This is going to be the end of me. This is definitely going to be the reason I end up having to leave HAC. I thought it was maybe going to be Dark Aly, like if she got more popular than me and stuff, but this is way, way worse. Worse even than GB and the custody thing. What if anyone finds out that was the school I was at?! They’ll all definitely think that’s how I really talk and that I’m rich and stupid like all those girls there. Oh god, this is, like, the worst thing that has ever happened to me.
I’ve googled the show and it’s actually called Educating the Rich: Through Thick and Thin, which I think is one of those on-purpose jokes, because it’s true, most of the girls there, well, when I was there, are a bit thick and were all super skinny, which is another reason I never really fitted in because I’m so not super skinny and never have been.
I don’t know the three main girls featured in the show. Apparently they’re in Year Eleven – Venora, Gaia (is that really a real name?) and Plethora – so there’s no way they’ll be talking about me and how I had to leave because we were too poor to stay and because my dad was an alcoholic and all that horrible stuff. I did know a Plethora when I was there, and she was okay, even though she was called Plethora, but it’s not this one, thank god!
Actually it’s such a ridiculous name it’s hard to imagine finding a school where two girls are called Plethora, isn’t it? You’d never find a Plethora at HAC! But still, what if some of the girls I was there with mention me in a ‘We used to know this girl Tabitha who was so poor she had to leave’ kind of a way? Oh god, it’s going to be the end of everything!
I love it at HAC. No one here knows I used to be posh. And it’s not as if I was ever even that posh, not posh like they were! I never had a pony, we never had a nanny or a house with a long crunchy pebbly drive! But if I am mentioned, anyone who sees it is obviously going to think that’s what I am really underneath it all – not the cheeky, funny, fearless Tab Baird I am now. Oh man, what on earth am I going to do?!
This is one for Grace. Grace will know what to do. Emz and A’isha will probably just say ‘don’t worry’ or ‘chill’ or ‘how’s anyone going to find out you were there?’ Those three know I was obvs, because I told them ages ago before I ever knew someone was going to make a stupid documentary about the place and ruin my new life forever!!! But I’m pretty sure they won’t take the mick and they def won’t tell anyone else I was there … I don’t think. They wouldn’t, would they? Oh god, how can I know for def they won’t?! Oh god, it’s all going wrong. I just can’t risk telling anyone, not even Grace….
The new road where I’ve been taking Basil on his walks to avoid Sam was blocked off today, as there’d been an accident or something, so I ended up doing my old route, and even though he didn’t see me cos he was too far away, I saw Sam and Bonnie, who is now absolutely huge. Those puppies must be coming any day now. Anyway, when I got home I made a very bad decision and told Gran about them. And Gran’s reaction was NOT GOOD.
I caught Luke’s eye when it all kicked off and although we were both trying really hard not to laugh I could tell he was as surprised as I was at how Gran reacted. OMG, I have never seen Gran go off on one like this. She is, in her own words, ‘hopping mad’. Hilarious. I’m not saying ‘hilarious’ that Gran’s upset, like upset-upset, obvs, but she did get crazy-angry about it all. Even Mum looked shocked, like she’d never seen Gran that het up.
Basics, what happened is that I, in a super-caj-not-realising-it-was-going-to-start-World-War-III way, let it slip at supper to everyone, including Dumbledore Chops, who was here AGAIN BTW, that Basil was going to be a dad soon and that the mum’s owner was going to sell the puppies.
Gran literally dropped her fork onto her plate, making a really loud clatter and shouted with her mouth full, ‘What?’ A bit of spaghetti actually flew out of her mouth. Luke and I nearly choked to death laughing.
‘Keep your hair on, Mum,’ Mum said.
Dumbledore Chops, because he’s always such a know-it-all, gave Gran a really long concerned look and said, ‘Wasn’t Basil neutered?’
‘Of course he’s not neutered, you idiot! If he’d been neutered he wouldn’t be having any puppies, would he?’
Oh god, it was so brilliant. Luke and I both grinned at each other. Result. No one in our house had so far ever treated Dumbledore Chops like he was anything other than a Perfect Saint.
