Not me. I roared as loud as I could. Like a lion.
“ReeeeOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAR!!!”
Mr O popped his head around the door when I did that and nodded as if he approved of what he heard. “That’s my little Leo. Yes. Yes. Let it all out. Roar like a lion, Leonora. All out. Yes. Good. Fine.” And then he disappeared.
I pushed the porridge pan over; I kicked the table; I poured water out of all the cups. I hurled a chair at the wall. Roaring all the time. “I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE. YOU CAN’T MAKE ME STAY. I WON’T EAT YOUR PORRIDGE. AND I WON’T DO WHAT YOU TELL ME. AND I DON’T WANT TO BE ZODIAAAAAAAAAAAC GIRL.”
Zodiac Girls: Brat Princess Page 6