by Candy Harper
Miss Ramsbottom was not keen and started ribbiting on about uniform, but I said firmly but politely, ‘Miss R, I am an eco-warrior. I’ve got a family of badgers sheltering under here. Please don’t hate the animals.’
I am such a nice person that despite the treacherous snowy conditions I actually waited at school until the end of choir rehearsal and tolerated Icky flouncing past me and saying, ‘Poodle boy keeping you waiting again?’ just so I could generate more support for the Christmas boxes.
I gathered together as many people from the rehearsal as possible in Juicy Lucy’s and told them what it was about. Once again the miserable monkeys started whining on about lack of money and fear of old people. So I decided to cut to the chase, I said firmly but politely, ‘Shut up, you cretins. Who is going to sign up?’
Deathly silence.
Then Ethan said, ‘I’ll do one.’
And Westy said, ‘I’ll do ten.’
It’s nice that he’s still trying to make things up to me, but I’m not sure he can be trusted to gather suitable gifts for pensioners. This is the boy who told us that last Christmas he removed a packet of rubber gloves from under the sink at home to give to his own mother. Ethan said he would supervise Westy. Counting them as two boxes, my grand total so far is fourteen boxes. Lame.
Most people had shuffled off and I was left staring into my milkshake when Ethan came over.
He said, ‘Can I make a suggestion about your Christmas boxes?’
I raised my eyebrows. I don’t know where I am with Ethan. I kind of like him, but I feel like I made an idiot of myself assuming that he was the one pretending to be Finn. Sometimes I wonder if Ethan is laughing at me.
He said, ‘You need to sell it to people.’
‘The whole idea is that people are supposed to be volunteering to do this. You know, giving their time and effort for nothing, to help the old dearies.’
‘You need to sex it up a bit.’
‘Oh, gross. Listen, I’ve seen what’s under my granny’s skirt and it only gets worse above the pop socks.’
‘Not the geriatrics. Appeal to the girls with the boys, and the boys with the girls. Have a joint meeting to wrap the boxes and then we can all go off together to deliver them. No one can resist the opportunity to meet the opposite sex. That’s how we all ended up in this choir disaster, isn’t it?’
‘I’ll have you know that I’ve got a fine ear for music.’
‘You might have a fine ear for music, but you haven’t got a fine gob for it.’
I whacked him over the head for that. It was just like old times.
It is quite a good idea. I am going to ask if we can use the hall at school. Ethan said if I make a poster that he would put it up at the boys’ school.
Freezing day with sleet in the wind. Not good conditions for keeping my nose un-red and fanciable. I put on a layer of foundation, two layers of powder, then wrapped my conk in a scarf and hoped for the best. I did consider Sam’s balaclava, but it would have messed up my hair. I could have chopped a hole in the top, but I thought then my head would look like when you grow cress out of the top of an eggshell.
I went into town to meet Megs before the Big Bowling Date. I was early, so I thought I’d help Mum with her Christmas shopping (by making a list of things she really must buy me) when the shadow of something tall and jangly loomed over the rack of earrings I was admiring.
I said, ‘Hello, Cherry. I see you’re dressed for the weather.’
She was wearing thigh-length fur boots.
She said, ‘Hello, Hope. Is that fit boy with you?’ She looked about like Finn might be hiding in the rings display.
‘I expect I’ll see him later.’
‘We had a lovely time with him at the Christmas Fayre.’
My mouth dropped open at this. Finn went to their stupid fayre? Why didn’t I know this?
‘You can tell him we raised loads of money.’ She scratched her eyebrow with one of her talon nails. ‘Yeah, loads of money for our Christmas boxes,’ she continued. ‘How many boxes have you got, Hope?’
Instead of answering, I “accidentally” jogged her and she skewered her own eyeball with her dagger-nail. While she was trying to mop up the river of mascara running down her face Megs appeared. She twirled round to show me her outfit (covered by a gigantic coat) and said, ‘Do they do kitten-heeled bowling shoes? I need a bit of height.’
