Secrets at St Jude’s: Rebel Girl

by Carmen Reid

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘You won’t ever . . .’ Amy began.

  ‘Call you that again? Well . . . no, not if you don’t want me to.’ He tried to put a cheery smile in place but it didn’t quite come off.

  ‘No!’ She smacked his arm. ‘You won’t ever stop calling me that, will you? That’s what I was going to ask.’

  ‘OK, princess.’ He grinned. ‘You look after yourself too. Promise me?’

  ‘Promise.’

  He turned to go, but then stopped and looked at her with curiosity: ‘You don’t have a boyfriend right now, do you?’

  ‘No!’ she replied, surprised.

  ‘No. I thought you would have told me if you did. But I’m kind of stunned – why don’t you have a boyfriend? Why are you not fighting them off with a stick?’

  ‘Ha, long story. Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. Off you go, good night. Safe journey.’

  She stayed on the steps to wave him off as he got into the sleek car and drove away into the night.

  Only when the car had pulled out of the driveway did she allow her intense sadness at tonight’s news to wash over her.

  She and her very hard-working dad were going to have to move out of their beautiful home. They were going to have to let someone else move in and take over the huge black leather corner sofa and the jacuzzi and the roof terrace. Someone else would be looking at the views right over the Glasgow rooftops and out to the hills beyond the city.

  And would that even be enough?

  Would her dad manage to save the business? Would Amy still be able to go to St Jude’s? She knew that she wanted to stay here at school, but she felt so guilty about the cost.

  Her head was swirling with these frightening thoughts as she went in through the boarding-house front door.

  She waved a quick hello to Mel, Rachel and Miss McKinnon, standing in the hallway, and headed for the sitting room so that she could register that she was officially back.

  As Amy pushed open the sitting-room door, a green plastic pot flew into the air. It bounced against the door, splattering Amy’s face and her silky white sequinned top with a great cloud of green goo, then it landed on the carpet where the rest of its contents spilled out onto the floor.

  This was too much for Amy; she burst into fierce and painful sobs.

  ‘Oh, bum . . .’ a familiar voice said from behind the sofa.

  Then Niffy’s shorn head popped up.

  When Miss McKinnon hurried into the sitting room to find out why Amy was crying in there, she saw her slumped on the sofa, her pale top splattered with green, her face in her hands.

  Hovering beside her was Niffy, who looked very concerned, but didn’t seem to know what to do to comfort her friend.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Niffy said, both to Amy and to Miss McKinnon. ‘It was just supposed to be funny. A joke. I really didn’t want to upset you. I wasn’t even aiming at you. I didn’t think you’d be back for ages.’

  ‘What’s that green stuff?’ Miss McKinnon asked.

  ‘Slime . . . extra runny . . .’ Niffy admitted. ‘If Amy would just let me, I could get it off her top and it’s guaranteed non-staining.’

  ‘GO AWAY!’ Amy roared from behind her hands. ‘Everything’s just so ha-bloody-ha to you. Just a game, just a joke . . . does anything serious ever happen to you at all?’

  With this, Amy looked up and both Niffy and Miss McKinnon saw her tear-soaked face.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Niffy said again. ‘And you know serious stuff does happen to me too,’ she added sadly.

  ‘Sorry,’ Amy said, sounding a little calmer.

  They were both thinking about Niffy’s mum, who was fighting cancer, for goodness sake. Amy could have kicked herself for being so tactless.

  Miss McKinnon spotted a tissue box on a side table and brought it over to Amy. Once Amy had blown her nose and wiped down her slime-splattered face, Miss McKinnon asked gently, ‘How was your evening out with your dad?’

  Unfortunately this made Amy burst into tears again.

  ‘Oh, no!’ Niffy understood a little better now. ‘Are things really bad?’

  ‘Oh dear.’ Miss McKinnon sat down on the sofa beside Amy, holding out the tissues. When she asked, ‘Do you want to tell us a little about it?’ she sounded so understandingly kind, that in between tears and tissues, Amy explained everything that her dad had said to her over dinner.

  ‘But you’re not going to leave St Jude’s?’ Niffy asked anxiously.

  ‘No. That’s not the plan. Not at the moment . . .’ came the hesitant reply, ‘but we’ll have to move out of the flat . . . and it might have to be sold if . . .’ Amy quickly pressed a tissue up to her face.

