‘Now enough of that, Nesta,’ said Mum. ‘Haven’t you ever heard the expression “charity begins at home” and you having a go at your brother isn’t very charitable.’
Tony stuck his tongue out at me from behind Mum’s back so I made a rude hand sign back at him.
‘And that certainly isn’t very nice,’ said Mum.
‘But he started it. . .’
‘Oh for heaven’s sake, both of you, grow up.’
‘I was only trying to do something good,’ I said, ‘and it’s taken me ages to get all this bagged up.’
‘Too bad,’ said Mum. ‘There are some almost new things in these bags and you’re not giving them away until we’ve been through it all together so that I can see what you want to get rid of. Now, tidy up this mess before your dad gets home and take all these bags back to your room.’
Tony made a smug face at me and luckily this time Mum saw him.
‘And you can help her, Tony.’
‘But . . .’ he started.
‘NOW!’ said Mum.
At supper that night, I tried out my next good idea to help the poor by suggesting to my family that we cut down on our grocery bills and donate money spent on unnecessary items and treats to charity. It didn’t go down too well.
‘Get lost, Nesta. If you want to go without then you can, but don’t bring in the rest of us,’ said Tony.
‘Yeah, but I read that five pounds could feed a child for a whole month in some countries.’
Tony rolled his eyes and helped himself to some ice cream.
‘Like that ice cream,’ I said. ‘Do you really need it?’
‘Muuuum,’ groaned Tony. ‘Tell her to get off my case will you?’
‘Nesta,’ Mum started. ‘Don’t you think you’re being a little excessive?’
‘A little excessive?’ said Tony. ‘Understatement!’
‘Go on then stuff your face. Go on. Ignore all the millions of starving people . . .’
Tony got up from the table and went to the door taking the ice cream with him. ‘I’m not sitting here listening to this . . .’
‘Why? The truth makes you uncomfortable does it?’
‘Nesta, lose the Mother Teresa routine or go and live somewhere else,’ said Tony. ‘Get real. First, you go on at me about not giving all my stuff away and now I can’t eat in peace. Trying to make me feel bad, telling me what everything cost and what could be done with the money. What do you want me to do? Starve? Then will you be happy?’
‘No. Not starve, but maybe we don’t need to consume as much as we do. We’re a society of consumers. That’s why there’s the imbalance . . .’
Tony sighed heavily. ‘What is with you? Up until last week you were Queen of the Consumers and proud of it. In fact if I remember rightly, your motto was “when the going gets tough, the tough go shopping”. You weren’t exactly thinking of the poor and hungry when you bought those silver snakeskin heels or that little top from Morgan were you? And now, just because some boy you fancy collects for charity, you think you have to do the same, no doubt so that you can impress him next time you see him.’
‘That is soooo not true. And I don’t fancy him!’
‘Who?’
‘William Lewis.’
‘Ah,’ smirked Tony, ‘but you knew exactly who I was talking about, didn’t you?’
Mum and Dad didn’t say anything. They just looked at each other and Mum raised an eyebrow.
Sometimes I hate Tony. Now Mum and Dad think I’m only worried about the state of the world because of some boy. Like I don’t have a mind of my own.
‘Are you going to finish that?’ asked Mum, looking at the bowl of ice cream she’d put out for me.
I dipped my spoon in. Butter pecan. It did taste good. And it wasn’t exactly as though I could put a tub of ice cream in an envelope and post it to a poor country. Maybe I’ll have to think of another way of donating money, I thought as I finished the bowl. It didn’t seem that it was going to come out of the housekeeping.
After school the next day, I took the one bag of stuff that Mum was allowing me to give away up to Muswell Hill. It was a lovely evening and after all the rain and chilly winds we’d had recently, at last I could feel spring in the air. I stood by the zebra crossing and wondered which charity shop to give it to: the one for cats, for cancer, for old people or for the hungry in Africa? Oh God. It’s impossible to make a decision like that. I put my bag on the pavement and tried to make up my mind which was going to be my charity.
Maybe I could persuade Izzie, Lucy and TJ to give some of their old things away too, then we could divide our stuff between them. Yes, that would solve the problem and nobody would get left out. I popped into Sainsbury’s and asked if I could have a couple of carrier bags, then sat on the kerb and sorted my things into two bags.
