The Endless Trials of Tabitha Baird

by Arabella Weir

  First, I thought, obvs, oooh, fantastic. He’s super keen all of a sudden. What a result. Here we go, I am about to be asked out on a date! Gulp. But I didn’t want to look desperate, natch, and let him see that I was thrilled that he was so mad to talk to me, so I just stood there and deliberately didn’t look at him once as he walked towards me.

  Anyway, so he gets near and then he goes all sheepish and stammery, so obviously I think, Oh my god, I was right. He is going to ask me out. He’s definitely going to ask me out cos he’s sooooo nervous.

  I mean, that’s what you’d think, wouldn’t you? A boy you’ve talked to loads and see all the time, practically every day, and who is never nervy with you, suddenly waves at you to make you stop and then is super nervous when he tries to talk to you. It all adds up, doesn’t it? You would think he was nervous because he was going to ask you out. That is what you would think, wouldn’t you? You don’t need to be a big-head – it’s just that that would be the most obvious conclusion. Durr. Behaving like that OBVIOUSLY means he’s going to ask you out.

  BUT IT TURNS OUT, IF YOU ARE ME, YOU’D BE COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY WRONG.

  Asking me out is practically the opposite of what he was trying to say. What he eventually said – oh god, I want to die – was, ‘Erm, I don’t really know how to put this but, erm, Bonnie is, well, she’s … Well, ah, you can probably tell,’ he mumbled, looking down at her.

  I didn’t have a clue what he was on about. I wondered if it was ‘she’s not really a dog’ or ‘she wants to come and live with you’ or ‘I can’t walk her any more because I’ve got a totes gorge girlfriend, so can you walk her now so I can stay at home and snog my new gf all day long?’ That last one would have been the worst, except it wouldn’t have because, as it turned out The Worst was what came next.

  Realising I wasn’t going to guess what Bonnie was, he went on. ‘Erm, it’s a bit embarrassing this, but she’s, erm, pregnant …’ And then he just stopped speaking!

  I didn’t know what to say. I stared at him and he stared back at me and this went on for so long it was like a who’s-going-to-blink-first competition. Finally he sort of shrugged his shoulders and gave me a half-grin like now that he’d told me this news everything else was as plain as day. I had no idea what I supposed to do. I couldn’t work out what on earth this had to do with me. Basil was so bored he’d actually lain down on the ground by this time.

  Eventually Sam spoke again. ‘And … Basil’s the dad … obviously.’

  Before thinking it through I blurted out (just like Mum says I always do), ‘How can he be? I mean, how did that happen?’

  What an idiot. Luckily Sam is not Luke, so he didn’t seize the chance to treat me to a ‘hilarious lecture’ on how dogs make babies. All the same, Sam did smile and gave me an ‘are you serious?’ look.

  ‘Yes, all right, thank you,’ I said. ‘I know how, erm, IT happened, obviously. I meant how … no … when did Basil … The thing is … erm … Basil and Bonnie haven’t ever been alone, have they?’

  I knew I wasn’t making sense. I was all over the shop. I just so didn’t want to be having this conversation, least of all with the boy I fancy. I mean, please, you’d think, hope and pray your conversations with a boy you like would not be about dogs and definitely not about dogs doing THAT, wouldn’t you? I could not believe I was talking about THAT with Sam. It was so utterly, completely, hopelessly humiliating.

  Sam started explaining. ‘Remember a while back when Basil got off his lead and chased Bonnie up the street like she was a squirrel covered in meat paste?’

  I fake-laughed, pretending like I was actually remembering how hilarious it was that day but OF COURSE I didn’t really remember. AS IF. When Sam and I are together I don’t remember anything either of our dogs do, ever. I don’t remember a single moment from any of the times I’ve bumped into Sam except him: his gorgeous sparkly blue eyes and glossy hair. Blimey, a bus could have turned over, cars could have crashed, both our dogs could have burst into song, and I wouldn’t have noticed. Not that I am obsessed with Sam. I am not. I just can’t hear or see anything else when he’s talking to me, all right?

  ‘Oh sorry,’ I eventually managed to say, though I was super relieved because it didn’t sound like Sam was having a go at me.

  ‘Oh no, you don’t need to be sorry. It was my fault. It turns out I shouldn’t have taken her out that day because she was … erm … you know … in … aah … on … on … err …’ Sam tailed off.

  We both knew where this was going and there was no way I was going to let him finish that sentence, so I jumped right in: ‘Yeah, yup, got it. I get it. Fine, yeah.’

