Girl, 15: Flirting for England (23 page)

Whatever, she was still going to need that dictionary. Jess strolled over to the girls’ tent. This trip was such hard work. Still, it must be ten times worse for Marie-Louise if she was feeling ill in a foreign country. Jess hoped she wouldn’t catch Miami.

When Fred reappeared, they would have fun thinking of all the cities in the world that sounded like diseases. Seattle sounded a bit like a tummy upset. Kuala Lumpur. Rotterdam. Then they could spend some quality time thinking of diseases that sounded like cities. ‘I have a penfriend in Acne, Ohio.’ ‘We’re holidaying in Candida this winter.’ That should help to pass the time. Ten minutes, anyway. This amazing weekend, which they had fought so hard to create, was turning into an endless ordeal.

The idea of camping was supposed to involve a gang of mates having fabulous fun and laughter around the campfire. So where was everybody? Jodie had disappeared to the farmhouse. Gerard and Flora had disappeared somewhere down by the river. Marie-Louise had disappeared to the loo. Fred had just disappeared. Only Edouard was visible, creeping about by a distant hedge.

Jess heaved a great sigh and entered the girls’ tent. Now, where was the dictionary? She dropped down on to her knees on her sleeping bag, and suddenly saw it. Not the dictionary, a
spider
. A massive deadly black spider,
almost the size of her fist
. There it was, crouching evilly beside her pillow, grinning up at her.

Jess almost fainted. She nearly had an attack of Rotterdam right there in the tent. A red-hot rocket of terror scorched up her throat. For an instant she was paralysed with fear, then she kind of shot back through the tent door like a film being played backwards.

‘Help!’ she tried to scream, but who was going to help? Who was going to get rid of the spider before Jess actually died of fright? There was only one person available: Edouard.

‘Ed!’ called Jess, running towards him. As she ran, she realised that, for once, fate had dealt her a couple of aces. The only person around was Edouard. But Ed was the very man for the job. Ed was, after all, seriously into creepy-crawlies. He looked up as she hurtled towards him.

‘Ed!’ she gasped, arriving. ‘There’s a spider in my tent!’

Ed frowned. Oh no! She’d forgotten that he  didn’t speak English!

‘A spider!’ she shouted.

‘
Quack?
’ said Edouard.

What?
He’s quacking at me
, thought Jess.
No, it can’t be, I must have dreamt it.

‘A spi-der!’ she repeated.

‘
Quack?!
’ said Edouard.

He really is quacking
, thought Jess.
He’s turning into a freaking duck. This has to be a dream.

‘Spider in tent!’ said Jess in desperation.

‘
Quack?
’ said Edouard. Then he did the best thing ever. He produced his dictionary. Jess grabbed it. Hands shaking, she turned over the pages and found the entry. She pointed out the word, then pointed to the tent.

‘
Araignée
in tent!’ she yelled. ‘Help, please! Get rid of
araignée
!’

Edouard’s face lit up with huge delight. He ran off towards the tent as if there was a big box of chocolate biscuits waiting for him there. Jess followed warily. She was certainly not going to accompany Ed. He was on his own.

He disappeared into the tent. Jess stayed outside. There was a pause and little rustling sounds from within.

‘
Journer purrpar latroovee!
’ he called. Oh no. Not that again. He’d gone off into Elvish.

Jess peeped in gingerly through the door. Edouard was lifting up the sleeping bags and peering under them.

‘Find, Eddie!’ said Jess. She was just going to ignore whatever Ed said and simply say things of her own. ‘Fetch! Good dog!’

Suddenly Edouard became still. He was staring into the far corner, by Jodie’s rucksack. Jess froze. Edouard dived. He caught it, actually in his fingers –
yeaurch!
– and transferred it into one of his little boxes. Then he came out, beaming with joy. He put the box in his pocket. Jess simply could not imagine how he could do such a thing. Forget France – this guy was from another planet.

‘
C’est magnifique!
’ he said. Even Jess knew what that meant.

‘
Merci!
’ she said, and patted him on the back. Not in an amorous way at all. Just the kind of way you might pat a jolly little dog. ‘Just one thing, though . . .’ Jess somehow couldn’t help herself. ‘What was all that quacking business earlier?’

‘
Quack?
’ said Edouard.

‘You’re doing it again!’ said Jess. ‘Quack! What is quack?’

‘
Quack?
’ said Edouard.

At this point, luckily, Marie-Louise arrived. She had clearly spent a few minutes in the loo, doing deep breathing and stuff, and was now more in control of herself.

‘Marie-Louise,’ said Jess, ‘what does
quack
mean? Edouard keeps quacking at me.’

‘Ah!’ said Marie-Louise. ‘
Quoi
means “what” in English. Like, “What did you say?”’

‘Ah! I see,’ said Jess. ‘At least I’ve learnt one new word of French, so this weekend hasn’t been totally wasted.’

‘
Quoi?
’ quacked Marie-Louise. Jess had spoken too fast.

‘Nothing,’ said Jess. ‘Now tell me, Marie-Louise: what is your problem?’

‘Eet iz stupide,’ said Marie-Louise. Jess put her arm round her, in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. Gestures are kind of important when verbal communication is tricky.

‘I’m sure eet iz not stupide,’ said Jess. Oh no! She was trying so hard to empathise with Marie-Louise, she had started speaking with a cod French accent!

