Girls, Muddy, Moody Yet Magnificent (11 page)

.

.

21

Tam’s face twisted into hate. ‘You can’t say that, Zoe!’ she hissed. ‘You wouldn’t do that! That’s blackmail!’

‘Is it?’ I demanded. ‘Is it any worse than what you’re up to?’

‘How can you be so goddam superior, and at the same time be trying to blackmail your own sister?’ she gasped. Her eyes were wild.

‘What difference would it make to you?’ I demanded. ‘You’ll have had loads of time with Ed all summer.’

‘Not loads! Not loads! He can only get away now and then and only for an hour or so!’

‘For God’s sake!’ I snapped. ‘Listen to yourself! And think about me for once. I’m working all through this goddam summer, just to make enough money to go to Newquay. No way is Mum going to let me go alone – you know what she’s like.’

‘It’s not my fault if Mum’s being harsh about it!’

‘Yes it so
is
your fault! You told her about it way before I was ready – even though I’d specifically asked you not to!’

‘You know Mum never changes her mind about things like this!’

‘Yes she will! If you come with us, she’ll be fine about it, because you’re supposed to be the
grown-up
one. None of the B&Bs will accept people our age without letters of consent from our parents – if they accept us at all.
You
went to Newquay when you were my age – all I’m asking you to do is give me a bit of support so
I
can go there.’

‘I was older than you when I went,’ objected Tam. ‘And anyway, Newquay’s mank. You’ll be totally disappointed.’

‘Let me find out what it’s like for myself!’ I argued. ‘I might like it! Loads of people at school have gone and they say it was ace!’

Tam got to her feet and stood angrily among the chaos of lingerie on the floor. Her hands were on her hips and she was scowling for England.

‘I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,’ she snarled. ‘Some sister you turned out to be! Blackmail!’

‘And some sister you turned out to be,’ I retorted. ‘Grabbing other people’s husbands.’

‘Oh, stop that goddam preaching!’ snapped Tam. ‘Get out of my room.’

I went back to my room. I felt like slamming the door but instead I closed it stealthily. I wanted to put on loud angry music but instead I just sat down on my bed, in silence, and listened. Sure enough, a few minutes later I heard Tam come out of her room and go downstairs. I waited, my heart thudding.

After a few minutes I heard more footsteps on the stairs – two sets this time. There was a rap on my door. Even though I was expecting it, I jumped. I’d done nothing much compared to Tam, but I still felt guilty.

‘Come in!’ I called. The door opened and Mum and Tam came in. Mum had a challenging look. I kind of squirmed, just out of habit. Tam’s face looked blank, white and hostile.

‘Tam’s just had a very generous idea,’ said Mum. ‘And I hope you realise just how lucky you are to have such a thoughtful sister.’

I arched my eyebrow sarcastically. ‘What?’ I demanded.

‘Tam’s offered to go to Newquay with you and Chloe,’ said Mum. She shook her head, while looking at me sadly as if I was a baboon. ‘I don’t want to force you to come away with us. It would be a silly waste of money, and I don’t want our holiday being spoilt by your poisonous sulks. I know what you can be like.’

I had to bite my tongue to stop myself exploding at the injustice of all this, but I kept quiet.

‘So what do you say?’ asked Mum.

‘Thanks, Tam,’ I said, putting on a bright synthetic smile. I had to try and look something like normal. ‘That’s brilliant!’ I got up off the bed and flung my arms around Tam. ‘That’s amazing!’ I yelled, trying to sound festive.

‘Bitch!’ growled Tam in my ear. Luckily it was drowned by my enthusiastic celebrations.

‘Brilliant, great,’ I said. ‘I’ll ring Chloe now to tell her. She’ll be thrilled.’

