Diary of a Lottery Winner's Daughter (13 page)

I didn’t mention the shopping trip because the whole thing would have sounded deranged and I didn’t want to admit that I’d been duped so easily.

When I’d finished, I was red in the face and I think Spencer realised that it had been difficult for me to talk about, because it’s not easy admitting you’re a loser and that your best friend doesn’t like you any more.

Spencer could see I was embarrassed but he didn’t offer any advice because he’s a boy and they don’t have best friends, they have mates and hang out in packs.

Instead, he told me how when he got to the new school he found out he wasn’t as clever as he’d thought he was and he wasn’t the top of the class any more. What he was doing wasn’t homework, he was just trying to be better. He looked pretty embarrassed about it and I knew he’d only told me to make me feel better, like we were two losers together.

I couldn’t believe it though. Spencer’s the cleverest person I know. I was sure he was doing fine and was just a bit put out that he wasn’t top in everything.

‘Why does it matter if you’re not top of the class?’ I said. ‘It’s not like you can’t do the work, is it? Can’t you just make do with being middle of the class and then you’ll have time for other stuff, like your War Hammer and computer games?’

Spencer put his glasses back on and glared at me through them. ‘Yeah, and you can always get new friends. You don’t have to be friends with Lauren, do you?’

I was about to protest that they were two completely different things when I realised that what Spencer was actually saying was that being top was as important to him as being friends with Lauren was to me.

Then we heard Mum calling us down for tea. I felt much better now I’d told someone and I think Spencer did too because, when we got down to the landing, Chelsea was coming out of her room and Spencer put on his David Attenborough voice and said,

‘The dragon occasionally leaves its lair to feed, and to harass and terrify the people.’

Chelsea gave us a withering look and swept past us.

As we went down to the kitchen I decided that maybe things weren’t as bad as I’d thought and that tomorrow everything would be fine. I would be able to tell Lauren what really happened because we’ve got drama second period and Lauren and I are partners for that. Then Lauren will know what an evil witch Stacy really is.

Tuesday 9th November

Lauren and Stacy pretty much ignored me during registration but I pretended not to notice. I was biding my time until the drama lesson.

The first lesson today was maths and I had to sit next to Stacy because there were no other seats. I could see Annabel sitting at the back next to a geeky boy and decided that I would bribe him to swap seats with me next maths lesson. Maybe I should have confronted Stacy about the lies she told Lauren about me and the shopping trip but somehow I knew it would have been pointless. Besides, I didn’t want to talk to her. Ever again. I kept looking at the clock and willing the lesson to end. Then, about halfway through, Stacy handed me a piece of paper. I thought it was going to be a bitchy note or something but, when I looked at it, I saw she’d drawn another of her cartoons and this time it was of Annabel.

I looked at the drawing. It was really cruel. Stacy had made Annabel look way fatter than she actually is and put her in a frilly party frock and, for some reason, had drawn her crying like a baby. Stacy was nudging me and giggling. I pushed the piece of paper back towards her, all the time keeping my eyes on the front of the class. I couldn’t even look at Stacy I was so mad. What had Annabel ever done to her?

Stacy was annoyed that I wasn’t laughing and admiring her artwork. She scrunched it up into a ball and threw it to Annabel where it landed in front of her on the desk. I twisted round, willing her not to look at it but she must have thought it was a note. My heart leapt to my throat - she might think it was from me! I couldn’t look. Stacy was still giggling beside me and I would quite happily have strangled her at that moment.

I sneaked a look at Annabel, expecting to see her crying or at least looking red and upset, but she was totally composed and was staring ahead as if nothing had happened.

I willed the lesson to finish so I could get to drama.

Of course, if I’d known what was going to happen I wouldn’t have gone. I’d have pretended I was ill or something, or hidden in the loos. Anything to avoid the humiliation.

When we got to drama, the teacher told us to get into our pairs and work on the scenes that we’d been making up. I went to join Lauren and found Stacy glued to her side. I ignored her, waiting for her to go away but she said,’ You’ll have to find another partner. Lauren and I were together last week when you were off sick and we’ve been working on this at home ever since.’

I looked at Lauren, waiting for her to say something, but she just looked away. Stacy was grinning at me triumphantly and for the second time today I wanted to strangle her. I didn’t move for a bit because I didn’t know what to do. I always partnered Lauren. Always.

Then the teacher saw me. Stacy had linked arms with Lauren and moved away so I was standing on my own.

‘Come on, Charlotte. Find yourself a partner.’I looked around wildly and saw Annabel. I’d have to partner Annabel. But then I saw she already had a partner. I could hear Stacy sniggering behind me.

The teacher came to stand beside me and clapped her hands, then raised her voice above the hubbub.

‘Has everyone got a partner?’ she shouted. The noise stopped and everyone turned to look at her - and me. ‘You’ll have to join a pair. Who’s going to let Charlotte join them?’ she said, looking around.

