Brave New Girl

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Brave New Girl Page 2

by Catherine Johnson


  I started clearing away the sausage-roll mess. “She should be down here,” I said. “With us.”

  Mum turned the tap on for the washing-up. “Oh, leave her, Seren. Her and Fay have got grown-up stuff to deal with. You could always call Christina. She hasn’t been round for a bit, has she?”

  I changed the subject quickly. “Mum! I am grown-up too!” I said, putting a plate in the sink. “I’m 13. I read to Arthur, I do the dinner some days when you’re working late. I do the laundry too! Sasha’s supposed to do the ironing but she never does, she’s rubbish!”

  “I didn’t mean that, love,” Mum said. “‘Course I didn’t. In a lot of ways you’re about five years older than Sasha. You’re ten times better with the little ones, and you’re great at school.”

  I cringed, thinking about Miss Tunks.

  Mum squirted some washing-up liquid into the bowl and looked out into the back yard. “You’ve always been so helpful, love.”

  From upstairs there was the sudden blast of the RnB number one, so loud the window almost rattled in the frame.

  “Oh, go and tell them to turn it down, Seren,” Mum said. “How am I ever going to be able to read with that row going on?”

  Upstairs, in our bedroom, Fay and Sasha were trying on false eyelashes.

  “Mum says to turn it down,” I said, shouting over the music and sitting down on my bed.

  “What d’you reckon, Seren?” Sasha turned towards me and batted her new, improved ultra lashes.

  “I think she looks gorgeous!” Fay said, batting hers back. “No surprise Luke wanted your picture!”

  Sasha flushed pink.

  “Did he?” I said. “Luke Beckford?” I couldn’t help feeling excited for her.

  “No, Luke Backwards, who d’you think?” Sasha snapped. The look she gave me could have broken mirrors.

  I kept my mouth shut. I would have liked to ask Fay how Christina was doing, if she ever said anything about me. But I didn’t. In the old days Fay would have been here with Christina and it would have been all of us together having a laugh. They’d do my make-up and let me join in. Now Fay and Sasha talked to each other close and low so I couldn’t hear.

  I had promised myself, after what happened with Christina, that everything would change. That I wouldn’t let it get to me. That I’d come back to school for the spring term completely different: sorted, mature. If she didn’t want to be mates any more it would be her loss, not mine. Things were different all right, but I didn’t feel any more grown-up. I felt as if I was on the edge of everything, that I didn’t belong anywhere. Even in my own room.

  Maybe Mum was right, maybe it was just that they were older now, Sash and Fay. And it wasn’t the fake eyelashes, which I had to say didn’t look too mad once they’d got them on right. They’d be leaving school for good in a few months and it was a bit like they’d outgrown everything: school, me, and our tiny bedroom.

  I wanted to tell both of them about what I was planning, about how Sasha would get to go to the Prom with Luke if I had anything to do with it.

  I picked up a magazine, but there was nothing in it, and before I got to the worst-dressed pages Sasha said, “Seren?”

  “Mmm?” I kept looking at the magazine. I didn’t want to seem too desperate.

  “Me and Fay were wondering if you’d do us a favour?”

  I folded the magazine shut. I would have done anything.

  “Would you run over to your little mate’s shop and get us a Freddo each – you can get one yourself, but don’t tell the boys cos they’ll only want something too.”

  I felt my heart sink. Really sink, like the lift going all the way to the bottom level of the underground car park in Canary Wharf. This was not supposed to happen.

  It used to be us getting rid of the boys with promises of biscuits or something on the telly. Now they were getting rid of me. I smiled, even though I felt like I’d been hit by a netball right under the ribs. All the breath knocked out of me.

  They had the laptop open and were scrolling through some clothes website online. As far as they were concerned I had practically vanished. I didn’t count at all. They didn’t want chocolate, they just didn’t want me around.

  “Don’t call Keith my ‘little’ mate!”

  For a second Sasha looked really worried. “Oh, no! You haven’t fallen out with him too?”

  I rolled my eyes. “No.”

  “Tell you what, Ser, we’ll do your eyes when you come back, how about that, yeah?”