After we’d bid a friendly goodbye to Cherry (‘Bye, Cherry. Hope your school burns down and your leg extensions drop off . . .’) we went to do some real shopping.
The problem with shops is that they’re not organised to suit me. It would be much more helpful if they could sort out the things that are a) in my size and b) not ugly, and put them in a roped-off area for me. I did ask Megs if she’d like to be my personal shopper, but she shook her head.
‘Faith, I don’t fall for your offers of employment. Remember when we started in Year Seven and you talked our Maths table into being your personal assistants for a week?’
‘Oh, yes, that was a good week. I was freed from the weight of carrying my own bag and the toil of sharpening my own pencils.’
‘Yeah, because by “personal assistant” you meant slaves. And I was the only one you didn’t bamboozle into it. And you said that was when you decided to be my friend, because I was the only one who had any backbone.’
‘Yep, I really respected that backbone. Me getting friendly had nothing to do with the fact that you were writing your party invitations at the time.’
And Megs beat me over the head with the pair of jeans she was holding.
I said, ‘See? We’re a perfect combination. I’m devastatingly attractive and able to wangle party invitations and you can fashion a weapon from fashion. Stick with me, Megsie, and we’ll go far.’
Megs was about to lay in with a double attack using both the jeans and a fluffy jacket when a shop assistant asked if we were planning to buy either of the items. So we decided to leave in a dignified manner (i.e. snorting with laughter and jabbing each other in the ribs).
Outside the shop Megs said, ‘No, but really, apart from your laziness, rudeness and constant demands for sweeties, you are quite a good friend.’
‘Stop, Megs, before I’m overcome with all your kind words. Oh, no, wait, there were only six them. Have you not read that lists of acceptable compliments I gave you?’
‘Shut up! I’m trying to tell you that you’re really nice for setting up this thing with Cameron.’
‘Well, I couldn’t let you go around running your own life, could I?’
Then we had a hug and started off for the bowling alley.
We’d got most of the way there before Megs realised that I’d used her cuddle as an opportunity to nab the Mars bar that was in her pocket.
When we got there things were a little bit awkward. Megs barely said hello to Cameron, I still feel a bit weird around Westy, and Lily was transfixed by the ball polisher. Angharad managed to say to Elliot, ‘Are those new shoelaces?’ and that was the extent of our conversation for five minutes.
The boys were no help. They were mostly whacking each other over the head and telling anyone who’d listen how brilliant they are at bowling, but none of them seemed particularly keen to get started. In the end it was Westy who got things going. He picked up a ball and rubbed it on his trousers like cricketers do. He turned to us and winked and took these long, crouching steps backwards (until he bumped into a waitress) then he ran forward right up on his tippy-toes. As he got close to the line he swung the ball backwards really hard and then lunged forward. The ball went flying down the lane.
And Westy went with it.
Angharad was the first one to stop crying with laughter, so she went to help Westy, who had got his sausage fingers stuck in the holes in the ball. He said, ‘Did you see that? Did you see how straight I got it? If I hadn’t’ve gone with it I reckon that would have been a strike. I should get the points for that.’ He looked right at me and I think that’
s probably when I completely forgave him. Nobody could believe that Westy ever meant any harm. The great haddock.
After that things were a bit more relaxed.
When it was my turn to bowl, I was a bit nervous. It’s not a very flattering sport and I started to wish I’d worn more substantial knickers. I managed to keep my behind under control and didn’t do anything too embarrassing (unlike Lily, who bowled down the wrong lane).
When I sat down, Cameron said to me, ‘What shall I do?’
I’m not sure that I know him well enough for life guidance, but I did my best and said, ‘Follow your dreams and stay away from hard drugs.’
He looked at me like my name was Insanie McMental and then said very slowly, ‘I meant what shall I do about Megan?’
‘Oh. Chat to her. Talk about something she’s interested in. Maybe try a romantic gesture.’