Unfortunately a group of lads passed by as I was dividing my stuff up.
‘You look kind of young to be a bag lady,’ one of them called over. ‘Come with us and we’ll give you a good meal and somewhere warm to sleep!’
‘Yes. We’ve got a big fat sausage and a bed for you,’ called another as his mates sniggered behind him.
Sad, I thought as I ignored them and continued dividing my clothes up. Some boys really don’t have a clue. As if I’m going to respond to a chat-up line as stupid as that. We’ve got a big fat sausage for you? Duh. How pathetic can you get?
When I’d finished sorting, I took one of the bags to the nearest charity shop and gave it to the lady behind the counter.
She gave me a really sweet smile. ‘Thanks so much dear,’ she said. ‘We do appreciate it.’
I left feeling really good and walked out to the Broadway where there were the usual posse of collectors hovering outside the shops by the zebra crossing. I found my purse and instead of trying to avoid eye contact as I usually do, I walked up to them and gave them some spare change. Outside Ryman’s, I gave fifty pence to a man who was collecting for the disabled. And by Marks and Spencer, I put the last of my change into a homeless man’s cap. By the time I had reached the bank at the roundabout where I was meeting Izzie, TJ and Lucy, I was beginning to feel positively saintly as everyone I gave money to beamed at me as though I was the only person who had donated anything that day.
‘Hey guys,’ I said to the girls who were already waiting for me.
‘Why are you carrying your charity shop stuff?’ asked TJ. ‘I thought you were up here giving it away.’
‘I gave half of it away,’ I explained then quickly asked if they would have a clear out too so that all the shops would get something.
‘Yeah, that’s a good idea,’ said Izzie. ‘Plus all the books on Feng Shui say that it’s really good to clear out any clutter.’
‘But you have to decide where to take it,’ I said.
‘All of them need stuff,’ said Lucy.
‘Yeah. And that’s the problem,’ I said. ‘I need to decide which is my charily. And seeing as I intend to be a celebrity when I grow up, it’s probably a good idea to decide it now . . .’
‘Why’s that?’ asked Lucy. ‘What’s being a celebrity got to do with it?’
‘Obvious,’ I said. ‘You must have seen celebs when they’re on TV raising money. It’s never a general thing, like, “Oh just give the money to whoever needs it.” Oh no, they all seem to have a particular cause in mind.’
‘Like Bob Geldof with Band Aid,’ said TJ. ‘That was after he saw a programme about the plight of Ethiopia.’
‘Yeah, that was brilliant,’ said Izzie and put her hand on her heart. ‘Sir Bob. Respect.’
‘Yeah. See. He knew what his cause was. And maybe that’s part of growing up,’ I said. ‘Part of discovering who you are. Just as you are identified by the car you drive, the clothes you wear, the drink you drink, you ought to have your own personal charity as well.’
‘There’s an article about Star Axford in my last Vogue,’ said Lucy.
‘God, I love her,’ said Izzie. ‘She’s so b
eautiful. And so glamorous. And her dad is Zac Axford.’
‘Who’s he?’ I asked.
‘Zac Axford? Big rock and roller. He was huge in the Eighties. My dad has all his old albums. The family are mega loaded. They always appear on those England’s richest people lists that are sometimes in magazines. Star’s mum was a model too. The whole family sounds fab!’
‘So what has this got to do with charity?’ I asked.
‘Apparently Star gives away ten percent of her earnings to charities,’ said Lucy.
‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘See, all the cool celebs do it.’
Izzie rolled her eyes. ‘But you make it sound like having the right handbag or trainers,’ she said. ‘Like a designer charity. The latest accessory to make you look good.’
As usual my good intentions are being taken the wrong way, I thought.
‘No. I didn’t mean it like that,’ I objected. ‘Just I want to . . . oh never mind. I just think it’s brilliant giving to charity. Makes you feel good.’
‘So does a muffin and a hot chocolate,’ said Lucy ‘Let’s go to Costa. I’m starving.’
‘Yeah,’ chorused Izzie and TJ.
‘Oh . . . but I’ve no money left,’ I said as I realised that I’d given all my pocket money away.
