by Sue Limb
‘Ugh!Ugh! ISureAsHellHopeNot,’ said Fergus. ‘SeeYouTomorrow. Bye!’
Dear little Fergus! Ransacking his piggy bank! Prizing his little pennies out and putting them in a sweet little envelope just to help his rather sad friend, Yours Truly! I was thinking of Fergus with great affection as I wiped my bum. Although to be honest I’m not sure he would ever want to know that.
I washed my hands with endless care, just to waste a bit more time, and then went back downstairs to pick at the last few shreds of salad. Mum was now busy arguing with Dad about whether they were going away for a weekend sometime soon. Good. This meant she had, temporarily at least, forgotten about my ‘school trip’.
‘But I love Tenby!’ Dad was saying.
‘You’re such an old stickin-the-mud,’ complained Mum. ‘I want to whisk you away to Nice for a romantic break by the Med!’
‘Who’s going to look after little Zoe?’ asked Dad, putting on a pity for the tragic orphan kind of face.
‘She can go to Chloe’s, like she always does!’ Mum assured him.
I shovelled down the last of my supper and then swiftly cleared away the dishes. I was feeling slightly better since Fergus’s call. He had reminded me how lucky I was to have buddies like him. I just had to find him a partner for the Earthquake Ball. I might have to go down to New Look and bribe a tiny but cute starlet as she emerged from the changing rooms.
I went back upstairs and entered Tam’s room. I lay on her bed and sent her a text. HAVE GOT BIG BUCKS FOR YOU. FUND CURRENTLY STANDS AT AROUND £692. I THINK THAT MIGHT HAVE TO BE IT THOUGH. LV, Z X
Immediately a text whizzed back: YOU BEAUT, ZOE! I’LL COME HOME THIS WEEKEND AND COLLECT IT. OH WHOOPEE!
I was glad she was pleased, but I wasn’t sure about that ‘Oh whoopee’ business. She sounded a bit rampant. As if she might just grab my friends’ dosh, race off to the mall, and blow it all on glass slippers and golden coaches. I looked around her room. Everywhere it seemed there was some kind of evidence against her.
Sparkly scarves hanging from her hat stand. The hat stand itself (antique pine – a junk shop purchase.) Something made of ostrich feathers. I don’t much like feathers. They’re OK on birds, but I feel that’s where they should stay. I stared rather moodily at her guitar, amp and keyboard. A couple of years ago Tam had toyed with the idea of being a rock star.
On her noticeboard there were lots of photos of her at various ages. Some of the photos had me in as well. I would always be just standing there like a sack of sand, grinning nerdily at the camera. But Tam would be striking a pose, all the time. Hand on hip, pouting lip, pulling a ‘hideous’ face but somehow still effortlessly Hollywood … you know the sort of thing.
I felt a bit tired, turned over towards the wall and came face to face with her old teddy bear, Captain. His gloomy old snout was up close to mine. He’s a miserable old bear, to be honest, but then you’d be miserable if your mistress had gone off to uni and left you at home. She told him it was because his arms have a tendency to fall off and she didn’t want him to get damaged. But Captain knew it was because she didn’t want him to be staring disapprovingly at her as she had all that wonderful fun with her friends.
‘Captain,’ I said, just to pass the time, ‘you smell of old tears. But you ain’t seen nothing yet.’ I thought it might be a considerate act, if I felt a crying fit coming on (and didn’t I just!) to offer it to Captain rather than my own bear, Bruce, who is smiley, fluffy, and possibly gay. Bruce certainly wouldn’t mind being passed over for Captain once in a while. He’s so laid back, he won’t even sit up properly. If you try to sit him upright, he just topples sideways with a louche grin on his face.
I went into my bedroom. Bruce was sprawling on his back, smiling at the ceiling. I’m certainly going to take him with me if I ever go to uni. He’s such a party animal.
I opened the wardrobe door. This was where I’d stashed the big bucks. There were two boxes in there – a small one full of clothes I’m certainly going to donate to charity, and a big one half-full of clothes I might donate. On top was a sequinned boob tube from my mum’s old college days. I scrabbled about under this pile until I felt the magic envelope. I rather furtively got it out and peeped inside. So many notes! So much money! It was wonderful, but also kind of scary. I closed the envelope again and tucked it safely away, underneath all the ‘Clothes I Might Donate’. Then I closed the wardrobe door, and joined Bruce on the bed.