He nodded and turned back to Megs and said, ‘Did you see the football last night, Megan? And do you want a Coke?’
Megan obviously doesn’t have my high standards of romance because the next time I looked round the pair of them were having a tickle fight.
And we all know what that means.
When it was Angharad’s go she picked up a little pink ball and held it against her chest with both hands.
Westy said, ‘Shall we put the kiddie rails up for you, Angharad?’
Ang took a dainty little run-up and swung the ball down the lane. It zoomed straight down the middle and smashed into the centre pin sending all the others flying. We gave her a round of applause for her beginner’s luck and then . . . she did it again. Turns out that Angharad is a tiny bowling powerhouse.
While I was watching Megs and Cam getting more and more silly, Ethan sat down next to me and said, ‘We’re pretty good at bringing people together. Maybe we should charge.’
I said, ‘Obviously, I’d get most of the money since I’m the brains.’
‘Obviously.’ He turned round to look at Angharad and Elliot, who were comparing key rings. ‘Do you think we should help them out next?’
‘I think they’re already having more fun than they can handle by talking about Ang’s stick insect and Elliot’s paper round. I don’t think they’ll ever get to snogging unless we draw them a diagram.’
‘Elliot does like a good diagram.’ He smiled his sparkly smile at me again. ‘What about you, Faith? What do you like?’
I went a bit goosepimply when he said my name. ‘Oh, you know. The small things in life. Chocolate buttons, lollipops . . . diamond earrings.’
He laughed. ‘You seem a bit distracted today. Are you all right?’
Of all the conversations with a boy that I have rehearsed in my head, not once have I imagined that one would be asking me seriously how I was. I said, ‘Fine.’ In an unconvincing way.
He went on looking at me. I couldn’t tell him that I was feeling left out of all this coupling-up business. And I certainly couldn’t tell him that I was trying to decide if I like him as much as Finn. What I needed was a neutral topic that didn’t give away too much about me. Before I could think of one of those I blurted out, ‘I’m really scared I’m going to be excluded for driving Miss Ramsbottom’s car.’
‘Ah.’
Which made me think that the next time a boy asks me if I am all right I will be more forceful about saying, ‘Fine’.
But then he said, ‘It’s tough when your imagination carries you away and before you know it you’ve landed yourself in trouble, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. People keep telling me I ought to grow up and think about the consequences of my actions, but—’
‘The consequences keep pretty quiet when a funny idea pops in your head?’
‘Exactly. And who am I to silence the comedy genius within me? How do you know all this?’
‘I know I give the impression of being a sophisticated and controlled young man, but I’ve actually got myself into a few situations too.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. Last year I subscribed the head of Maths to a rather naughty magazine and had them sent to the school.’
‘What happened?’
‘They rang my parents. I was grounded. There was a huge row.’
‘That’s what’s going to happen to me. I just know it.’
‘Listen, Faith, firstly, you haven’t been caught yet so maybe you—’
‘Oh no, you’re not going to suggest confessing, are you?’
‘What? Are you insane? Never confess. The way I see it is that you can square it with the universe by saying, “I know that was a really dumb thing to do and I have learnt my lesson. I will never drive a teacher’s car again”. That way fate knows it’s not necessary for you to be found out.’
My eyes had gone quite wide by this point. I said, ‘You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?’
He nodded.
‘Man, you must have done some naughty stuff.’
He tried to look sheepish, but he actually looked a little bit proud. He said, ‘Yeah, but never the same thing twice.’
I shook my head.
‘Look, don’t worry. I think it’ll all be OK. And if you do get found out, don’t panic, you’re not a bad person, Faith. People would get over it eventually.’
Then he quite tactfully started telling me about when he was at primary school with Westy and they were in the nativity play. Ethan was stuck at the back as one of many shepherds, but Westy insisted on being an angel. He wore a white duvet cover and carried a wand. When another kid stole his line Westy wrestled them to the ground, waved his wand and said, ‘I’m going to turn you into a frog.’ I laughed so hard that I had to cheer up a bit. I also felt quite reassured by what Ethan said. It will all be all right in the end.
