I need to find Kady, because if she saw what I saw, she’s going to be crushed, distraught, devastated. She’s going to need me.
Where would I go if I was falling apart, on a day like this when every centimetre of the school grounds is packed with people? Inside the school. It’s out of bounds, except for the ground-floor toilets and the staff room, but Mrs Noble, who’s meant to be guarding the doors, is down on the field having a henna tattoo painted on to her arm. I slip unchallenged into the silent corridors.
I find Kady, at last, in the girls’ loos on the first floor, just next to our form room. The place seems empty enough, but one of the cubicle doors is closed, locked.
‘Kady?’ I call.
There’s a gasping, snuffling sound from the other side of the door. ‘Go away!’ a muffled voice says.
‘Kady?’ I repeat. ‘It’s me, Jess. Open up, please!’
There’s more snuffling, but finally the door swings open. Kady is inside, huddled on the floor, arms around her knees, face to the wall. Her back shudders and trembles as each new sob tears through her, and my heart melts. I kneel down beside her on the cold lino, put my arms around her.
‘It’s OK, Kady,’ I tell her. ‘It’s OK.’
And Kady turns and puts her head on my shoulder and cries and cries and cries until we’ve used up all the toilet tissue in the cubicle and used up all of Kady’s hurt, all of her anger, all of her grief. Then we creep out of the cubicle and she splashes her blotchy, swollen face with cold water and I blot it dry for her with a paper towel.
‘You were right,’ she whispers. ‘You were right about Jack. I suppose you’re going to say I told you so?’
‘No, I’m not,’ I tell her. ‘He had me fooled as well, remember?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ Kady says. ‘You liked him too.’
‘Mmm, I liked him too. But he wasn’t right for either of us. He wasn’t good enough for either of us.’
‘He’s gorgeous!’ Kady protests.
‘Dangerous,’ I remind her. ‘We thought we could handle it, but we got our fingers burnt.’
‘Too right,’ Kady says. ‘I thought he’d make me happy, but he didn’t. He went off with other girls, and said it didn’t mean anything. Well, it meant something to me!’
‘I know,’ I say, stroking her hair.
‘And he promised there was nothing going on with Lucie, but when I went backstage after the gig …’
‘I know,’ I repeat. ‘He’s not worth it. You’ll get over him, Kady.’
‘Will I?’
‘Definitely.’
She grins at me, all big brown eyes and tear-stained cheeks. ‘I’ve missed you, Jess. Seriously.’
‘I’ve missed you too.’
I fish the friendship bracelet out of my pocket and hold it out, and Kady laughs out loud, that big, unruly giggle I haven’t heard for so long.
‘I made you one too!’
We tie the bracelets on to each other’s wrists.
‘Jack kept saying nothing was forever,’ Kady says. ‘But this is, OK? Friends forever.’
‘Always,’ I promise. ‘And no boy is ever going to get in the way of that again.’
‘No chance,’ Kady says. ‘Not ever.’
Then she squints into the mirror, smooths down her braids and slicks a little eye-liner under each eye. ‘Good as new,’ she says. ‘C’mon!’
‘Where are we going?’
‘To show Jack Somers he can’t beat us!’ Kady laughs, and we run down the staircase and through the quiet corridors and out on to the festival field.
Miss Anderson and Mr Barrow are organizing the final event, one huge, endless friendship chain, stretching right around the playing fields.
‘Come on, girls!’ Miss Anderson shouts, and then Ellie runs out of the chain and grabs Kady’s hand, and Karl Williams leans forward and grabs mine, and Kady takes my other hand because nothing is going to separate us again, no way. The loudspeaker starts spouting out an ancient Beatles track, ‘All You Need Is Love’.
‘What is this drivel?’ Kady squeals. ‘My grandad plays this song!’
‘It’s cool,’ Karl argues, and nobody smirks or rolls their eyes or asks Karl how he would know what was cool and what wasn’t. Ellie and Karl pull us into the circle and the whole big chain of people starts moving round, slowly at first, then faster, like some crazy outsize hokey-cokey dance.
I catch sight of Jack and Lucie, and I try very hard to glare at them but I can’t, I’m laughing, and Jack’s laughing too, and I know there’s no point blaming him because he’s just a born flirt with an ego the size of a football pitch, like Karl said.
Lucie’s welcome to him.
‘This song is SO lame,’ Kady says. ‘Who needs love? Not me!’
But she’s wrong about that, because there’s more than one kind of love, and without it we just wouldn’t be here. It’s the glue that holds us all together.
‘Love’s OK,’ I tell her. ‘And peace …’
‘And chocolate!’ Kady makes as if to break the chain, but Ellie, Karl and I all screech at her not to, and she laughs and says she has M&M’s in her pocket and we can all have some later, if we’re good.
Then Miss Anderson runs into the middle of the circle and climbs on to a little makeshift stage, takes the mike. She thanks everybody for being here today, for making the festival such a success. She tells us that we’ve raised almost £6,000 for the charities we’re supporting, but, more than that, we’re making a difference, changing the way people think.
‘They still haven’t abolished maths homework, though,’ Kady sulks, and everyone tells her to shut up.
Then Miss Anderson jumps down from the stage and loosens the nets that are holding down huge clouds of white wish-balloons from earlier on. The balloons float up, up into the clear blue sky and out over the rooftops of the town, higher and higher, and we watch and cheer and wave, shading our eyes from the sun, until the very last one is lost from sight.
Love, Peace and Chocolate (Pocket Money Puffin) Page 5
