When Loops turned and left, Hannah followed her.
“See you, Katie,” she said sadly.
I stood there in shock, thinking that they are absolutely right to hate me for what I’ve done. I am quite possibly the worst person in the history of the universe.
I closed the front door and walked back into the living room. Mum was on the sofa. The breakfast dishes were uncleared. Mandy was nowhere to be seen, and Jack was on the computer. The TV wasn’t on, but Mum was staring at it. I realized that my two best friends walking out on me had completely passed her by.
9:32 p.m.
I spent the rest of the afternoon crying under my duvet and Mum didn’t even notice. Mandy came home and saw my attractively swollen face and went straight into Sympathy Mode, thank goodness. I don’t think I could have stood it if she hadn’t cared.
Mandy was shocked that Mum was so out of it she hadn’t noticed what was going on. It’s like she’s given up—she doesn’t care about doing the laundry or even getting in basic provisions so we don’t starve.
So we called Auntie Susan, who came over and looked at Mum and told us that she will come back tomorrow to take Mum to the doctor’s. This must be serious.
Sunday, December 6: 3:00 p.m.
DEPRESSED MODE
This is when Grown-Ups are miserable, gloomy, moping about and thinking sad thoughts but it’s not just a passing thing, it goes on for ages. Think of Sad Mode but going on and on and on.
Sometimes there’s a good reason for a Grown-Up to be in Depressed Mode; sometimes there’s no reason at all. Some say it’s a chemical thing in the brain. It’s definitely an illness and so there is only one piece of good advice: get your Grown-Up to see a doctor.
Mum saw the doctor almost three weeks ago. She’s on antidepressants and I’m hoping they’ll start to help soon. It can take a while, apparently.
Mum spends a lot of time on the sofa, watching but not watching the TV. Every time I see her looking small and sad I feel terrible for what we’ve done. She must know we were behind it, but she hasn’t said anything. She’s not angry at Mandy and me. She’s in Depressed Mode. Which is, of course, far worse.
As if that’s not bad enough, Hannah and Loops haven’t spoken to me since they told me what they thought of me. And I haven’t had the heart to write about it. Or to write anything, in fact …
Because I don’t have Hannah or Loops, Leanne has been giving me a hard time every chance she gets. She’s been following me around saying I have no friends and everyone hates me. The Mutants follow her as she follows me, laughing at everything she says.
“Thomas Finch said you’re a terrible kisser,” she’ll say. “He said it was like kissing a fish.”
“I don’t care,” I say.
But I do.
I know she’s lying, because even if it were true, how would Thomas know how a fish kisses? Imagine if that was how he’d learned. That would definitely be worse than Hannah practicing on her hand.
Thomas tried to talk to me. He came up to me on the school bus.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Forget it,” I said, “it was my own stupid fault for believing what you said. I’d like you to stay away from me, please.”
I’m angry with him for misleading me and for what he did to Loops. Of course Neil Parkhouse and Jonathan Elliott are still buddies with him. If you’re a boy, you can get away with anything and your mates will still think you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Meanwhile, I’m the Outcast.
To be fair, Hannah and Loops are not being mean to me—probably because they see that Leanne has that taken care of. They just act like I’m invisible.
I’m too embarrassed and ashamed of myself to try to talk to them, so it’s not like I’m trying and they’re ignoring me … but when I walk past they don’t look at me.
Auntie Susan and Auntie Julie have been coming over most days to help us out and to try to get Mum interested in things.
“She’s just like she was after Mike died,” said Auntie Susan, in the kitchen.
“No,” said Auntie Julie, “I think she’s worse.”
Auntie Susan’s in Worried Mode because Hannah and me are not talking.
“I don’t know what caused this, but can’t you two just get over it?” she asked me.
“You don’t understand,” I said.
7:42 p.m.
You know how they say “misery loves company”? Well, Mandy and me are getting along famously now that we are both feeling so terrible. There hasn’t been any shouting or arguments for weeks.
Actually, Mandy’s being great. I told her what happened with Hannah and Loops, so she’s being quite protective. She sits beside me instead of the Clones on the school bus. Which is just about the nicest thing she’s ever done for me.
Thank goodness Jack has the thick skin of a rhinoceros. I think he’s actually enjoying that we all have less to say. Now he can tell us all about his favorite Doctor Who characters for hours on end and we won’t interrupt.
The other day he burped the entire national anthem. Note perfect. Even that could not cheer me up.
But he’s not a complete rhinoceros.
“When’s Stuart coming back?” he says now and again. He said it today.
I said to Mandy the other night, when we were going to sleep, “We shouldn’t have done it, should we?”
There was this long silence. Then she answered in a very small, very unlike-Mandy sort of voice, “No.”
Friday, December 11: 10:00 p.m.
BRAVE FACE MODE
Many models of Grown-Ups are very good at Brave Face Mode, where they put on a cheerful appearance with other people, when really they are a quivering wreck who—in the privacy of their own home—can hardly move from the sofa.
It can be useful if your Grown-Up can go into Brave Face Mode because it saves embarrassment when you are out with them. It’s not much fun having your Grown-Up bursting into tears in the post office and telling some stranger in line all their troubles.
