by Anna Wilson
‘The Warthogs?’ says Harris.
I can tell he is proud of himself for knowing about this.
‘Yeah,’ says Finn, ‘The Hogs.’ He pauses. ‘Your sister’s mate, Aubrey, told me she could get me into the band. I guess maybe Skye had told her I played the drums.’
‘Or Aubrey might have seen you bringing your drums into your house when you moved in. She and Skye were spying on you that day,’ says Harris, his voice full of glee.
Thanks, little bro!
Finn ignores Harris’s last comment and goes on, ‘Anyway, the trouble was, I had only just started having lessons. I got carried away with the idea of being in the band and told them that I could play anything. But then when they said they really did want me, I was too embarrassed to tell them that I had only had a few lessons. I kept making up excuses not to come to sessions. I started practising like mad at home, hoping I would get good enough to go soon, but then Mum turned up . . .’
‘What’s her problem?’ Harris asks.
I smile at him trying to sound cool.
‘Oh, all her usual stuff,’ Finn says, that edge back in his voice. ‘Rock music is “disturbing” and “messes with my aura”. She says I need to learn to “be still”. I tried ignoring her at first and playing anyway – just to annoy her!’
‘Yeah!’ says Harris.
‘But I can’t explain – she just gets to me. Argh!’ There is a noise as though Finn is smacking his hand down on the table. ‘She just doesn’t understand how important it is to me, being in The Hogs.’ He sounds really angry now. ‘I can’t keep avoiding going to the sessions without an explanation, but if I turn up now and try to play, they’ll see how rubbish I am. And then I will have stuffed up everything for the band because they really need a drummer soon, otherwise they won’t be able to play at the half-term gig. The posters are already up all around the school, thanks to Aubrey and her evil twin friends. They think they are like some kind of groupies of something. They just won’t leave it alone: following me around the whole time, begging me to get them in The Hogs as backing singers or whatever. I bet your sister is probably in on it as well. She and Aubrey are, like, glued together, aren’t they?’
I wish.
‘Argh!’ Finn cries again. I hear him get up and start pacing the room. ‘I wish Mum hadn’t come to stay,’ he says. ‘At least she’s gone now. That’s what she does, though: turns up without letting us know and disappears just as quickly.’ I hear the smacking sound again.
‘She seemed nice . . .’ Harris says.
‘Oh, come ON!’ says Finn, his voice rising. ‘You think so? What about her camper van? It is sooo embarrassing. She was going to take me to school in it. I would NEVER be allowed to forget it if she did. I ended up having the mickey taken at my last school because of her.’
Wow. He really is fed up with Yuki. I have to admit she did make some pretty snidey comments when we were round there, but I also thought she was kind of exotic. And the van was cool. I would love it if Mum took me to school in a van like that.
She does sound mean, though, saying those things about Finn’s drumming. I would be beside myself if my mum announced that I shouldn’t read so much – that it was bad for my ‘aura’, or whatever. I guess the drumming means as much to Finn as reading and writing does to me.
Maybe my mum is not so bad after all. She doesn’t tell me what I can and can’t do. And she is always here for me.
Should I go in and say something . . . ?
As I am mulling this over and wondering what I would say, Pongo comes out of the kitchen to find me. He starts whining, like he needs to go out for a pee.
‘Shh, boy,’ I say, creeping away from the door. I don’t want Finn and Harris to come out and find me listening in on them.
‘So, spying on me again, were you?’
Too late. Finn has opened the door and caught me loitering. His face is dark with fury.
‘I . . .’ I can hardly deny that I was eavesdropping, but I don’t know what to say.
‘You and your little friends – it’s either you or Aubrey or those toxic twins, on my back all the time,’ Finn spits. ‘It’s like you’re determined to wreck my chances at having any friends in this place.’
My throat has gone dry. I can’t think of anything to say back. I turn away from him. He might be angry with Yuki, but there is no need to take it out on me. I head to the kitchen.
‘Yeah, that’s right, run away,’ Finn says. ‘You never have the guts to face up to anything.’
How dare he!