  A girl entered the room, but at the glare she received from Niffy, she quickly backed out again.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Miss McKinnon said, and patted Amy soothingly on the back. ‘Things can work out in all sorts of unexpected ways. Your dad sounds really nice, really caring,’ she added.

  ‘Yeah,’ Amy sniffed.

  ‘It’s good of him to tell you all this, even if it is hard to deal with. At least you know exactly what’s going on. When my parents were having problems . . .’ Miss McKinnon hesitated.

  Amy and Niffy both looked at her expectantly, encouraging her to tell them more.

  ‘Well, they tried to keep it to themselves,’ Miss McKinnon said, ‘but then we would catch little whispers and rumours and we were sure something terrible was happening. I think it’s much better if families can get things out in the open. Then you can all pull together.’

  ‘There’s only me, my dad and Gran,’ Amy said. ‘We’ve always been very close.’

  ‘That’s really nice,’ Miss McKinnon said.

  ‘I just wish there was some way I could help him,’ Amy exclaimed. ‘I don’t want another penny of pocket money. I need to make some money and help him.’

  ‘I’m sure he doesn’t expect—’ Miss McKinnon began.

  But Niffy interrupted with the idea: ‘eBay, Aim, you’ve got loads and loads of really nice things. You never wear even half of it. Why don’t you have a sale on eBay?’

  Amy seemed to brighten at this idea. ‘Yes,’ she said, looking round at Niffy with a slight smile. ‘Yeah . . . there’s plenty of stuff. Even here at school. Then when we pack up the flat, I can get more. That’s a good idea. Unlike the blooming stupid slime, you nit-brain!’

  ‘Are boarding-house girls allowed to have a Saturday or Sunday job?’ Miss McKinnon wondered out loud. ‘Because I used to work in a grocery shop one day a week from the age of fourteen.’

  ‘Do you know?’ Amy asked Niffy.

  ‘I’m sure there was someone in the Upper Sixth who used to work behind a make-up counter . . .’ Niffy said. ‘I think she did it for the freebies.’

  ‘And if you pick somewhere that also has a branch in Glasgow . . .?’ Miss McKinnon began.

  ‘Then I can maybe transfer and do more hours during the holidays . . . what a fantastic idea! Maybe I can get a job in that designer shop: Cruise?’ was Amy’s next thought. ‘Staff discount,’ she pointed out.

  ‘Errrrr . . . you’re supposed to be making money,’ Niffy reminded her, ‘not finding new ways to spend it.’

  ‘How did it work out for your family?’ Amy turned back to Miss McKinnon. ‘Did you turn the corner? Did everything work out OK in the end?’

  ‘Well . . . my mum and dad’s shop went bust. We lost the big flat above it . . . and for a while it did feel as if we were left with absolutely nothing.’

  Amy’s eyes widened.

  ‘I know, it sounds terrible . . . and it was terrible for a bit. But that’s when we moved to Barra. Mum and Dad ran the village shop for the owner, who was ill. They’d seen an ad in a newspaper. And we all loved Barra . . . all my family live there still. We own that shop and a café now. It’s just me who wanted to spread my wings and have an adventure, so I came to Edinburgh.’

  ‘Wow . . . you lost everything and moved to an island,’ Amy repeat
ed. This wasn’t exactly an enticing prospect to Amy. She was an urban girl who didn’t like to ever be too far away from a place where she could buy lipgloss.

  ‘So long as everyone stays healthy and positive, you can all cope with the money problems. The changes don’t have to be bad.’

  ‘I don’t think I really want you to move to an island though, Amy,’ Niffy said. ‘How I am supposed to put a reasonable hockey team together without you?’

  ‘Shut up!’ Amy said. ‘There’s no way my dad can open a nightclub on an island . . . unless it’s Ibiza, obviously.’

  When Amy and Niffy had finished talking to Miss McKinnon, they walked down the corridor towards the stairs up to Iris dorm and that was when Niffy made her surprising announcement.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about it a lot,’ she began, ‘and I’ve told Finn that if you and him still want to go out . . . then you should. I’ll get used to it.’

  ‘What?!’ Amy said, trying to keep the delighted grin from her face. ‘Really?’

  ‘There’s only one condition . . .’

  ‘Oh no . . . we have to keep it as an online-only romance?’ Amy asked.