However, some models of Grown-Ups are so good at Brave Face Mode, other Grown-Ups don’t realize they need help. In such a case it’s up to you to let the right people know.
It’s only a week till school breaks up for Christmas and it’s nearly a whole month since I fell out with Hannah and Loops. It’s been pretty hideous, but I think that after all I’ve done I deserve to be miserable. Betraying one of your best friends, breaking your mum’s heart … I’m a class act.
The antidepressants are working. Mum’s getting up and doing things now. She’s putting a brave face on things because of Christmas coming, so she’s even pretending to be enthusiastic about putting up the decorations.
But despite Mum walking and talking and seeming normal again, I can’t operate her anymore. I can’t reach her. It’s as if there is a bubble around her. If you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t know there was anything wrong, but we can see it.
She is just not herself.
She doesn’t do all the silly little things she used to do, like laughing uncontrollably at something stupid on TV (like a dog wearing a hat or something) or telling us we look “ravishing” when we’re just in our school uniforms or announcing out of nowhere that beards should be against the law.
She doesn’t even do her Saturday-morning puttering-about in Dad’s clothing anymore.
In the evenings, when Jack’s gone to bed, we all sit together and watch TV, huddled up together on the sofa. The other week there was a dog on a skateboard wearing sunglasses—Mum didn’t even crack a smile.
Mandy and me aren’t going out for sleepovers or seeing anyone. Well, I don’t have a choice, if I’m honest, seeing as I have no friends now. But even if I did, I don’t think I’d want to leave Mum when—despite her brave face—I know she’s not herself. Mandy feels the same way. After all, what happened is completely our fault.
Even Rascal is depressed. He’s pining for Stuart! He won’t sit on the sofa with us anymore, but sits under the
kitchen table looking very put out.
I wish things could go back to how they were before.
Monday, December 14: 9:30 p.m.
Mum had an evening training session with Mrs. Caulfield, so Auntie Julie came over to see us.
“Do you think she’s getting better?” she asked. “Is she over him yet?”
“It looks like she’s never going to be over him,” said Mandy. “She’s going to be sad and lonely for the rest of her life.”
“So what should we do?” I said to Auntie Julie. “You thought of the Cunning Plan. I can’t get through to her. Nothing is working. Can you think of a way that we could get them back together?”
Auntie Julie looked at me as if I was mad.
“Get them back together?” said Auntie Julie. “Why would we want to do that? Isn’t this what you said you wanted? Give her a few months and I’ll take her speed dating in Oxford and she’ll have hundreds of men falling over themselves to go out with her.”
“So that’s what it’s all about,” I said, realization dawning.
“What?” Auntie Julie looked uncomfortable.
“You just want someone to go speed dating with, so you don’t have to do it on your own!”
“That’s not true!” she said, looking very uncomfortable. “Well, maybe it is … but don’t try to pin this all on me. It was you two who talked me into helping. It was you who wanted to get rid of him. I only want what’s best for your mum.”
“No you don’t!” I shouted.
SAD BUT TRUE FACT
Grown-Ups can be just as self-deluding, childish and selfish as we are. Get used to it.
I ran out of the house and down the street, not knowing where I was going, but needing to run because I was so angry with Auntie Julie—and with myself.
After about a hundred meters, of course, I bumped into a relative. Statistically, this was bound to happen. It happened to be Nan. I almost knocked the cigarette out of her hand.
“What’s wrong with you?” she said. “Every time I see you these days you look like it’s the end of the world.”
“Nothing,” I said, still feeling angry. “Anyway, I can’t tell you, can I? Anything I tell you gets round the whole village. I might as well phone the local radio station.”
Nan looked wounded. “Is that what you think? That I can’t keep a secret? Well, I’ll have you know that I know secrets that would make your hair curl. If anyone tells me something in confidence, then it stays that way. ‘Loose lips sink ships!’—that’s what they said in the war. You can go on your way if you want, but if you want to come with me and have a cup of tea and tell your nan all about it, I can promise you that it will go no further.”
So I went to Nan’s and I had a cup of tea out of one of her Golden Jubilee mugs. I told her everything. About the Cunning Plan and Stuart leaving and Mum being brokenhearted. I told her about falling out with Hannah and Loops over Thomas. But I didn’t tell her about Mandy and Joshua Weston. That’s Mandy’s business.
“Well, that’s quite a tale,” she said when I’d finished. “So what are you going to do? ‘Where there’s a will, there’s a way.’ ”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve thought about telling Mum, or phoning Stuart, or even going up to Oxford to talk to him. Then I think I’ve done enough already.”
Nan went into her kitchen to wash up our mugs, then came back and sat down and took a deep breath.
“I agree. I think you should do nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“That’s what I said. Absolutely nothing. Your mum lost your father, and he was her rock. What she needs—and what you all need—is the next person in your lives to be someone who’ll stick around, not run at the first sign of trouble. If Stuart loves her the way she deserves to be loved, he shouldn’t care about what you or any of us think. What you did with your silly plan was like a test, and in my opinion he failed it.”
I hadn’t thought of it like that. It made me feel better.
“Thanks, Nan,” I said.