  ‘Anyway, that’ll be why Basil ran after her like he did and, well, the rest is history now!’ Sam laughed. ‘My mum went mad at me for taking her out when she was, erm, you know, and letting it happen, but she’s all right since she’s found out what Westie puppies sell for. Hah, hah!’

  I sort of tried to do another fake-laugh again, but I didn’t really think it was funny at all. All I could actually think about was about how I could get away from having the conversation that I did NOT want to be having, even if it was with Sam, my current crush.

  And then we just sort of stood there. Neither of us seemed to know what to say. So thank god both our dogs starting yapping and straining at their leashes at the same time.

  Sam said, ‘Just thought I ought to let you know …’ and then he ran off after his dog who, I noticed, was pulling him quite fast for someone with a big tummy.

  As he left I realised that that was maybe the longest conversation, if you can call it that, that we’d ever had – and was it about how much we liked each other or what bands we liked or meeting up maybe?! No, it was about Gran’s Basil getting Sam’s Bonnie pregnant – how disgusting is that? YUCKARAMA, totes mankenstein, and so definitely not what I’d imagined our first long chat would be about.

  When I’ve dreamed about chatting to Sam and maybe, maybe, maybe ending up deciding to do something together, something sort of date-y-but-not-too-in-your-face-date-y, I certainly never ever once dreamed that our ENTIRE CONVERSATION would be about dogs doing … Eurgh, you know what!

  It’s just so embarrassing and, oh I don’t know, sort of bleurgh and way too intimate. Actually I’m not sure it would be all right to talk to anyone about that stuff. Well, not for me. I certainly don’t want to have a conversation with anyone about Basil and … that. And it’s a million times worse that the conversation was with Sam.

  Of course I love Basil. He is funny and he’s so brilliant about wearing all Gran’s crazy outfits. He never gets cross, not even when it’s a cape or a stupid floppy hat, but I do not want to think about Basil doing that, ever – whatever he’s wearing.

  Oh god, this probably means I’ll have to walk Basil somewhere completely different now and never see Sam again. I mean, I can’t. I can’t look him in the eyes now that we’ve had a conversation for HOURS about THAT. This is a disaster. Why did Basil have to do that and totally ruin my life?! Basil should have thought of the consequences. Yes, all right, I know dogs probably don’t think about consequences, otherwise they wouldn’t be dogs, they’d be … I dunno. Luke is always saying ‘actions have consequences’, whatever that means (apart from ‘Announcement – I am a Super Nerd’).

  Oh man, this is awful. And BTW I am NOT going to tell Gran either. For starters, she’ll want all the details – YUCK, I am not going through them EVER again – and then Gran might get all funny about the puppies and all that. She’s always saying dogs are part of the family. No. I am going to forget all of this just happened. I have to erase all that MANKENSTEIN stuff from my brain and the tragedy of how Basil’s yucky going-ons ruined my life.

  I’ve come upstairs to my bedroom because there is a really weird, stinky man in our kitchen. I don’t know what he’s doing here. He’s got a beard. And I do not mean a trendy kind of beard a hipster-with-tons-of-cool-tattoos-who-wears-a-miniature-hat has. I mean like an old man’s beard. Yo
u know, like he’s been growing it for years on purpose – in fact, for so long it’s got white hairs in it! Yuck.

  Luke whispered to me, ‘He looks like one of the wizards in the background from a Harry Potter film. The ones who don’t speak but just stand around so that the whole place looks really wizardy,’ which did make me laugh, because that is exactly the sort of beard it is – long, straggly and generally mankenstein.

  It is def not the kind of beard someone young and good-looking would have. He’s ancient too – like maybe even fifty years old. When I came in from school he was right there, sitting in our kitchen all caj, having a cup of tea with Gran like nothing could be more normal and happens-every-day-ish.

  As soon as I walked in he said, ‘Ah, you must be the famous Tabitha,’ and Gran laughed. What is all that about? Obvs I am The Famous Tabitha (I like that), but I don’t think he meant it in the way I mean it, like famous-at-school-for-all-the-wrong-reasons (although they’re the right reasons according to me and gang!). And then super annoyingly he didn’t tell me his name, and neither did Gran, which is a bit random too. I hate it when grown-ups know who you are, but don’t tell you who they are! I wonder who this guy is …

  Oh yeah, BTW I am going to have to do something really bad to Luke. I’ve got to think something up that will drive him completely and totally mad. He has not only used my, all right the, loo in the bathroom next to my room AGAIN when I specifically and totally banned him from using it because of his moronic inability to aim his wee correctly into the toilet, spraying it everywhere in the world except actually into it, but he’s also left me a Post-it note about the mirror over the sink! I cannot believe it! I am literally going to kill him.

