Girl, Going on 16: Pants on Fire (12 page)

‘Are you going back to school, dear?’ said Granny, as Jess finished the last of her milkshake. ‘Or would you like to watch a
Miss Marple
DVD with me? I’d like to see that one again – the one about the body in the library.’

Jess hesitated. She
so
needed to get back to school, to go straight to Mr Powell’s office, fall face down on his carpet and beg his forgiveness. That was the only sensible thing to do – her only hope of stopping the rot. Since the start of this term she had somehow got caught in an ever-tighter web of evil.

But the thought of going back to school and confronting Mr Powell filled her with such absolute dread, she just couldn’t face it. Not right now.

‘No, it’s OK, Granny,’ said Jess. ‘I’d love to see
Miss Marple
with you. I don’t have to go back to school today because there’s a – a staff meeting to reorganise the timetable and they’re letting us all off early.’

‘Well, that is a stroke of luck,’ said Granny. ‘Let’s have some hot chocolate, shall we?’

Though she was still bursting from her recent lunch, Jess could not but agree, and volunteered to make the hot choc while Granny went to find the DVD.

The kettle was almost boiling when the phone rang. Jess had grabbed it before she’d realised it would have been better to let it ring.

‘Hello?’ she said cautiously. She must not reveal her identity.

‘Jess Jordan?’ said a brisk man’s voice.

‘Er – yes,’ said Jess, catastrophically unable to lie for the first time in months.

‘This is Mr Powell. Why aren’t you in school? You were supposed to come and see me. What’s your explanation?’

Jess’s heart jolted into a mad samba rhythm and, disastrously, the kettle came to the boil and emitted a long drawn-out wailing whistle. Jess reached out madly to turn the gas off, and somehow knocked the open jar of chocolate powder off the table. It flew through the air, scattering brown dust in all directions, before landing on Mum’s slippers.

‘I’m terribly sorry,’ said Jess. ‘But I slipped on the school field and got covered in mud, so I thought I’d better just quickly dash home and get changed, and when I arrived I discovered that my granny wasn’t well.’

‘Who’s that on the phone, dear?’ enquired Granny, perkily and healthily, from the doorway.

‘It’s all right, Granny, it’s not about the ambulance,’ said Jess, winking in what she hoped was a helpfully clear message:
Don’t say another word and please get out of here now
.

‘The
ambulance
, dear?’

‘Yes, Granny. It won’t be long. Go and lie down again. Sorry, Mr Powell, it’s just that my granny doesn’t feel at all well – she thinks she might be having a heart attack, so I’ve called an ambulance. It’ll be here in a minute.’

‘Where are your parents?’

‘My mum’s at the library and my dad’s in Cornwall.’

‘Does your mother know what’s happening?’

‘Er . . .’ Jess wasn’t sure what the best answer would be. If her mother didn’t know what was happening, it would make it even more important for Jess to stay at home looking after Granny. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I tried to ring her at the library but I couldn’t get through.’

‘Don’t worry,’ said Mr Powell, in masterful head of year mode. ‘I’ll ring the library and tell her. Don’t leave your grandmother. Keep her upright and loosen her clothing. And I want to see you in my office as soon as you are back at school.’

‘Yes, of course,’ said Jess.

Mr Powell put the phone down, no doubt to ring Jess’s mum and break the dreadful news.

Jess ran through into Granny’s room. She wasn’t in the mood for
Miss Marple
right now. In fact she was so panicky and frazzled that for a split second she thought an ambulance really would be arriving in a few minutes.

‘Why did you tell me to go and lie down?’ asked Granny, looking rather cross.

‘Granny,’ said Jess, ‘I’ve done a terrible thing.’

‘What’s that, dear?’ Granny looked worried.

‘I told a lie,’ said Jess, unable to remember clearly which lie was which. ‘That was Mr Powell, our head of year. I’m not supposed to be at home, you see. For some stupid reason I told him you weren’t well. So I wouldn’t have to go back to school today. I told him you thought you might be having a heart attack and we’d called an ambulance.’

Granny didn’t say anything for a while. She was obviously thinking.

‘I’m so sorry, Granny,’ Jess went on. ‘But I got myself into a kind of silly mess. I really did get mud all over my skirt. I didn’t mean to involve you.’

‘The thing is, dear . . .’ Granny spoke at last.

Jess prayed that Granny would forgive, play ball, nay, agree to go along with the charade. Maybe she’d even be a real sport and pretend she’d had chest pains. Though actually calling a real ambulance might be going a bit too far. And – help! – Jess would have to ring the library right away, to tell her mum it was all a misunderstanding.

‘It’s a bit of a coincidence,’ said Granny, looking rather embarrassed for once. ‘I haven’t been feeling all that well recently. In fact, I’ve made an appointment to see the doctor this evening while your mum’s teaching the Japanese chappie, and I’d be very grateful if you’d come with me, dear, just to keep me company, you know, and hold my hand. And whatever you do, don’t say anything to your mum.’

Jess’s heart leapt in fear. For a moment it seemed as if she was the one who would be experiencing cardiac arrest. Granny was really ill! So ill she didn’t want to mention it to Mum! Oh no! Jess was sure she was being punished for her terrible behaviour.
Please God,
she prayed urgently,
don’t let Granny die!
It was such a long time since she had last prayed, though, that she was afraid God would be really cheesed off and send the Grim Reaper along anyway, just to spite her.

