by Jean Ure
“That’s Millie over there,” I said. “I never used to go on buses till I met her. Now I do it all the time.”
“It’s nice to be independent, isn’t it?” said Zach.
I agreed that it was. And then at that point we both came to a halt and didn’t seem to know how to go on.
“Really,” I said, “it wouldn’t be any trouble coming by bus.”
“If you did,” said Zach, “I’d take you back home again afterwards.”
I was doing my beacon act again. I could feel the waves of heat radiating off me.
“Oh, but you wouldn’t have to do that,” I said.
“I’d like to, though,” said Zach.
There was a pause. We seem to have stopped again. I glowed madly.
“So—”
We both spoke at the same time.
“After you!”
Zach got in just ahead of me. I wished he hadn’t cos I couldn’t really think of anything to say. I opened my mouth and made a sort of um noise, like, “Um…”
“I’ve promised I’ll take him up the park tomorrow,” said Zach. “If the weather’s OK.”
“I could always come then, if you like,” I said.
“Some time after lunch?”
“Any time,” I said.
“’Bout two o’clock?”
“Two o’clock would be fine.”
“D’you know which bus to get? There’s one that stops just down the road. Number 19. Dunno if that goes near you?”
“I’ll ask Millie’s dad,” I said. “He’ll know. He knows every bus route there is.”
“Wait till I tell Ben,” said Zach. “He’ll be so excited!”
It was nearly ten o’clock when we arrived back at Millie’s place after the party. Millie’s mum seemed slightly surprised that all we wanted to do was rush upstairs to Millie’s bedroom.
“I thought you’d be all hyped,” she said. “You can stay up later, you know! You don’t have to go to bed for a while yet. Or maybe you’re just wanting to be on your own to talk? Is that what it is?”
Millie’s dad said, “Talk? They’ve been at it non-stop since we left! Chitter chatter, like a flock of starlings.”
“And I dare say there’s a lot more to come.” Millie’s mum nodded knowingly. “Likely they’ll be wanting to pick over the bones.”
“Dunno about bones,” said Millie, as we raced helter-skelter up the stairs. “And you,” she said, as one of the Diddy People put her head round a door, “you’re supposed to be asleep!”
“Want to know about the party,” said the Diddy Person. It was Kimberley, the littlest one.
“Tell you tomorrow,” said Millie. “Me and Peachy have things to talk about.”
“Secrets.”
“Yes, secrets! Nothing to do with you. Scram!”
We disappeared into Millie’s room and flung ourselves down on the bed.
“So we did know how to dance!” I said.
“Yes, and I saw who you were dancing with,” said Millie.
I said, “Yes, and I saw who you were dancing with!”
It was one of the boys that she and Brigid had been chatting to. Aaron, Millie said his name was. I couldn’t help teasing her about it.
“Natter, natter, natter,” I said. “Thought you didn’t know how to talk to boys?”
“Thought you didn’t,” retorted Millie. “You and the Good-Looking Dude!”
I felt myself blushing, as usual. “He wanted to talk about Ben.” I’d already told her that, in the car.
“Yeah, yeah,” said Millie. “That’s why he’s asked you over!”
“It’s only to see Ben,” I said. “We’re taking him up the park.”
“Like he doesn’t fancy you!” jeered Millie.
I protested that it was Ben who fancied me, not Zach.
“Wanna bet?” said Millie.
She made me promise to call her next day and report.
“So what happened?” she squealed when I rang her.
I said, “Well, I got the bus from Beechcroft Road, like your dad told me. The 24? It dropped me right near, so—”
“But what happened? When you got there?”
“We took Ben up the park and practised for the Paralympics.”
“Is that all?”
“Well, and we talked a bit.”
“About what?”
“I dunno. Just… things.”
“So then what happened?”
“Then we took Ben home and Zach came back on the bus with me.”
“What, all the way?”
“Yes.”
“Hah!”
What did she mean, hah?
“Did you invite him in?”
I said, “No, he had to get home. His gran was coming.”
“Oh.”
There was a silence, while she thought about it. In the end I had to put her out of her misery.
“I’m going to see him again next week,” I said. “After we’ve broken up.”
“Hah!” said Millie.
“I’m going to go and say hello to Ben first and then we’re going into town to do some Christmas shopping.”
