Girl, 15: Flirting for England (20 page)

Gerard and Flora?
A terrible idea flashed across Jess’s mind.

‘Aren’t they back yet?’ she asked, peering around in the semi-dark. She could only see Jodie, Marie-Louise and Fred.

‘Well, I can’t see them here, can you?’ snapped Jodie. ‘Nobody could find Gerard, so eventually we all came back here, except Flora. Presumably she found him. If they don’t come back soon it’ll be dark. Your phone rang twice – maybe she’s sent you a text.’

Jess hurried to the tent, grabbed her phone and collected the messages. The first was from her mum, asking if she was warm enough. The second was indeed from Flora.

HI BABE,
it said.
FOUND GERARD BUT WE GOT LOST. OK NOW. HVING T WITH NICE OLD BID. SEZ SHE’LL LEND US A TORCH. DON’T WAIT UP! LV FLO XXX

Jess went back to the campfire and conveyed Flora’s message. Jodie almost exploded.

‘Got lost?’ she snapped. ‘They got
lost
?! They weren’t supposed to go off together! That’s just typical of Flora! She’s a total airhead!’

There was a brief, embarrassed silence. Everybody was thinking the same thing, but nobody dared speak. Even Fred kept his mouth shut.

‘Poor Jess is very dirty,’ said Marie-Louise. ‘Maybe she can takes a bath in your aunt’s ’ouse, Jodie?’

‘Sure, whatever,’ said Jodie, shrugging. ‘C’mon, then.’

Jess followed Jodie up the field towards the house. The lights were on, and the windows shone in the blue evening air. They were the colour of orange juice: cheerful, inviting. But in Jess’s heart there was no light, only a deep, impenetrable blackness. Could the day have turned out any worse? She doubted it.

Chapter 27

As she showered, Jess’s mind whirled with possibilities. Why would Flora and Gerard have gone off together? There could be only one reason. And the slightly festive air of Flora’s text message confirmed it:
DON’T WAIT UP!
Jess tried to imagine what it would be like to wander down darkening lanes with Gerard, possibly hand in hand . . . Bliss! But
she
was the one he’d flirted with earlier, down by the stream. He’d actually
held her hand
, for goodness’ sake. Did that count for nothing?

Washed, dried and dressed in fresh clothes, Jess emerged. Jodie’s uncle had come in and his wife was bustling about, making his supper. Betsy looked up from her basket and waved her tail in a bored and idle way. That dog was a total couch potato. For a split second Jess wished she could join Betsy in her basket. It seemed cosy and safe in the farm kitchen. But she knew she had to go out into the howling wilderness and confront her worst nightmares.

‘I’ll hang your washing in the utility room when it’s ready, Jess,’ said Mrs B. ‘Oh – you should take one of those torches by the door, and watch your step.’

Jess thanked her, picked up a torch and stepped out into the night. On her way down to the field, she met another light bobbing up towards her. It was Fred.

‘I’m on my way to the loo,’ he said. ‘The Babes in the Wood have returned. It’s all a big mystery. Jodie’s grown long yellow fangs. We’re marooned in some Gothic fairytale. I might have to chop your feet off by dawn.’

‘Fine, go for it,’ replied Jess. ‘I’ve never liked them. I’d rather have a set of wheels, to be honest.’

‘Oh, and that other mystery,’ said Fred. ‘Our divorce. Delightful though it is, it did rather come out of the blue. Was that so you could become an item with your matchbox toyboy?’

No way was Jess going to reveal that she had hoped to get off with Gerard. It now seemed totally ludicrous.

‘I just got sick of being married to you,’ said Jess. ‘The way you load the dishwasher is SO irritating. And that sucking noise you make on your pipe – nauseating. Plus your slippers smell.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Fred. ‘It’s the monastery for me, then. Fabulous! Can’t wait.’

‘As for Edouard,’ added Jess, ‘we still find each other disgusting. He did save my life three times on the hike home, but even when he sank his teeth into my arm you could tell he wasn’t enjoying it.’

‘Who would?’ said Fred. ‘Personally I would prefer to eat a live elephant. Starting at the back.’

They punched each other briefly and then separated. Jess felt slightly better as she made her way down towards the campfire. But only for a few seconds. Then the nervousness kicked in. She was going to have to see Gerard, and try not to catch his eye. It would obviously be best just to ignore him: pretend that wonderful holding-hands-under-water moment had never happened.

Gerard and Flora were sitting side by side, but not too close together. They weren’t actually touching.

‘Oh, hi, Jess!’ cried Flora as Jess arrived. She sounded slightly hysterical. Her voice came out a bit shrieky. ‘I heard you got lost and fell in a cowpat! So did we! Well, we got lost, but we were spared the cowpat, thank goodness. Are you OK?’

‘Yeah, fine. It was quite bracing actually,’ said Jess, and sat down.

‘Would you like a Coke, Jess?’ asked Marie-Louise. She seemed to be playing hostess – probably because Jodie was scowling, sunk down deeply into her fleece with her mouth covered, glaring into the flames.

‘Gerard hid in a wood up past the house,’ said Flora. ‘I found him almost right away. And we waited and waited, but nobody came. And then we thought we could hear a waterfall. So we looked for it and got lost. In the end we came out on a strange road, and there was a cottage, and this little old lady gave us a cup of tea and told us how to get back.’

‘Old ladies are losing their touch,’ said Jess, forcing a joke. ‘She should have fattened Gerard up in a cage and kept you as a domestic slave.’ Jess was really gutted at the thought of Flora and Gerard sharing this romantic fairytale adventure so soon after he had held Jess’s hand and gazed rapturously at her down by the stream. Jodie wasn’t the only one whose heart was slightly broken.