‘Eet iz mon ami,’ said Marie-Louise. ‘My boyfriend. Pascal.’

‘What iz wrong wiz ’eem?’ enquired La Jess.

‘My friends in France send me texts. Zey say ee iz wiz uzzair gairlz.’ Marie-Louise’s voice was trembling, and her French accent was getting stronger and stronger. Any minute now she might plunge into Elvish.

Pascal was seeing other girls?
Ze swine! All boys are peegs!
thought Jess.
Oh no. I’m even thinking in a French accent now.
She had to reassure Marie-Louise, though. She didn’t want to have to deal with any more of that French crying.

‘Why don’t you telefon to eem?’ asked Jess. ‘Ask eem if eet iz true.’

‘My phone iz not workingue henny more!’ cried Marie-Louise in despair. ‘Eet have no charge!’

‘Well, borrow mine!’ cried Jess, producing it with a flourish. Marie-Louise actually smiled. Then she grabbed hold of Jess and kissed her bouncily on both cheeks.

‘Sank you, Jess!’ she said. ‘You are vairy kind!’

‘Off you go!’ said Jess, recovering her English accent. ‘Phone him. Talk for as long as you like.’

Jess staggered back to the fireside and threw another log on. She lay down on one of the blankets. Marie-Louise walked off down the field to find some privacy. Edouard had gone off to play with his fabulous state-of-the-art new spider. There was a moment of peace and quiet.

Jess closed her eyes. She felt shattered. Nothing was quite so tiring as emotional trauma. Except possibly emotional trauma in a foreign language. But the warmth of the fire and the spring sunshine soothed her. Jess drifted off into a light doze. She knew she was still by the campfire, but she was deeply relaxed.

Suddenly she heard a footstep nearby. Maybe Marie-Louise had come back and was eager for more counselling. Selfishly, perhaps, Jess decided to pretend to be asleep. She kept her eyes firmly closed and tried to look deeply, blissfully asleep. Then somebody sat down beside her. Heavily.

‘Right!’ said Jodie’s voice, sounding very tight and seething with poison. ‘I’ve decided I’m going to go home.’

Jess’s eyes snapped open. It seemed there was a brand-new crisis for her to deal with. Frankly, life would have been a lot more restful in a riot.

Chapter 31

Jess sat up and, to gain a little time, rubbed her eyes. How was she going to calm Jodie down and turn her from a wounded lion into a cute playful kitten by the time Flora came back to the campfire? For a moment she thought how restful it would be if Jodie
did
go home. But no, it would be really awkward – after all, they were camping in Jodie’s aunt’s field.

If she flounced off home now, Jodie would be sulking all month, right through the Easter holidays and beyond. And, after all, Jess was really fond of Jodie. When she was in a good mood she was loads of fun. And it must be really embarrassing having your French exchange partner getting all loved up with somebody else when everybody knew you fancied him yourself.

‘OK,’ she said. ‘Let me get my head round this. First things first. Have you had any breakfast?’

‘Well, as a matter of fact,’ said Jodie, ‘I did grab a piece of toast in my auntie’s kitchen.’

‘Great!’ said Jess. ‘What did you have on it? Marmalade?’

‘Well, if you really must know,’ snapped Jodie, ‘bacon.’

‘So you had a bacon sandwich!’ Jess was beginning to feel jealous. ‘Great! With ketchup?’

‘Oh, shut up about food, Jess,’ said Jodie. ‘You’re such a pig. There are other things in life, believe it or not.’

‘Listen,’ said Jess, ignoring Jodie’s insult, ‘I’m your fairy godmother. All my spells are at your disposal. What shall I do? Your wish is my command.’

Jodie still looked grumpy, but you could see she was considering the idea.

‘Make elephants fly,’ she said eventually. ‘Make them fly in formation over Flora’s head and dump on her, one by one.’

‘Certainly, it shall be done,’ said Jess. ‘And might we suggest personal disfigurement as well? After all, elephant poo can be washed off, but huge nostrils like craters could last a lifetime.’ The vaguest hint of a smile crossed Jodie’s face.

‘Disfigurement, yes . . .’ she mused. ‘Let’s give her the bum of an ogre.’

‘May I suggest the bum of a flatulent green ogre?’ said Jess. ‘Green’s very NOW. It’s the new black. And possibly mossy green teeth to match?’

Jodie grinned, and the grin stayed. Hmmm. This seemed to be working.

‘Not that I would give up on black,’ said Jess. ‘Certainly, in the form of blackheads, they offer a very attractive option.’

‘All over her face!’ enthused Jodie. ‘And instead of hair, she should have bristles.’

‘Scales?’ suggested Jess. ‘With lashings of slime? And every time she opens her mouth, instead of words a fart comes out?’

Jodie laughed. Actually laughed out loud. Jess felt a flush of triumph. Could she build on this change of mood? Could she complete the comedy therapy and coax Jodie towards kittenhood?

‘Unbelievable! I almost feel sorry for her!’ said Jodie. Then she clenched her teeth and sort of growled. ‘Not quite, though.’

‘Someone I really do feel sorry for,’ said Jess, moving swiftly on, ‘is Marie-Louise. Apparently her boyfriend back in France is seeing other girls and she keeps getting texts warning her.’

‘Oh no!’ Jodie dropped her head in her hands for a moment. ‘Was I very rude to her?’