Girl, 15: Flirting for England

by Sue Limb

  She approached her mum in the kitchen while she was loading the dishwasher. Jess knew this was not a good moment. First she had to ingratiate herself by doing chores. Jess put the salt and pepper away in the cupboard. She wiped down the work surfaces. She washed the baking tray by hand, and then even dried the thing and put it away, instead of just ‘leaving it to drain’ – her usual cop-out. OK, she’d been saintly. Now she just had to let rip.

  ‘Mum!’ she burst out recklessly. ‘You have to change your mind. This camping trip is going to be the best time. Plus it gets Edouard out of your hair for a whole weekend. Me, too, of course. I promise I’ll look after him. If it rains for even a split second, we can go into Jodie’s auntie’s house.’

  Mum stood up and, as she did so, catastrophically banged her head on the cupboard door which Jess had left open. She then staggered round the kitchen, rubbing it and swearing so horribly that if she’d been a football player, she’d have been shown the red card and told to leave the field. Jess tried to fuss over her and console her and massage her head, but this kind concern only seemed to inflame Mum more. Jess did the only thing possible. She ran away.

  Granny was in the sitting room, watching the TV news. Jess dived down beside her on the sofa and snuggled up close.

  ‘A headless corpse has been found in the Thames,’ said Granny gleefully. ‘And strangely, it was wearing fancy dress.’ She was such a homicide addict.

  ‘What kind of fancy dress?’ asked Jess, desperate for distraction.

  ‘It was a man wearing a 1940s cocktail frock,’ said Granny.

  Mum stuck her head round the sitting-room door and announced that she was going up to her study to do some paperwork. She ordered Jess to do her homework or there would be big trouble.

  ‘I promise I’ll start in five minutes!’ said Jess, and snuggled up closer to Granny. The news had moved on to less exciting topics – something to do with tax.

  ‘So what’s the matter, dear?’ whispered Granny, once Mum had gone. Swiftly Jess outlined the fabulous camping plan, and Mum’s hostile reaction to it.

  ‘I can understand you all wanting to be together in a big field,’ said Granny. ‘It sounds lovely. Why don’t you ring your father and see if he can put in a good word for you?’

  ‘Granny, you’re a genius!’ said Jess, kissing the old dear vigorously on the cheek. ‘But first – how are things with you? Are you still under house arrest?’

  ‘Something marvellous happened today, dear,’ said Granny, leaning in close. ‘While I was mending Edouard’s trousers.’

  ‘What? What?’ gasped Jess.

  ‘I heard Grandpa speak to me,’ Granny hissed. ‘I heard his voice out loud, right in the room, as if he was sitting in that chair.’

  Goosebumps zipped up and down Jess’s back. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He said, “You don’t need that Gina, sweetheart. You can talk to me any time you want.”’ As a message from the Beyond, this was both reassuring and economical.

  ‘Don’t tell your mum, though,’ Granny went on, ‘because she’ll think I’m losing my marbles. I’m just going to say that I’ve seen sense, and I promise not to have any more readings with Gina. And you must back me up, dear.’

  ‘Of course, Granny! And you back me up about the camping.’

  Granny sighed and shook her head. ‘I don’t think she’ll take any notice of what I say, dear,’ she said. ‘I’ll do my best, though.’

  ‘OK – I’m going to phone Dad right now,’ said Jess. She ran to the kitchen and picked up the phone. Thank goodness Mum was not talking to anybody from her study upstairs. Jess had to use the landline, but it wasn’t always completely private. She’d promised never to phone her dad from her mobile except in emergencies. Although this was an emergency, in a way. She dialled. He answered. Jess let him have the whole drama, down to the last tentpeg.

  ‘So you’ve got to persuade Mum to say yes!’ pleaded Jess. ‘Everybody else is going and it’ll be dire if Edouard and I are stuck here together on our own all weekend. He just, like, totally can’t speak English and I can’t speak French. He’s only happy when he’s got his French friends around.’

  ‘I see the problem,’ said Dad. ‘But does it have to be camping?’

  ‘Yes, it does have to be camping!’ said Jess. ‘It’ll be wonderful! Granny thinks it’ll be lovely!’

  ‘What if it rains?’

  ‘The weather forecast says there’s going to be a mini-heatwave! Flora’s dad says so and he’s never wrong.’

  ‘What are the sleeping arrangements? How many tents are there?’

