Recipe for Rebellion (Zodiac Girls)

by Cathy Hopkins

  I went to the astrology site and just as Joe had said, a pop-up appeared inviting me to take part in a competition.

  Answer this question and win a makeover for your home from top stylist PJ Vlasaova and his team of wonder workers.

  Excellent, I thought, Joe is really on the ball. First his brill idea about baking and now this. If I win a home makeover, I could make a mark on this place and cheer it up a bit. And what’s more, it could be a surprise for Aunt Esme.

  I looked to see what the question was.

  Dui Pater is another name for what?

  Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, I thought as I typed in my answer: Jupiter.

  Chapter Nine

  Bad boys

  School was uneventful for the rest of the week as I behaved myself for a change and kept my head down in class. I still haven’t made any real friends there but people certainly know who I am now: the girl with the big mouth. The girl who cheeks the teachers. The girl who put trick soap in the teacher’s cloakroom, turned the swimming pool bright red etc etc. But nobody knows who I really am behind the tough act. I’m still the lonely girl. I wished Sushila was in my class because even though she has loads of friends, she always stops to chat if she sees me in the playground or at the bus stop after school.

  “Hey Danu,” asked Marie Marshall who sits behind me in Maths. “Got any more good tricks up your sleeve?”

  I shook my head. “Nah. That phase in my life is over.”

  “So what next?” she asked.

  “Not sure,” I replied. “I might stand for parliament but I might also join the foreign legion. Whatever. You’ll have to find someone else to entertain you when classes are dull.”

  Marie’s face registered hurt for a second. “I was only asking,” she said. “No need to be sarcastic.”

  The bell went and she flounced out to break with her friend. Stupid, stupid, I thought. Why had I snapped at her like that? She was only being friendly but I hadn’t given her a chance. We could have had a nice normal chat about what I was going to do next. I was looking forward to it immensely. My “get myself expelled” plan hadn’t worked. My “act like a mad person” hadn’t worked. So I was ready to embark on Plan C. I was going to stop resisting and fighting against what had happened, I’d decided. I was going to go with the flow as Miss Luna would say (only without the hippie dancing). I’d try to accept the situation and make it better little by little. Joe had said it was up to me to make the changes and that’s what I was going to do. Make some changes starting at the flat.

  So far, it was all coming together beautifully. A couple of days after I’d entered the competition on the website, an email had come through saying that I’d won and the day after that, I got an email from the design team asking when I’d like them to come.

  “Next Monday,” I wrote back. “And it has to be done in a week.”

  Aunt Esme was flying off to New York on Sunday evening. Rosa was coming to stay. We had the half term week to do the flat before she got back.

  The timing couldn’t have worked out better. I couldn’t wait.

  After school, I popped into the Patels’ to get supplies for a carrot cake that I wanted to try out. I wanted to get home before the rain storm that had been threatening all afternoon began. Already the wind was whipping up making the square seem even colder and more unfriendly than usual. As I was walking towards our tower block with my purchases, I decided to call Joe to check something about the recipe. I pulled out my phone and punched in his code. Big mistake. A bunch of boys were hanging about near the ball sculpture in the middle on the square. One of them spotted my phone and nudged one of the others who looked my way. I could tell immediately that they were going to cause trouble.

  “Hello, hello?” asked Joe at the other end of the phone. “Is that you Danu? Is everything all right?”

  “Yes. No. Um. Got to go.”

  I quickly put the phone away. I should have known better. Our PSHE teacher was always warning us about keeping any items anyone might want to steal hidden when in dodgy places but too late, they had seen it.

  One of the boys jutted his chin at one of the others and he glanced my way and then nodded. A feeling of sickness hit the pit of my stomach. They were going to try and get me. I could feel it. I quickly counted them. One, two, three, four, five. Should I run back to the shop? I wondered, or try and make it up to the flat? Better decide. The boys were coming towards me. Oh God, oh God. So much for being a Zodiac Girl bringing me luck, I thought. My zodiac phone is just about to land me in it.