  He put two notes (the big ones) side by side. It was practically an essay it was so long.

  ‘DEAR OLDER SISTER …’ What a twit. He knows my name. ‘… THIS MIRROR IS IN A DISGRACEFUL STATE AND REQUIRES IMMEDIATE CLEANSING WITH, MAY I SUGGEST, A HOT CLOTH AND A CLEANING PRODUCT DESIGNED TO BE ABLE TO CUT THROUGH BOTH GREASE AND GRIME. I RECOMMEND CIF, THOUGH YOU MAY, OF COURSE, USE ANOTHER PRODUCT WITH SIMILAR QUALITIES AS LONG AS IT DOES THE JOB.’

  I thought I was going to explode reading it. God, if he weren’t such a totes nerdball and had even one friend (apart from Mum, and no one in the world, not even Luke, can count their own mother as an actual friend), he wouldn’t have the time to write stupid things like this. It went on:

  ‘I FEEL THIS TASK FALLS TO YOU RATHER THAN ME SINCE YOUR RECENT DECISION TO APPLY MAKE-UP DAILY USING THIS MIRROR HAS RESULTED IN ITS EXTREME DIRTINESS. IN ANTICIPATION OF YOUR COOPERATION AND THANKING YOU FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION. YOURS FAITHFULLY, MASTER LUKE BAIRD.’

  That is exactly what it said word for word. I am not joking. Honestly and truthfully that annoying little squirty know-it-all gnat wrote all of that in his best handwriting and left it up for me. It is literally THE MOST ANNOYING THING ANYONE HAS EVER DONE IN THE HISTORY OF THE UNIVERSE. Straight away, I ripped the notes up into tiny little pieces. That felt great.

  And then I had to think about what I could do that would really, really annoy him as much as he’d annoyed me, and then I had a brainwave – the most brilliant, ingenious, utterly mank-of-mankenstein brainwave. Luke is literally going to pass out with bonkersosity. Got to go down to now; Gran’s calling up. I will deliver my killer blow to Luke during supper if I get the chance. Gotta make sure everyone’s there for maximum mankosity impact.

  So, you’ll never guess what – Dumbledore Chops (that’s what I’m going to call the guy with the beard because that is exactly what he looks like) stayed for supper, again acting like it was The Most Ordinary Thing in the World, and like he does it all the time!

  We never have anyone to supper, not even our mates from school. Well, obvs Luke doesn’t have any mates so that’s why he doesn’t have them to supper because they don’t exist, but I haven’t invited mine to stay to eat. Emz, A’isha and Grace have all been here together once, but we went straight to my room, where we stayed the whole time. Gran did come up with a plate of biscuits, knocked on the door, told me they were there then went away again – she is so perfect. Thank god Mum wasn’t around. She’d def have tried to come into my room and chat with them. Oh man, I would have died, especially as Emz and A’isha know about Mum’s blog. I feel sick just thinking about it. Anyway, no one’s stayed for supper yet. I’m not sure I can really cope with that prospect. Never mind the horror of Mum trying to ‘get down’ with my mates, probably using phrases like that and saying ‘chillax’ and ‘no sweat’ – a whole supper would be torture!

  I mean, can you imagine my cool, brilliant mates sitting at our table listening to Gran pretending Basil’s her son and speaking for him (she’d probably let him sit up at the actual table!), Luke talking about the activity of unseen planets, frogs’ lifespans or how some fish actually swim backwards, Mum swooning over his fascinating (not) subjects and then going on at me about not eating pudding and nagging me to read more?! Yeah, thinking about what my bonkers family might suddenly do or say in front of my mates, having them over is probably the worst idea ever, especially if I want to stay popular!

  So anyway we started supper before Mum was home – don’t know where she was – and when she came in Dumbledore Chops said, ‘Oh my goodness, Kat, how you’ve grown,’ like she was a little girl. Gran laughed and Mum looked a bit like she didn’t know what was going on.

  And then Gran said, ‘Kat, darling, you remember Frank, don’t you? We used to work together at the council.’

  Mum smiled and said, ‘Oh yes,’ but I don’t think she really did remember him.

