How to Get the Friends You Want (3 page)

Matt was standing at the bottom of our steps, waiting. Sam's very old so he only has two speeds – slow on the flat and super-slow on stairs.

‘Are you going already?' I asked. ‘I wanted to take Sam for a walk.'

I had lots to talk about and Sam was the best listener. He finally made it to the bottom of the steps and held his head up for me to stroke.

‘Sorry,' said Matt. ‘I've got to go. But your dad's just got home, so I don't suppose you'd want to go straight out again anyway.'

Mum, Dad and Primrose were in the kitchen, drinking fizzy apple juice out of champagne
glasses. Mum poured some for me. Dennis had jumped up onto a chair and had his front paws on the table, which he isn't supposed to do. He was eating Dad's newspaper but no-one else seemed to have noticed.

‘Hello Peony!' goes Dad, giving me a hug. ‘What do you think about your old dad being Agony Aunt of the Year, then?'

He looked like the cat that got the cream. Or rather, the cat that ate all the sweets and made himself over-excited.

‘I'm on the front page of the London Evening News – look!'

We all looked. Mum scooped Dennis up off the chair and put him down on the floor. She shook out what was left of the newspaper. Bits flew all over the place. Most of the front page was shredded.

‘He's eaten it!' wailed Dad.

‘I know what,' said Mum. ‘Let's go upstairs and watch the DVD again!'

So I got to see Dad's interview for the third time, only this time he gave us a running commentary.

‘That's Kay!' he said, pointing to the agony aunt with the pink lips and purple hair. ‘She lives just up the road in Devon... Can you tell I'm wearing make-up...? See what I did there, I waited and he answered for me!'

‘We saw that,' said Primrose. She was in a good mood again now, so she was enjoying Dad's interview much more than first time around. To be fair, since she's been going out with Matt she's nearly always in a good mood, except when she's just got out of bed. Then she's like a lion with toothache and you just have to keep out of her way.

When the interview finished, Dad said, ‘I was good, wasn't I? I can't believe I nearly didn't go!'

There were two reasons why Dad hadn't wanted to go to the presentation dinner – one, he doesn't like doing anything that he doesn't have to do, and two, he didn't want his friends to find out that he'd been filling in for Daphne. It was embarrassing, he said, a sports reporter having to stand in for an agony aunt.

But Ed wouldn't let him get out of it. ‘It'll be good publicity for the Three Towns Gazette and a free feed for you,' he'd said. ‘That's what I call a win-win situation!'

Mum had told Dad not to worry. Although the dinner was going to be on TV there would be tons of people there – no-one would even notice him.

It had never crossed anyone's mind that he might actually win.

‘Everyone will have seen me getting the award!' Dad said happily. It seemed that being
an agony aunt was only embarrassing if you were average at it – if you were the best in the country, it suddenly wasn't embarrassing at all.

‘It should really have been Mr Kaminski who won it,' said Mum.

‘And Gran,' I said. ‘She's been checking his spellings and stuff.'

Dad didn't seem to hear. He was busy switching on his laptop to see if he could find a copy of the picture Dennis had shredded on the London Evening News website.

Mum gave up and changed the subject. ‘So you've got some new friends, Peony. Did you have a nice time at Sasha's?'

‘I've got some new friends too,' Dad said, before I had a chance to answer. ‘The other agony aunts – they love me! We're going to do video conferencing.'

‘They only love you because they think you're Daphne,' Mum pointed out. ‘And they'd only be “the other” agony aunts if you really were an agony aunt yourself.'

‘Here I am!' cried Dad, finding the picture. He turned his laptop round so we could see it.

It looked as if being famous might be going to his head.

Toby was still off school the next day and Jess had cello at lunchtime. Tammy and Abina were going to netball practice and Sasha asked me if I wanted to go along with her and watch. That's what they do. Even if they aren't all taking part, they go along and support each other.

It would never have crossed my mind to go and listen to Jess learning to play her cello, which just went to show how much I had to learn about having proper friends.

When I got home from school, Matt and Sam were already there and Primrose was making banana milkshakes. She put an extra banana in the food-mixer for me and sloshed in a bit more milk.

Whenever Matt was around, Primrose turned into the Best Big Sister in the World to impress him. It was just a shame that, knowing Primrose, it couldn't last. Sooner or later, she was bound to mess it up.

I took Sam for a walk down into town. It was a chilly day and he seemed to go even slower than usual. By the time we got to the harbour I was so cold I couldn't feel my face.

Walking back up the hill, I gave in and carried him most of the way. I put him down at the bottom of our steps and waited for him to start climbing up. But he looked at me in that steady way dogs look at you when they want something, and he didn't stop looking until I picked him up again.

I carried Sam up the steps. The lights were on in the house and the kitchen windows were all steamed up, so Mum must be home from work, cooking tea.

The upside of Mum having a gardening business was that she got home early every day in the winter. The downside was that she was too good at it – the gardens she looked after produced so much fruit and veg that people had started giving her boxes to bring home.

We had been working our way all week through a big box of parsnips someone had given her. In case you're lucky enough not to know, a parsnip looks like a carrot that's lost its colour and crunch. It's kind of greyish-cream and mostly turns to mush when you cook it, which wouldn't matter if it tasted nice.