  I glanced over at the boys. They were getting closer. Run or fight? I asked myself as fear flooded through me. Run, run, said a voice in my head. But my feet weren’t moving. Suddenly from somewhere, deep in my gut, my fear turned to anger. I’d had enough of feeling that life was against me. Abandoned by Dad. Ignored by Aunt Esme. Left out by the girls at school. Enough! I’d had enough and I wasn’t going to take any more especially from a bunch of spotty-looking boys who were after the one nice present that anyone had given me in ages. Fight, said a voice at the back of my head.

  I shoved the phone back deep in my pocket, leant on one hip and turned to the boys.

  “Want something?”

  “Yeah,” sneered a tall boy with lank greasy hair. “Give us yer phone.”

  I gave him my best Nit Nurse withering look. “Give me your phone,” I said. “Me, not us, and your, not yer. That’s the correct way to say it you stupid boy. Now repeat after me. Give me your phone.”

  One of the boys sniggered which seemed to annoy the tall boy.

  “Shuddit Bazza,” he growled.

  “Shut it,” I said and looked around as if in exasperation. “Didn’t anyone teach you boys to speak properly?”

  For a moment the boys were stunned into silence. It looked as though nobody had ever spoken to them like I had and part of me couldn’t believe my nerve. But it didn’t take the tall boy long to regain his cockiness. He gave me a look like I was a piece of dirt then walked towards me and shoved my shoulder. “I said, give us yer phone.”

  I knew I was asking for trouble as the other thing that our PSHE teacher said is that if one of us is ever mugged or picked on, just hand over whatever it is that your assailant wants as your life is worth more than a watch or a phone or whatever’s being stolen. I knew that it was true but I wasn’t in a sensible mood. I felt angry and I wasn’t going to take being pushed around. I tried shoving the boy back but two of his mates grabbed my wrists and held them back. By now, my heart was beating really fast and my earlier courage was beginning to fade. Why oh why doesn’t anyone like a policeman walk past when you need them? I thought.

  The ringleader reached for my pocket to try and grab my phone. I wiggled away so that he couldn’t reach. He tried again. As my arms were pinned back, all I had to fight back with were my legs so I gave him a swift kick in the shin.

  “Oww,” he cried and bent down to rub his leg then he laughed an evil laugh, stood upright and looked at me as if he was deciding what to do with me next.

  “Seems like we’ve got a fighter here, Trev,” said the chubby one called Bazza to the tall boy as I kicked out again and struggled to get free. “A fighter with no brain.”

  Trev laughed again.

  “It’s you who’s got no brain,” I said. “You’re pathetic picking on a girl on her own.”

  Trev looked around as if he was pleased with himself. “Er… I don’t think so, little girl. Five of us. One of you. You do the maths.”

  “I have,” I said. “And it adds up to COWARDLY.”

  The boy scowled and attempted to reach for my pocket again as I wiggled and squirmed and tried to get away from him. But it was no use. They were all closing in on me and I was getting weaker. I closed my eyes and felt the boy reach into my pocket and begin to pull out the phone. I was about to tell them to take the stupid phone and just leave me alone when suddenly I felt one of the boys being pulled off.

  “I DON’T think that’s yours, lad,�
� said a familiar voice.

  I opened my eyes. It was Joe. And boy did he look angry.

  “Joe,” I cried. I’d never been happier to see anyone in my whole life.

  Joe bowed. “At your service Danu,” he said.

  Trev laughed. “At your service,” he mimicked. “Yeah right old geezer. Get him lads.”

  The boys released me and lined up ready to attack Joe. My heart was pounding away in my chest by now and I could hardly breathe.

  I leapt on Bazza’s back. “You leave him alone,” I said.

  Bazza shrugged me off like he was discarding an unwanted jacket.

  Trev laughed again. “Or else what?”

  Oh God, I thought. Or else what indeed? There were only two of us and Joe was by no means young or fit-looking with his round belly.

  But something was starting to happen to Joe.