Chapter 14

‘Of course I will, Granny!’ said Jess. ‘You don’t think it’s your heart, do you? Maybe we should ring an ambulance anyway.’

‘No, no, I don’t want a blasted ambulance,’ said Granny rather irritably. ‘I want to watch
Miss Marple
. It’s just a sort of giddy thing that happens sometimes. I don’t want your mum to know because she’s such a hypochondriac. She’ll be looking it up on the internet and telling me I’ve got some awful disease.’

‘Right! Right!’ said Jess. It was true, her mum did worry. In fact, she’d be worrying now – Jess simply
had
to ring the library. She raced into the kitchen and found the number, which was helpfully written on the door of the fridge in Jess’s childhood magnetic letters. It was spelt deliberately wrongly –
LIBRY
– because they hadn’t been able to find any As. Jess dialled, and the phone rang for ages. Eventually somebody answered, in a quiet sort of library voice. Jess recognised Alison, Mum’s colleague.

‘Alison – it’s Jess! Can I speak to Mum, please?’

‘Oh, Jess – she’s just gone. She had a message that your granny’s had a heart attack.’

‘No, no, it’s OK! I was with Granny and she feels much better now so we’ve cancelled the ambulance!’

‘Well, don’t worry, dear – she’ll be home in a minute,’ said Alison.

‘But there’s no need for her to come! Granny’s fine!’

‘Maybe you should ring her mobile, then,’ said Alison. ‘I’m so glad everything’s all right. I’ve got to go, Jess – we’re terribly short-staffed today.’

Jess went back into Granny’s room. Granny had started the DVD and was watching various trailers for other whodunnits.

‘Mum’s coming home,’ she said.

Granny looked alarmed.

‘What for?’

‘Mr Powell rang and told her you’d had a heart attack,’ said Jess.

‘What? What? I’ve lost track of it all!’ said Granny.

‘It was my fault,’ said Jess. ‘I’m afraid I got into a bit of a tangle. I kind of panic when I’m cornered and I say the first thing that comes into my head.’

‘Ring her mobile, dear, and tell her I’m perfectly OK,’ said Granny. ‘I don’t want to bother her, and
Miss Marple
’s starting now, look.’

The cosy signature tune of
Miss Marple
wafted across the room, suggesting country lanes, gossipy villages and people getting stabbed suddenly in areas of outstanding natural beauty. Jess ran back to the kitchen and dialled Mum’s mobile. She got the answering service. Mum always switched her mobile off when she was driving. There was nothing to do but wait and watch
Miss Marple
until Mum came home.

They were just into the first appearance of the sinister curate when the front door opened and Mum rushed in.

‘Mum!’ she cried, kneeling by Granny’s chair and grabbing her hand. ‘Are you OK? What happened?’

‘Nothing, dear,’ said Granny placidly. ‘I’m fine. It was a misunderstanding.’

‘What do you mean?’ cried Mum, evidently irritated as well as relieved.

‘It wasn’t a
complete
misunderstanding, Granny,’ said Jess. ‘You did have a bad chest pain, and I was just about to phone the ambulance when Mr Powell rang.’

‘But what was Mr Powell doing, ringing you?’ asked Mum. ‘And why are you at home?’

‘Oh,’ said Jess, trying to sound immensely casual and accomplished, ‘I slipped on the school field and got covered in mud, so I came home to change. Mr Powell was just checking I was OK.’

Suddenly the phone rang, and Mum went out to answer it. Phew! Jess had a few minutes to try and improve her story. On the other hand, what if it was Mr Powell on the phone again, or even worse, Miss Thorn? Then Mum would get to hear the ghastly truth about Jess’s career of crime. But beyond the soundtrack of the DVD, Jess could hear her mum
giggling
!

It obviously wasn’t Mr Powell or Miss Thorn. What a relief. But who on earth was it? Mum almost never giggled on the phone. The sound was unusual and alarming.

‘What a lovely idea!’ Mum was saying. ‘Thank you so much! I’d love to! . . . Yes, fine. After the lesson. Yes, come early . . . See you tonight then, Nori.’

Ah. It was her Japanese pupil. Mum came back into the sitting room, looking kind of flushed and happy.

‘Nori’s asked me out to have some sushi tonight, after the lesson,’ she said. ‘If you don’t mind? There’s a casserole in the freezer you could have – I’ll get it out now to defrost.’

No mention of the heart attack crisis. The phone call from Nori seemed to have wiped everything from Mum’s mind. This was convenient. She went into the kitchen and got the casserole out, then came back into the sitting room.

‘I love
Miss Marple
,’ she said, sitting on the arm of the sofa. ‘I wish I could stay and watch it with you instead of going back to the library.’

‘Yes, Mum, stay!’ said Jess, pulling her arm. ‘Let’s
all
bunk off.’

‘You’re not bunking off, are you?’ said Mum, looking suddenly shocked.

‘Of course not!’ said Jess. ‘It was just a joke! Mr Powell knew all about me coming home. In fact he suggested I should go home and change. And when he found out that Granny had heart pain, he told me not to leave her alone. So I’d better not go back to school today. Although, of course, Granny’s fine, as you can see. It was just a burp, wasn’t it, Granny?’