Drew slung his bag over his shoulder and smiled down at me, waving an absent farewell to the furious Louise and the amused Julie as the two of us walked together out the school gate. Drew started to say something when his face suddenly froze.
I looked up. My elation and triumph fizzled away. I had two more males to escort me home. Jeebie, crumpled floral shirt flying out behind him, bounced a ball to Brat, stared at Drew and then winked me.
I tried to restrain a groan. Jeebie, who definitely wasn’t my type, was out to cramp my style.
Chapter Twelve
“Why don’t you run on ahead and unlock the house for me?” I suggested to Brat, ignoring the grinning Jeebie as if he was invisible.
“Mum doesn’t like me going into the house first,” the little wretch chanted. “What if there’s a burglar waiting?”
“My sympathies are with the burglar,” Drew muttered. He delved into his pocket and spun a two dollar coin across to Brat. “If you go to the shop and buy your sister and me two cans of drink, you can keep the change.”
“No change out of that for two cans of drink,” Brat jeered, dancing around us.
Jeebie started to chuckle. I signalled a hate-filled get lost look at him, but he pretended not to see it. Brat grinned. He thought he was being funny. He flipped the coin back to Drew. I clenched my hands and wished they were tightening around my beastly little brother’s neck.
Drew’s smile looked a bit forced. “I like a kid who’s good at arithmetic,” he said. He flipped the coin back and another four coins back as well. Brat caught them like a trained juggler. “That do? Take your time at getting back.”
“Okay, I suppose,” Brat said with a shrug. He threw his school bag at me to carry and ran off up the street towards the general store.
Drew and I continued our progress home escorted by the silent Jeebie. Today Jeebie wore jeans with patches on both knees, and a ragged and faded black T-shirt. Contrasted with Drew, he looked like a scarecrow dressed at the local thrift shop. Drew also wore jeans, but you could tell by their fit that they were expensive ones, and his shirt sat immaculately across his broad shoulders.
Our conversation on the way home had been stilted, with Jeebie listening to everything we said. Drew asked whether I was going to the pool in the morning and I assured him I was. Then I asked how he liked Mr McVitty as a tennis coach, and he said he was a great guy but a bit obsessive about training. Then we were silent. I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to talk to Drew about with Jeebie listening to every word I said and I guess Drew felt the same.
At last we reached our front gate. I acknowledged Jeebie’s presence as if I had just discovered he was there. “Bye, Jeebie. See you some time.”
Jeebie just grinned at us and vaulted the fence into his grandmother’s place. I sneaked a look at my watch. With luck, if Brat stayed missing I would have a whole hour with Drew before Mum arrived home. I smiled up at Drew as I opened the front door.
“Come through to the sunroom, and I’ll get out the rest of my notes.”
The sun room was the built in back veranda. It looked on to our back lawn and was cosy and private. It was Mum’s domain which she used when she worked from home. It held her spare drawing board and desk, bookcases and the spare couch. If and when Brat arrived back I could send him into the lounge room to watch television so he would be out of our hair.
“My mother said your mother used to be the brain of the school,” Drew said, his eyes going to Mum’s drawing board. “You inherit her brilliance for math as well?”
“No,” I admitted. “If I didn’t work like a dog I would sink to the bottom of the class.”
I was instantly suspicious. Was Drew actually trying to use me? If Drew was attracted to straight A students, why me instead of Louise? Louise could easily have written up these notes. I flipped my plait back over my shoulder and unfolded my notes. Drew sat down and casually put his arm around me.
He suddenly smiled. He was so close to me that I saw how thick the black lashes that edged his blue eyes were. I forgot what I had been thinking about. It wasn’t fair that such gorgeous lashes were wasted on a guy. Also it was odd that they were so black, when his hair and eyebrows were so gleamingly blond.
“I said I’m so grateful.” He had been speaking and I hadn’t heard a word he’d said. “I was dreading tackling my assignments and I feel such an idiot for dropping so far behind on my reading.”
