by Dawn McNiff
‘These are for my little brother, but he won’t miss one. So … ’ She looked at me and sniggered. ‘I dare you to go over to those girls at the bench, drop this and jump on it hard … so it squirts out all over them!’
WHAT? Frube some Year Ten girls? That’d be like shaking a killer-wasps’ nest, and Bex knew it.
Lois smiled nervously, and made an uh-oh face at me.
‘I’m not doing it!’ I said.
But Lois didn’t say anything. Why wasn’t she sticking up for me?
‘You have to,’ said Bex. ‘We did our dares.’ Then she did another over-the-top sigh, and just threw the Frube back into her bag. ‘Oh, whatever – you’re just SO boring, Courtney.’
That was it.
I’d had enough of Bossy Bex.
‘All right,’ I said. I took the Frube back out of the bag and stood up. I made out like I was walking off towards the group of girls. Then I stopped, threw the Frube down next to Bex, and stamped on it. Whoa, so much yoghurt in one wincy tube!
But instead of Frubing Bex’s annoying, cowbag face, it squirted the wrong way.
Completely the wrong way …
All over Lois … her top, her jeans and her long plait. She was covered.
‘What d’you do THAT for, you idiot?’ squawked Bex.
Lois just stared down at herself in horror, before turning and gawping up at me.
‘Oh, sorry, Lo! I didn’t mean to … ’ I cried.
‘But why did you … ?’ squeaked Lois. She tried to wipe her jeans with her hand, but the yoghurt was so thick and slimy, she just smeared it and made it worse. ‘Oh no, I’m going to stink!’
‘Yuck – and that looks bad. You look like you actually did vom over yourself!’ said Bex. ‘And you gotta walk home past all those boys like that.’
‘Yes … oh NO, I look SO disgusting, don’t I?’ said Lois, getting teary. She got really embarrassed about stuff like that.
Bex put her arm round Lois, and gave me a smug look. ‘I can’t believe you, Courtney – that was harsh!’
‘I’m sorry! Soooo sorry,’ I stammered, trying to get Lois to look at me. But she was too busy scraping her top with some grass.
She was SO peed off with me.
‘Come on, Lois – let’s go to the loo and TRY and clean it off,’ said Bex, shooting me a you-loser look. ‘But I don’t think it’s going to come off easily.’
Huh, she was loving this. LOVING it …
Lois nodded and got up.
I stayed where I was. Lois didn’t seem bothered whether I came or not.
‘Sorry again,’ I muttered, miserably. I felt a big lump rise in my throat.
Lois smiled weakly and half waved, but Bex whispered to her and pulled her away by her arm.
I sat back down on the bench by myself, and watched them go into the loo block.
Oh no, oh no. My heart was thumping really fast and my tears came properly then.
I pulled my hood up and bent over, so no one could see my face. But my teardrops were making dark marks on my jeans.
How stupid could I be …
I’d just Frubed my best friend. And now she probably hated me … and would go off with Bex.
And right then that funny feeling started creeping through me.
The feeling I was starting to know well.
Spinny.
Floppy.
Heavy …
Oh, the worry magic!
My face lolled forward on my chest …
Asleep again.
Chapter Fourteen
The dream was a wild tumble.
Flashes of faces. Lois smiling at me, holding my hand. A Slush Puppie. Bex pouting with bright blue lips. And then the lovely calmness as the dream faded away.
‘Courts?’ Lois was suddenly back, bending over me, panting from running.
My eyes popped open.
Er … what was going on? I shook myself …
Then I remembered.
Oh no, the Frube … !
I eyed Lois up and down. She still looked pretty smeary.
‘Er … so sorry again about … you know,’ I muttered, rubbing my eyes.
‘Oh … never mind,’ said Lois, sitting down next to me on the bench, taking my hand and smiling a big smile. ‘Don’t worry. I don’t really care – let’s forget it.’
And right then my dream whooshed back to me. Oh wow – the magic had worked on Lois too?
‘Where’s Bex?’ I said, looking all around.
‘Oh, she’s just getting a Slush Puppie from the cafe.’
I nodded.
Of course.
And I knew what colour it would be …
I turned and watched Bex jogging over to us, holding a cup of blue slushy ice with a straw in.
