Pick 'n' Mix

by Jean Ure

  “The Pick ’n’ Mix.” I said. “She could have gone back to the Pick ’n’ Mix!”

  I set off at a mad gallop. Mel galloped with me. I was so sure Melia would be there; there just didn’t seem any other place she would go. But while everybody remembered her, it seemed that nobody had seen her. Not since we’d been there half an hour ago, buying Sticky Fingaz.

  “I just don’t know where she could be!” I wailed.

  “Could she have gone home?” said Mel.

  “No!” I shook my head. “She wouldn’t know how to get there.”

  “So maybe she’s just, like… wandering around? Looking at things? I mean… she wouldn’t go with anyone, would she?”

  That was my big fear. I knew she’d been warned not to talk to strangers, cos she’d told me so herself – “Mustn’t talk to strangers!” But suppose someone offered to buy her some sweets? She might be tempted to go with them. I began to feel a bit sick and shaky.

  “Think,” urged Mel. “Where else does she know? Apart from the sweet shop?”

  “Um… mm… Boots!” It suddenly came to me. “She knows Boots!”

  I would have given anything to find Melia breaking open lipsticks and smearing them over herself; but we went round the whole store and there wasn’t a sign of her. I was beginning to panic. Mel turned on me, quite fiercely.

  “Where else? There’s got to be somewhere else! She must know other places.”

  I forced myself to calm down. I thought back to that first Saturday, when she’d embarrassed us in the HMV shop, shouting out the names of bands at the top of her voice.

  “HMV,” I said.

  We raced there at breakneck speed. I prayed that I would hear Melia’s loud, tuneless voice; but again, there was no sign of her.

  “O-kay.” Mel said it very slowly and carefully. “What about… ” She gazed round. “The Ladies! What about the Ladies?”

  “Yessss!”

  She knew the Ladies, all right. That was where she would be!

  But she wasn’t. And by now even Mel was starting to wonder if we should go to the police.

  “But how do we find them?” I whimpered. “I don’t know where the police station is!”

  “You have to ring 999,” said Mel. “Or maybe we could go into Turton’s and get them to do a thing on their loudspeaker system like when they’ve found a child? Would the mother of whoever it is please—”

  “Turton’s!” I practically screamed it. “She could be in Turton’s!”

  And oh, she was! We arrived, puffing and blowing, just as she was ambling out into the precinct.

  “MELIA!” I charged up to her. She beamed at me, like totally unconcerned. “Where have you been?”

  “Been in the shop.”

  “Why? What for?”

  Her eyes slid away. “Just wanted to.”

  “I’ve been worried sick,” I said. “You know you’re not supposed to go wandering off like that!”

  She chewed at her bottom lip, but she didn’t seem very repentant. More like she was trying to stifle a giggle.

  “We’ve been looking all over for you,” said Mel. “We were going to call the p’lice!”

  That sobered her. She clutched at the front of her anorak and looked at me, big-eyed.

  “I still might,” I said. “Get them to lock you up! Honestly.” I hooked my arm very firmly through hers, gluing her to my side. “You gave me the most horrible fright I’ve ever had! What d’you think your mum’d say if she came out of hospital and I had to tell her I’d gone and lost you?”

  She chewed again at her lip, but she wasn’t giggling any more. She muttered, “Sorry, Frankie.”

  “I should think you jolly well ought to be! I’m going to take you home, now. I’ve had enough of this place.”

  “I’ll be off, then,” said Mel. “Glad it all ended happily.”

  I called after her, “Thanks for staying with me!”

  She flapped a hand. “Don’t mention it.”

  I genuinely did feel grateful to her; it is horrid being on your own in that sort of situation. I’d been really scared for a few minutes. Melia wanted to know if Mel was my friend. I told her she was just a girl in my class.

  “Not like Jem ’n’ Skye?”

  I said no, not like Jem and Skye. Jem and Skye had deserted me.

  “Where is Jem?” said Melia.

  “Dunno,” I said. “At home, I s’ppose.”

  “Why didn’t she come shopping with us?”