“No trouble,” I stammered. “Reading is one of my hobbies and I enjoy analysing themes and everything.”
Drew leaned even closer. My knees got their wobbly feel to them again. Then there was a loud knock on the back door and Drew sat upright and looked annoyed. “Your little brother back already?”
“He wouldn’t knock,” I said. I shifted my notes and went outside and opened the door.
“Sorry to bother you, golliwog,” Jeebie said with his broad grin. I glared at him in fury. Did he think he was being funny, turning up where he wasn’t wanted? “I promised your mother I would mow the back lawn this afternoon. I hope I won’t disturb you.”
“How could you?” I snapped as I slammed the door in his face and went back to the sun room. “Jeebie’s offered to do the back lawn for Mum,” I explained as I sat down beside Drew again. “Won’t take him long.”
It didn’t either. It was annoying having him tramp backwards and forwards across our small lawn. I concentrated on explaining the notes I had taken to Drew. I was horrified to discover that he hadn’t read any of the books listed. I know it was rough to start another school three-quarters of the way through the year, but I couldn’t see his Year 11 English teacher being too understanding about it.
At last, the noise of the mower stopped. I watched as Jeebie vanished around the side path, wheeling the mower back next door. I relaxed. He was gone and Drew and I still had three-quarters of an hour together.
Drew’s arm stole back around my shoulders. Five minutes later I happened to glance out the window. The grinning Jeebie was carefully trimming the edges of the lawn with what looked like the smallest hand clippers I had ever seen. I reached for the other two books on Drew’s Year 11 list, and started explaining their characters and plots as he took notes. All the time I watched Jeebie out of the corner of my eye. It was distracting having him in view through the window as he worked. He trimmed around the lawn, around the shed and then along the side of the fence. I thought he would never finish.
Brat came around the back, spoke to him for a minute and then crashed inside to hand Drew and me our cans of drink. Jeebie raked up the cut grass and then at last jumped the fence back into his grandmother’s place. I sneaked another look at my watch. In exactly ten minutes’ time my mother would be home.
“You’re missing your favourite cartoon show,” I reminded Brat, who had propped on the floor and emptied out his purchases.
“I’ve got a whole dollar’s worth of balloon water bombs,” Brat gloated, ignoring my suggestion. “Are we going down to the beach on Sunday so I can try them out? Look at them. There’s red and green and blue and yellow and pink and purple and …”
“Maybe,” I snarled at him. “But right now Drew and I have some work to finish. Stop bothering me or I’ll flatten you.”
“I’m going,” Brat said in an aggrieved tone. “I just wanted to show you all the sweets I’ve got for a dollar. Want some?”
“Out,” I ordered.
Brat always shared his sweets – it was one of his few good points – but I was suspicious of his generosity under the circumstances. Brat carefully picked up his balloons and counted them, one by one, and put them in his bag. I waited in an infuriated silence. Another five minutes was devoted to arranging all his sweets before they were slowly stored away and he left the room.
Drew and I sort of swayed closer. “Never been so glad in my life that I am a one and only,” he whispered, his lips very close to mine.
The door banged as Brat returned. “Mum’s home,” he said. “I’ll put your
cans in the bin so she doesn’t yell at you for being in her room.”
Drew looked startled at that and began shuffling all his notes and my notes together and packing them into his bag. I heard Mum speak to Brat and then her footsteps as she came down the passage and into the sun room.
“Hello, Mrs. Baxter,” Drew said with his nice smile as he stood up.
“Hi, Mum,” I said cheerfully. Not that I felt cheerful but Mum was witch-like the way she could suss out situations. “This is Drew Jamison. We’ve been going over some English assignments together.”
“I’m just leaving,” Drew said smoothly. “Nice meeting you Mrs. Baxter. See you, Amanda, Brett.”
I walked as far as the gate with him, but Brat skipped out beside us. All I could call after Drew was, “Might see you at the pool in the morning.”
“Goody,” Brat gloated. “We’re going to the pool in the morning.”