‘I’d better keep this away from you, Courtney, in case you, like, THROW it at someone,’ she sneered, sitting down again. She wasn’t pretending to be even a little bit nice to me any more.
But Lois nudged her. ‘Let’s leave it now, eh,’ Lois muttered, blushing.
Bex’s mouth dropped open in surprise around her straw. Her lips and tongue had gone blue like a sea monster’s.
I knew it wasn’t easy for Lois to stand up to Bex, but the magic was making her do it.
‘Yeah, well … ’ began Bex, pouting all blue.
Lois shook her head at her.
‘No, really, can we just drop it?’ she said, her face nearly the colour of her red hoodie.
Wow. Lois hated arguments, but she was really sticking up for me!
Bex looked gobsmacked.
‘Whatevs,’ she said, flicking her hair and glaring at the floor. ‘I’m off now anyhow. Gotta take the shopping back to my mum.’
She got up and grabbed the shopping bags, tossing her head and acting up all hurt.
‘I’ll text you later, Bex,’ called Lois.
But Bex didn’t reply. She kicked the gate open with her foot and never looked back.
‘Uh-oh, whoops!’ winced Lois. ‘I expect she’ll come round.’
I wanted to say that I really hoped NOT. But I just nodded.
Bad luck, Bex. Three really is a crowd. And I’ve got lovely, lovely worry magic on my side.
And the best thing was that the magic seemed to work on everybody, not just Mum and Dad!
Which meant it would definitely work on Gran, wouldn’t it …
I was sure now.
Chapter Fifteen
Lois had to rush off to her cousin’s party, so I went home.
Mum and Dad weren’t there when I got in.
I was just taking off my shoes when …
Ting-a-ling-a-ling … Ting-a-ling-a-ling …
Uh? An ice-cream van in our street? Oh wow, we NEVER got them down our way normally! Especially not this time of year.
Kyle swung down the banister like a chimp. He was still wearing his sweaty sports clothes from his morning run. Yuck.
‘Double choc Magnum, you’re mine!’ he said, as he raced past me and flew out of the door.
‘Quick, stop it!’ I shouted, scooting down the path after him. ‘Don’t let it go by.’
Ting-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling!
The ice-cream van pulled up right outside our house, blocking the whole road. It coughed out some black smoke, and then the engine conked out. But the ice-cream music just kept on ting-a-linging at top volume.
The van was the small, old-fashioned kind. Seriously old. Like its windows could fall out any minute and squash you. Or its ice creams would make you die of mould.
‘Ewww!’ I said.
‘Mum!’ gasped Kyle, pointing.
‘Mum?’ And then I saw what he meant. Mum was driving the van.
Mum was an ice-cream lady? But since when?
She got out, beaming at us.
‘Do you like it, then?’ She had to shout over the ice-cream music.
‘What d’you mean?’ I yelled back.
‘It’s ours!’ cried Mum. ‘Our own ice-cream van!’
Me an
d Kyle looked at each other. Kyle shook his head, walked over, opened the driver’s door and got in. There was a loud whacking noise and the ting-a-linging stopped.
A lady and her toddler had come down the street to buy an ice cream. But she took one look at the grimy old van, and hurried away again while her kid screamed in her arms.
Kyle came back over to us, his face all straight and hard. I knew my face looked like that too.
‘The exhaust’s definitely gone. And the piston rings too, by the look of all that smoke,’ he said in his flat, fact-man voice. As usual, I didn’t know how he knew about stuff like that, but I totally believed him.
It was like Mum hadn’t even heard him.
‘Isn’t it retro and FAB?’ she gabbled. ‘You just have to use your imagination! It’s going to be my mobile dog-wash, see. A poodle parlour on wheels, so I can take my salon to my clients’ doors! I really don’t know why I haven’t thought of this as a career before. I mean, I’m good with animals AND I’m a hairdresser, so it’ll be dead easy.’
Me and Kyle gave each other a tired look.
OMG, Mum was SO NOT a hairdresser. She’d started a course years ago when she was seventeen, but somehow she never remembered that she’d dropped out after one term because she was RUBBISH. She’d always cut our hair when we were little – me and Kyle kept the photos hidden at the back of the cupboard.