  He took a deep breath in and seemed to grow in stature. Like someone was pumping him up like a bicycle tyre. He grew and grew. His belly began to shrink and his stomach appeared flatter. His shoulders grew broader. He seemed to be growing younger by the second. And taller. And no, yes… he was sprouting a beard! I rubbed my eyes. This can’t be happening, I thought as I watched Joe transform in front of my eyes into a lean mean fighting machine. A lean mean fighting machine with… no, no way, I can’t be seeing this! I told myself. Joe’s top half looked like that of a young athlete but his bottom half… his bottom half… It can’t be… looked like that of a horse! No. Not possible. I rubbed my eyes again and felt like I was about to faint. I swooned back against the nearest wall to recover and catch my breath. At that moment, there was a loud boom of thunder, a crack of lightning and the skies began to pour. In the dim light, it was hard to see exactly what was going on, it was all happening so fast. I must be imagining it, I thought as I watched Joe or someone very like Joe flex his muscles and charge into the scrum of boys like a kung fu expert. I stood aside and watched as one boy went flying into the bus shelter with the flick of a hand. With the kick of a hoof, another boy was tossed into the middle of the square as if he weighed nothing, a third boy stared at the half-man, half-horse that was Joe with horror then took off as fast as his legs could carry him leaving only Trev and Bazza behind.

  “Way to go Joe,” I said in admiration from the wall as they cowered before him.

  “You want to stay boys?” asked Joe looking down at them as a magnificent fork of lightning lit the sky followed by the deep boom of thunder.

  Bazza took off after his friends leaving only Trev. He and Joe stood opposite each other sizing each other up like cowboys about to have a shoot out.

  Suddenly Trev yelled, “Freak,” and made a run for Joe. Joe chuckled, put his hand out and held him back by his forehead. Trev frantically punched the air in front of him but try as he might he couldn’t get any closer. As his strength diminished, he began to look scared. He took one last look at Joe, turned on his heel and fled.

  “You okay Danu?” asked Joe as Trev disappeared round a corner and out of sight.

  “Uh yuh…” I nodded and this time I couldn’t stop it. I fell to the ground in a proper faint.

  When I came round a few moments later, I saw that Mrs Patel was running towards us through the rain. “I saw what was happening from the shop. I have phoned the police,” she said. “They are on their way. Danu, are you all right?”

  I looked around for Joe. He had returned to his usual form and was standing to my right looking at me with concern.

  “You fainted,” he said.

  “Ma… wuh… buh… huh…” was all that I could stutter. “H…horse…”

  “Horse?” asked Mrs Patel as she knelt down and put the palm of her hand on my forehead.

  I pointed up at Joe. “Horse. Jupiter. Archer…”

  Joe shrugged like he didn’t know what I was talking about.

  “I think she may be delirious,” said Mrs Patel. “Maybe she was hit by lightning. We’d best get her home.”

  Joe nodded.

  But I was sure that I wasn’t delirious. Nor been hit by lightning. Nor had I imagined what I had seen. I’m not one prone to hallucinations. Not normally. Joe had transformed himself right in front of me and it had sure as heck blown a hole in my theory that he was an innocent eccentric who belonged to a club of similar nutters who liked to dress up and pretend that they were planets. Oh no. What I had witnessed a few moments ago was waaaaay out of the ordinary. He had looked like a god. He had fought with the strength of ten men. And a horse. It couldn’t be true could it? I asked myself as I sat up. It couldn’t. Had Joe told the truth and he really was Jupiter? No. Not possible. It’s crazy. Or is it?

  As the police sirens grew closer, I closed my eyes, sank back to the wet ground and allowed myself to be carried home.

  Chapter Ten

  Makeover madness

  “When are they getting here?” asked Sushila who’d appeared on the doorstep first thing on Monday morning.

  “Any minute,” I replied. “Rosa and I are just having breakfast. Want some coffee or juice or something?”

  Sushila nodded and stepped inside. I’d told her on the bus coming home from school all about the makeover people and she had asked if she could be here when they came as she loved watching makeover type programmes on the telly.

  I felt so excited. Better than I had in ages. The flat makeover was the first thing I’d ever won in my whole life apart from a hamper of German sausages when I was ten and going through my vegetarian phase. My prize this time was going to be a lot more useful.