‘Mum, Frank’s only trying to help,’ Mum chipped in, sticking up for him, even though he was Gran’s friend first, which made Luke and me both look at each other and make identical something-stinks-here faces. I did not like this and obviously neither did Luke. It looks a lot like Mum might have ‘special feelings’ for Frank. Bleurgh, yuck and totes mankenstein.
‘How far gone is the bitch?’ Gran then asked, looking at me.
She sounded quite fierce. It was a bit scary because, like I said, Gran is never like this. All the same Luke and I both burst out laughing again. We just couldn’t help ourselves. I’m sorry but Gran saying that word is super funny and I couldn’t help cracking up. Obvs I know ‘bitch’ is what a girl dog is actually called, but you’ve got to admit hearing your own granny say that word out loud is pretty extra and super hilarious.
‘I dunno,’ I eventually managed to say. ‘Sam told me a few weeks ago, so …’
‘I am not having this!’ Gran announced, picking up her fork again and practically stabbing her spaghetti to death. ‘No grandchild of mine is going to be sold to a complete stranger, that is for sure. I am going to get custody of those puppies come hell or high water!’
Now it was Mum’s turn to have a fit. ‘Mum! They are not your grandchildren. They are dogs, not humans – DOGS! And anyway we can’t have any more dogs here! It’s bad enough with just –’
Luke and I immediately looked at each other, eyes wide open with fear. We both knew Mum was about to say Basil and if she did Gran would go totally berserk. But, thank god, just as she was about to say it Gran silenced Mum with an evil stare.
‘Basil is your brother and I will no more tolerate you complaining about him than I would Tabitha complaining about Luke!’
Oh man, Gran knows it drives Mum completely bonkers when she pretends Basil is her brother, exactly as if he were human. Actually, Gran isn’t pretending. She really does believe he is, but it is a bit much for her to pretend to her only real child that he’s the same as her!
‘For the last time, Mum, Basil is not my brother!! He is a dog who, by the way, cannot speak, no matter how much you pretend he can by speaking for him!’ Mum was practically screaming by this time.
Luke and I could not stop laughing. We were getting hysterical and practically collapsing. It was absolutely hilarious. And even better, Dumbledore Chops looked a bit awks, like he didn’t know what to do with himself.
I think Gran knew she’d gone a bit far because after a pause she looked at Mum and said very calmly and a bit sadly, ‘How would you like it if someone tried to give away your children without you having a say in it?’
But Mum lost it completely then and shouted back, ‘They are not Basil’s children – they are puppies. Dogs not humans, dogs not humans, DOGS NOT HUMANS!’
No one said anything after that outburst, including Gran. And then she said very quietly and like she really, really meant it, ‘Well, that’s not how I see it.’ And then, then, and this is the worst bit, Gran looked at me and asked, like it was the most normal thing in the world to be asking, ‘Tabitha, next time you see the bitch’s owner can you get their phone number for me, please? I am going to sort this out.’
Get Sam’s phone number? Get Sam’s phone number?!
Do you understand exactly what Gran is asking me to do?! Gran is asking me to ask the boy I like for his phone number! She is asking me, like it’s the most super-easy thing in the world and a matter-of-fact chore, to ask a boy I like if I can have his number!!!!! Oh god. I wish I’d never said anything about the puppies! I cannot believe I’ve got myself into this mess. This is going to b
e the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever had to do in my whole entire life! I am going to die of shame. How is it going to go? What, like this, maybe?
‘Oh, hi, Sam. No biggie, but can I have your phone number please?’
Oh yeah, that’s going to be soooo natural and normal. Just a totes tra-la-la, la-di-da everyday question. You know, just like that.
AS IF.
However I say it and whatever I explain about the puppies and about Gran wanting them and all of that, which is the actual truth, he is still DEFINITELY going to think I’ve made it all up so that I can get his number. Of course he will. He’s not going to believe that my gran actually thinks they are her grandchildren and that they have to live with her – I mean, who would?!
