Amelia sighs. “St Clement’s.”
“So Lady Muck is going to poshos school for posh people?” asks Tanya.
“Yeah, yeah,” says Amelia.
“Well, each to their own,” says Tanya reasonably. “No offence, but you might be better off with them, learning how to hold in your farts in Latin.”
Natalie unexpectedly starts laughing, and then she can’t stop. She doubles over hysterically, holding her stomach, and leans on a desk for support.
“Haha, you’re … going … learn … hold farts in…” and then she’s off into hysterical giggles again.
“I think you’ve cheered Natalie up,” I tell Tanya.
“Good,” says Tanya. “You’ve got nothing to be sad about, you weirdos,” she tells them. Nat tries to reply but nothing comes out.
“Don’t get people feeling sad about leaving primary school,” says Tanya matter-of-factly. “That’s like being sad you no longer wear nappies. I can’t wait to get out there. The best is yet to come.”
Tanya’s wise words make me feel good about the future again. The weird nostalgia for the beech tree I was feeling is replaced by a simple happiness that I had the tree at all.
The tree will always be there in my past, and I will always have my memories. But I don’t need it any more. That’s not what it’s for. It’s for the next generation to play witches when it rains. I’m off, going places. It’s the right time.
Plus, I know what I’m about now. Having been riding high and falling low with the fickle fame game, I just want to keep my head down and do the cartoon work without too much fuss, and build up a portfolio for my future.
I mean, I’m still really looking forward to secondary school and everything, and all it will bring. But what about my career? Exactly.
“Hurry up, Jess, we’re going to be late.” Nat’s parents are picking me up and dropping us at the end-of-term disco. Amelia is already in the car.
“It’s cool to be late. We’ll be fashionably late,” I tell Nat as I put my shoes on and shout goodbye over my shoulder to my family.
The disco is in full swing when we get there. The dance floor is packed. Everyone is dancing to a Megan Flyer song. Then, as we head towards a table at the edge of the room with cups of squash on it, the DJ puts on a slow MBlaze number, and the dance floor empties amid groans.
Luckily the DJ learns from his mistake and doesn’t do that again. He sticks with the more upbeat popular songs for a bit, and the dance floor gets busy again.
Natalie and Amelia want to play it cool to start with, so we go and drink our squash, surveying the scene. Harriet VanDerk comes over to get a drink.
“Oh, look who it is,” says Amelia nastily. Oh, don’t pick a fight with Harriet now, I think. We’re supposed to be having a good time.
“Oh, hello,” says Harriet disdainfully.
“I think you owe Jessica an apology,” asserts Amelia. And don’t use me in this game either, I think, annoyed.
“What for?” asks Harriet.
“You were very rude to Jess about her cartoon being stolen,” says Nat. “And as you know, she’s been cleared. You should say sorry for being so horrible.”
Harriet puts down her cup of squash and looks at us, irritated. I think she’s about to argue but then she sighs. “Sorry, Jessica,” she says quite earnestly.
“Oh, um, that’s OK,” I say awkwardly, surprised. “No worries at all.” And with that, Harriet picks up her squash and heads off. Phew. That was actually relatively painless.
“Oh, by the way, Jess, while I remember,” says Amelia. “Nat and I and some of the other members of D.A.F.T. had a vote on a new gang name the other day.”
“What?” I say, alarmed.
“Yeah,” says Amelia. “We’ve voted to rename it the Super Intelligent Cool Kids.”
Wait… “SICK?!” I cry. “You want to rename the gang after vomit?” To my surprise they both burst out laughing.
“PSYCH!” hoots Natalie.
“Haha! You totally believed us,” says Amelia.
“I can’t believe you believed us,” says Natalie.
“I can’t believe you said psych,” I retort indignantly.
“We were actually considering Super Intelligent Chicks though,” says Amelia then.
“Because that would be S.I.C.,” explains Nat. “The good kind. Then we got the idea to trick you and you totally fell for it!”
“Yes, yes, very good,” I say politely. I can take a joke. But really, with their track record with G.U.F. and everything, you can’t blame me. Oh well. It’s quite a good prank really.
We survey the scene a bit longer and then inevitably Natalie and Amelia want to dance. I cringe inwardly. I really don’t feel like I’m a great dancer, but they grab my hands and soon we are messing about, jumping and bopping around on the dance floor too. It’s surprisingly fun.
Then the Megan Flyer song “Party Don’t Stop” comes on, the song from the end of our school play that Nat and Amelia made up a dance to, a dance we taught most of our year to perform.
Spontaneously, everyone finds their places and morphs into a synchronised group. There’s a look in everyone’s eyes that sort of says, “I can’t believe we’re doing this, but it’s so naff it’s fun.”
We even still part like a sea, and let Tanya do her special witchy bit in the middle. I feel so happy that I was a part of how and why this happened. It’s daft having one big legacy, I think, when really, we’ve all left a trail of lots of mini ones.
As the next song comes on, Joshua dances over to us. He’s doing his funny skids and clowning comedy, like when he was the Scarecrow, but still sort of dancing. His fringe is flopping in and out of his face.
“Care to dance?” He extends one arm. I gingerly take it, and suddenly he is whirling me around. It’s like we’re doing sort of very fast 1950s dancing with lots of swinging. (I don’t know the names of any dances because I don’t pay attention when my parents are watching Strictly.)