I spin around, squaring up to him. ‘I haven’t got the guts?’ I repeat. I am dimly aware of Harris behind Finn, hovering in the doorway to the sitting room, but I am not going to let Finn get away with that last comment. ‘What about you and your little sob story about the band?’ I say. ‘Seems like you haven’t got the guts to tell anyone what you’re really like.’
The words burst out of me before I can think of what I am saying. I know I am being mean, and the look on Finn’s face makes me regret what I have just said.
His jaw is tight. He is all pent-up anger and energy, like a coiled spring. All he says is, ‘I can’t.’
Then it is as though someone has pulled a plug on my emotions. I don’t want to fight any more. I have lost my best friend already, everyone at school is laughing at me, even Mum doesn’t seem to understand me. I have just heard Finn pretty much admit to Harris that he feels the same and I have heard Harris say that he doesn’t want to go to school, so there is clearly something going on with him too. Which means I have not been a good big sister, as I have not been there for him.
I feel all the irritation and anger of the past few weeks drain away from me and in its place is a dragging tired sensation.
‘Finn,’ I say. ‘I am sorry I was eavesdropping just then—’
‘Spying,’ he says.
‘Whatever,’ I say. ‘I am sorry. It’s just that I thought you were cool with everyone at school. I thought everyone loved you. In fact I have been jealous. Which probably means I have been a dork. No wonder Aubrey doesn’t want to hang out with me any more . . .’ I take a deep breath. ‘Now I know how you really feel, maybe I can help?’
‘Thanks, but I think I’ve had enough of people trying to help,’ Finn says, turning away.
‘Maybe we should try to work things out,’ I say. ‘It is pretty harsh, you coming round here all the time and us not talking.’
Finn’s shoulders drop when I say that, as though he too has given up the fight. ‘Guess,’ he says. He looks me in the eye then and says, ‘I do like coming round here a lot, you know. It’s nice feeling part of a normal family.’
‘NORMAL?’ I say. ‘You have got to be joking!’
We both start laughing and it feels great to be like this, relaxing, not bickering.
‘Hey, we should do something all together while Mum’s out,’ I say. ‘Watch a movie?’
Finn nods.
‘I’ll ask Harris what he wants to watch,’ I say. ‘Harris!’ I shout. ‘Want to watch a film?’ When he doesn’t answer I scoot past Finn and go out into the hall. ‘Harris?’ I say again.
Then I see something that knocks the breath from my lungs.
The front door is open.
Harris has gone.
‘Harris? HARRIS! . . . Finn! You’ve got to help me.’
Finn puts his hand on my shoulder and says, ‘Don’t panic. I’ll look outside, you check inside in case he’s just playing a trick on us.’
‘Really?’
Finn gives me a small smile. I know he is only trying to make me feel better. ‘You mustn’t immediately assume the worst.’
But that is just what I am assuming. Harris was upset. I heard him talking to Finn. He was upset and now he has run away, and it is all my fault because I have been a rubbish sister.
My heart is scampering in time with my feet as I race around the house, shouting for my brother, looking in every room, even in wardrobes, the shower, under the bed
. . .
My chest is tight. Where has he got to?
‘Where ARE you, Harris? If this is a trick, like Finn says, you are so going to regret this.’
WHERE IS MY LITTLE BROTHER?
‘Who is going to regret what?’ says a voice.
I look up and see the strangest vision. For a moment I think I must be hallucinating. A creature is standing in the open front doorway. It’s a girl. I think. She has dark curly hair pinned up on top of her head. She is wearing a kind of medieval wench’s outfit: a cream blouse under a laced bodice with a very full brown skirt. And her feet are bare. And enormous. And hairy!
‘Er, hi?’ I say.
‘Your mum called. Said it was important I come round right away. Unfortunately it was a Ring Night at our place. The house is crawling with elves and hobbits. I couldn’t get into my room to change. So, where’s your mum and why are you standing in the hall with the front door open, talking to yourself?’
‘Aubrey?’ I say.
‘The one and only,’ she says, bowing.