  ‘Well, it must be twenty years ago now,’ Dumbledore Chops, aka Frank apparently, said to Mum as she joined us at the table. She just smiled and nodded.

  Over the meal Dumbledore Chops was talking a lot. Gran seemed to think every single thing he said was, like, the most amazing thing she’d ever heard and Mum laughed a few times too. And he was asking Luke lots of random questions like he knew in advance Luke would know the answers. It was like he was doing it on purpose so that Luke had a chance to show off. Huh, like he needs a chance!

  And then while they were chatting like new bezzies I saw the perfect way to get my revenge for the badly aimed wee. Dumbledore Chops said something to Luke about telescopes and I immediately knew this was my chance, so I jumped in with, ‘Why don’t you go up to your room and get yours down to show –’ I nearly actually said Dumbledore Chops (!) – ‘erm, Frank?’

  The old wizard looked at me and smiled. ‘Yes, I’d love to see it,’ so Luke raced upstairs and then we all heard him scream. Brilliant! Exactly as I planned.

  I knew he’d see it straight away! Result! Before anyone had a chance to run up and see why he was screaming Luke came thundering back down the stairs in a mad panic, exactly as I’d hoped he would, holding the plastic bottle of wee I’d left in his room and yelled at me: ‘You are so disgusting, so revolting. How could you do this? You are horrible and I hate you!’

  Mum gave me a filthy look and took the bottle off Luke and read out the Post-it note I’d left on it:

  ‘DEAR LUKE, PLEASE FIND INSIDE THIS BOTTLE ALL THE WEE YOU HAVE NOT BEEN ABLE TO DIRECT INTO THE INSIDE OF THE TOILET, AS YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO, I.E. LIKE A NORMAL PERSON. I HAVE SCOOPED IT UP AND PUT IT INSIDE THIS BOTTLE. I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT WANT IT BACK BECAUSE YOU NEVER GET IT INTO THE TOILET. YOU’RE WELCOME, TABITHA BAIRD (MISS).’

  Dumbledore Chops actually burst out laughing. ‘My older sisters were just the same with me when I was a kid,’ he said.

  Mum scowled at him, which he didn’t see, and then at me, but before she could say anything Luke shouted at me, ‘You’re going to pay for this, just you wait. I am going to do something much, much worse to you! This is the most disgusting thing anyone has ever done in the history of the universe!’

  I didn’t reply but instead gave him a sickly sweet smile. Then I leant forward and took the bottle off Mum, looked straight at my annoying little brother and said, ‘Ch
ill, it’s not like it’s that big a deal.’ And then I took a huge swig from the bottle, did a lot of licking my lips and then said all super caj, ‘It’s not that bad, actually. It’d just be better where it belongs, inside the actual loo!’ Then I wiped my mouth.

  Oh man, it was absolutely, completely and totally hilarious. Everyone howled and cried out, even Dumbledore Chops.

  ‘You’ve gone too far this time, Tabitha,’ Mum cried out, practically choking with shock. ‘That is absolutely disgusting. I cannot believe you’d go to these lengths just to get the better of your brother!’

  Luke looked like he was going to faint and Dumbledore Chops was staring right at me, his eyes wide open, like I was completely mad. Which, of course, if I really had scooped up all of my little brother’s urine and then drunk it, I would be, totes! Only Gran knew. She was giving me a look like she had an idea. I actually think she even had a little smile on her face.

  I waited a couple of seconds while everyone was groaning and moaning, letting them all think it was for real, and then said, ‘That was actually lemon squash but I think I’ve made my point.’

  Gran burst out laughing and Luke did smile but only after making a very long bleurgh noise. Typical. But Mum would not let it drop and starting going on about boundaries and limits and a load of other stuff that I could not care less about. I wasn’t even listening to her actually. I couldn’t see what any of that had to do with playing a joke on Luke to pay him back for all his millions of ‘wee crimes’.

  Honestly, Mum loves Luke so much she probably even thinks his wee is fantastic! Anyway, then get this, Dumbledore Chops pipes up, ‘I think perhaps you might want to give your mother a break, eh?’ and gives me the sort of ‘Hey, we’re all mates here but that’s enough’ look, the kind of super-annoying look teachers, who go in for all that ‘let’s talk about it’ kind of telling-off, give kids sometimes. I could not believe it. A complete stranger – well, to me anyway – comes into my house and tells me off!? That is soooo extra. I was so cross I nearly swore at him but I knew Gran would get upset, so I just gave him a really long stare, shrugged my shoulders slowly and replied, ‘Whatevs.’