Girl, 15: Charming But Insane

by Sue Limb

  Her mum knocked on her door half an hour later.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t believe you about the DVD, darling,’ she said, and gave Jess a hug. ‘I’m a little bit stressed out today. Anyway, Granny’s going to bed now – can you just pop down and kiss her goodnight?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Jess. She ran downstairs and kissed Granny, who was sitting up in bed in what had once been Jess’s room. It didn’t seem anything like it used to be. Even the bed was in a different place.

  ‘Jess,’ whispered Granny, ‘would you mind bringing Grandpa in here with me? I don’t like to be separated from him, in case I go in my sleep.’ She winked roguishly. For somebody who thought about death all the time, Granny was amazingly cheerful.

  Jess brought the urn in from the kitchen windowsill and placed it on Granny’s bedside table.

  ‘I’m going to throw him into the sea one day, if I’m spared, dear,’ confided Granny. ‘But if I go before I get round to it, will you promise to do it for me? It’s a little place down in Cornwall, where we spent our honeymoon. It’s called Mousehole.’

  Jess promised, though of course she reassured Granny that she looked exceptionally healthy and would certainly live till she was a hundred.

  ‘I don’t want your mum to have custody of Grandpa,’ explained Granny conspiratorially. ‘She would probably just chuck him on her carrot patch.’

  Jess assured Granny that she would prevent her mother from top-dressing the vegetable plot with the remains of either grandparent, and eventually managed to get away. She ran upstairs to get the DVD.

  ‘Jess!’ called her mum as she passed the door of the box room. ‘I’m absolutely shattered, I’m going to bed early. Will you make sure all the lights are out when you go to bed, love? But leave the one on in the hall downstairs, in case Granny wants to go to the loo in the night.’

  Jess nodded, kissed her mum, and then went back downstairs to see the rest of the footage. She fast-forwarded through the boring bits, but she saw some things that surprised her. Two girls came in together, for a start. Shona Miles and Lily Thornton. Shona did her hair while Lily went to the loo. Fancy having a pee while somebody else was in the room! Jess knew that Shona and Lily were inseparable buddies, but she would never, ever, ever have peed in front of Flora. She had heard that in India people just peed and pooed in the street. Well, she was never going to do that. She didn’t even like having paintings of people in the loo. Their eyes always followed you around the room, with a kind of mocking look.

  Anyway, Lily and Shona were soon off the screen, and somebody else charged in and disappeared off the screen on the other side. It was Donna Fielding, evidently desperate for the loo. She didn’t wash her hands when she’d finished, either.

  ‘Disgusting!’ cried Jess. She would certainly never have lunch at Donna’s ever again.

  After Donna, Jodie Gordon came in, and embarked on a massive spot-squeezing exercise that went on and on and on – her chin, her brow, her shoulders, even the tops of her boobs. Jess watched in fascinated horror. Eventually Jodie finished, pulled a face at the mirror, said something, sneered at her reflection and left.

  It was getting late and, fascinating though all this was, Jess had become impatient for her own performance. She fast-forwarded through the footage until the awful moment when she herself appeared. Jess recognised her own image with a gasp of horror. But she ran across the screen and disappeared on the side where the loo was. The removing of the bra inserts and throwing them down the loo was completely out of view.

  She came over to the washbasin and pulled off her top. The washing of her boobs was certainly the high point of the tape so far, but it didn’t last long – she soon turned her back, dried herself, and got dressed again. And though you could see her lips move, there was no soundtrack, so nobody would know her terrible secret – that she talked to her boobs, and called them Bonnie and Clyde.

  Jess ejected the disc, and went into the kitchen. She could hear Granny snoring faintly in her room. There was no sound from her mum upstairs. Jess wondered how to destroy the DVD. She filled the washing-up bowl with water and immersed the disc in it. Then she took it out, put it on the floor, and stamped on it. Then she picked up the shattered, dripping remnants and stuffed them in the rubbish bin.

  Lying in bed later, she felt that it hadn’t been as bad as she’d feared. Nobody would know about the minestrone. Nobody would know about Bonnie and Clyde. True, she had appeared topless. But she’d rather be seen topless than squeezing her spots like Jodie.