The trouble is, once I’ve got his phone number (I have to do it. I can’t tell Gran I can’t or won’t. She’ll be so upset if she doesn’t at least try to get these blooming puppies!) I won’t ever be able to call him or find out if he even likes me back, will I? I’d rather cut my tongue out than call him once I’ve asked for his number. It’s so obvious and lame because he’ll be expecting me to call, see? So obvs that I can’t. Geddit? I’m just going to have to let Gran call his mum and let them sort it out and never ever call Sam for real myself. It’s the only way I’ll get over the shame of having to ask for his number.
I wish I’d never opened my big fat mouth. Aaaargh. Why did I say anything?! If only that road hadn’t been closed then I’d never have seen Bonnie and never thought about her stupid puppies. It’s all that closed road’s fault!
I am dreading doing this. I feel sick. It is so totes THE most embarrassing thing I have ever had to do – Gran might as well have asked me to ask Sam to marry me!
Thank god at least I don’t have to face this COMPLETE NIGHTMARE for a few days cos it’s the trip to France tomorrow. So, major phew, I’m off the hook for a couple of days, but still, that TORTURE is going to have to happen before too long. Kill me now.
Right, oh man, there is SO much to say. I’m still feeling all super jumbled up – sort of angry, sort of buzzy, sort of upset, sort of wish-I-hadn’t-done-it, sort of proud, sort of I-don’t-care but also, at the same time, sort of care-so-much-I-can’t-bear-it … but mainly just got an extra-super-jumbly feeling inside my tummy.
We had to be at school really early to get the coach to take us to France – today was the day of THAT trip. Emz, A’isha, Grace and me had all agreed in advance that we were all definitely going to go through with the wearing-the-hijab-protest thing – the ‘Statement Headscarf’ Grace had called it. We’d all decided we had to wear identical ones too, to make it look extra on-purpose-statement-y and that we were all in it together. Like it was definitely not a coincidence thing and that we all just happened to be wearing hijabs.
So, because it was all my idea in the first place, I’d said I’d make all the headscarves. Okay, actually, to be honest, that was Gran’s idea. She’d suggested they all look the same and had offered to make them for us. For one awful butt-clenching moment I’d thought Gran meant she’d knit them! Can you imagine the cringe-factor of turning up with knitted headscarves? I’d rather have given up on the whole idea than have had to wear those! Luckily Gran hadn’t meant that. Major phew. She’d got some old black material lying about and she’d run up a bunch of scarves on her sewing machine. Gran, as well as knitting, is brilliant at sewing practically anything, so, thank god, the scarves were just regular and normal triangles. Obvs, as we all know, Gran’s knitted creations can be a bit … erm … random, as well as, let’s face it, earth-shatteringly-life-endingly embarrassing but they’re still pretty well done, even if they are a bit extra!
Even though we only needed four, one each, Gran actually gave me six. ‘Just in case,’ she said, handing them to me as I was leaving. Obvs I thanked her and everything but I didn’t know what we might need an extra hijab ‘just in case’ for! It’s not like they’re knickers or socks or even sandwiches! Why would anyone in the world ever need a just-in-case hijab?
It was still so early by the time I got to school that it wasn’t even completely light. I was really, really looking forward to the trip – seeing France and the whole journey, everything – but also really excited about doing our big thing. I suppose I was a bit more excited because it had been my idea too, you know. We were all going to do a Big Thing that everyone in our year was going to witness and it had all been my brainwave. Result.
My gang were all already there, crowded around the coach. As soon as I joined them I got out the bunch of headscarves in my bag. Everyone thanked me and said how brilliant Gran was.
‘We need to thank our lucky stars your gran didn’t knit them!’ A’isha joked. So she’d obviously been worried that Gran might do that too.
We all laughed, including me, but although I laughed I did still feel a bit like she shouldn’t have made a joke about my gran’s knitting, cos, you know, only I can do that. Weird, isn’t it, how you can make jokes all day long about your own mum, gran, brother, whoever, if they’re your family, but when other people do it, it makes you cross? I wouldn’t ever tell anyone else this but, for me, that even includes Luke, would you believe?! Random or what?