  ‘Honestly, Dad! You’re supposed to be my groovy, artistic, easy-going parent, who cheerfully says yes to all my delightful plans!’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Dad. ‘But I am concerned … You know, I don’t want to tread on Mum’s toes … and I share her worries about your safety.’

  ‘Safety!’ exploded Jess. ‘We’ll practically be in Jodie’s auntie’s garden! What could happen?’

  ‘Don’t ask me to speculate!’ said Dad, sounding nervous. ‘My blood runs cold at the thousands of terrible things that could happen.’

  ‘You wimp!’ said Jess. ‘I was going to ask you to plead with Mum on my behalf, but don’t bother.’ She was really angry with her dad now. ‘How’s everything going for your exhibition? OK?’ But she said it in a really cross, sarcastic voice.

  ‘Never mind the exhibition,’ said Dad. ‘We were talking about this camping trip. To be honest, even if I did think it was a good idea, I don’t think I’d have any influence on Mum. In fact, asking me to back you up might be the worst move you could make. What sort of mood is she in?’

  ‘She’s just banged her head on the cupboard door,’ said Jess. ‘Plus Edouard left most of his leek and bacon in cheese sauce. And Granny is going through a slightly crazy patch – hearing the voices of the dead, that sort of thing.’

  ‘Right,’ said Dad. ‘Not only is it a bad thing in general, getting me to ask Mum to let you do something, but at this moment in particular I’d say it was sheer lunacy for anyone to say anything to her, except possibly, “Mum, would you like me to bring you a cup of tea?”’

  ‘OK, never mind.’ Jess felt herself plummeting down into doom again. ‘It’s obvious you can’t help. Talk to you again soon. Bye.’ She put the phone down without even waiting for Dad to say, ‘Love you’, like he usually did. And she hadn’t said, ‘Love you’ herself either. She felt slightly sick about that. But she was furious that Dad wouldn’t back her up. He was so spineless sometimes – especially when it came to talking to Mum.

  Jess went downstairs into her room and sat glumly at her desk. The photo of Edouard was still pinned to her noticeboard. His smile didn’t look glamorous any more, now she knew he was barely five feet tall. She ripped it off the board and threw it in the bin. Then she suddenly thought that, if by some preposterous accident Edouard might come into her room, he might see his photo in her rubbish bin and feel hurt. So she picked it up and put it out of sight in a drawer.

  Her mobile buzzed. There was a text from Flora: WORKING ON IT. GIVE ME TIME.

  Jess instantly texted back. I BEG YOU, FIX IT AND I WILL WORSHIP YOU ALWAYS.

  Amid the deep, desolate, echoing despair there was the faintest hint of hope.

  Chapter 20

  Jess got out her homework books. They weighed a ton. How ironical it was that her granny could continue to talk to her grandpa after he’d been dead for months, when her stupid parents couldn’t exchange a few words on the phone, even though they were still alive. Especially as whenever her mum talked to anybody about the divorce, she always smiled in a superior kind of way and said, ‘It’s all very amicable.’

  If this is amicable, thought Jess, don’t let me ever have to experience hostile. She did some homework. It felt almost soothing, it was so far removed from her present traumas. Jess had to draw a map of the world and shade in the area covered by coniferous forests. For a brief half hour she imagined a carefree
life spent frolicking in the forests with Flora and Fred, but eventually she realised that the frolicking would probably be forbidden by feeble parents worried about fierce, ferocious, fanged wolves, bears and other feral fauna.

  The phone rang. Jess’s heart leapt and she jumped up, but she was only halfway to the door when her mum answered it, upstairs in her study. There was a moment’s pause, and then she called, ‘Jess! It’s Dad!’

  Jess ran out to the kitchen, grabbed the phone and said, ‘Hello!’ She heard the faint click of her mum replacing the phone upstairs.

  ‘You hung up on me,’ said Dad.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Jess. ‘I was in a total strop. I do love you, though. Honest.’

  ‘I do love you, too,’ said Dad. ‘And I’ve had a think about it and I’ll talk to Mum about the camping trip if you like.’

  ‘But, Dad – you spoke to her just now.’

  ‘Yes, but I thought I’d better talk to you first and see if anything else had happened since we spoke. Any more developments to the melodrama.’

  ‘No. I’ll get her now. Hang on!’

  Jess raced upstairs, only to see her mum disappearing into the bathroom.

  ‘Mum! Wait!’ she called. ‘Dad wants to speak to you!’

  Her mum didn’t even pause. She just kind of flared her eyes slightly as she closed the bathroom door in Jess’s face.