“And one more thing,” she said, “I think it’s about time you went and apologized to your friends. ‘It’s never too late to mend.’ ”
Tuesday, December 15: 9:40 p.m.
Today I summoned up more courage than I’ve ever needed in my life before. After school I went to Loops’s house.
Joshua answered the door.
“I don’t think she wants to see you,” he said with his usual scowl (which makes it hard to know if he is annoyed or just being his normal self).
“Please,” I begged.
Loops appeared behind him. “It’s okay,” she said, “she can come in.”
She showed me through to her bedroom, where Hannah was sitting on the bed. Neither of them would look me in the eye.
I wondered if Hannah was going to have a sleepover at Loops’s house, the way I used to at hers. I felt like I’d been cheated on, which is stupid. I’ve got to realize that some things change and if Hannah and me don’t have our sacred Friday nights anymore it doesn’t mean we’re not still best friends.
I took a deep breath.
“I’ve come to say I’m sorry. I don’t deserve to be your friend … and I miss you. I miss both of you so much.”
Then I couldn’t go on; I started to cry. It all came rushing out, all the sadness I’d been feeling seeing Mum so miserable and missing Hannah and Loops and messing everything up. I stood in the doorway of the room and blubbed like a baby.
Which was when I found out what brilliant friends I have. Because they instantly went into Hugging Mode, and there’s nothing like Hugging Mode to make everything a million, billion, zillion, trillion times better.
After we’d hugged for ages and cried some more, Loops got chocolate out of the secret stash she keeps under her bed. And we got down to the serious business of catching up.
“Guess who Loops is seeing?” said Hannah, grinning.
“Who?” I said, and for a moment I wondered if it was Thomas Finch. I told myself that if it was then I had to just accept it. There’s always the Himalayas.
“Jonathan Elliott!” shrieked Loops.
I was surprised at how relieved I felt.
“It’s all because I found out Ailsa Prior likes him!”
Ailsa Prior is good-looking, sophisticated and cool—and she’s sixteen. Loads of boys fancy her. But I couldn’t understand what Loops was going on about.
“I found out she had a thing for Jonathan!” explained Loops. “I heard Mandy talking to Lucy Parrish about it on the bus last week. That’s when I realized that I still liked him, because I didn’t want him to go out with her, I wanted him to go out with me! So I went and asked him … and that was that!”
“And he told Loops that he prefers her!” said Hannah, totally delighted for Loops.
“Jonathan says he has a thing for redheads,” said Loops smugly. “Did you know that only two percent of the world’s population has red hair and we might be extinct in less than a hundred years?”
I could guess who’d told her that fascinating fact. It turns out she’s always preferred Jonathan.
“I liked Thomas,” Loops said, “but there was never that spark like there is with Jonathan. You know, I think Thomas has always liked you, Katie.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen,” I said.
Loops smiled and put her arm around me. “If it did happen,” she said, “I wouldn’t mind.”
I walked home with a giant smile on my face. I think that tonight I’m going to sleep better than I have in weeks.
But I mean it about Thomas Finch. The moment has passed.
Friday, December 18: 7:10 p.m.
DETERMINED MODE
When a Grown-Up goes into Determined Mode they really want to achieve something. It is best to be supportive of your Grown-Up when they are like this, as they will focus on their goal and move toward it single-mindedly, and they will not let anything get in their way.
You know, it’s
funny how things work out. I mean, Mum’s now on proper good terms with Auntie Julie and Uncle Dave and Auntie Susan again and we’re having them all over on Christmas Eve for dinner.
Despite everything that happened and their part in it, she’s never going to turn her back on them—family’s too important to her.
Mum is in full Determined Mode about making this dinner party a success. And I am not going to try to talk her out of it. I’m just relieved that she has some enthusiasm again—even if it is does mean poisoning us all.
“I’ll cook you all something really special,” she said to Auntie Susan and Uncle Dave, when we were at their house on Sunday. They tried to look delighted—all except Matthew, who looked frightened. He’s obviously afraid he might lose his taste buds like Jack has.
Even better, school finished for Christmas today. Yee-ha! And it ended spectacularly.
Leanne and Shannon and the Mutants found me at lunchtime on the playground, and Leanne started taunting me as usual.
“Look, it’s little Miss No-Mates,” she started.
As usual, I ignored them. I wondered what would come next. Maybe a taunt about my knobbly knees.
I tried to walk off, but Leanne cornered me and squirted some water from her water bottle over my head.
“Sorry!” Leanne said. “I keep accidentally spilling water all over you!”
I tried to brush the water out of my eyes, but Leanne kept squirting me. My hair was sopping wet and dripping. Then I saw Hannah and Loops come running over. Hannah knocked the water bottle out of Leanne’s hand and Loops kicked it across the playground. Then they stood beside me, shoulder to shoulder.
“Leave her alone,” Loops said firmly.
You should have seen Leanne’s face.
“So what else are you going to do to me, Leanne?” I said. “I seem to have found some mates after all.”
She gave her nasty little smile. You could see her tiny brain working out that there were still only three of us and she had Shannon and all the Mutants on her side.
Diary of a Parent Trainer Page 17