  I led Sushila through to the kitchen where Rosa was making coffee and reading the stick-it notes that I’d left all over the kitchen for her. I introduced the girls then found a mug for Sushila.

  “Kenyan or Columbian coffee?” I asked.

  “Just coffee,” said Sushila.

  “And a biscuit? We have pecan or chocolate? And we also have cake. Home-baked by me,” I said proudly.

  Our kitchen was now stocked up like a normal kitchen because before she left, I had asked Aunt Esme if I could do an internet shop for food and stuff. She had been in such a hurry getting ready for her trip that she agreed and I’d had a great old time with her debit card. Think big, Joe had kept telling me so I had. I’d stocked the kitchen up with all sorts of goodies. Rosa had helped me and ordered the basics in like bread, cheese, pasta, vegetables, fruit and so on. We had found a great site that had pictures of the food as well as the prices so she would point to items and I’d click on them to go in our basket.

  “What’s going on?” asked Sushila when she saw the stick-it notes.

  “I’m teaching Rosa English,” I said. Last night we had decided that it would be a good idea after our slow attempts to communicate with the matchstick drawings. Instead of doing pictures, we were using words on stick-it notes and then sticking them on the appropriate object. Like DOOR on the door. JAM on the jam. Rosa was a quick learner and already could say most of the things in the kitchen.

  As we fussed about making coffee, the doorbell went.

  “Design man coming,” said Rosa to Sushila who nodded back at her as we trooped out into the hall.

  I opened the door to three peculiar-looking people. A severe-looking blonde girl in heavy black glasses and hair scraped back in a bun, a stocky man with a shaved head who looked like a builder and was carrying a big case, and a tall thin man with long wavy dark hair, a hooked nose and skin so pale that he looked ill. They were all dressed in head to toe black.

  “You are Danu?” asked the thin man.

  I nodded.

  “I PJ. Zis is my team, Natalka and Oleksander. You may call zem Nat and Alex.”

  I must have looked confused because the team standing before me looked more like they worked in a funeral parlour than an interior design agency.

  “Ve’re your prize! Tadaaaah!” said PJ without a smile then he clapped his hands and ushered Nat and Alex inside. “Vy you iz staring at me?”

  “Oh sorry,” I said as I st
epped aside so they could come in. I hadn’t realized that I had been staring but there was something about PJ. Despite his nose and pale skin, he was incredibly handsome, like a romantic poet from another era. And he spoke with a foreign accent that I was trying to place. It sounded half Russian, half something else.

  He tossed a long velvet scarf over his shoulder and swanned in, walking up and down the corridor looking at the walls, the skirting boards, the floors.

  “So. Let’s see vot ve ’ave here,” he tutted as if he didn’t like what he saw.

  The name PJ rang a bell. “Hey. Do you know Joe Joeve?” I asked.

  PJ turned and nodded. “Everee-one knows Joe. Ve call him ze godfazer. My studio iz on ze same street as ’iz café. Best kebabees in the area.”

  “And are you one of his planet club?”

  “Planet club? Vot is this?”

  “You know, Jupiter, Venus…” I didn’t want to say too much in front of the others in case they thought I was mad plus I didn’t know how much Alex and Nat knew about the possibility of their boss being a planet in his spare time. Since the episode with Joe in the square, I was more open to it being a reality. I’d decided, why not? No-one really knew who anyone was or where we came from or where we go or what we’re even doing here on this planet so why shouldn’t some people in human form be manifestations of the planets?

  “Oh oui. Yeah, sure. C’est vrai. C’est moi.” He clapped his hands. “Some call me PJ, some call me Pluto. Pluto iz ze name, transformation iz ze game. So vere should ve start? Let’s do ze tour!”

  “Are you Russian?” I asked.

  He flicked his hair back. “Russian, Ukrainian, Plutonese. Votever. I prefer to think of myself as Universal.”

  Yep, he’s definitely one of them, I thought. He talks in the same riddles. I wonder what he can do and if he’s going to turn himself into anything peculiar like Joe did?

  But no. He was acting reasonably normally. He went from room to room up and down the corridor a few times hmming and tutting as Rosa, Sushila, his team and I followed.