“Do boys do that sort of thing?” said Millie.
“Dunno,” I said.
“I don’t think they do! He’s only doing it cos he fancies you.”
“What about you and Aaron?” I said.
“Don’t change the subject!”
“Has he called you yet?” She’d said that he might be going to.
“Yes,” said Millie. “If you must know.”
I said, “If you insist on hearing about me and Zach, it’s only fair I hear about you and Aaron.”
“’There’s nothing to hear!”
“Yet,” I said.
Nobody at home knew that I was seeing Zach. I told Mum that I was going to visit Ben.
“You know? The boy I looked after at the Christmas party?”
“Oh, yes,” said Mum. She clearly didn’t remember. “That’s nice of you! Just take care you don’t make a rod for your own back.”
“What’s that mean?” I said.
“Try not to give him too much encouragement. You don’t want him thinking you’re always at his beck and call.”
I said, “Mum! I’m doing it cos I want to.”
There were times when Mum just didn’t get it.
Christmas came and went, and then Dad’s New Year bash, which I normally dreaded. Somehow, this time, it wasn’t so bad. I didn’t drop anything, or spill anything – last year I’d had a complete disaster on both counts – and I actually managed to talk to people without getting all tongue-tied and embarrassed, which is something that has always driven Mum and Dad half demented. That a daughter of theirs couldn’t communicate, for goodness sake!
The day before we went back to school Dad decided that we must all go out for an end-of-holiday meal.
“Let’s have an Indian! We haven’t had an Indian for ages.”
We drove into town and Dad dropped us off outside the restaurant – his favourite, as usual, the Star of Bengal – while he went to find a parking space. Raj came to greet us, full of smiles, wondering why he hadn’t seen us for so long. At the tops of their voices, Mum and Charlie, Coop and the twins, all started to explain. I was about to trail after them across the restaurant, when I was stopped by a joyous cry of “Beeeeedth!” I turned and saw Ben, in his wheelchair. He was with his mum and dad, and Zach. Zach grinned and waved. I immediately went over to say hello.
We talked for a bit, mainly me and Ben, cos he was so excited at seeing me, until his mum told him to ‘Let Peachy go now, and get her dinner’.
“See you at the weekend?” I said. “Go up the park?”
“Baralim!” shouted Ben.
As I turned to go, Zach swivelled round on his chair. “I’ll come and pick you up.”
“You don’t have to,” I said.
“But I want to.”
I said, “Oh. Well! OK, then. I’ll see you!”
> “See you,” said Zach.
I reached our table to find Charlie craning her head, trying to see who I’d been talking to.
“Who was that?” she said.
“Just someone I know,” I said.
“But who is he?”
“His name’s Zach.”
“Zach.” She nodded approvingly. “Cool!”
“Is he your boyfriend?” said Flora.
“None of your business,” I said.
“But I want to know!”
“So do I,” said Fergus.
“Both of us want to!”
“Is he?” said Charlie.
“He’s very good-looking,” said Mum, in tones of some surprise.
“Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend!” chanted Charlie. “Is he or isn’t he?”
“What’s all the racket?” said Dad, taking his seat. “What’s going on?”
“It’s just Peachy,” said Flora. “She’s been talking to a boy and she won’t tell us whether he’s her boyfriend or not.”
“Oh, is that all?” said Dad, immediately losing interest. “I thought perhaps it was something important.”
Charlie rolled her eyes at me across the table. I rolled mine back.
“I saw that,” said Dad. “Stop ganging up on me!”
I had never ganged up with Charlie on anyone before, and specially not on Dad. Now, suddenly, it seemed like we were banded together in the face of male stupidity. Saying that boyfriends weren’t important!
“I shall find out,” warned Charlie.
“So shall I,” said Flora.
“Oh, darling, do tell!” said Mum. “Is he or isn’t he? We’re all desperate to know!”
Coop groaned. “All this luvvy-duvvy stuff!”
“You keep out of it,” said Charlie. “This is between us and Peachy. Nothing to do with you.”
“Oh, leave them to it,” said Dad. “I’m going to order my food.”
“Me too,” I said. “I’m starving!”
I reached out for a menu.
“You needn’t think you’re getting away that easily,” said Charlie. “I intend to go on nagging!”