I was halfway through our first cuddle when my mobile rang again. What was this? Tam reporting that she’d already got through my first £100 by setting up a tab and treating everyone in the college bar to a flagon of champagne? Oh no – it was Chloe.
‘Zoe!’ she sounded deep in crisis, as usual. ‘I can’t go to the Ball with Matthew! I’ve been thinking about it and I was mad to ask him. It was only because I’d just had a row with Beast. Please, please get me out of this! Ring him and tell him I’m ill! I know I’m being useless and horrid again but please, just do this one small thing for me and I promise, from now on I’ll be fabulous and help you out with all the tough stuff!’
I had to smile. ‘No listen, Chloe,’ I said gently. ‘This is the perfect opportunity for you to start doing the tough stuff right now. You asked him to the Ball, so it’s got to be you who dumps him. OK?’ I knew if I rang Matthew and told him Chloe was ill, he’d ask me to go with him instead – Nigel or no Nigel.
‘Oh no! I couldn’t dump him!’ said Chloe. ‘Poor Matthew! But, Zoe, how can I go with him? He’s weird.’
‘Sleep on it,’ I advised her. ‘Give it twenty-four hours, and if you’re still horrified at the thought, we’ll think of something then.’
‘Come round my house tomorrow night after school,’ said Chloe. ‘It’ll be our last chance to sort something out. Frankly I’m so sick of this Ball business I’d willingly go down with food poisoning just to avoid it.’
It was indeed a tempting thought.
‘Well, come round mine,’ I said. ‘It’s my dad’s night to cook. You never know, we might get lucky.’
.
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31
FRIDAY 4.55 p.m.
Disastrous timing …
It was an averagely unpleasant school day. I didn’t glimpse Oliver anywhere. I kind of knew he’d be going to the Ball with the long-legged girl. All I asked was that he didn’t actually snog her in front of me.
Nigel had revved up into one of his madly pulsating crescendos. Everywhere I went, I felt my spot was leading the way and emitting blinding rays like a miner’s lamp.
Chloe had spent the whole day obsessing about Matthew. Half the time she’d reconciled herself to going with him, and half the time she wanted me to go round to his house and slip a bit of germ warfare through the letter box. I hadn’t had the heart to tell her he’d said he’d rather go with me, anyway. If I’d said that, Chloe would have yelled, ‘Well, you go with him, then! The perfect solution!’
No way would I go to the ball with Matthew. He was an android. It would be unprofessional, anyway. I was his life coach. He’d rung me up a few more times – once to ask if he should have a tattoo, once to get my advice about what sort of shoes to wear to the Ball. I was beginning to think I should charge him for these calls.
Toby and Fergus had tried and failed to sell their tickets. They had evidently decided that, as a fairy godmother, I was crap. I had to admit there were no magic spells in the cupboard.
‘It’s all right for them anyway,’ I sighed as we trudged back to my place. ‘Boys can just go to the Ball in gangs without looking sad and unloved.’
Chloe stopped in her tracks. She went pale. She went red. She sort of clutched her stomach. I hoped she wasn’t going to be sick.
‘Oh my God!’ she said. ‘Oh my God! My God! That’s it!’
‘What’s what?’ I enquired nervously.
‘We go with them!’ spluttered Chloe. ‘But as boys! We dress as boys! We go as a boys’ gang with Fergus and Toby!’
/> Feverishly I swept Chloe into my arms. ‘You beaut!’ I screeched. ‘You babe! You Einstein! You’ve cracked it! Re-sult!’
And locked in a ferocious hug, we wheeled round and round and round on the pavement, scattering school books out of our bags, in a frenzy of celebration.
Moments later, while Chloe picked up the books, I texted Toby: PROB SOLVED! YOU SHALL GO TO THE BALL! AND WITH VERY UNUSUAL PARTNERS. RING ME NOW! But Toby didn’t ring me, and when I rang him, his phone went straight to voicemail. I was so frustrated and desperate to talk to him I stared at my phone all the way home and tried to force it to ring by the sheer power of thought.
Chloe had texted her mum to say she’d be staying at my place, because this amazing breakthrough was going to take us all evening, and most of tomorrow, to organise.
‘I’ll ring the fancy dress hire place,’ she said. ‘God! I hope they’ve got a tiny tuxedo just big enough for a Hobbit, because if they haven’t, I’m stuffed.’