  Somehow that sounded worse. It was like she was only doing it to make me feel better, cos she felt bad. I went downstairs and slammed the front door. It was still warm and little kids were running around in the car park. There was a drink can in the gutter and I kicked it hard.

  One of the kids yelled at me. “Is Denny coming out?”

  “I don’t know!” I snapped, and he ran away as if I’d hit him.

  I took a deep breath. It was no use being angry, I knew that just made everything turn out even worse. I didn’t do that sort of thing any more.

  I just had to make it work with Luke and Sasha. Then maybe she’d think twice about ignoring me.

  It rained all day Saturday. Keith texted me in the morning to say it was too wet to go and look at locations so he’d be going to Youth Orchestra after all. I texted back ‘CHICKEN’.

  By the time Keith did come round, it was after tea and the boys were sitting in front of the telly, watching giant dinosaurs chasing people through time.

  Keith looked at me shiftily. “Can we talk?” It wasn’t like him at all.

  “Are you all right?” I said.

  “Keeeith!” Arthur said, and threw a cushion at him.

  “I’m singing in the Olympics, at the Opening Ceremony!” Denny said. The boys loved Keith. He was like an unofficial big brother.

  “Fantastic!” Keith said, throwing the cushion back, gently, at Arthur. “That is great, Den, but I need to talk to Seren. Upstairs.”

  “Ooo-oooh!” said Denny, and Arthur sang, “Keith’s your boyfriend!” over and over.

  “That is so lame, boys. If you want to wind me up you’ll have to try a lot harder,” I said, because it was so blatantly not true. And, may I add, it never has been and what’s more, the boys knew it too.

  “What is it?” I said, on the way up. “Has something happened?”

  “Is Sasha in?” He looked round the bedroom.

  “She’s not in the cupboard, Keith, honest,” I said. He was looking around, nervous. “She doesn’t finish work until seven.” Sasha did a Saturday job, waitressing in my dad’s restaurant in the afternoons.

  “Good.” Keith shut the door behind us. “I was at Youth Orchestra.”

  “I know,” I said. “I didn’t think you’d get out of it. You always say you’ll bunk off, but your problem is you’re just too good.”

  Keith pushed his glasses back up his nose. “I told you, it was the weather!”

  I smiled. “So, am I looking at your wonder script or not?”

  “It’s not a script exactly – not yet. Anyway, something came up. I heard them talking at Youth Orchestra.”

  “Them?” I made a face. “Go on.”

  “There were some girls from school, from Year Eleven, Danielle something and her mate with the short hair.”

  “Amy, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, Amy.” He nodded.

  “Well?”

  “I was just packing up, and I heard these girls talking... I don’t always hang around girls talking, that’s not my style at all.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Well, you’re not jamming with the boys going over the football scores.”

  “I do. Sometimes!” Keith sounded hurt. “I only listened because they were talking about your precious Luke!”

  “He’s not my Luke!” I was practically jumping up and down. “Spit it out, Keith!”

  “They said he was going out with Keisha Coates.”

  I let out a long breath and flopped back on the bed
. I wanted to laugh, I was so relieved. “Oh my days! That news is so old it’s probably carved in stone! Carved in stone on the side of a pyramid or something. Everyone knows they split up weeks ago! You had me worried there for a second, you really did.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am sure. I’m surer than sure,” I said. I looked at him. He seemed nervous. “What is it you’re worried about? Is it tomorrow? You don’t want us to even try, do you?”

  “No, it’s just…” He sighed. “Well, yes, all right, I am worried.” He took a deep breath. “I know you, Seren. It could all backfire. I’m worried you’ll be disappointed.”

  “So? I’ll be disappointed! At least I’ll have tried. At least, maybe, Sasha will see I’m not entirely useless. I mean, Keith, what’s the worst that can happen?”

  Keith said nothing. He opened his mouth and shut it again, more than once. I knew there was a chance things might not work out – Luke might be ill with some new kind of flu, Sasha might do one of her earth-shattering burps, thinking the shop was empty – but we had to try.

  “And if Luke Beckford did have a new girlfriend, I would be the second to know – maybe third, after Sasha and Fay. Believe! It’s all still on for tomorrow,” I said, trying to sound determined and in control. “So, now that’s settled, why don’t you tell me about your film?”