“You can nag as much as you like,” I said. “I’m going to have prawn biryani.”
As Raj came to take the orders I remembered how we had all sat here at this very table, way back, almost a year before. I had tried so hard to make myself heard! I had shouted, “FIRE!” (in a manner of speaking) in this really LOUD voice, and still nobody had paid any attention. And they had all ordered their food and forgotten I even existed. And Mum and Dad had pinched the best bits of chicken off my plate.
I beamed up at Raj. “I’ll have a prawn biryani, please. And do we want poppadoms?”
“Oh, I think so,” said Mum.
“And six p—”
“Eight,” said Dad.
“Eight poppadoms.”
“Spicy ones!” shrieked Flora. “I want spicy ones!”
“You don’t like them,” said Mum.
“I do so!”
“No, you don’t,” said Coop. “Last time you had one you spat it out.”
“That was last time. This is this time.”
“Give us spicy ones!” roared Fergus.
Mum and I exchanged glances. Mum gave a little shrug of the shoulders. I turned back to Raj.
“Six plain, please, and two spicy.”
“They won’t eat them,” said Charlie.
“Too bad,” said Dad. “They’ve made their choice, they can stick with it.”
“You needn’t think you’re going to have any of mine,” said Coop.
“Don’t want any of yours!”
“Just as well, cos you’re not getting any.”
“Mum, what are you going to have?” I said.
“I think I’ll have… what is it you’re having?”
“Prawn biryani.”
“That sounds good. I’ll have the same.”
“Dad?”
“Give me a minute, give me a minute,” grumbled Dad. “I haven’t decided.”
“Duck,” said Flora. “I want duck!”
“There isn’t any duck,” I said.
“Peking duck!”
“That’s Chinese,” said Charlie witheringly.
Flora said, “Oh.”
“Choose something else.”
“Like what?”
“Anything,” I said. “Just get on with it.”
“Roast beef!” bellowed Fergus.
“Haggis!” shouted Flora. They both collapsed into giggles.
“If you two don’t stop messing around,” said Mum, “you can just have your spicy poppadoms and a glass of water.”
“Then you’ll be sorry,” I said.
The talk swirled on, taking me with it. Across the room Zach caught my eye.
“See you Saturday,” he mouthed.
Charlie gave an exultant shriek. “Gotcha!” she cried.
“What?” said Coop.
“He is her boyfriend!”
“Peachy’s got a boyfriend, Peachy’s got a boyfriend!” Flora chanted, drumming on the table with both hands. Fergus immediately joined in.
“Peachy’s got a—”
“Just button it,” I said. But I must admit, I said it rather feebly. It seemed I didn’t have to shout any more. I’d got everyone’s attention just speaking normally. Well, everyone’s except Dad’s. He was still earnestly studying his menu.
“Chicken tikka,” he announced, in tones of deep satisfaction. “I shall have chicken tikka.” He took off his glasses and gazed round benevolently at the rest of us. “What’s going on? Am I missing something?”
“Oh, Alastair, for heaven’s sake!” said Mum.
“What?” said Dad. “What?”
Charlie looked at me across the table. Sadly she shook her head.
“Honestly,” she said. “Not a clue!”
ALSO BY JEAN URE
Love and Kisses
Fortune Cookie
Star Crazy Me!
Over the Moon
Boys Beware
Sugar and Spice
Is Anybody There?
Secret Meeting
Passion Flower
Shrinking Violet
Boys on the Brain
Skinny Melon and Me
Becky Bananas, This is Your Life!
Fruit and Nutcase
The Secret Life of Sally Tomato
Family Fan Club
Ice Lolly
Lemonade Sky
Special three-in-one editions
The Tutti-Frutti Collection
The Flower Power Collection
The Friends Forever Collection
And for younger readers
Dazzling Danny
Daisy May
Monster in the Mirror
COPYRIGHT
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2013 HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd, 77–85 Fulham Palace Road, Hammersmith, London, W6 8JB.
www.harpercollins.co.uk
www.jeanure.com
Just Peachy
Text © Jean Ure 2013
Illustrations © HarperCollins Publishers 2013
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
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ISBN 978-0-00-751568-4
Ebook Edition © MARCH 2013 ISBN: 9780007515691
Version 1
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