I could see Stacy out of the corner of my eye, whispering to Lauren but I wasn’t going to look at them. I wanted to die, or at the very least cry. My eyes were going all hot. Then I remembered Annabel when she’d seen that drawing and how composed she’d been. I could do that, I thought, holding my head up and staring straight ahead as if I didn’t have a care in the world.

There were a few couples who had their hands up.’Go and join one of them, then,’ said the teacher. She was beginning to sound impatient.

Annabel was looking at me but she didn’t have her hand up. She must have thought I had something to do with the horrid cartoon.

Lauren looked as though she was about to raise her hand but Stacy grabbed her arm and held it down. I turned away and went to join Karly and Tiffany.

Somehow I made it through until the end of the day, pretending that nothing cataclysmic had happened.

When the bell finally went and it was home time, I hurried to the bus stop. I wanted to find Annabel and explain to her that I had nothing to do with the cartoon, but she wasn’t on the bus and I had to walk up the hill on my own.

Friday 12th November

Dad’s lost his job. He’s been made redundant. I don’t know what he’s so upset about. It’s not like he needs the money. In fact, that’s why he lost his job. His boss said that he had to let someone go and he couldn’t do it to any of the others because they had families to support and, while he didn’t want to see Dad go, it seemed only fair to get rid of the person who didn’t need the job.

Dad’s moping about the house and I feel really bad because, if I hadn’t made those wishes, we wouldn’t have won the lottery and he’d still have a job. Mum’s told him he might as well get on with redecorating Morticia’s boudoir so that Grandma and Grandpa can come and stay sometime. I nearly told him not to do it because, if they have to sleep in there as it is, you can be sure they’ll never come to stay again. But I didn’t because I’ve caused enough trouble as it is.

School was awful today. Lauren and Stacy ignored me again during registration. Karly and Tiffany have cooled towards me as well. I don’t know what Lauren’s told them but, whatever it is, I know they’ll side with her because Ratcliffe girls always stick together and I’m not a Ratcliffe girl any more.

All they could talk about was what they were going to wear next Friday because it’s a Wear Your Own Clothes Day in aid of charity. Why are they getting so excited? It’s not until next week. Do they need that long to plan it?

I hate it when we have to wear our own clothes to school. It brings me out in a cold sweat. I know that’s stupid and it’s not like it’s important or anything; but this time I just want to blend in, so I can hardly go in Spencer’s old cast-offs. There’s no way I’m going clothes shopping though. Not even with Mum. The whole thing’s making me feel sick. Perhaps I could pretend to be ill and have next Friday off.

At lunchtime I couldn’t face going into the canteen on my own. What if I couldn’t find anyone to sit with? I didn’t want to give Stacy another excuse to laugh at me.

I wandered along the main corridor pretending to be studying the noticeboards. I got to the after-school clubs board and my spirits plummeted even further. It reminded me of when Lauren and I had been friends and couldn’t decide on a club. And how we’d decided not to go to one if we couldn’t be together. And then I saw it. Her name added to the bottom of the choir list. And above it, naturally, was Stacy’s name. I thought I couldn’t get any more depressed!

I finally caught up with Annabel on the way home. I had a good complain about Stacy all the way up the hill which made me feel better. I explained that Stacy’s cartoon didn’t have anything to do with me. When we got to the top I invited her back to my house because I wanted to make sure she knew I wasn’t being horrible to her.

‘I can’t,’ she said,’ not tonight.’She looked really disappointed. I was about to say goodbye when she said,’ But you could come to mine, if you want. It’s my turn to cook the dinner tonight, though, so you can’t stay long.’

‘Thanks,’ I said.

‘That’s okay,’ said Annabel. I think we both felt a bit awkward.

We turned in at a big gate, a bit like ours, and I saw that, as I’d thought, she lived in an enormous house. But then she led me round the side and up a ramp to a door which had a separate bell.
Flat B - Conners
was written above it. Annabel was looking nervous. ‘I don’t usually have friends round,’ she said. I got the feeling she meant she’d
never
had a friend round. She opened the door with her key and we went inside.

‘Mum! I’m home,’ called Annabel. ‘I’ve brought a friend.’

Mrs Conners came bustling out into the hall. Or as much as you can bustle when you’re in a wheelchair. Annabel introduced me to her mum and then took me to her room. It was very neat and tidy, I noticed, and then realised it would have to be if her mum was going to get in there with her wheelchair. I imagined her coming in to wake Annabel up in the morning, like my mum does. Then I wondered if she did, or if Annabel had to go and help her mum get dressed or something, or was there someone else to do that?

‘Is it just you and your mum?’ I plucked up the courage to ask.

‘Yes,’ said Annabel. ‘It’s always been just me and my mum. That’s why I couldn’t go back to your place. At least not without a bit of notice. Mum can do most things herself but I have to help out a lot.’I remembered the shopping. And the fact that she had to cook tea tonight.