Izzie nudged Lucy. ‘Looks like we have our own charity case here. Don’t worry. We’ll pay for you.’
‘You don’t need to do that,’ I said.
‘Why? Too proud to accept our donation?’ teased Lucy. ‘As you said, it’s great to give and sometimes being on the receiving end can be hard. Humbling.’
‘Yes, but no, but . . .?’
‘Yeah,’ said TJ. ‘We can’t have something and let you just sit there and watch. No, come on, we’ll club together.’
‘No, I meant you don’t need to do that, because maybe you should give the money for the hot chocolate to charity like I did,’ I said. ‘You don’t really need it and the few pounds you’d spend in the café, you could give to a good cause.’
TJ, Lucy and Izzie looked at each other and then at me.
‘Oh hell.’ Lucy sighed. ‘I’m confused now. I feel bad. I do want a hot chocolate. I was looking forward to it but I also think I ought to give my money away like you did, Nesta and I’ll feel like I’m selfish or something if I don’t. Oh stinkbombs . . . Why did you have to go and bring all this up? It’s made things really complicated.’
‘I know what you mean,’ said TJ. ‘Now I feel like I’m a bad person too. I feel rotten because I don’t want to give my pocket money away. I don’t get much and to tell the truth, if I gave what I do have away, I’d only be doing it because now I feel guilty and I don’t want you to think badly of me.’
‘Hhm,’ said Izzie. ‘Something’s weird about this. The vibe isn’t right any more and I’m with TJ, Nesta, I feel guilty too. We all do, so we wouldn’t be able to enjoy getting a hot chocolate any more. You know what, guys? Suddenly I don’t feel like hanging out. I think I’ll go home. Think about it. See you all later.’ And off she went towards the bus stop.
‘Me too,’ said TJ. ‘I think I’ll go and take Mojo for a walk.’ And she went to join Izzie.
I turned to look at Lucy who shifted about on her feet and stared at the pavement.
‘Me too,’ said Lucy. ‘Sorry, Nesta. Dunno why, but suddenly I feel really depressed.’ She dug her hand into her jeans pocket and handed me two pounds. ‘Here. That’s all I have. Give it to whatever cause you want. Catch you later.’
Off she went, and I could tell by the way she hunched her shoulders as she walked away that she was fed up.
And so I was left standing on my own and the rosy glow I’d experienced earlier had completely disappeared. I give up, I thought. Do nothing and everyone thinks I don’t care. Do what I can and everyone gets depressed and hates me. I can’t win. I don’t know how Sir Bob Geldof did it when he got all those pop stars to give their time and money. He must have been very persuasive or put it differently as I’m sure no one had a go at him for making them feel guilty. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go and have a cappuccino. Oops. Can’t. No pocket money left and it would be wrong to use Lucy’s money. As I watched Izzie and TJ get on the bus that would take them towards Finchley, I felt totally confused. Trying to do good is clearly not as easy as it first appears, I thought as I walked back up the Broadway and gave Lucy’s coins to the man collecting for the disabled. He beamed a thank you back at me but this time, it didn’t make me feel so good.
£5 a month will help two children at a school in Ethiopia complete their education.
£10 can pay for three text books for school children in Zambia.
£20 can feed three children who have lost their parents to AIDS in Malawi for a month.
£50 can pay a trainee teacher’s salary in Kenya for a month.
Lucy called a couple of hours after I got home.
‘Is that Saint Nesta?’ she asked when I picked up the phone. ‘Feeder of the hungry, healer of the sick, benefactor of the poor?’
Phew, I thought. She can’t be that mad at me if she’s making jokes.
‘It is,’ I said. ‘And pray, what dost thou want, oh sinner?’
‘I may have the solution.’
‘Solution to what?’
‘Your sudden need to get involved in charity. I was telling Mum and Dad about what happened in Muswell Hill and Dad had an idea. You know his shop is next door to one of the charity shops?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Well, he says that they’re often looking for volunteers there. Mrs Owen, the lady that runs it, was looking for people to help tomorrow as she’s been let down by a couple of her usuals.’
‘Tomorrow? Wow. That would be cool. Working in a shop.’