‘Just a moment, Zoe,’ said Mum, deadly serious. ‘Don’t think this gives you a licence to do whatever you want. If I hear about any stupid or irresponsible behaviour, you’ll be up to your neck in it!’ She gave me a grim glare and then went back downstairs. Tam narrowed her eyes at me for a second, then spun on her heel and stalked off to her room, shutting the door with a venomous click. It was clear she didn’t want anything more to do with me this evening – or perhaps ever. I grabbed my mobe and dialled Chloe’s number.

‘Hi, Zoe.’ Chloe sounded a bit dreary. ‘What’s new?’

‘Tam’s agreed to come to Newquay with us!’ I told her. ‘Isn’t it fantastic! So we can book into some accommodation and everything will be cool.’

‘Brilliant!’ yelled Chloe. ‘Amazing! Fantastic! Oh, I do love Tam! She’s such a star!’

‘Enough about Tam,’ I warned her. ‘You owe this to
me
, buddy, not to
her
.’

‘Well, I worship the ground you tread on,’ said Chloe excitedly. ‘This is the best news this year!’

‘Too right!’ I agreed. ‘Apart from anything else, we got horribly close today to having to go with my mum and dad.’

‘Oh God!’ gasped Chloe. ‘I mean, I love your parents, but . . .’

‘Precisely,’ I sighed. ‘That would have been torment. The history of pilchard fishing and a bonsai nursery, for a start!’

Chloe groaned. ‘Let’s get some accommodation sorted, then, shall we?’ she asked. ‘Have you got a preference? I mean, surf lodge, B&B or a camp site? We could probably qualify as a family with Tam in charge. She’s twenty, isn’t she?’

‘Yeah, in theory . . .’

After I finished talking to Chloe I went out for a stroll in the park. It looked great in the evening light. I needed fresh air, and I was kind of avoiding Tam of course. I felt triumphant because of finally getting Newquay sorted, but a bit queasy because of the way I’d had to do it. I spotted Jess Jordan and Fred under their usual tree. There was even more paper scattered around than usual.

‘Hi, guys!’ I said. ‘How’s the comedy coming along?’

‘Brilliant!’ yelled Jess, her eyes dancing. ‘We’ve got a gig lined up! It’s our first, like, proper public gig! It’ll be amazing!’

‘Wow!’ I was stunned. ‘Fantastic! When is it? I’ll be there, throwing roses from the front row!’

‘We’re so scared, though,’ Jess shuddered. ‘I’m going to wet myself! No, I’m going to run away!’

‘I’m going to wet myself
and
run away,’ said Fred. ‘Spraying urine in all directions like a Tour de France cyclist!’

‘When is it you’re doing this?’ I asked. ‘I must get tickets.’

‘It’s the tenth of December at Plunkett,’ said Jess. ‘It’s called Jailhouse Rock. It’s a rock concert, really, in aid of Amnesty International. Beast Hawkins is organising it.’

I gasped. ‘Beast Hawkins?’

‘Yeah – he’s a legend, isn’t he?’ Jess smiled happily. ‘Apparently he so impressed his bosses at Major Events that they virtually handed him the gig to organise.’ Obviously she was grateful to Beast for giving her and Fred a spot in the performance. I didn’t know what to say. I was shocked that Beast’s gig was taking place at the Plunkett. I mean, that venue is
immense.

‘The guy makes me feel feeble,’ complained Fred, and lay back on the grass. ‘He’s such an alpha male. Every time I hear the name Beast Hawkins I have to lie down and suck my thumb.’

I didn’t really want to diss Beast in front of them, so I just kept my mouth shut. One of the park keepers cycled past, ringing a hand bell – a sign they were about to close the gates. It’s such a cute old-fashioned touch – one of the reasons I really love the park.

‘Well,’ I said. ‘Gotta go, I guess. How’s Major Events, by the way?’

‘Major Events is brilliant!’ said Jess. ‘We’ve got a picnic wedding in a wood at the weekend! We’re building a kind of Robin Hood-style village with tree houses and everything!’