By the time we left, Megs and Cameron were holding hands and Angharad had the highest score by a mile. When she made her gazillionth strike I heard Elliot say, ‘What a woman!’
Which was both true and very funny.
Cameron’s dad was waiting to give Cam and Ethan a lift. Cameron gave Megs this little squeezy hug before they went.
I had a strange thought that I’d quite like a squeeze from Ethan, but he just said, ‘Better not jingle those car keys near Faith, Mr H,’ which made Megs snort with laughter.
I got the bus back with Lily. I was pleased that we’d managed to get Megs and Cameron together, but somehow it had left me feeling a bit flat.
Lily said, ‘What’s the matter, Faith? You look like my cat did that time I forgot her birthday.’
I didn’t want to hear any more of that story so I launched into a lengthy explanation of how my delicate emotional balance has been thrown out by the recent turbulent events and the insensitivity of others in forming happy relationships.
I said, ‘I’m fed up.’
Lily patted me on the arm and beamed at me. ‘When I’m fed up I think about crunchy peanut butter on toast and new trainers. The world is a wonderful place and I really can’t think of a single problem . . .’
And that’s when I told her she was still wearing her bowling shoes.
Megs rang me way too early this morning. She said, ‘Get your Nike miniskirt on. We’re going to watch some football.’
‘It’s practically snowing. The only thing that I’ll be wearing this morning is my duvet.’
‘Cameron’s going to be there.’
‘You won’t want me there then, I’d only get in the way of your special squeezes.’
‘I’ll want you there while he’s doing the footballing bit, otherwise I’ll have no one to talk to.’
‘Oh, I see, and then what am I supposed to do when you two are getting cosy?’
‘You could take an interest in the scenery.’
I growled.
‘Or you could talk to Finn. Who, I’m sure you remember, is also on the team. And who, I’ve been meaning to say, is always looking at you.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. I’ll meet you at the park.’
So som
ehow I found myself spending my Sunday morning watching teenage boys kicking about in the mud. It wasn’t much fun to start with because, despite my frozen, but glamorous good looks, not one of them glanced in my direction. All their attention was on the stupid ball. And that’s why I have never liked football.
Eventually, they stopped playing and Cameron came jogging over. Megs started gushing like he’d just invented lip-gloss or done something else actually worthwhile rather than run backwards and forwards on a muddy field. I thought now was probably the time for me to take an interest in the scenery, so I headed in the direction of the best view, which happened to be of Finn’s legs in shorts.
I said, ‘Oh, hi Finn, I didn’t know you played on the same team as Cameron.’
‘Really? I thought you asked me if I did at Ryan’s party.’ He wrinkled his super-cute nose up. ‘Three times.’
I tried to gloss over things with a light-hearted laugh, but it sounded more like a choking hyena. Then I said, ‘Oh. Yeah. That’s right. I remember now.’
‘Do you forget the things that you’ve said too? I do that. My mum’s like, “You said you wanted picking up at four,” and I’m like, “Did I?”’
Then we had a nice chuckle about how forgetful the pair of us are.
I asked him how the footballing was.
‘Well, we’ve been pretty narrow in the midfield.’
I didn’t know if this was a good or bad thing so I nodded my head thoughtfully.
‘And most of the play has been long-ball stuff.’
He seemed to be expecting me to respond so I said, ‘That’s nice. No one wants little balls, do they?’
As soon as I said it I cringed. Finn just blinked at me and then, fortunately, someone blew a whistle and apparently that meant that they were going to play some more. I couldn’t really see what for. I thought the first forty-five minutes had pretty much covered everything. So Finn gave me one more lovely (if slightly confused) smile and jogged off. I did manage to speak to him again at the end and to invite him to come to the Christmas box meeting. If only the morning had taken place somewhere warm it might have all been worth it.