‘Right!’ I said, racing into the kitchen and grabbing the phone directory. ‘You find the number – and we must ring Toby and Fergus on their landlines and tell them we’re going as an all-male gang.’
‘Hey, Zoe!’ came a voice all of a sudden, out of the sitting room. ‘What’s going on? Some kind of crisis?’
It was Tamsin! She looked as if she’d been dozing on the sofa. She stood in the doorway, a bit sleepy and crumpled, and held out her arms. I bounded down the stairs and gave her a massive hug.
‘Love you!’ she whispered.
‘Love you!’ I responded.
‘The dress-hire place closes at seven!’ shouted Chloe from the kitchen. ‘So I’ll ask them to put some things aside for us for tomorrow morning!’
‘Dress hire?’ said Tam, cocking an inquisitive eyebrow.
‘It’s for the Earthquake Ball!’ I said. ‘It’s tomorrow!’
‘Always so last minute, Zoe!’ laughed Tam. ‘Don’t spend a fortune hiring anything, though – look what I’ve brought.’
I went into the sitting room. There was a really huge suitcase in there, on wheels.
‘You should have heard the taxi driver curse!’ said Tamsin, giggling as she heaved the case on to its side and unzipped it. Inside was a huge kind of lasagne of clothing. Fabulous dresses – some I recognised, some I’d never seen before. Sparkly, satin, sequinned, the lot.
‘I’m going to take them to that vintage shop in the high street,’ she said. ‘I’m sure Dixie will give me a good price. After all, I’ve been one of her best customers in the past.’
‘You’re selling them?’ I was amazed, but also reassured. Tam is normally such a hoarder.
‘Well, I’ve got to,’ she said, in a confidential tone. ‘Because of you-know-what. But you can have your pick for the Ball, first.’
‘Thanks, but no thanks!’ I grinned. ‘We won’t need dresses for the Ball, because we’re going as boys. With tuxedos and everything.’
‘Wow! Excellent!’ said Tam, but she looked preoccupied. She looked around furtively and dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘Listen, Zoe – I hate to seem kind of grasping, but do you think you could give me the muns now, while Mum’s out? She’ll be back in a minute – she’s just gone shopping. Dad’s been excused cooking tonight and Mum’s going to bring a takeaway back.’
‘Where’s Dad now?’ I asked, listening for sounds upstairs.
‘I think he’s in the middle of some fiendish bit of web design,’ said Tam. ‘He had a cup of tea with me when I first arrived, but then he went back upstairs and said he’d got a nasty little glitch he had to iron out. But his door’s closed and Freddie Mercury is doing major decibels.’
Dad always listens to Queen when he’s wrestling with some kind of computer problem.
Chloe joined us in the hall. ‘Tamsin!’ she yelled. ‘How are you?’
‘Chloe!’ yelled Tamsin, giving her a major hug. ‘You look fabulous! And thank you so very very much for you know what! You’re an absolute angel!’
‘It’s fine,’ said Chloe. ‘Anything to help, you know …’
‘So …’ Tam seemed to want to change the subject. Understandably. ‘So you guys have got the Ball sorted?’
‘Yeah.’ Chloe grinned. ‘Although we must ring Matthew, Zoe, and tell him I’ve got the flu.’
‘We can’t tell him that,’ I objected. I knew he would then ask me.
‘I left a message on Toby’s voicemail,’ Chloe went on, ‘saying, “Relax, it’s all sorted.”’
‘The all-male solution is perfect,’ I said. I heaved a big sigh, and cuddled Tam again. It seemed everything was getting sorted at last.
‘You smell nice, Tam.’ I said. ‘What is that perfume?’
‘It’s Ralph Lauren,’ said Tam, looking at me guiltily. ‘Don’t worry, though, it’s not new. Tom gave it to me when we first got together. We’re finished now, though. I dumped him because he was an evil influence.’
‘Evil?’ grinned Chloe. ‘How, evil?’
‘No, OK, I admit it,’ said Tam. ‘I dumped him because he was seeing somebody else. But who cares? I’m better off without him.’
Tam certainly seemed to be in a buoyant mood. Her eyes sparkled, her face shone, and her smile was a mile wide.
‘You look really happy, Tam,’ I said. ‘It’s brilliant!’
‘Well, that’s all because of you, little sis,’ said Tam. ‘You’re going to save my life – shall we sort it out now, quick, before Mum gets back?’