‘No. Not working in the shop. You’re not old enough to work out the front. She wants people in the back to sort through the donations for a jumble sale in Kilburn on Sunday. She said that they’re desperate for people to go through the bags and see what’s there, what’s to be chucked and what can go to jumble.’
‘I could do that,’ I said. ‘You do mean tomorrow?’
‘Yeah.’
‘All day?’
‘Yeah. Until four. I was telling Mum and Dad about you wanting to do something and giving away your pocket money and they both said that at our age, we’re probably better off giving our time and energy. What shall I tell Dad, so he can let Mrs Owen know?’
‘That I’ll be there,’ I said. ‘What time?’
‘Nine-thirty.’
‘Right.’ Nine-thirty on a Saturday. Bummer. I’d have to get up early but I’d do it. Lucy’s parents were right. Using my time did seem like a better idea than giving away all my pocket money and losing my friends over it.
‘And Nesta . . .’
‘Yeah?’
‘I’ll do it with you, because even though you were an almighty pain before, laying such a guilt trip on us all, I would actually like to do something as well.’
‘Top. It will be a laugh.’
‘And Izzie wants to come too.’
‘Izzie? Is she still mad with me?’
‘Nah,’ said Lucy. ‘She looked up your horoscope. Some planet’s square with another one or something. You’ll have to ask her but she said the stars explained why you’ve been a bit over the top lately.’
‘Good. Thank you stars. I hate it when you’re all cross with me. How’s TJ?’ I asked. I knew that they’d all have been texting or e-mailing about me behind my back.
‘TJ has footie practice in the afternoon and has to work on the school mag with Emma in the morning. But she’s cool about you, although she said she did still feel a bit confused and not sure what’s she’s supposed to do to help the world. Said she’s going to think about it, and on the one hand, she feels guilty that she has so much, like a home and a bed and food and clothes, but on the other hand, really glad she does. I guess we all have to find our way round this – although my mum came out with one of her quotes that kind of made sense
.’
‘What was that?’ I asked. Lucy’s mum works as a counsellor and collects great quotes and sayings that she can use in her work to make a point or cheer someone up. Some of them are really inspiring.
‘I was telling her that in the face of all the trouble in the world I feel helpless. Like I’m too small to do anything and I don’t mean my height.’
‘Yeah. I know what you mean. It’s like, where do you start?’
‘Anyway,’ Lucy continued. ‘Mum said that there’s a saying that goes something like, anyone who thinks that they’re too small to make a difference should try sharing a bed with a mosquito.’
‘Hah right! Cool. Yeah. Let’s bzzz, baby.’
Lucy, Izzie and I were at the charity shop on the dot of nine-thirty the next day. A little old lady with white hair who was wearing bright pink lipstick let us in and introduced herself as Mrs Owen. She led us through to the back where there was a small room, stuffed wall to wall and floor to ceiling with black bin bags.
‘Some of this has been here for months without anyone looking at it,’ she said as she indicated the bags. ‘We haven’t enough volunteers, so it’s just been left. Anyway, see what you can find. Put it into piles of books, games, toys, bric-à-brac and clothes and so on, then box them. Someone’s coming to collect some of it later on. Keep the really good or designer clothes for the shop, medium good clothes for the jumble, and the rubbish can be chucked out.’
‘Right, will do,’ said Izzie.
‘And one of you can make some tea for the shop workers,’ said Mrs Owen. ‘Doris and Lilian will be in shortly.’
‘Is it possible to open a window somewhere?’ I asked. ‘It’s very hot in here.’ I had put a fleece on when I got dressed as it was chilly then, but already the day was warming up. I hadn’t thought to wear anything underneath so that I could strip off later. Of course, Izzie and Lucy both had brains and had thin crop tops on underneath their jackets.
‘Sorry, love,’ said Mrs Owen. ‘It’s because of the boiler next door and it’s always on for the water. It does tend to heat up in here and there’s no window or door to let any air in. Nothing we can do, I’m afraid. See if you can find an old T-shirt you can put on in one of the bags. In fact, you don’t want to ruin your nice jeans either so if you find an old pair of trousers or shorts, just slip them on as well.’
Mates, Dates and Diamond Destiny Page 4