Flora laughed, and her laugh was a bit nervous. A sudden, deep silence fell. It was clear Jodie was not going to speak again this evening – possibly ever again in her life.

Marie-Louise was putting another log on the fire. Jess refused to focus on the charismatic blur that was Gerard. Edouard was playing with his phone. Eventually Fred returned, a bobbing light in the dark.

‘Are you Fred Parsons or a ghost?’ said Jess. Well, somebody had to talk.

‘I am the ghost of Fred Parsons,’ said Fred, and sat down by the fire.

‘I really hope this place isn’t haunted,’ said Flora, with a nervous laugh. ‘Is your auntie’s house haunted, Jodie?’

As an attempt to force Jodie to speak, it had a certain charm. But Jodie just shrugged.

‘Oh! I ’ope not!’ laughed Marie-Louise. ‘I hate zat sort of thing.’

‘My granny is convinced she can communicate with the spirit of my grandpa,’ said Jess. ‘She even heard him speak out loud to her the other day.’

‘Oh, how weird!’ said Flora. ‘Can we talk about this tomorrow? It’s kind of spooky in the dark.’

‘I had a gerbil once who died,’ said Fred. ‘I wonder if I could contact his spirit and apologise for the dreary life he led in our house? They probably have pet mediums in California.’

‘Maybe the mediums themselves are animals,’ said Jess. ‘Maybe that sheepdog Betsy is a channel to the other side. Receiving messages from the previous sheepdog.’

‘I’m sorry, Jess,’ said Marie-Louise, looking puzzled. ‘I don’t h’understand what you are talking about.’

‘It’s quite all right, old bean,’ said Jess. ‘Neither do I.’

She wasn’t doing very well at the witty repartee this evening. All she could think about was Gerard. It was a full-time job, avoiding looking at him. Her eyes were desperate just to have a little tiny peep. Oh no! They escaped from her control and whizzed over to where he was.

He was looking right at her. Her stupid heart leapt. He smiled. He gave a cute little shrug, almost as if to suggest that life was beyond one’s control. Quickly Jess looked away. She didn’t like that shrug. Life ought to be at least a teensy bit more under control than
this
.

‘I think it’s inspiring,’ said Flora. ‘Imagine being so in love with someone that you can still communicate with them after they’ve died.’ There was a brief, hanging silence. Marie-Louise sniffed. Communication among the living seemed more or less to have dried up.

‘Well,’ said Jodie suddenly, ‘I’m going to bed. Fred, you’re in charge of the fire.’ Fred looked startled. ‘Douse it down or something when everybody goes to bed.’ She stomped off to the tent and, if it were possible to slam a tent door, she would have slammed it. She had to make do with the faint thwack of canvas and a nasty waspish swish of the zip.

‘Well, it would appear to be time for silly songs,’ said Fred. ‘But I’ve mysteriously lost the will to live.’

‘Let’s have one more Coke,’ said Flora. ‘Oh, they’re warm! Horrid! I’ll take a couple of bottles down to the stream.’ She got up. Gerard leapt up also.

‘I will go wiz you,’ he said, chivalrously taking the bottles from her. No doubt their fingers brushed excitingly for a moment. Flora picked up a torch.

‘Won’t be long,’ she said awkwardly, and they strolled off down the hill.

‘Right! That’s it!’ said Fred, getting to his feet. ‘Bedtime. Without violent movies on TV there is no reason to stay up late.’ He went off to the boys’ tent.

Edouard scrambled to his feet and followed him, muttering something as he went. ‘Goo’night,’ possibly.

‘I am going to bed, too, Jess,’ said Marie-Louise, looking a bit anxious. ‘But Fred has gone! What about ze fire?’ She was such a mother figure.

‘Flora can sort that out,’ said Jess acidly. ‘She’s hot stuff.’ Jess felt quite scorched inside from Flora’s latest bit of playing with fire.

In the girls’ tent it was dark. Jodie was lying with her back to everybody, almost completely hidden in her sleeping bag, Jess and Marie-Louise got undressed in silence and slipped into their bags.

Jess lay for some time with her eyes open. The faint breathing noises and the creak of canvas, the sound of the wind in the trees and the occasional hoot of an owl outside were all, in theory, wonderful. But Jess was too upset to enjoy any of it. She just wished she was a million miles away. In fact, she wished she was at home. OK, she’d been bitten by a French boy, but hardly in the manner of her dreams or by the individual of her choice.

Eventually, Jodie started to snore. And Marie-Louise seemed to be asleep, too. Jess looked at her phone to check the time. An hour and a half had passed since Flora and Gerard went down the hill to cool their bottles of Coke. There hadn’t been the sound of voices or any hint that they had returned. Jess hadn’t had a wink of sleep. She could only lie there, her tummy tied in an agonising knot, imagining Flora and Gerard down by the stream. They were probably, oh, kissing under water by now. Beside her lay Flora’s sleeping bag, empty and somehow taunting.

Suddenly somebody crept into the tent. It was Flora. Jess heard her undress and get into her bag. Flora snuggled in close and whispered, ‘Jess! Are you awake?’

Jess moved and whispered back, ‘Yeah. Can’t sleep.’ Jodie was snoring and Marie-Louise was lying on her back with her mouth open. Privacy, of a sort, was available. Jess was lying with her back to Flora, but Flora leant over on her elbow and whispered right into her ear.

‘Oh, Jess, Gerard is amazing! I so, like, totally adore him! He says I’ve always been special. He says he noticed me right from the very first day they arrived in England. I can’t wait to tell you all about it.’