  And there was something strangely reassuring about her appearance. Bonnie and Clyde weren’t nearly as tiny as she had thought. OK, she was never going to be famous for a massive bust. She was always going to be able to see her feet and get through turnstiles. There was no danger of her knocking priceless china ornaments off a shelf just by turning round. But Bonnie and Clyde were, well, adequate. And though Jack, and possibly some of his mates, had seen the footage, she didn’t care, because they were older and she didn’t really know them. The main thing was Ben Jones hadn’t seen it. Or Mackenzie.

  As for Fred, well, he’d said he hadn’t watched it. He’d said he’d rather watch wildlife documentaries. Was that true? You could never tell, with Fred. Jess wasn’t sure if she’d mind if Fred had seen it or not. One thing was certain: he had performed a heroic act in getting the disc to her. She owed him one. But she wasn’t exactly sure one what.

  Chapter 14

  ‘Whoever nicked that DVD is a totally brainless idiot,’ Mackenzie said.

  He and Ben and Flora and Jess were sitting on the wall outside the science block at break. They were still talking about the CCTV. But now, at last, Jess was OK about it, because she knew it would never be found. She had got a guardian angel, and his name was Fred Parsons. An unexpected name for an angel, but life was like that.

  ‘Jack said that tape was dynamite. Ace. Wicked. We could’ve cashed in, big time,’ said Mackenzie.

  ‘Speaking as one of the so-called stars of this rather sordid little charade,’ snapped Jess, ‘I’d be grateful to anyone who was idiot enough to destroy it.’

  ‘No need to be so touchy,’ said Flora. She didn’t like it when Jess snapped at Mackenzie. ‘It’s only a bit of fun.’

  ‘You wouldn’t think it was only a bit of fun if you’d been in that bathroom, doing private stuff on camera!’ Jess turned on Flora.

  Flora frowned, looked away and sighed, as if Jess was being tiresome and childish. Jess scowled and glared at the horizon, because Flora definitely was being tiresome and childish, as well as being on the side of the boys, which was the worst betrayal of all. Ben Jones looked admiringly at his trainers. He hadn’t spoken for ten minutes. Yes, they were a happy little foursome.

  Suddenly Ben turned to Mackenzie. ‘Um, what extras are there on your dad’s new PC?’ he said.

  Mackenzie looked relieved. They plunged into a geeky discussion about computers.

  Typical! thought Jess. Can’t cope with emotion.

  ‘Strange how males like to escape into technology,’ observed Jess. ‘The only one I know who doesn’t is Fred.’

  Although her own dad hadn’t a clue about technology either, and when his car once broke down he had begged and pleaded with it to start again instead of masterfully plunging into the engine and redwonking the piston flagelongas. ‘Please, please, Ada, I beg you! Be a good girl and start for me and I’ll give you a lovely new can of oil for your supper tonight!’ he had said. Then, when Ada had refused to start, he had shouted, ‘You traitor! We’re finished!’ And got out and kicked the car’s side. Jess realised, however, that her dad was a bit unusual in this respect. He was, after all, an artist.

  ‘You have to admit Fred is a bit weird,’ said Flora.

  ‘Weird?’ snapped Jess. ‘What’s weird about him? Original and brilliant, possibly, and if that’s your idea of weird – well, stick with mediocrity if it makes you feel more at home.’

  Flora frowned. She wasn’t fiery-tempered
like Jess. But she always argued like a dog with a bone, gnawing away stubbornly and never letting go.

  ‘Well, he is a bit of a loner, isn’t he? And the way he talks – like he thinks he’s Mr Darcy or something. And you’re always trying to copy him.’

  ‘I do NOT try and copy him!’ exploded Jess. Ben and Mackenzie twitched nervously.

  ‘Do you rate Goth War Final Destruct?’ enquired Mackenzie. They were on to computer games now.

  Ben thought for a minute. ‘Yeah, but not in the same league as, well, um – Black Lords Search and Destroy.’

  ‘Well, since most boys seem to prefer talking like robots,’ observed Jess icily, ‘somebody who talks like Mr Darcy ought to be given a medal, not treated as a fool.’ She got up off the wall and walked away, seething.

  She hated the way Flora always seemed to take sides with the boys. Filming girls in the bathroom wasn’t a bit of fun; it was an invasion of their privacy. But it was all right for Flora – she’d escaped unscathed, as usual. Protected by the guardian angel who seemed to watch over all blonde high-achievers with perfect rich families, Flora had miraculously not wanted to pee.