Mum had made mushy parsnip chips, mushy parsnip crisps and mushy parsnip pie over the weekend, and we still had plenty of parsnips left for a few more days of pain.

I put Sam down on the rug in front of the radiator and he sat there looking sorry for himself. Dennis bounced over to give him a good sniff, but Sam ignored him.

‘Poor thing,' said Mum. ‘He doesn't like this cold weather.'

My face was beginning to thaw out.

‘What are you making?' I asked.

‘Parsnip pudding,' said Mum. Oh, joy!

I sat down on the rug next to Sam and scooped Dennis up onto my lap for his daily grooming
session. He used to wriggle when I tried to brush him but then I discovered all you have to do is hold your free hand close to his face, flat and low, and then he'll push his nose underneath it and keep completely still.

It says in You and Your Rabbit that if your rabbit leaps around rubbing things with his chin he's saying ‘This is mine!', but if he puts his chin on the ground and dips his nose underneath your hand or the arch of your foot that means ‘You're the boss,' and he stops leaping around and relaxes.

I was planning to put Dennis in the Polgotherick Pet Parade and that's why I was brushing him every day. I had three weeks to get him looking his absolute best. Not that he needed much help – he was naturally adorable!

For the last three years, Mrs Bolitho's parrot had won first prize in the pet parade, just because he could say ‘Who's a pretty boy?' but he wasn't really that pretty any more. His feathers were looking tatty and he'd taken to sticking out his tongue, which was all black and leathery. There was no way the judges could choose him again, not with Dennis in the competition.

Dennis stayed calm even when Dad burst in, dumped his coat on the table with a flourish, and announced that he had had a brilliant day at
work. Ed was delighted with him and everyone in the office thought he was the bee's knees.

‘My mates from football have been texting me all day,' he said. ‘They've been calling me Daphne!'

He was so excited he could hardly keep still.

‘What's for supper, Jan? Parsnip pudding? My favourite!'

He was practically jumping up and down. It was just a shame the nose-under-hand thing didn't work with human beings.

There was a knock at the door and Gran walked in.

‘Mum!' goes Dad, giving her a big hug. ‘Did you see me on TV?'

Mum said, ‘Are you staying for supper, Gwen? There's plenty to go round.'

Before Gran could answer, Mr Kaminski put his head round the door. He always seemed to arrive like magic whenever Gran came round. He was wearing a new green cardigan with a blue stripe down one sleeve, Dad's latest thank-you present for doing the problem page.

‘Would you like to join us for supper, Mr Kaminski?' said Mum.

When it comes to eating parsnip pudding, you can do with all the help you can get, so it was good we had Matt, Gran and Mr Kaminski crammed in
round the kitchen table with us when Mum got it out of the oven.

The parsnip pudding was puffed up like a pile of cotton wool, but as soon as Mum put it down on the mat it collapsed and went wrinkly.

‘I see you on television, Dave,' said Mr Kaminski, as Mum started dishing up. ‘You are very good. You are star!'

‘I couldn't have done it without your help,' goes Dad.

What did he mean, without Mr Kaminski's help? He couldn't have done it without Mr Kaminski doing it!

We had mashed potatoes and cabbage with the parsnip pudding, which made three heaps of greyish mush. At times like this you've got to be grateful to the person who invented ketchup.

Dad talked about his TV adventure all the way through the meal and then Mum collected up the plates. She didn't seem to notice I had hidden most of my parsnip pudding under my knife and fork.

‘I've got some exciting news myself,' Gran said, finally managing to get a word in edgeways. ‘I'm getting the keys to my new house this weekend!'

‘The sale has gone through?' cried Mum. ‘That's fantastic!'

Everyone gave Gran a hug, even Matt and
Mr Kaminski. Actually, Mr Kaminski gave her an especially big hug.

‘Is wonderful,' he said, finally letting her go. ‘We do boat trips now, yes?'

That was the plan. Gran had given up teaching old people to surf in St Ives and was coming back to live in Polgotherick. She was going to run boat trips round the harbour, and Mr Kaminski was going to help. Gran had lots of great plans but they didn't all work out, so I hoped Mr Kaminski wasn't going to be disappointed.

‘I can't wait to get my hands on that garden!' said Mum.

Gran's new house was only a few minutes' walk from ours, over the stile at the top of Harbour Row and out on the coastal path. It had been empty for ages and the garden was like a jungle. It was called Nash House.

‘I won't be able to move in until the workmen have done the central heating and everything,' Gran said. ‘But Jane says I can stay as long as I like at the Happy Haddock.'

Jane was Gran's old school friend and she ran the pub at the far end of the harbour. I thought, ‘I bet Jane was the kind of friend who went along to watch when Gran had swimming club and stuff.' I wondered if me and Sasha would still be friends when we were a squillion years old.

After everyone had gone I sat on the floor in front of the radiator again and Dennis came lolloping over. I held my hand close to the ground. He pushed his nose underneath my fingers and I gently stroked his side with my other hand.

Everything was perfect. Dad was famous, Mum's business was going well, Primrose was in a good mood. Gran was moving back to Polgotherick and Dennis was going to win the top prize at the pet parade. As well as Toby and Jess, now the coolest girls in the class wanted to be friends with me.

Life was good, like a big shiny bubble. But the problem with bubbles is, they burst.