I am stunned. Aubrey is unbelievable. She has humiliated me in front of the whole school and now she turns up as though everything is OK between us? And that outfit! This really is taking things to a whole new level. Does she seriously think Finn is going to go for her dressed like that?
‘Just go away, Aubrey,’ I say. ‘We don’t need you. We’ve got a crisis on our hands.’
‘What?’ Aubrey frowns.
‘She’s right,’ says a voice from behind her.
Aubrey turns to see Finn. She shrieks, pulls her wig off and throws it towards me. It lands on Gollum, who has chosen that moment to come down the stairs. She hisses and scoots past Aubrey and Finn into the street, still wearing the wig.
Finn pulls a face. ‘Nice one, Hobbit,’ he says. ‘Don’t suppose you have Gandalf with you? We could do with some magic right about now.’
‘I know I look utterly mental. Blame Mum,’ Aubrey babbles. She shuffles along to the coat rack and tries to pull one of Mum’s coats over her hairy feet to hide them. ‘She insisted I dress up and join in. It’s not like I had anything else to do, anyway, what with my best friend abandoning me and everything,’ she says, shooting daggers at me.
‘Oh shut up and go back to The Shire,’ I shout. ‘Life isn’t all about you, Aubrey Stevens. I have lost my little brother, OK? He’s gone missing and I can’t waste time standing here talking to a hairy-footed freak show.’ A sob erupts from me.
Finn looks horrified. ‘Don’t cry,’ he says. Then he turns to Aubrey and seems to grow a couple of inches. He fixes her with a stern look and says, ‘I think you should leave. Skye and I have to think about how to find Harris.’
Aubrey’s expression turns to shock as she realizes this is a proper crisis situation after all. ‘I’ll help,’ she says. ‘Just tell me what to do.’
I turn to Finn. ‘I’m so worried about him,’ I whisper.
‘Shh, it’s OK,’ says Finn, patting my arm. ‘I’m sure we’ll find him. He can’t have got far. Like you said, we can’t waste any more time. We need to search the streets. And I need to tell you something . . .’ He looks guilty.
‘What?’ I say, swiping at a hot tear on my face. What does he know that I don’t?
‘I’ll tell you on the way,’ says Finn, jumping to his feet. ‘Come on.’ He sounds decisive, in control. I am grateful. I feel anything but.
Aubrey leans in to me. ‘So, are you two going out, then?’ she says under her breath. ‘Cos, you know, if you are, that’s OK. I know I’ve been a bit—’
‘No!’ I say through gritted teeth. ‘We are not! And actually could you just shut up? Cos right now I don’t want to talk to you. I just want to find Harris.’
Aubrey gasps.
I turn away from her. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing any more tears. I swallow hard.
Finn is calling for Pongo. The dog charges out of the kitchen, panting with excitement at the thought of a walk.
‘It would be good to take Pongo. If anyone can find him, Pongo can,’ Finn explains. ‘And when we find Harris, it will cheer him up to see his dog,’ he adds, smiling.
It dawns on me that Finn knows Harris pretty well after all the time they have spent together. My stomach lurches with guilt as I think of how I have judged him and how moody I have been.
‘What were you going to tell me? Is it about Harris?’ I ask, as I shut the door behind us.
Finn crouches down and concentrates on getting Pongo’s lead on. ‘It’s not important now. I’ll tell you later,’ he says, keeping his voice low. He stands up, handing me the lead.
‘OK,’ he says, looking at me and Aubrey. ‘Where shall we go first? Split up or stay together?’
‘Stay together,’ says Aubrey.
I push away the thought that she would say that. I have to focus on finding Harris.
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Let’s start together, anyway. He can’t have got that far.’
I am not sure I believe myself. What if someone’s picked him up? He knows not to go with strangers, though. But what if . . . ?
I make myself concentrate on listening to Finn. He suddenly seems a lot more older and serious than I have ever seen him before.
We start by walking up and down our street, calling for Harris. Pongo strains to get ahead of us, keen to be let off and have a run around.