‘OK.’ I grinned, and all three of us raced upstairs. ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ was blasting out from Dad’s study, but the door was firmly closed. We could bank on the thirty seconds of privacy necessary to hand over the sacred stash of notes.
We all crowded into my bedroom. It looked tidier than usual. Then I remembered, the cleaner comes on Fridays. I sort of like it looking tidy, but I also love being untidy. It wouldn’t take me long to create chaos out of order again. I flung open the wardrobe door – and almost fainted.
The box was gone! Both the boxes were gone! The small one containing the clothes I was definitely going to donate to the charity shop, and the big one containing the other stuff I wasn’t quite sure about. And I’d hidden the envelope of cash at the bottom of that box! Oh my God! Where had it gone? I couldn’t have lost it! I couldn’t have lost over £600 – and mostly my friends’ money!
I turned in complete shock and horror to Tam and Chloe. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I could feel myself going as red as a beetroot, then as pale as death. My heart was performing these odd mad lurching beats. I felt as if I was going to faint.
‘Where is it?’ said Tam, looking panic-stricken. ‘Where did you leave it?’
‘In the box!’ I found my voice at last, and shrieked. ‘There was a box in my wardrobe! Two boxes! Of old clothes I was sorting out! I hid it under there! They’ve gone!’
Tam was speechless. Chloe went pale and sat down on the bed. I started to shake. I started to whimper.
‘Stop it!’ said Tam. ‘Calm down, Zoe. We can sort this out.’
Downstairs, I heard the sound of Mum’s key in the front door.
.
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32
FRIDAY 7.28 p.m.
More bloodcurdling surprises …
‘Don’t tell her!’ hissed Tam. ‘Don’t mention the money!’
‘But …’ Chloe hesitated. It was all very well for Tam to say ‘don’t mention the money’, but it was actually Chloe’s money that had disappeared. My blood ran cold. Chloe didn’t finish her sentence. She just kind of gulped like a goldfish.
‘Hi, honeys, I’m home!’ shouted Mum up the stairs. ‘Come down and help me unpack and you will be rewarded with an Indian takeaway!’ We looked at one another.
‘Try and look happy and relaxed!’ said Tam, looking about as happy and relaxed as somebody disappearing into a crocodile. We went downstairs, trying to appear merry and skittish, but it was like wearing shocking pink to a funeral.
&nbs
p; ‘Ah! Chloe!’ Mum beamed. ‘I thought you might be around, so I got some of your favourite – that potato dish. Aloo something-or-other.’
‘Thanks!’ said Chloe in a rather pale, anguished voice.
Mum didn’t notice. She was putting some plates in the oven to warm. ‘Typical of Dad,’ she grumbled. ‘I asked him to warm up the plates … Unpack that box, will you, Tam? You’ll find some of your favourite treats in there.’
‘Ooh, fabulous!’ trilled Tam, although her voice went a bit too high and sounded on the edge of mad hysteria. Luckily it was drowned out by the clatter of Dad coming downstairs.
‘Where’s my tandoori chicken?’ he boomed in a caveman voice. It all could have been so much fun, really, if only my life wasn’t in ruins. And Tam’s life, obviously. And Chloe’s, too, of course.
‘Mum.’ I decided to seize the bull by the horns. ‘Where are those boxes of clothes that were in the bottom of my wardrobe?’
‘Oh, I took them to the charity shop today,’ said Mum. ‘I had a day off work so I’ve had a jolly good clear-out. You did say you wanted to get rid of them.’
‘Not all of them!’ I cried, not really able to hide a howl of anguish. ‘I was sorting the stuff in the bigger box! I wanted to keep some of it!’
‘It’s always hard to let things go,’ said Mum brightly, in her therapist mode. ‘But you’ll feel liberated, really, Zoe, once you realise what a lot of space you’ve got now.’
If only she knew. It’s kind of hard to feel liberated when what you’ve given away is over £600, and it doesn’t even belong to you. And all the space is in your wallet, and your friends’ wallets, and in your sister’s bank account.
‘There was stuff in that box I really, really need!’ I said, trying to make it sound important, but not too interestingly crucial.
‘What stuff?’ Mum was still packing things away, as if she couldn’t really be bothered to concentrate on my pathetic little drama. That suited me fine. I didn’t want her to stand still and stare ruthlessly at me with her beady little lie detectors. But I did need to find out where the boxes had gone.
‘Well, to be honest, I hid my diary in that box,’ I said, suddenly seeing a way out.