“That’s what you think,” I yelled as I lunged for him. He ducked and streaked for the house. We both reached the kitchen together but Mum was waiting. “I’m going to murder that little brat,” I threatened. “You’ve got to make him behave or I’ll leave home.”
“What is it now?” Mum laughed. “I don’t see why you can’t be more mature, Amanda. Brett is the one who is ten.”
“And won’t live to be much older if you don’t do something about him,” I raged. “He hung around Drew and me like a bad smell.”
“I didn’t,” Brat protested. “I only came in to show Amanda what I bought with the money Drew gave me, and share my sweets.”
Mum raised her eyebrows and looked at me. I felt myself going red. Put that way it sounded as if Drew had paid him to go missing.
“He refused to buy us some cans of drink unless Drew paid him to do it,” I accused.
“I’m missing my cartoon show.” Brat shot into the lounge room and turned the television up full blast.
“Quite,” Mum said drily. “Come and help me prepare dinner. I tried to get home earlier tonight because I was worried about Brett. I don’t think it helps to keep bullying your little brother when he’s been sick.”
“He’s all right now,” I muttered.
I waited for her to say something else but she didn’t. I had myself all psyched up to defend Drew’s presence in the house. I know she didn’t mind my friends coming around after school, but I had this gut feeling that she was likely to object to Drew being alone in the house with me.
“Jeebie did the back lawn this afternoon,” I said.
“He’s a solid citizen,” Mum said absently as she looked out the back window. “Wish you would do the lawns that well.”
“Yeah,” I agreed flatly.
“John Belano is staying with his grandmother for three months as his parents have gone overseas and he is so helpful.”
“Yeah,” I said. What was helpful about the news that he was going to be around for three whole months?
“His father is a physicist and his mother a medical doctor,” Mum said. “Very clever people, the Belano's. John is a credit to them.”
I thought about Jeebie and his patched jeans and his lack of inhibitions and decency. What did his parents think of having a son like that? What was creditable about having a son who howled like a wolf and trotted like a dog?
“Yeah,” I said again.
It was one of those situations where least said soonest mended, as the olds say. I finished setting the table and went into the lounge room to remind Brat about his bath.
“Can I come to the pool with you tomorrow?” he pestered.
“No.”
“I’ll pay my own way in.”
I remembered the balloons and the bag of sweets. They would have added up to a good two dollars’ worth. An unreal suspicion grew in the back of my mind. I tried to keep my voice just casually interested. “Where did the extra money come from to pay your way into the pool?”
“Jeebie paid me another dollar to show you everything I bought with my two dollars,” Brat explained. “He reckoned Drew would like to see the colour of every single balloon and know how much I paid for each sweet.”
I tried to practise controlled breathing. I was not going to lose my temper. That insufferable creep Jeebie had paid Brat to hang around. He had ruined my afternoon. He was a sleaze and a slime bag. By comparison, Murray the Murk was an innocent choir boy. Then and there I made a sacred vow to myself. I was going to get back at that guy if it was the last thing I ever did.
“Why are you looking so funny?” Brat demanded. “It’s all right to come to the pool with you tomorrow if I pay for myself, isn’t it?
Chapter Thirteen
The pool was almost deserted because it was past the early morning training time and too early for the dabblers, despite the promise of the hot clear morning. I dropped my towel on the bench and checked the place out. Only three girls were using the pool, Wendy, Helen and Allie. I waved a greeting. Helen hung around with Sandy, and Wendy and Allie were into snorkelling with the guys.
One of the swimmers was Geordie; I recognized his powerful strokes as he churned up and down between the guide ropes. Murray the Murk was in the next lane, flashing along with his effortless, splashless crawl. I glimpsed Sandy chugging along and Paul’s bright orange bathing cap half hidden by the water thrown up by his backstroke. There was no sign of Drew
“Hi Jeebie,” Brat yelled in my ear. He nudged me. “He’s a pretty good swimmer, isn’t he?”
“Big deal,” I snarled. Mum had backed Brat up that he could come to the pool with me this morning. “Why don’t you get lost?”