After a couple of songs I’m really thirsty, so we stop dancing and sit down by the squash table to get our breath back.
“You’re a really good dancer,” I tell him.
“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.”
“Haha,” I say.
Emily, Megan and Fatimah come over to the table for some squash. “Hi, guys,” says Emily. “Nice dancing.”
“How funny was that when everyone did the Megan Flyer dance?” says Megan.
“Brilliant,” agrees Fatimah.
“I hope we get to do stuff like that at secondary school,” says Emily.
“I’m sure we will,” I say.
“Yeah, it’s going to be ace,” says Emily. “We’ll have to teach everyone the would you rather game, hey?”
“Definitely,” I grin. I wonder if I’ll end up in the same sets as the people I know. Be cool if we still got to shoot the breeze in Art and play the would you rather game. They head off to find crisps.
“Hey,” says Joshua. “I’m really glad we got to know each other.” This seems a bit serious all of a sudden. I never know how to react when people are serious. That’s partly why I make jokes.
“Me too,” I say politely.
“Do you think things will be really different when we leave?”
“Hey, guys!” Cherry and Shantair come over to the squash table.
“So thirsty, so much dancing,” says Shantair as they glug squash.
“Guess what, Jess, there is definitely a chess club at Hillfern Seniors,” says Cherry. “Shall we join it?”
“Yeah, why not?” I reply. They head off again.
“I don’t think they’ll be that different,” I say smiling. “I mean, probably quite different in some ways, but you know, some things will probably remain constant.”
“I consider you a good friend,” says Joshua. “I hope that—” he begins, but I cut him off.
“Oh my God, they’re slow-dancing!” I cry. “Nat and Amelia are slow-dancing with Daniel and Joe
!”
A slower song has come on. Natalie and Joe are holding hands, standing a foot apart, stepping from side to side. Amelia and Daniel are actually sort of hugging and shuffling about. Both couples look slightly awkward. Natalie catches my eye and sees I’m laughing and scowls at me.
“Ah, leave them alone,” says Joshua. “They can slow-dance if they like.”
“Ha,” I say. “They look funny.”
“That’s very mature,” jokes Joshua.
“Oh, look who’s lecturing me on being mature,” I respond. I love joke-arguing with Joshua.
Instead of insulting me back, Joshua reaches out and takes my hand. I’m so surprised I go completely blank. Then Tanya arrives at the squash table and Joshua drops my hand again.
“’Ello ’ello,” says Tanya. “Not a bad party, not too shabby. Could do with more snacks if you ask me.”
“And the squash is too watered down.” Amelia joins us.
“Where’s your dance partner?” I tease her.
“Oh,” she says, looking round. “I don’t know. It’s just a bit of fun. It’s good practice to dance with boys, you know.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” I say.
As the slow song ends, the lights come up and people groan.
“Oh my God. That’s the end. That’s the end of school,” I say.
Tanya high-fives me. “Yeah, it is!” She beams.
A chant of “one more song” starts up from the direction of the dance floor.
“Do you want one more song?” asks the DJ.
“Yes!” shout the crowd.
“I can’t hear you!” shouts back the DJ.
“This DJ is an idiot,” says Tanya.
“I said, do you want one more song?” he asks again.
“YES!” shout the crowd.
I’m about to defend the DJ to Tanya and say he’s not that bad, but at that moment, he puts on the “The Grease Megamix”.
Amelia facepalms. “So unoriginal,” she mutters.
“Told you he’s an idiot,” says Tanya.
Nat starts shouting and gesturing for us to join her on the dance floor. Everyone’s really going for it again.
I glance at Joshua. “Let’s do it,” he says.
The four of us link arms and head back to the dance floor. Then we all dance like crazy in spite of ourselves.
It really is a fun night. Some of the most fun I’ve had. So far. And it seems like a good send-off and way to say goodbye to school. I feel excited about what’s going to happen next.
What has two thumbs and a bright future ahead of them? This guy. (I am pointing at myself with my thumbs, but making it look like a cool dance move.)
Acknowledgements
Massive thanks again to Suzy Jenvey, Kirsty Stansfield, Dom Kingston, Kate Wilson, Lindsey Fraser, Kathryn Ross, and Sarah Horne.
I managed to finish the final draft of this book a few days before giving birth to my baby daughter, Phoebe, so I would also like to thank her for not coming too early and scuppering the plan. Good work, Phoebes. High-five. (She leaves me hanging.)
And also thank YOU for reading.
Copyright
For Margaret, Eileen and Sheila, my brilliant aunties
MY GREAT SUCCESS AND OTHER FAILURES
First published in the UK in 2015 by Nosy Crow Ltd
The Crow’s Nest, 10a Lant Street
London, SE1 1QR, UK
This ebook edition first published 2015
Nosy Crow and associated logos are trademarks and / or registered trademarks of Nosy Crow Ltd
Text © Catherine Wilkins, 2015
Cover illustrations © Sarah Horne, 2015
Interior illustrations © Sarah Horne, 2015
The right of Catherine Wilkins to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictiously. Any resemblence to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978 0 85763 491 7
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My Great Success and Other Failures Page 10