  ‘I’m having a bath now!’ she said through the door. ‘Apologise to him for me! We can catch up later on.’ Jess heard the bath taps being turned on.

  Jess’s heart sank yet again. She went into Mum’s study and picked up the phone there.

  ‘Sorry, Dad,’ she said. ‘Mum’s in the loo, and she’s running a bath, and she’s already getting undressed, and she can’t come out because of Edouard.’ She felt she had to exaggerate her mum’s situation so Dad wouldn’t be offended. She seemed to spend so much of her time as a kind of diplomatic go-between, when her parents, being technically adults, should have been able to communicate politely themselves.

  ‘Oh well.’ Dad sounded relieved that he didn’t have to speak to Mum. He just couldn’t hide it. ‘Never mind. Maybe later. Or tomorrow.’

  ‘You’re such a wuss,’ said Jess. ‘I can see you’re wriggling out of it. By tomorrow it’ll be too late. Ring in about an hour, OK?’

  ‘OK,’ said Dad doubtfully. ‘I’ll try.’

  ‘Try?’ snapped Jess. ‘You pick the phone up, dial and speak. What’s so difficult?’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Dad. ‘I admit, I am hopeless.’ But even the way he said it was kind of satisfied. Jess felt irritated, but she decided she simply had to keep her temper now and say goodbye in a civilised way.

  Suddenly she heard Edouard’s door open. He went downstairs – normally, this time.

  ‘OK, Dad,’ she said. ‘The French boy’s just gone downstairs. I ought to go and be with Granny. She speaks even less French than I do, which is totally nil.’

  Dad said goodbye, and Jess paid a fleeting visit to Mum’s bedroom mirror, shuddered in dismay and went downstairs. She had assumed that Granny would be watching TV and Edouard would be standing about awkwardly, but to her surprise they were both sitting at the kitchen table, and Granny had got out her packs of cards and was shuffling them.

  ‘Ah, hello, dear,’ she said. ‘We were going to play Bezique, but we can play Belote instead if you want to join us, because Bezique’s just for two.’ Jess was amazed. Her granny’s packs of cards had been a constant part of Jess’s childhood, but she hadn’t realised that some of the games Granny played had French names. Edouard was looking relaxed for once.

  ‘Yes, why not?’ said Jess. ‘And afterwards maybe we can play poker for matchsticks.’

  Half an hour later, Jess realised she was beginning to feel a lot better. Edouard had smiled a few times. Granny seemed to have melted him, the old charmer that she was. He had won most of the card games. They were planning a hot chocolate and chocolate biscuit break in five minutes, which would surely transform him into a purring pussycat.

  Then the phone rang. Jess jumped up to answer it, half expecting it would be Dad again. But it wasn’t.

  ‘Hello,’ said a woman’s voice. ‘Could I speak to Mrs Jordan, please? This is Rose Bradshaw.’ The woman sounded quite posh, but sort of shy and dreamy.

  ‘Oh, yes, of course. Hang on a minute, I’ll go and find her,’ said Jess, slightly intimidated. She ran upstairs and knocked on the bathroom door. Mum was having one of her endless soaky baths.

  ‘Mum!’ she called. ‘There’s a phone call for you! A strange woman! She sounds important! Her name’s Rose Bradshaw!’

  ‘Rose Bradshaw?’ said Mum, sounding startled.

  ‘Maybe it’s somebody from the library!’ said Jess. ‘Come quick!’

  ‘I don’t know that name at all. Tell her I’ll be there in a minute,’ said Mum, sounding flustered. Jess could hear splashy sounds of her getting out of the bath.

  Typical, thought Jess. When an unknown woman rings, Mum scrambles out of the bath in ludicrous haste; when my actual dad rings, her literal ex and only husband, she locks herself in the bathroom even though she hasn’t even started undressing.

  ‘Don’t tell her I was in the bath!’ added Mum, sounding foolishly guilty for some reason.

  ‘Why not?’ asked Jess. ‘It’s not illegal.’

  ‘If you say I was in the bath, she’ll feel guilty she rang so late,’ said Mum. ‘Oh, don’t bother – I’m nearly ready …’ And then suddenly the bathroom door was flung open and Mum, swathed in towels, rushed past into her study. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll deal with it,’ she added, and picked up the phone.

  ‘Hello?’ she said. Jess loitered on the landing, eavesdropping. ‘Yes … Yes. Ah, I see … Jess!’ called her mum. ‘Please could you go downstairs and put the phone down? I can hear Granny talking.’