  Keith made a face that said ‘I’m still not convinced’. I made one back that said ‘that’s that’, and he fished about in his bag and brought out a notebook.

  “My film,” he said. And I knew it was important to him because he couldn’t quite look me in the eye.

  I told myself I would not tease him. If it was bad I would let him down gently, like Mum does with the boys when we’ve run out of cherry yoghurt.

  Keith started talking. “I had this idea, sort of based on the play we did in class in Year Seven – The Tempest – where this girl has grown up on an island and never seen the real world. Her dad is a magician, and a bit of a control freak to be honest, and there’s spirits and stuff and a shipwreck.”

  I remembered doing that play. “Why did Miss Tunks give that big part to Shazna? She was so bad! I had to be the fairy thing, the spirit, Ariel. Sanjay and Ed called me ‘TV’ for weeks. That was so not fair.”

  “Seren, will you let me finish? Shazna is not going to be in my film, OK? And like I said, it’s only based on The Tempest. And anyway, you being Ariel was the best thing about it.” He flicked through the red notebook while he talked.

  Keith thought I was good. I was good. Christina had said so at the time, even Miss Tunks.

  I listened and said nothing for ages while Keith talked me through it. Downstairs, I heard the front door slam. It was Sasha, come in from work.

  “I better go,” Keith said, getting up. “You read through it and let me know what you think. Add some notes, anywhere you want. You’ve always got good ideas, Seren. See you tomorrow.”

  “Will do.” I lowered my voice in case Sasha came up the stairs and I didn’t hear. “You reckon Luke’s in the shop for 11.30?”

  Keith nodded.

  “Then we’ll be there at 11.20.”

  “Shall we synchronise our watches?”

  “Do I look like James Bond?” I said.

  Keith shrugged. “Well maybe not Daniel Craig, but sometimes, if it’s a bit dark and you’re frowning, you could pass as one of the old, craggy ones…”

  “Keith!”

  He ran out of the room before I could hit him with a pillow.

  Keith’s story wasn’t bad at all. It wasn’t a whole story, more like notes and sketches, and some of his drawings even made me laugh. It was about this girl who’s lived all of her life on one estate, cut off from the world by a river and a motorway. It sounded a lot like where we lived. She was called Miranda, though, same as in the play. I liked that. Miranda. In Keith’s notebook it was about Miranda wanting to see the world and being trapped on an estate.

  There were spirits, but they weren’t people dressed up as ghosts, they were in the place, in the buildings and in the new Light Railway. Anyway, at the end, the world comes to the girl, in the Olympics. I did think it was good, but I thought he could make it better.

  I was still sitting on my bed reading Keith’s notebook when Sasha came in and changed out of her waitress’s white shirt and black trousers.

  “Your dad gave me an extra tenner this afternoon,” Sasha said. She stood in front of the cupboard and swished through the clothes on her half of the rail. “I couldn’t believe it, the place isn’t exactly heaving with customers and your dad is usually so tight.”

  “He is not!” I said. Someone had to defend him.

  Sasha shrugged. “Well, OK, he’s not tight exactly but his mum, your Nene, oh my days, what a nightmare!”

  I said nothing. I was not going to defend Nene. Nightmare was a totally fair description. Nene didn’t like any of us, especially not Mum or me. Mum had explained it wasn’t my fault, that Nene thought my dad had let himself down by falling in love with her.

  Sasha went on, “She usually has her beady eye on him. Doesn’t let any money out of her sight, that woman. I reckon something’s up. He gave me one for you too. He seemed kinda odd.”

  I looked up. Sasha was holding out a tenner. “For me?”

  Sasha nodded. “I know! It’s not like him at all. Maybe he’s ill. Anyway, this lovely tenner is going straight into my dress fund with my wages. I am going to have something so special for the end of term Prom...” She folded the money into her bank stuff and shut it in her drawer.

  “Odd?” I said, sitting up. “You said my dad looked odd. What d’you mean?”

  “Worried.” Sasha turned towards me. “More worried than normal, you get me? And tired.”