It was so silly that I half wanted to laugh. Except I knew Dad would NOT see the funny side. And he hated any dogs coming to the house cos they always sniffed Henners’ cage and scared him.
‘But, Mum! Dad won’t like dogs coming round … ’
‘But that’s the whole point!’ Mum cried. ‘They WON’T come to the house once the van is done up and ready – they’ll be in there! And I think I could make some serious cash – I’ve already got three customers lined up. Janet Carter wants me to do her new rescue dog, Derek, ASAP.’
‘But … but … what about the money to buy this?’ I stammered. My head was full of too many things to worry about all at once. ‘Dad said … ’
‘A hundred and fifty quid – that’s all,’ said Mum. ‘A total bargain, I reckon. And I haven’t even paid up front. I gave the car-mender man £50 – and he said I can pay him the rest when I can.’
‘Yeah, well, he saw you coming. I wouldn’t pay fifteen pence for THAT rust bucket,’ muttered Kyle.
Mum ignored him again.
‘Just come in and look!’ she said, practically skipping to the van’s back door.
We followed her. The back door was so rusted up we had to wrench it open. Inside it was still kitted out like a proper ice-cream van, with a freezer and a Mr Whippy machine and stuff.
Mum waved us up the steps, and we all three squeezed inside.
It stank like old cheese and sick.
Kyle opened the freezer and we peered in. At the bottom were some defrosted ice poles, lying curled up in a pool of water. They looked like strange, colourful, dinosaur worms.
‘No one’s even cleaned it out!’ I said, holding my nose.
‘Nothing a bit of scrubbing won’t sort,’ said Mum. ‘I imagine a dog-clipping table here.’ She waved her arms about, pointing. ‘A dog bath there … and maybe it could even double up as a weekend camper van. Dad could build pull-down bunk-beds here … ’
‘And full-sized swimming pool over here?’ I said, pointing to the tiny sink.
‘Mum – there’s not room for even one bed,’ said Kyle, flatly. ‘It’s stupid.’
‘Beds for elves perhaps,’ I said, and Kyle sniggered.
I don’t know why I was joking. It wasn’t funny.
‘No, there’ll be lots of space with the freezer gone,’ insisted Mum, looking hurt.
I just wanted to shout at her, but I knew it was pointless. Instead I just chewed my cuff and worried. This was bad. This was VERY bad. Almost as bad as the pig.
‘Oh, get over the long faces – this is a cool plan!!’ said Mum. ‘And I don’t have to tell Dad about it straight away. I can wait until until I’ve done a few practice dogs. Then I’ll wave some money under his nose, and he’ll be happy too!’
‘Yeah, like he won’t notice a ginormous ice-cream van parked out the front,’ said Kyle, shoving his hands into his pockets.
But Mum’s face was set firm. I knew she wasn’t going to be talked out of this.
I sighed. ‘Maybe you can hide it, Mum? Like, in the sanctuary car park?’ I knew that was probably just storing up trouble for later, but it was all I could think of.
Mum nodded, beaming at me and still yacking on, as we hopped out of the smelly van.
‘I can’t wait to get started, actually. In fact I’ll ring Janet and get her new dog booked in right away. He can be my trial run! My guinea pig-dog!’
‘What – today?’ I said. ‘Here?
‘Don’t look so worried, Courts. I’ll do it on the garden table. And … ’ Mum nudged me. ‘I’ll wait till tomorrow morning when Dad’s out doing his old lady’s garden. He’ll never even know.’
We all stood looking at the van. The horrid thing had Mr Whippy painted across the side, except the W had rubbed off, so it just said Mr hippy. Dad was going to love that too.
Dad the Hippy. Not.
All I could think of was Dad’s face when he saw it. And then his face going even darker as Mum explained how he would be building beds for elves inside.
Then I wanted to cry.
Cars were tooting in the road. The van was blocking both ways.
Mum ran and jumped into the van. It puffed out loads of fumes, and sounded like it was in terrible pain, but it just about started up. The music started too, but instead of going ting-a-ling, it got stuck on one high, sharp tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.