There is no sign of Harris in anyone’s garden, and I am pretty sure he wouldn’t be in anyone’s house. He has no friends in the street other than Finn.
‘What about the park?’ says Aubrey.
I go cold as I think of him all alone in the park. The evenings are lighter now, but still. He is only eight.
‘Good idea,’ says Finn. ‘Then maybe split up once we get there? Harris likes the swings . . .’
I know that he would never go to the swings on his own, though. He has never been anywhere on his own before.
‘OK,’ I croak.
Pongo starts pulling harder on the lead. He has just seen a cat and he’s desperate to chase it.
‘Pongo, heel!’ I shout. It is no good, he is stronger than me and I am being dragged towards the cat. I am already thinking that bringing Pongo with us was not such a great idea after all. I am thinking of telling Finn that I will take Pongo back. Then I see something that makes me gasp.
‘Finn!’
He spins round. ‘What? What’s the matter?’
I point to the fence at the end of our road.
My finger is trembling. ‘It’s Harris’s blanket,’ I whisper.
Finn picks it up and inspects it. ‘This is what he’s been using as a cape, right?’ he says. ‘For his dancing routines?’
I nod. ‘He’s been twirling it around his head, pretending to do the tango.’
‘How cute!’ Aubrey coos. ‘I didn’t know your brother was into dancing!’
I turn on her. ‘Yeah, well, you don’t know a lot about us these days, do you? Too busy being a suck-up with the Voldemort Twins and stalking The Hogs.’
‘Oh shut up,’ Aubrey sneers. ‘You haven’t exactly been the best friend in the world either.’
Finn’s mouth has twisted into a grim expression. ‘Will both you guys shut up for a second? We need to focus on Harris.’
‘Sorry.’ I am brought up short. He is right. I feel ashamed for letting my own silly little problems get in the way. I glance at Aubrey. She is shuffling her hobbity feet and looking pretty awkward too.
Finn isn’t concerned with us any more. He is looking up and the down the main road which leads from the end of our cul-de-sac to the park. ‘Let’s head for the park first,’ he says, and starts jogging.
He has long legs and it is tricky keeping up with him, even with Pongo pulling me along. Still, I am doing better than Aubrey: she hasn’t got a chance with those massive hobbit feet.
My breath starts to catch in my chest, both because I’m running and because panic is squeezing my heart and making my brain race with bad thought
s of what could have happened to Harris. What did Finn want to say earlier? I have to know.
I put on a spurt and catch up with him. ‘Tell me what you were going to say back there,’ I say, panting.
Finn slows down a notch. ‘I’m guessing you heard what Harris and I were talking about? When you were listening in?’
I bristle. ‘I was NOT listening—‘
Finn cuts me off. ‘Whatever. It doesn’t matter. The trouble is, I – I am not sure Harris would be happy me telling you, but I kind of think I have no choice now . . .’
‘Telling me what?’
Finn looks sideways at me. ‘I’m worried Harris has done something stupid.’
I grab his arm to slow him down. ‘Why? What’s the matter? What did Harris tell you?’ I gabble. ‘You said you were going to tell me something—’
‘OK, OK!’ Finn says. He slows to a walk again and shakes my hand off. ‘He’s being bullied,’ he mutters, looking at his feet.
‘WHAT?’ I shout. My stomach clenches. I knew he was unhappy. But I can’t think straight. Before I know it, I am taking my guilt out on Finn. ‘My little brother is being bullied and he told you and not me? And now he’s disappeared and you didn’t think to tell me this earlier?’
Aubrey has caught up at last. She is too out of breath to speak.
Finn shoots me a look of irritation. ‘I’m telling you now, aren’t I?’ he says. ‘He’s being bullied because of his dancing. He joined a class at school, even though he was the only boy. So now the other boys are calling him a freak and generally being idiots about it.’ He sighs. ‘I tried telling him he should ignore them – thing is, he says he didn’t care at first when they just called him names and stuff, but recently they’ve taken money from him and he says they’ve made his friends turn against him too.’
I feel sick. How can I not have known this about my own brother? I am a terrible, terrible sister.