The thought of Jeebie actually having the incredible nerve to use our pool was the last straw. Brat had made a mistake this time though – there was no sign of my tormentor anywhere around the pool. I tossed my plait back and sat on the bench. Where was Drew? Had I missed him? Had he come and gone with the early morning training squad?
Brat grinned, adjusted his goggles and dove in, arms and legs flailing. I watched him bob across the pool with his tadpole breaststroke until he reached the last lane. Despite my annoyance, I admired my little brother’s swimming style. He was so gutsy and determined about his swimming. He trod water and waited for Paul’s orange-covered head, moving in a whirl of churned up water, to reach him.
The orange covered head and flailing arms backed into him. Brat vanished. I couldn’t see whether he had been rammed or had had the sense to dive. He bobbed up again, the orange cap turned and I recognized Jeebie’s distinctive profile. He said something to Brat. Brat pointed.
Jeebie grinned and waved to me. I looked across the pool and pretended not to see him. For a few rash seconds I was almost tempted to swim over and hold him under until he went blue, but Jeebie was likely to take that as encouragement. Brat’s loud squeal of delight echoed around the pool as Jeebie flipped him bodily out of the swimming lane and across to the general swimming area. Jeebie soon followed him and started showing him the overarm stroke.
I put on my goggles and dove into a vacant lane. I certainly wasn’t going to sit on the bench alone and look as if I was waiting around for Drew, wherever he might be. I had done about five laps when I swam straight into Jeebie. I had my head down and hadn’t seen him bob through into my lane. For a few seconds we were tangled together and I struggled furiously. He definitely was a lot lower than Murray the Murk and he didn’t even have the excuse of a skinful of drink.
I felt his whole body shake with amusement. I managed to get the heel of my foot against his chest and shoved him away, hard. He back-flipped and turned to come back, submerged up to his narrowed brown eyes which gleamed with amusement. Under the ridiculous orange cap his ears flared out like paddles and his nose seemed even beakier. I just couldn’t believe that I had attracted such a dork.
“Lovely morning, golliwog.”
“You’re in my way,” I snapped and kept on swimming until I reached the edge of the pool.
I climbed out and didn’t look back until I had picked up my t
owel. I walked across to join Allie, Wendy, and Murray the Murk. Helen and Sandy were still in the pool, and Jeebie had returned to his backstroking up and down his lane with Brat in dogged pursuit after him.
“Hope he’s interested in the swimming sports,” Wendy remarked as she watched him. “We haven’t got a decent backstroker in the team.”
“Pity young Brat isn’t older,” Murray said. “He’s going to make a good butterfly stroker one day.”
Everyone looked across at Brat. For a skinny little kid he wasn’t bad. He followed Jeebie, bobbing up out of the water like a porpoise at each stroke.
“Suppose Drew Jamison will be all right for the butterfly if he trains hard enough,” Wendy mused.
“If,” Murray said with a snigger. “I reckon he plays too hard to do any training.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” I kept my voice casual. “Every time I see him he’s training.”
“For the lovelorn Olympics.” Murray whooped. He nudged at Wendy. “He looked as if he was into real heavy training last night.”
“We saw him at Tootles with Louise,” Wendy added.
I kept looking at Brat and Jeebie thrashing up and down the pool as if my life depended on it. I didn’t want anyone to see the expression on my face when I heard that titbit. If it hadn‘t been for my obnoxious little brother it would have been me with Drew at the disco last night. Louise had managed to get that invitation by default. It just wasn’t fair.
Jeebie, followed by Brat, swam to the side of the pool and climbed out with Helen and Sandy behind them. Geordie came out too, but he didn’t matter. He flung us a brief salute and vanished into the changing room. The others headed for our group.
Suddenly, the area around the pool was no longer deserted. The pleasant early morning peace was gone. Family groups and crowds of kids swarmed in, and the attendants removed the lane ropes. In a few seconds the pool looked churned up and uninviting as everyone jumped, dived, and splashed in.
Three's a Crowd Page 6
