Girl, (Nearly) 16: Absolute Torture! (4 page)

Jess looked up at him and shook her head dolefully.

‘I can’t think of anything more wonderful,’ she said. ‘This is so sweet of you, Fred. To use up all your savings like that and organise this brilliant, brilliant surprise for me. But there’s a problem.’

‘What?’ said Fred, urgently. He had uttered only one word. He was clearly already deeply troubled and he hadn’t even heard the worst of it yet.

‘My mum informed me this afternoon that she’s taking me away on a holiday the day after tomorrow,’ said Jess.

Fred’s shoulders slumped. He suddenly looked only about 5’7” instead of his usual 5’11”. He said . . . nothing. For Fred to be speechless was, perhaps, a first in the history of the world.

Chapter 5

‘What’s worse,’ sobbed Jess, ‘is that we’re going to be away for ages – it could be weeks.’

It wasn’t very attractive, this crying business. Her eyes filled with tears, but somehow, so did her nose.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m being disgusting.’

Fred reached up into the tree and picked a leaf. He offered it to her.

‘Wipe your nose on this,’ he suggested.

Jess tried, but the leaf wasn’t quite as absorbent as she had hoped, and only spread slime all over her face. She threw it away. Even nature seemed against them.

‘Here,’ said Fred. He pulled his shirt up and tenderly wiped her face with it. ‘Don’t cry,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s all right.’

He drew her close to him. She laid her head against his chest.

‘Don’t cry any more,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s quite all right. I’ll just . . . I’ll just have to take Jodie, that’s all.’

‘Fred! You pig!’ Jess whirled round, grabbed his shirt and shook him. They wrestled playfully for a moment or two. He was laughing, but more in desperation than anything.

‘Just a joke, just a joke!’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t share a tent with Jodie if I was in Antarctica and my survival depended on it!’

‘It’s not very funny, though, is it?’ Jess sighed. ‘What a totally vile scenario. Everything’s against us.’

‘Well, at least our families aren’t involved in a blood-feud,’ said Fred. They had watched the DVD of
Romeo and Juliet
quite recently. ‘My mother thinks you’re some kind of princess. In fact, I think she would gladly swap me for you in part-exchange if you were available on eBay.’

‘Your mum is so cool,’ said Jess.

‘Well, she clearly thinks that you’re my only chance of staying out of jail,’ said Fred. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve told your mum about us yet?’ He looked just a tiny bit irritated. It was getting to be a bit of an issue between them.

Jess sighed. She was glad Fred’s mother liked her, and indeed she herself adored the dear lady. But while her own mum had no objection to Fred as an individual, if she knew he had become Jess’s boyfriend, she would immediately reclassify him as vermin and set a boy-trap by the front door, baited with a large piece of cheese.

‘What sort of holiday is it?’ asked Fred. ‘Is it already booked and everything?’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Jess, ‘knowing my mum. She’s very last-minute. She’s got this obsession about taking me on a tour through England and torturing me with history and botany and stuff. We’re heading for St Ives, down in Cornwall, to see my dad.’

‘Ah! Your dad!’ said Fred. ‘But you’ve been wanting to go down and see him for ages. In fact, you’ve bored me to death with the subject recently. And I’m sure the eccentric old chap would love to see you.’

Fred pondered for a moment, then brightened.

‘Hey! Maybe, if it’s not all finalised yet, your mum wouldn’t mind leaving a few days later. So we could go to Riverdene first,’ he said. But he didn’t sound very convinced. ‘At least ask her. Explain the situation. Remind her of my many sterling qualities.’

‘I’ll ask her,’ said Jess with a heavy heart. ‘But don’t expect a miracle.’

‘Well,’ said Fred, ‘my advice is go home, do the washing-up and tell her she’s the best mum in the world. Unfortunately the florists are all closed, but as you said, the world is against us. You could try presenting Riverdene as an educational experience.’

Jess sighed. ‘I’ll try,’ she said. ‘But to be honest, I don’t think there’s a chance in a million of her saying yes.’

‘Never mind,’ said Fred. ‘Just give it your best shot. And text me as soon as you get her reaction. I’ll have to go home and watch something of unsurpassed violence on TV. Ah, where would we be without our visual comfort food? Flesh-eating zombies here I come! But first – may I suggest . . . the goodnight kiss?’

Ten minutes later Jess detached herself, most reluctantly, from Fred’s arms.

‘Send me a text tonight,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll be waiting with ludicrous eagerness.’

‘OK,’ said Jess. ‘Although I’ll have to find my freakin’ mobile first.’