‘The bride’s father is loaded,’ said Fred. ‘The budget is – get this – thirty grand!’

I gasped.

‘How’s the farm?’ asked Jess, as she collected up their pieces of scribbled-on paper.

‘Smelly but kind of nice,’ I replied with a sigh. Major Events was clearly a very stylish outfit to work for, but who did I really want to spend my summer with – Beast or Oliver? OK, Oliver was kind of slow and shy: if only he had a fraction of Beast’s confidence . . . And though I didn’t trust Beast’s constant stream of slightly naughty grins, I sort of wished Oliver would smile a bit more, or even, well,
at all
. But still it was no contest. If Oliver hadn’t been at the farm, though, I would certainly have been horribly jealous of Jess and Fred’s summer of continual partying.

As I walked home I brooded a bit about the Beast thing. Wasn’t it just like life that gorgeous Oliver seemed so shy, whereas annoying Beast was so pushy! I remembered what he’d said when he asked me out – about how he’d ‘always’ wanted to. ‘It’s you I think about all the time. You’re the one who’s special.’ That sort of cliché was so typical of someone like Beast. I knew it was crap – I’d seen the way Beast looked at girls he fancied and he’d never looked at me like that. I expect he was just bored, that evening he turned up at my house and asked me out.
Beast probably said that to every girl he tried it on with – he probably said it to three different girls in any given week. With an irritated sigh, I dismissed him from my mind.

.

.

22

By the time I woke up the next day, Mum had left. She had some kind of insurance meeting in Manchester. Tam was still in bed (her job at the Turk’s Head doesn’t start till ten). So it was just me and Dad at breakfast.

‘So, it’s all sorted.’ He beamed, ladling out the egg-breads with gusto (and ketchup). ‘You and Tam go to Newquay, and Mum and I potter off into Wales or Dorset or something. Mum seems keen on a walking holiday for some reason.’

‘That’s because you are a prize porker!’ I grinned.

‘Cruel but true,’ admitted Dad. ‘My study’s so small I have to smother myself in Vaseline just to get through the door. Do you want a packed lunch?’

Dad makes five-star sandwiches, so I ordered a whole lorryload. Our picnic lunches with Brendan and Oliver had become a bit of an institution. While Dad threw cheese and lettuce and salami about, I applied two coats of mascara, and three different pink lipsticks, one on top of the other. I was going to move in on Oliver today and get him to make mad passionate lurve to me – in Latin.

‘Cheers, Dad!’ I trilled, giving the aged parent a goodbye hug. ‘I hope you have a delicious lunch too!’

‘Oh, I probably won’t do anything more than nibble a lettuce leaf,’ said Dad. ‘I’m going to spend my lunch hour ransacking the Internet for a bijou love nest in Dorset.’

‘Go for it, you romantic old podge!’ I grinned.

‘Have a good day, old boy!’ Dad beamed.

It’s always fun when it’s just Dad and me, though I wouldn’t be completely relaxed until Tam and I were friends again – but when that would happen, with us being in such a turmoil at the mo, I wasn’t quite sure.

Over breakfast I’d read my horoscope in Dad’s paper. It had said, ‘
New invitations and exciting possibilities are opening up all around you. Don’t dismiss an invitation from an unexpected quarter.’
Maybe today Oliver would make it clear he was mine.

We went into the farm kitchen first, as usual – Martin’s usually in there at a quarter to nine, shouting down the phone to all and sundry and giving everybody their orders for the day.

Apart from Martin, who was talking to Prozac and Silkvest, and Sarah, who was reading
The Rough Guide to Provence
, Lily was drifting around in a kimono, making toast.

‘Oh, hi,’ she said. ‘How’s it going?’

I introduced Chloe and we stood and watched while Lily buttered her toast and slathered loads of home-made marmalade on.

‘God, I so admire you working for Dad,’ said Lily. ‘It would drive me mad being up in that field for just ten minutes.’ She gave us a flirty wink. Sarah gazed at her in adoration, the way mothers do.