As we were getting on the coach, Grace and Emz, just like we’d planned, grabbed the first two rows of seats across the aisle from each other and then quickly bagsied the seats next to them. We hadn’t actually planned that but it was just as well because there was no way I was sitting next to anyone else. Also, we needed to be all together and right at the front of the bus for when we did our ‘mass hijab sit-in’. (I know it’s not really a sit-in obvs, apart from the fact that we would be sitting down. Hah, hah!)
A’isha beckoned me to sit next to her. I was super pleased about that because I’d done all of this really for her. To make her realise that I hadn’t ever thought she was different to the rest of us, or that anyone who wore something was any different to anyone else inside. I knew she still had the hump with me a bit, even though I’d organised the hijabs.
I so badly wanted this whole thing to work out so we could get completely back to normal. A’isha wasn’t being like majorly horrible or anything. You couldn’t put your finger on any one thing, but I just knew she wasn’t yet totally okay with me. I really hated it being a bit different with her. It made everything feel a bit weird as well. I kept my fingers crossed that once we’d done our thing, everything could go back to normal. Oh man, but I could never, in a gazillion years, have guessed what was actually going to happen …
So the coach arrived at the Eurotunnel thing and went in. That was all a bit scary. Secretly I did not like the idea of going under the sea in a coach but I didn’t tell anyone. I wasn’t going to go all boo-hoo-crybaby-ish, especially not with what was coming, or so I thought!
Anyway, we got to France. Yay! Except not yay. All four of us looked at each other, nodded and then put on the headscarves. (A’isha put the one I gave her over the one she usually wears so that all of ours exactly matched.)
Miss (it was actually Eva, Ms Cantor), looked at us, made a face and then asked what we were doing. She wasn’t super cross, she never is, but she was obviously a bit puzzled.
Emz and A’isha started giggling, while Grace just crossed her arms, and all three of my gang immediately looked at me, like it was my job to explain!
I hadn’t planned on doing anything on my own AND I hadn’t thought we’d have to do any explaining until some French person asked us to take them off. But because it was completely obvious that none of the others were going to say anything I ended up having to explain what we were doing and why.
‘I really respect this, Tabitha, and I think it’s an important gesture but I’m afraid I can’t jeopardise the whole trip for everyone to make a political point, valid as it might be,’ Miss said, ‘so can you please all take off the scarves so that we can get on with the trip?’
Now, I know I sort of actually like Miss and everything, but you can’t decide to do something as major as this
and then, as soon as a teacher says you can’t, just back down, can you? But apparently YOU CAN if you’re Emz, A’isha and Grace! As soon as Miss had finished speaking, and I mean like the actual second, all three of them sort of mumbled, ‘All right, okay. Sorry, Miss,’ and pulled their scarves off then and there, just like that. I could not believe it. I could not believe I’d gone to all that trouble and effort, and worrying about how to make it right with A’isha, and they’d all, including her, given in without a single moment of resistance.
It was like it had never been that big a deal to any of them at all. It was like they’d all forgotten how upset A’isha had got when she was first told she couldn’t wear it! I was really, really cross. And I felt a bit betrayed. I know they weren’t giving in on purpose to make me feel bad, but still – we had all decided to do it together.
So, without even knowing that was what I was going to do, I just looked at Miss and said, ‘No, I’m sorry, I’m not taking it off. I am making a point!’
The other three all stared at me like I was mad but I wouldn’t look back. I wasn’t going to budge. Just because they’d all chickened out it didn’t mean I was going to. In fact, weirdly, them all chickening out had made me even more determined to go through with it.
Miss gave me a long look without saying anything and eventually said, ‘Suit yourself, Tabitha. We’ll have to see what happens at customs.’
‘Tab, come on. Don’t be silly. Take it off,’ Emz hissed at me.
Grace joined in. ‘Yes, we’ve made our point. Take it off.’
A’isha didn’t say anything. She didn’t even look at me. I think she might have been feeling a bit bad cos she was the one who’d made all the fuss in the first place and now she’d taken her hijab off without saying boo! Anyway, I was not going to budge on this. A’isha was the one who’d made me feel upset by making out that I had ‘noticed’ who was wearing what and I was going to prove that this was not true – nothing was going to stop me.
The Endless Trials of Tabitha Baird Page 6