  Jess went downstairs. Granny was making the hot chocolate and merrily telling Edouard about her arthritic hip. He couldn’t have understood a word, but he didn’t seem to mind. Granny had found the chocolate biscuits and he was getting stuck in. Jess replaced the phone.

  A few minutes later, Mum came downstairs in her naff old jog pants and fleece.

  ‘That was Jodie’s aunt,’ she said. ‘She had a long talk with me and reassured me that this camping trip is going to be properly organised. Apparently Fred’s providing a big tent for the boys and Mrs Bradshaw’s providing a big tent for the girls, and she’s going to keep an eye on you all, and if it rains you can move to the barn.’

  ‘So it’s OK, then?’ Jess hardly dared breathe.

  ‘I suppose so,’ said Mum, with just a hint of reluctant sulkiness.

  ‘Brilliant!’ said Jess.

  Later that evening, after a lot more card games, Jess had a call from Flora, who explained how it had all happened.

  ‘My mum rang Jodie’s mum and got Jodie’s auntie’s number,’ she said. ‘And my mum talked to her. And then Jodie’s mum rang a friend of hers who has an amazing tent. And then I rang Jodie and persuaded her to let Fred come. And then Mum rang Fred’s mum and, and then … oh, there were loads more phone calls with the grown-ups all faffing around and fussing about details, and eventually they got it all sorted.’

  ‘You beauty!’ said Jess. ‘A gold star for fixing! Tomorrow I shall kiss your feet – no, wait, your hand – no, sorry – well, I’ll refrain from punching you. Will that do?’

  ‘Oh yes, that’s such a relief!’ said Flora. ‘Anyway, I hope this camping trip lives up to the promise. I mean, after everything we’ve been through to get it sorted, it’d be terrible if it was a disaster, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘What can go wrong?’ said Jess confidently. She just knew it was going to be brilliant.

  As she kissed Granny goodnight later, Granny gave the thumbs-up.

  ‘So pleased your camping trip is on after all!’ she whispered. They were in Jess’s room, where Granny was going to sleep, but Mum could just have overheard. ‘I expect it was Grandpa’s influenc
e!’ And Granny gave a ludicrous wink. Jess didn’t have the heart to tell her that no, it had been Flora and Flora’s mum.

  But then, who knows? Maybe Grandpa had sent down some positive vibes. Jess did hope that Granny would cut down on the supernatural stuff soon, though. It was just a tad creepy and weird.

  Chapter 21

  The field was divine. The sun was shining. It was gloriously warm for so early in the year, and Marie-Louise was already showing a convenient appetite for chores. She was unpacking all the catering stuff and arranging it tidily on a couple of boxes, near where they planned to have the campfire. Jodie’s uncle had brought them a load of dry wood. Jess was looking forward to sitting round the campfire and possibly singing silly songs tonight, under the stars.

  The girls’ tent was a fabulous modern one which had kind of leapt into shape all by itself, enabling Flora, Jodie and Jess to sit on a blanket and jeer while they watched the boys struggling with Fred’s father’s old army tent. It didn’t really have any bloodstains and bullet holes, but there were loads of guy ropes and poles and things and the whole thing kept sagging in the middle.

  ‘It’s a good job Gerard’s so tall,’ sighed Jodie, proudly watching as her dreamboat held up one end of the tent. Gerard was wearing a vest-type T-shirt which revealed his olive skin. Occasionally he looked over to the girls, grinned and shrugged in a cool kind of way, but nobody could tell who he was grinning at because, of course, he was wearing his shades.

  ‘On the other hand, it’s a disaster that Fred’s so tall,’ said Jess. Fred was fussing with the other side of the tent and tripping over the tent pegs.

  ‘It’s a shame Edouard is such an insane little dork,’ said Jodie. ‘Never mind, Jess, maybe it’ll be your turn next year.’

  This was Jodie’s way of warning Jess and Flora that Gerard was, in some territorial kind of way, utterly hers. Even though everybody had noticed Gerard’s tendency to escape from Jodie’s side whenever possible and chat to other girls.

  ‘Don’t forget that Fred and I are practically married,’ said Jess with a broad wink, in case Marie-Louise overheard. Although Edouard hadn’t been so gross as to reveal a sordid passion for her, she didn’t want to encourage him by appearing available. ‘And anyway, I absolutely adore Edouard. I’ve taught him to beg for biscuits and I’m having him wormed and de-flea’d next week.’ Flora giggled uncontrollably. Her laugh was infectious, like a rippling stream that just went on and on.