  Now I was worried. Last time I’d seen him he’d been talking to Nene in Turkish a lot. I don’t speak it at all, just hello, goodbye and counting to ten, but even so, I could tell there were problems.

  Nene never let him forget how stupid he was to spend all that money on doing the whole place out like the inside of a cave, a few years ago. I couldn’t bear it if they had to close. I knew how hard he’d worked.

  “Yeah, OK. I’ll get myself over there after school this week,” I said. On the table by my bed was the blue glass eye pendant he’d given me when I was born. For good luck, to watch over me. I picked it up and turned it over and over in my hand.

  “I hate that bloody thing!” Sasha said. She’d never liked it. “Can’t you put it away? It really creeps me out.”

  I shoved it in the drawer with my knickers. “So, Sash, are you going out?” I said. Silly question.

  “There’s a party at this youth club over in Clapton.”

  “You’re not staying over at Fay’s though?” I said. I needed her back here, reasonably early, not looking completely washed-out. “Are you, have you, I mean you’re not, you’re not going out with someone, anyone… yet?”

  “What are you on about?” Sasha looked at me as if I was more than one kind of nuts.

  “You and Luke?”

  Sasha flushed. “No! Anyway, it’s none of your business.” She turned away. It was like her face had one of those noisy metal shutters and it had just clanged down.

  “Oh. Right. Sorry, Sash.” I took a deep breath. “Are you busy, maybe? Tomorrow?”

  Sasha looked at me. “Why?”

  I had my reasons and everything rehearsed, and now I’d been reading Keith’s stupid notebook all my thoughts had dribbled out of my head into thin air. “Tomorrow morning! Not too early, don’t worry! It’s a surprise. A surprise, that’s it!”

  “Well, keep your hair on, Seren. Maybe. I’ll see.” I knew that was a yes. Sasha turned back to the cupboard. “Have you seen my blue top? You haven’t gone and borrowed it, have you?”

  I had seen it. It was her favourite and she looked great in it. But I hadn’t borrowed it. Not the way she meant, anyway.

  “No.” I flicked through Keith’s notebook. “You know I can
’t wear your clothes.” I gave her a wounded kind of look. Even though Sasha was older than me she was tiny and curvy and I was tall and straight-up-and-down. “Maybe it’s in the wash,” I said.

  I really was getting better at lying. But she’d need to wear it tomorrow.

  Sasha did a big, dramatic sigh and I felt a tiny bit guilty. But it was for a good cause. I looked at the clock. I was so excited I would spill if I wasn’t careful. This time tomorrow Sasha would be walking on air, and she’d have me to thank.

  3

  IN THE PARADISE INTERNATIONAL FOOD AND WINE SUPERMARKET

  I woke up thinking about Keith’s shop. It was the biggest shop on the estate, bigger than the betting shop next door, with three aisles crammed with all sorts of stuff. If you wanted anything else (and Keith’s shop did sell everything), you’d have to go to the brand-new, all-night express supermarket. They were building it on the road that would – once it had opened – lead on to the Olympic park. I’d told Keith’s mum loads that even when it did open they should be all right, because no Tesco I’d ever seen sold crispy pork, or White Rabbit Chinese sweets.

  I looked at the clock on the dressing table. It was only nine o’clock and my stomach was turning over and over like one of those gymnasts with sticky-out bunches that wins gold medals.

  In her bed across the room, Sasha was still asleep. She made a whiffly noise and turned over as if she could hear me thinking, which, I told myself, was rubbish.

  This will work, I said out loud but very quietly. Sasha would be thrilled, Fay would be awestruck and she would tell Christina and maybe things would change at school. Me and Keith might even get to be cool. Fingers crossed.

  Under the pillow, my phone alarm went off on vibrate. I turned it off and flicked through my inbox. The last text I’d had was from Keith, yesterday morning. I scrolled down my contacts and before I let myself get really depressed at the shortness of the list I turned it off and sat up. I wasn’t going to do that any more. I was someone new. My brother was singing at the Olympics, Sasha was about to have the best Leaving Prom ever, and Keith and me were going to make a brilliant film. Life was good.

 

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