I could see Mum hitting the dashboard, and finally the noise stopped. Then she pulled into the neighbour’s driveway, and the cars all drove past in an angry, fast way.
‘I’ll take it straight to the sanctuary car park now,’ she called to us over the engine. She tapped her finger on the side of her nose, like it was all a fun secret, and drove off in a cloud of choking black smoke.
Chapter Sixteen
The evening went off OK – everyone seemed too tired even to pick a fight for once.
And Dad got Henners out for a play, which always put him in a better mood.
Once the pretty weather girl came on the telly, and I watched Dad hard from behind my hair. But he didn’t even look at her that time – he only had eyes for Henners.
Well, if I’d worried right and Dad really did have a girlfriend, she’d never beat Henners … so bad luck to horrid her.
Next morning Dad went off to do his Sunday garden job.
I knew Mum had arranged for Derek to come straight round. So maybe – just maybe – Derek would be all poodled and gone by the time Dad got back.
I stayed in my room, worrying and plaiting and re-plaiting my hair until the doorbell went. I heard voices and when the front door closed, I ran down, catching Mum up in the kitchen on her way towards the garden. She had a small, white, fluffy dog on a lead.
‘Oh this is Derek, Courts, isn’t he a cutie?’ said Mum.
Derek took one look at me, and started snarling so much that Mum had to use all her weedy muscles to drag him off me.
Yeah, what a cutie. Apart from his face full of gnashing teeth. And his bad-lad attitude.
My heart sank. I didn’t think Derek was going to be easy to poodle.
I followed them out. It was cold and misty. Hardly dog-bubble-bath weather.
‘Yeah, so Derek is Janet’s new rescue dog – our first customer,’ said Mum brightly over the racket, still pretending he was a normal dog. ‘I’m sure he’ll settle down in a mo – and then we can start on his fur cut and bath.’ She nodded her head towards an old plastic baby bath filled with water in the middle of the lawn.
What?! Did Mum seriously reckon she was going to bath him in that? Without losing some fingers or maybe her entire life? And I didn’t like
that ‘we’ …
Mum was just cooing down at Derek about how he was going to look gorgeous, when he suddenly flew into the air, barking like crazy at a pigeon. He yanked so hard on his lead that it pulled completely out of Mum’s hand and he legged it off across the lawn.
‘Oh, the little tyke!’ cried Mum.
He circled the garden, his lead trailing behind him, and came pelting towards us, growling and slobbering.
‘Here, Derek! Good boy,’ sang Mum. She bent down and tried to grab him. But he snapped at her, swerved and scarpered, using the bathtub as a sort of mini roundabout.
‘Derek! SIT! HEEL!’ Mum ordered.
But Derek just did another ha-ha-can’t-catch-me! lap of the garden, ran onto Dad’s veg plot and started doing loads of speedy little wees on everything. It was like he was trying to cock his leg on every single vegetable. How did his tummy have room for so much wee?
Then he finished off with a great big poo right on top of a cabbage.
Ewww! Thank goodness Dad wasn’t here to see THAT …
I stood chewing my nails and watched Mum chase Derek off the veg. She pulled a bag out of her pocket, and put the whole cabbage and poo in it, wrinkling up her nose.
The she got back to trying to rugby-tackle Derek. He was SO winning. It was like watching one of those falling-over-a-banana-skin, pie-in-your-face comedy shows on telly. But I couldn’t laugh cos my eyes kept darting up at the dark clouds.
I’d forgotten to worry about RAIN. Dad should be at work all morning but if it looked like it was going to tip down, he might just knock off early. Oh pleeeease don’t come back yet, Dad. It looked like Derek was going to be a very long job.
‘Blimey, he’s fast,’ sighed Mum, stopping to catch her breath, holding her knees. ‘Can you just give us a hand, Courts?’ she puffed, as Derek blasted past again, growling doggy swear words. ‘And when we’ve got him, could you help me dunk him in the bath … and then hold him on the garden table while I give him a quick trim? That be OK?’
I just looked at her, speechless. Was she mad? Did she want her only daughter to become an actual dog’s dinner?’
‘I know it’s tricky, but we’ve got to try,’ she breathed. ‘I promised Janet I’d give him a jolly good wash at the very least … because honestly, he really, really smells.’