Jess ran up her front path and then looked back. Fred was standing under a street light, watching her. He raised his hand and waved. A little throb of adoration ran through her.

Ah, he even waved more sweetly than anybody else in the world! Jess tore her eyes away, trudged up her front path with a sinking feeling and, having discovered that she’d forgotten her keys, rang the doorbell.

Five seconds later the door was thrown open by her mum. She was actually quivering with rage.

‘Where on earth have you been?’ she yelled. ‘Look at the time! It’s ten past eleven! You disappeared at five o’clock and I’ve heard absolutely nothing since! Not a call, not a text – nothing! For all I knew you’d been strangled! Lying in a ditch, somewhere! I’ve been absolutely beside myself!’

‘Sorry,’ said Jess meekly and shot indoors past her mum as fast as possible, cringing like a dog expecting to be whipped. Her mother would never dream of laying a finger on her, of course – but with a ferocious tongue like hers, a verbal beating-up was far more effective anyway. ‘I’ve just been at Flora’s, that’s all.’

‘Get to bed!’ snapped her mother. ‘I don’t want to hear another word! You’ll be the death of me! I do my very best to look after you, love you, care for you, plan treats for you, and what do I get in return? A kick in the teeth.’

‘Sorry, Mum,’ said Jess, from the top of the stairs. ‘I’m really sorry.’

It didn’t seem the right moment to launch the tricky subject of Riverdene. And it didn’t seem likely that the right moment would arrive for weeks, months or even years.

Chapter 6

Jess came down in the morning very bleary-eyed. She had slept badly and had dreamed that she’d microwaved a friend’s pet gerbil in a moment of absent-mindedness. It wasn’t the ideal start to the day.

Mum was glowering at the breakfast table. Granny was smiling serenely over a newspaper account of a man who had run amok in a garden centre with a stainless steel spade.

Jess kissed the top of Granny’s head and put her arm round her mum.

‘Don’t try and soft-soap me,’ said Mum. ‘I’m still very cross about last night.’

‘Never let the sun set on your anger, Madeleine,’ said Granny. A bit rich, coming from a woman whose chief interest in life was murder.

‘I’m really sorry, Mum,’ said Jess, plugging her mobile into the charger. She had finally found it, under a pile of music magazines on her bedroom floor. ‘The only reason I didn’t ring you was my mobile had run out of charge.’

The first lie of the morning. Although it wasn’t such a terribly wicked lie – her mobile had run out of charge, after all. It was just that Jess hadn’t had it with her last night. So it was a lie containing a tasty little nugget of truth, like one of those chocolates with a nut in the middle. Jess felt that at least she’d got off to a flying lying start, and helped herself to a bowl of cornflakes.

‘You could have rung from Flora’s,’ said Mum with a glare.

Jess could not deny it. She just shrugged and tried hard to look contrite.

‘I’m really, really sorry,’ she said, crunching the cornflakes as innocently as possible. ‘I’ll never do it again.’

‘Huh!’ said her mum. She got up from the table, cleared away her plate and started to pack. She put a pile of guides and maps into a cardboard box marked BAKED BEANS.

My family is so
trashy, thought Jess.
I wish we had lovely old distinguished leather suitcases like Flora’s family has.

Jess was wondering how on earth she was ever going to broach the subject of Fred and Riverdene. Maybe she would just never find the necessary courage.

‘So how is Flora?’ asked Granny, perhaps hoping that, since they had last met, Flora might have been arrested for a homicide.

‘Oh, she’s more or less heartbroken,’ said Jess. ‘They’ve had to cancel that fabulous holiday in Costa Rica. Her mum’s broken her leg.’

‘What?’ Jess’s mum stopped packing. ‘Oh no! Oh dear! That lovely holiday! How terrible! How did it happen?’

‘She slipped in the bathroom,’ said Jess. She was relieved that at last they were talking about something other than her own crimes. ‘Getting out of the bath.’

‘How awful! And poor Flora! She was so much looking forward to that holiday!’ said Mum again, looking devastated.

Jess was beginning to get irritated. OK, it was fine to feel sympathy for Flora’s cancelled holiday, sure, but Jess wouldn’t have minded a little motherly sympathy for her own tragic dilemma. Although, come to think of it, her mum
was
her own tragic dilemma.

‘Yeah,’ she agreed. ‘Poor Flora.’ Then suddenly a brilliant, brilliant idea shot across her mind, like a jet-propelled banana. ‘But we’ve hatched a plot to cheer her up.’