  “Guess she didn’t want to.”

  “Why not?”

  “I dunno. Probably had other things to do.”

  “Did Skye have other things to do?”

  “Probably.”

  “What sort of th—”

  “I don’t know! I don’t know what they’re doing. And why are you clutching at your coat like that? You haven’t gone and busted another zip, have you?”

  She said she hadn’t, but she still went on clutching. I told her not to. “It looks really stupid!”

  “Doofus!” cried Melia; and she giggled, and clutched even tighter. I gave up at that. I just wanted to get her safely indoors.

  We arrived home to find that Mum was still in the front room, seeing to one of her ladies; Tom, presumably, was still in his room, Angel and Dad were still out. We went through to the kitchen, where Rags was asleep in his basket. As soon as he saw us he came bounding over, full of his usual joy. Melia, still clutching at herself, screamed, “Down, Rags, careful, you’ll break it!”

  “Break what?” I said.

  Beaming, she unzipped her anorak. “Got a present for you.”

  Omigod! It was Mum’s mug…

  Chapter Ten

  “Melia, where did you get that from?” I said.

  She held it out. “It’s for you… for your mum.”

  “But where did you get it?”

  Her eyes slid away. “Bought it with my pocket money!”

  But I knew that she hadn’t. For one thing, she’d already spent half her pocket money on sweets. For another, the mug wasn’t in a box. It wasn’t even in a bag.

  “It’s for you,” she said.

  I swallowed. “What happened to the box?”

  “Wasn’t in a box.”

  “What about the bag?”

  “Threw it away.”

  I said, “Why? What d’you do that for?”

  “Didn’t want it.” She pushed the mug at me. “For your mum.”

  I didn’t want it. It was stolen property!

  “Same like the one you broke,” said Melia.

  I opened my mouth, automatically, to say “I didn’t break it!” But at that moment my mobile started up. I snatched at it, gratefully. It was Jem, calling to ask how I was. Like I’d been off sick, or something. Guilt, I thought. But I was pleased, all the same.

  “Hang on,” I said. “I’ll just move to another room.”

  One of the problems of sharing with Melia, it was really difficult to be private. The only place in the house where you could be sure she wouldn’t follow was the toilet. She’d probably have crammed in there if I’d let her. Even as it was, she trailed along the landing with me.

  “Melia, d’you mind?” I said.

  Jem giggled. “What’s going on?”

  I said, “Nothing. It’s just Melia.”

  “You sound, like, sort of frazzled.”

  “We’ve been into town,” I said.

  “Not round the shops? Not with Melia?”

  “She kept on at me. It just seemed easier, in the end, to give in.”

  “Poor you,” said Jem. “Was it awful?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think you’re a very good person,” said Jem.

  Huh!

  “Someone has to look after her,” I said. “I promised Mum, and once you’ve promised you have to keep your word.”

  “So what happened?”

  I banged down the toilet seat and sat on it. “She disappeared.”

 
“How?”

  “I don’t know, she just did. I couldn’t find her anywhere, I went into every shop we’ve ever been in, it was like a nightmare. I had these visions she’d gone off with someone. If Mel hadn’t been with me, I don’t know what I’d have done. It was really scary! We were going to dial 999, then Mel said maybe we could get Turton’s to do one of their loudspeaker thingies? So we rushed off to Turton’s and that’s when we found her, and you’ll never guess what?”

  “What?”

  “She’s gone and stolen a mug!”

  Jem said, “Stolen a mug?”

  “Yes! Like the one she broke.”

  “Melia?” said Jem. “Stole a mug?”

  How many times did you have to tell her something?

  “You mean, she got away with it? Nobody caught her? Wow!”

  Crossly I said, “It puts me in a very difficult situation.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t give Mum a stolen mug!”

  “Don’t see why not,” said Jem. “Who’s to know?”

  “I’d know!”

  “Yes, but you didn’t steal it. Is that what she went off to do? Get a mug? It’s quite sweet, when you stop to think about it.”