‘There is someone who comes in,’ said Annabel,’ but now that I’m older and with the cutbacks and everything, they don’t come so often. I could probably come round to yours for a couple of hours tomorrow,’ she added hopefully. ‘I don’t like to go out too much in the evenings during the week because I’m at school all day. Mum’s always trying to get me to do more stuff out of the house but I don’t like to leave her.’

We spent the rest of the time looking at her books and she lent me a couple of them.

When I left, Annabel came with me because she’d forgotten to pick up some milk on the way home so she’d have to go to the newsagent on the corner of our street to get some. How lucky am I? If I want milk, I just go to the fridge. I never gave a thought as to how it got there. I don’t envy Annabel all her extra responsibilities. To think I’d invented a family for Annabel with older parents and a huge house. I really must stop jumping to conclusions about people. You can never tell what someone’s like just by looking at them.

We said goodbye outside the shop and, as she went in, Belinda from next door was coming out so I walked the rest of the way home with her.

I didn’t say much - I was secretly worrying about Friday and what to wear and hoping that Stacy didn’t wear the clothes she’d tricked me into buying for her because that would be too much for me to bear.

‘What’s up?’ said Belinda. ‘You look like you want to kill someone.’

Hmm, am I that easy to read? I really must work on my poker face. Anyway, I could hardly tell Belinda about all my problems so in the end I told her about Wear Your Own Clothes Day and how I didn’t have anything to wear. I said I hated the way people judged you on what you were wearing.

‘It’s like that girl I was with just now,’ I explained. ‘Everyone’s really mean to her because she doesn’t dress right .

‘She looks just like I did at her age,’ said Belinda. I looked at her, with her long dreadlocks and big boots and little skirt.

‘No, really,’ said Belinda, laughing.’I didn’t always look like this. It took me years to work out who I really was and what I wanted to wear. When I was fourteen I looked very conservative and was quite overweight and I didn’t fit in. I wish I’d had a friend like you who realised it didn’t matter, though. Most of the other kids were pretty mean to me.’

I hesitated. I was about to tell Belinda that I wasn’t really friends with Annabel. Three weeks ago I hardly even knew she existed. But the truth was I liked Annabel. I wanted to be friends with her. Ijust wished she didn’t look like such a geek. Argh! I can’t believe I just said that. What had I said to Belinda about hating the way people judged you on what you were wearing? I am such a hypocrite.

When we reached Belinda’s gate she said I could come in and see if she had any clothes I could borrow. I must have looked confused; she’s so much bigger than me.

‘It’s okay,’ she laughed. ‘I run an online clothes business. I’ve got loads of stuff in there. There’s bound to be something that will fit you.’

And that’s how I ended up in Belinda’s flat trying on clothes. It was fun with her. When I go shopping for clothes, I always end up looking at the kids’ clothes because I’m so small. I can fit into the eight-to-ten-year-old stuff which is one of the reasons I hate shopping so much.

Their flat was fairly small but really nice. There were interesting things everywhere; sort of like a cross between a museum and a junk shop. I could have spent ages just looking. Even the things that are usually boring, like picture frames, were interesting. Belinda had stuck things onto them. One picture had a feather boa stuck all round the frame and another was made out of cutlery, all sort of melted together into a silver frame, but you could still see that they’d been forks, knives and spoons. There were some big African drums in the corner that they seemed to be using as a table because there was a mug and some leaflets on the top.

Belinda took me into a room at the back that was completely full of clothes except for one corner where there was a desk with a computer on it.

‘I’ve got my own website,’ said Belinda,’ but I sell through other websites as well. My website is vintage clothes but really I sell anything. If I see something in a charity shop or at a jumble sale or a boot fair that’s cheap and I think I can get more for it, then I buy it.’She smiled and indicated the piles of clothes.

Now I could see that there was some order to the room. On the left was a jumbled pile of clothes and on the right they were neatly folded or hung on rails. There was an ironing board in the middle.

‘If I pull something out and you don’t like it, just say so,’ said Belinda. ‘You won’t be hurting my feelings or anything. What’s important is that you feel good in your clothes.’

By the time Belinda had finished with me I had a brilliant new outfit. We started with the feet and she found a pair of ankle boots in my size, then some leggings and a skirt. I wasn’t sure about the skirt at first because I don’t usually wear them, but Belinda got me to try it on. It was short, but not too short, and even though it flared out it didn’t make me look like a little kid so I kept it on. Then she handed me a top that I thought looked fairly boring until she matched it with a jacket. The jacket was hooded and knitted but it had a strip of fur all round the edges and round the rim of the hood. I fell in love with it at once and decided not to take it off.

I left feeling amazing, and with a huge smile on my face.

When I got home and walked into the kitchen Mum looked impressed.

‘Have you been shopping?’ she asked.

I told her about my dilemma and how Belinda had helped me.

‘Well, I must say, you look nice. If you want I’ll buy them for you.’

For the first time ever I was actually looking forward to Wear Your Own Clothes Day.