  All through French, Jess brooded. She sat on the other side of the room from Flora, and at change of lessons ignored her and walked quickly away. In her head, she rehearsed a scene in which Miss Jessica Jordan drew up in her coach outside a muddy hovel. She wound the window down – or whatever you did with coach windows – and peered contemptuously out.

  Miss Flora appeared at the door of the hovel, her head hanging in shame, her clothes in rags.

  ‘Forgive me, dear Miss Jordan!’ she cried, and threw herself to the ground. ‘I was mistaken. Sir Frederick is a man of exemplary character. I was misled by the attentions of other gentlemen. Forgive me, I pray!’

  ‘Do not humiliate yourself so much,’ observed Miss Jessica Jordan crisply. ‘It is not becoming. Here is a sovereign. Pray go to the baths to repair your appearance, and buy yourself a modest gown of grey wool. Antoine – drive on!’

  She tossed the coin on to the ground. Miss Jordan’s coach bowled off into the distance, whilst Miss Flora scrabbled in the cloud of dust for the sovereign.

  Geography was particularly dull. They were studying the coalfields of Pittsburgh. This just added to Jess’s bad temper. Why, with the whole glorious world at their disposal, did geography teachers always choose coalfields and marshes to talk about? Why didn’t they talk about rainforests full of monkeys or South Sea islands, with strips of dazzling sand and coconut palms? Jess was supposed to be making a list of coalfields in North America – an activity so dull as to be a non-chemical alternative to sleeping pills. Instead she made a list of reasons why she hated Flora. It went like this:

  1. Great beauty and no fatty bits: slim and yet large boobs (unfair!)

  2. Great wealth

  3. Great intelligence: straight As in every subject

  4. Mother also tactlessly beautiful: has probably had a facelift

  5. Parents not divorced, but appear to be happily married (aliens possibly?!)

  6. Father rich and masterful. Would never shout at his car, and it’s a Mercedes

  7. Their car would never break down (see above)

  8. Several bathrooms, all with gold taps

  9. Have to take shoes off in her house as if it’s a mosque

  10. Boys all look at her and drool like very large dogs looking at a bone

  At this point Mr Chapman unexpectedly asked Jess to read out her list of coalfields.

  After detention, Jess walked out of school with the deepest of depressions draped over her shoulders like a coat of lead. But there, waiting for her, were Flora and Jodie Gordon, spot queen of the CCTV footage.

  ‘Jess!’ cried Flora. ‘I’m so so sorry! I was so horrible! I so hate it when we have a row! I’ve got you a chocolate bar and some Pepsi and I’m gonna give you my stripy top – the one you like in black and gold. Please forgive me!’

  OK, she wasn’t actually grovelling in the dust, in rags, but it was a handsome apology. And Jess was starving.

  They hugged each other and got stuck into the chocolate. Jodie had some mini eclairs, so it was a real choc fest.

  ‘I was caught on that film as well,’ Jodie said. ‘I’ve just been telling Flora. I went in there and squeezed my spots for hours. If they’d showed it to everybody I’d have died! Boys are just pigs and we should never split up because of them!’

  ‘Yeah, boys are the enemy!’ agreed Flora.

  Jess thought of all the good times she and Flora had had since they first met years ago. Jodie was right. It was crazy for girls’ friendships to be ruined by mere beings from Mars – aliens.

  They walked off arm in arm, all three of them. There’s nothing like chocolate for cheering you up.

  ‘Boys are animals,’ said Jodie. Her mother was a feminist, too.

  ‘Yeah,’ agreed Jess. ‘For a start, Carter is an elephant. Although that is rather unkind to elephants. And Whizzer is a gorilla – although he lacks the gorilla’s high I.Q.’

  ‘What about Ben Jones?’ said Flora teasingly.

  Jess gritted her teeth. ‘He reminds me of a certain kind of camel,’ she said fearlessly. ‘And as for Mackenzie, he’s one of those bushbaby things that comes out at night. With very endearing faces and curly fur, but a horrid ferocious bite.’

  Flora looked relieved. It seemed her sweetheart had got off lightly.

  ‘And what about Jack?’ asked Jodie.