  “Doesn’t seem very sweet to me,” I said. “I was going out of my mind! If Mel hadn’t been there—”

  “Mel Diaz?”

  Did we know any other Mels?

  “What were you doing with her?”

  “We met up,” I said. “You and Mel?”

  I do so hate it when you have to keep repeating yourself.

  “Moments like that,” I said, “you’re just so grateful someone’s there for you.”

  There was a bit of a pause.

  “I s’ppose you would be,” said Jem.

  We didn’t speak much after that cos Melia started scraping at the door, wanting to know if I was still in there. She just hated it when she was shut out.

  “Guess I’d better go,” I said.

  Jem said, “Yes, go and give your mum her mug.”

  I thought about it; I was tempted. I’m not a goody goody! I am always being told off for talking when I shouldn’t, or passing notes in class, and once or twice I’ve even cheated on my homework. Well, I’ve copied from Skye, which I suppose is a form of cheating. But I just didn’t feel I could give Mum a present that was stolen goods. I mean, imagine if the police came round. Mum could be put in prison!

  On the other hand, if I told her about it I would have to confess to not having kept a proper eye on Melia. I knew I’d been irresponsible, gossiping away with Mel, eagerly listening to her dish the dirt on Daisy Hooper. I didn’t want Mum thinking I’d let her down.

  But then, in the end, my conscience got the better of me. Or maybe I was just scared, cos I mean, you never know. Someone might have been watching. They might even have followed us. They could be waiting, even now, to see whether we would go back to Turton’s and own up.

  I waited till I could get Mum on her own, then let it all come tumbling out.

  “I know I should have watched her more carefully, but honestly, Mum, I only took my eye off her for about two seconds! She was just sitting there, eating her sweets. Next thing I knew, she’d gone.”

  “Well, don’t beat yourself up about it,” said Mum. “All’s well that ends well. She didn’t come to any harm.”

  “No, but then when we got back home she gave me this.” I held out the mug. “Mum, I think she stole it!”

  Unlike Angel, who lives in a perpetual rage from the minute she gets up to the minute she goes to bed, Mum almost never loses her cool. Dad has been known to, just occasionally, like when he called the Council and shouted “Doofus!” down the telephone. I had shouted doofus at Melia, so that made me just as bad. Mum would never, ever do anything like that. Even now, when I was offering her stolen property, she didn’t blink.

  “Are you sure about this?” she said. “You’re telling me she just picked it up and walked out with it?”

  “She must have done! There isn’t any box – there isn’t any bag. And she’d already spent most of her pocket money.”

  “What would make her steal a mug?” wondered Mum.

  “Cos it was her that broke your one. She won’t admit it, she pretends it was me, but she knows, really, that it was her. Like it was her,” I said bitterly, “that got the sock stuck in the vacuum cleaner.”

  “And you took the blame!”

  “Only cos she gets frightened. Anyway,” I said, “I’m used to it. I’m always getting the blame.”

  “It was Melia who upset Tom’s science project, wasn’t it?” said Mum. “And you took the blame for that too.” She suddenly hugged me. “Poor old you! It’s been a tough time, hasn’t it? But you’ve done so well! I’m really proud of you. Your dad never thought you’d stay the course. Bitten off more than you can chew, that’s what he thought. But you’ve proved him wrong! We could never have taken Melia if it hadn’t been for you.”

  I could feel my cheeks glowing, bright pink. I am not used to being praised!

  “Don’t worry,” said Mum. “Only another few days, then we’ll be back to normal. Do you reckon you can last that long?”

  I assured her that I could. I am not someone that gives up.

  “I’m afraid Melia is even more demanding than I thought,” said Mum.

  I suddenly realised something. “Mum, you’re calling her Melia!” I said.

  “Yes.” Mum laughed. “I obviously caught it from you! Now, I wonder what we do about this mug? I could either put it in the cupboard and forget how we came by it, or I could take it back to Turton’s first thing Monday morning and pay for it. Which do you think?”

  “Couldn’t we just give it back to them?” I said. “Why do we have to pay?”