‘Lily was forced to do weeding from an early age,’ she explained. ‘One of my biggest mistakes. She now hates vegetation.’

‘My aim is to move into a seventeenth-floor apartment in the city,’ said Lily. ‘And with any luck I will never have to look at another leaf again – except as part of a fabulous side salad, of course. Well, good luck today – I hope it stays dry for you.’

She picked up her toast and a mug of tea and disappeared from the kitchen with a stylish whirl of the kimono and a slight waft of something by Armani.

‘She
is
working,’ Sarah explained apologetically. ‘I don’t want you to think she’s just lounging around at home. She does help with the farmers’ market stall on Saturdays, so she’ll be up at dawn then. And she does work four nights a week in a club in town. And she’s got a massive vacation reading list from Oxford.’

‘She works in a club?’ said Chloe. ‘Wow!!’

‘Not dancing, or anything vulgar like that,’ said Sarah quickly. ‘She’s bar staff. She’s got a lovely little uniform: crisp white shirt and pencil skirt. Very classy.’

This was obviously what Lily had told her mum. Personally I had a suspicion that she spent the evenings hanging upside down from a pole wearing nothing but a feather Sellotaped to her bum. But you couldn’t tell the parents that, could you?

Martin sent the Polish guys off to do something with tractors, and turned to us. ‘Picking and harvesting today, girls!’ he said, trying to make it sound like a special treat. ‘Brendan will show you what to do. We’ve got farmers’ markets tomorrow and Saturday, so Thursdays and Fridays are always flat out. Off you go!’

So far, disastrously, there had been no glimpse of Oliver. But as we wriggled back into our wellies and set off across the yard, we heard the sound of the rattly old Land Rover approaching. My tummy did one of its somersaults. But it was only Brendan.

‘Hey there!’ said Brendan, putting on a primeval farmer’s voice. ‘Are you lorst? There’s no public footpath through ’ere! You’re trespassin’! Get orf my land!’

There’s something about being at the wheel of a Land Rover that gives a guy sex appeal even if he’s very bad at accents.

‘Hop in!’ He reverted to his normal Irish accent. ‘I’ll get you started!’ He’d certainly got Chloe started. She giggled helplessly as she snuggled down beside him.

‘I’ve got some legendary sandwiches made by my dad,’ I informed him as we set off. ‘Or will you be too busy for lunch today?’

‘God, no!’ cried Brendan. ‘Life wouldn’t be worth living if I couldn’t have lunch with you two! And Olly, of course. Besides,’ he went on, ‘I’m going to take you to my very favourite place today – right down in the valley bottom, where there’s kingfishers sometimes.’

Brendan drove us to the field for our morning toil, gave us a large quantity of big plastic bags and buckets and showed us loads of green stuff to pick for the market stall tomorrow. He drove off, promising to collect us at one o’clock. Chloe watched the departing Land Rover with a wistful look on her face.

‘Do you think Brendan likes me?’ she sighed.

‘Of course he likes you!’ I said. ‘In twenty years’ time you’ll be running a herb farm in Ireland together with three kids and a flock of goats!’

Chloe looked pleased but a bit anxious in case this fantasy proved incorrect, and went off to do the spinach and lettuces while I harvested the herbs.

I decided to annex the fantasy for my own purposes and was soon deep in dreams of a future in which Oliver and I ran a herb farm and had three kids called Parsley, Marjoram and Basil, who all spoke Latin on Sundays. Suddenly I remembered my phone was switched off. I turned it on and right away there was a text. It was from Tam.

SORRY I WAS GRUMPY. JUST FOUND BRILLIANT FLAT FOR US IN NEWQUAY ON INTERNET – HAVE BOOKED IT! TAKE A LOOK: WWW.BLUEOCEANFLATS.COM IT’S UTTERLY FABULOUS! CU TONITE LOVE TAM XXX