  Jess thought about Tiffany’s brother, he who had had the idea of setting up the bathroom camera in the first place.

  ‘He’s a vile loathsome poisonous tarantula spider,’ said Jess. ‘He even has black hairy legs – I saw them last summer at the pool. It appeared he had only two, but I bet the other six were folded away in his swimming shorts.’

  ‘And what about Mr Chapman?’

  ‘Mr Chapman is a donkey.’ The geography teacher did indeed have grey hair, a worn-out expression and a very loud and bizarre laugh.

  ‘And what about my dad?’ asked Flora.

  Jess took care over this one. ‘Your dad is the king of the beasts,’ said Jess diplomatically. ‘The lion, of course.’

  ‘And what about your dad?’ asked Flora.

  Jess thought fondly of her male parent: his nervousness, his long thin legs, his startled look, his fondness for fish. ‘My dad’s a heron.’

  ‘And what about Fred?’ asked Jodie.

  Jess thought about Fred: his strange solitary behaviour, his wisdom, his addiction to violent films.

  ‘Fred’s an owl,’ she said. ‘I can just see him tearing the heads off rats every night. In fact, for all we know, that’s precisely how he spends his leisure hours.’

  Jess and Flora said goodbye to Jodie and then trudged on, finishing the chocolate. Minutes after getting back from school, Jess was curled up on her sofa with Flora, watching MTV and eating pizza. This was the life!

  ‘I’m so glad we’re friends again, Jess. I just couldn’t cope without you,’ said Flora. ‘And it’s so great that Ben and you are getting it together.’

  ‘We aren’t,’ said Jess.

  ‘But he asked you to have coffee at the cafe!’ insisted Flora. ‘And the burger bar! And you two came to the CCTV party together.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean anything,’ said Jess. ‘I think he just hangs around with me because Mackenzie’s always busy with you these days.’

  ‘Oh no!’ said Flora. ‘He’s crazy about you, anyone can see that. He’s just a bit shy. All he needs is the right moment. He’s probably a bit self-conscious about making a move in public. I bet he’s waiting till he gets you on your own, without other people in your face all the time.’

  Jess wondered if this were true. She certainly hoped so. That night in bed, Jess enjoyed a delicious fantasy in which Ben Jones hired a balloon and floated away with her over the countryside in perfect, total peace and privacy. She hoped God wouldn’t mind. Although now she knew that it was Fred who had
rescued her, she had gone back to being a bit uncertain about whether or not she believed in God. One thing was for sure – she certainly believed in Fred. He was her guardian angel. Or something. Bless his long straggly locks!

  Chapter 15

  A few days later, Fred sidled up to Jess after English. The room was empty, as Mr Fothergill had lumbered off to perform some gross act in the privacy of the staffroom, possibly involving the tea urn and powdered milk. The rest of the class had similarly evaporated at speed. Flora and Mackenzie had rushed off together to find a private place in which to admire each other’s earlobes and eyelashes. Ben had gone off to a football practice. Only Jess was left, because she still hadn’t quite finished her essay about dark moments in Twelfth Night. ‘Although Twelfth Night is a comedy,’ Mr Fothergill had announced, ‘it does have its dark moments. Rather like life. Ha ha!’

  ‘Er … any chance you can do me a favour?’ said Fred.

  ‘A favour?’ cried Jess. ‘After what you did for me? Name it! I trust it will involve considerable pain and inconvenience.’

  ‘Well, yes, of course,’ said Fred. ‘Otherwise it wouldn’t be worth asking.’

  ‘OK, then – reveal my ordeal,’ Jess said, grinning.

  Fred sat down on an adjoining desk and sort of played with his long scruffy locks of hair.

  ‘I do wish you’d have your hair cut, by the way,’ said Jess.

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ sighed Fred. ‘I’m waiting for the right moment. Anyway, the deal is, it’s my mum’s birthday tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh! I adore your mum! She is appallingly delightful!’

  ‘Yes, well …’ Fred frowned a bit. ‘I don’t know what to get her. Could you possibly buy her some small token of my affection – some female-type thing, possibly adorned with lace and rosebuds? If anyone saw me buying something like that, my street cred would be at an end for ever.’ He took a crumpled twenty pound note from his pocket. ‘Be lavish,’ he said. ‘And …’ He hesitated, and blushed a little.