  “I suppose we could just give it back – but it was my favourite mug! I’d really like to keep it.”

  “But I wanted to buy it for you,” I said. “I don’t want you to have to buy it for yourself.” And then I remembered: “I could give you £5 towards it!”

  “Oh, Frankie, I can’t take your money,” said Mum.

  “No,” I said, “I want you to. Anyway, it was Dad’s money, really. He gave it to me last week, for letting Melia come shopping with us. He bribed me. Only then Melia’s trousers went and fell down and we had to come home, so I’ve still got the money. Please, Mum, say you’ll take it!”

  “Well, if it’s going to make you happy,” said Mum.

  She told me that she reckoned I’d done such a good job looking after Melia that I deserved to be happy. I glowed all the rest of the day!

  I went on glowing right through till Monday morning, when me and Melia set off for school and I started brooding all over again about Jem and Skye deserting me. Melia wanted to know if they were going to be there, and I had to say no. So then she wanted to know why not, and I said they just weren’t, trying very hard not to snap cos after all it wasn’t her fault. But oh, dear, she would persist!

  “Why not, Frankie?” She tugged at my sleeve. “Why won’t they be there?”

  I said, “Because they won’t.”

  “Why won’t they?”

  “Because—” I stopped.

  “JEM!” shouted Melia. “SKYE!” They were waiting for us, on the corner. Melia went joyously galloping up. She threw her arms round Jem’s neck.

  “Frankie said you wouldn’t be here!”

  “Frankie was wrong,” said Skye.

  “Frankie was wrong!” Melia pointed an accusing finger at me. “She was wrong, she was wrong!”

  We all walked down together to Melia’s school. Melia hopped and skipped, and Skye never said a word. She didn’t even purse her lips or make impatient tutting noises.

  “See you later!” called Jem, as we dropped Melia off.

  Melia gave one of her big banana beams and waved back. “See you later, albogator!”

  “Albogator!” Jem giggled. “She’s funny.”

  “Thought she embarrassed you,” I sai
d.

  “Well, she does,” agreed Skye, “but we talked about it, and we decided it wasn’t fair, leaving you to cope on your own.”

  “Cos we are supposed to be your friends,” said Jem.

  “We are her friends.”

  “We are! We’re your friends. And real true friends,” said Jem, “are always there for each other.”

  “Always.”

  “Through thick and thin.”

  “We’re just very sorry,” said Skye, “that we weren’t there on Saturday.” She nudged at Jem. “Aren’t we?”

  Jem nodded. “We are! We’re really, really sorry.”

  “Do you forgive us?” said Skye.

  “Please, Frankie! Say you forgive us.”

  I mumbled that of course I did. “You don’t have to grovel,” I said.

  “I do, I do!” Jem fell dramatically to her knees. “Look at me! Look at me grovelling!”

  “I’d rather not,” said Skye.

  “Thing is…” Jem sprang back up again. “We didn’t want you feeling that you had to start going round with someone like Daisy Hooper.”

  “God,” I said, “I wouldn’t go round with Daisy Hooper if she was the last person left on Earth! Not,” I added, “that she is a person, strictly speaking. More like some kind of evil blob.”

  “Well, but you seemed to be getting all matey with Mel.”

  “Mel’s all right,” I said. “She doesn’t hang with Daisy any more.”

  “First I heard of it,” said Skye.

  “No, she told me, she’s gone right off her. She reckons she’s mean.”

  “Tell us something we don’t know!”

  “Remember that girl at Juniors? Elsa Walker?”

  “She ran away.”

  “Yes,” I said, “and I know why.”

  “Why?” Jem danced in front of me. “Tell, tell!”

  “According to Mel—”

  “Wait!” Skye clapped her hands over her ears. “This is gossiping.”

  “Only about Daisy,” said Jem. “If you don’t want to hear, just walk on.”

  But of course Skye couldn’t resist. She tries hard to be honourable and do what she knows is right, but Daisy has been our sworn enemy for as long as we can remember. It doesn’t count as gossiping, I don’t think. Not when you’re talking about your sworn enemy.