  ‘No! You’re not allowed to have one of those bad break-ups where you can never, ever speak to each other again. Because that would be really awkward.’

  ‘Deal!’

  Chapter Seventeen

  ON SUNDAY MORNING it was very quiet in the St Jude’s study room. Almost every desk was occupied with girls busy studying for their exams.

  The distant sound of the pay phone ringing was followed by a girl bursting in through the study door and calling out: ‘Gina, phone for you!’

  Gina got up with a look of surprise.

  ‘Dermot’s missing you,’ Amy whispered to her.

  ‘Must be,’ Gina said, smiling. ‘It’s too early for California.’

  She ran along the hallway to the pay phone and picked up the receiver with a cheerful: ‘Hi!’

  ‘Errrrrm . . .’

  The sound of someone clearing their throat was followed by a male, deep-voiced, ‘Hi, Gina? Is that you?’

  ‘Yes . . . who is this?’ Gina asked, suspecting it was Dermot, but not quite certain enough to say his name.

  ‘Hi, it’s Dermot’s friend, Callum. We met in the café. Remember?’

  Callum! Callum?

  ‘Hi . . . is everything OK with Dermot?’ Gina asked, thinking he must be calling to tell her something.

  ‘Everything’s fine as far as I know . . .’

  Now Gina felt a wave of strange nervousness pass over her.

  ‘So how are you?’ Callum asked, sounding relaxed and friendly, as if he phoned her every day of the week.

  ‘Me? I’m great. I’m studying right now . . .’ she replied, ‘How about you?’ she asked, sounding stiff and formal, just because she was so surprised.

  Why was Callum calling her? And why did she feel so . . . so tingly and jumpy and electrified by it?

  ‘Are you working hard?’ Callum asked, totally at ease.

  ‘Mmmm . . . kinda . . .’ Gina answered. ‘How about you?’ she repeated, still thinking frantically: Why is Callum calling me??

  ‘Neither of us is working as hard as Dermot though, are we?’ Callum asked, and gave a little laugh.

  ‘No, I guess not.’

  ‘He is so busy . . .’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘It must make it hard to get to see him,’ Callum ventured.

  ‘Well, I guess . . . I saw him at home on Friday, but only because I promised to help him revise.’

  ‘But you’ve no plans for today?’ was Callum’s next question.

  ‘No . . . well . . .’

  Gina felt her heart speed up slightly because she had a feeling she knew what he was going to say next.

  ‘I just wondered if I could take you somewhere fun? You know, maybe the cinema or something . . . take your mind off the big bad Mock exams . . . at least for an hour or two?’

  ‘Oh!’

  ‘Or have you ever been out to South Queensferry?’ Callum asked. ‘It’s right on the water – there’s a brilliant view of the bridges, you’ll have to bring your camera – and a place that does great fish and chips.’

  ‘Oh . . .’ Gina repeated. ‘No, I’ve never been out there.’

  ‘You’ll love it! We could take the bus down . . .’

  Gina knew she would have to say no because – what would Dermot think? Plus, she wasn’t allowed out on Sundays right now, except on school business.

  Was Callum really phoning because he was interested in her? This wasn’t because maybe he wanted to see Amy or Rosie again? But he hadn’t mentioned them. He hadn’t suggested they should come along with her.

  ‘Callum . . . did Dermot give you my number?’

  ‘No! I looked it up. I don’t think Dermot will mind though. He’s too busy. He’s very, very busy . . .’ He gave a little laugh. ‘C’mon, we’ll have fun. I promise you you’ll have a very good time with me.’

  ‘But I can’t today, I’m going to watch my friend play in a hockey match.’

  This was true and she was relieved to have the excuse.

  ‘What about next weekend?’ Callum asked immediately. ‘Have you got any plans?’

  ‘I’m going to be studying very hard.’

  ‘Poor Gina . . . everyone needs a break now and then, you know. Why don’t I give you my number, and if you change your mind, just call.’

  Gina and Amy huddled together in the spectator stands to keep warm. Going to watch Niffy’s Scottish squad hockey practise because it was the one way to get out of the boarding house on a Sunday afternoon during revision hell had seemed like a good idea at the time.

  But now, Amy and Gina were so freezing cold that watching girls weave hockey balls around cones down on the pitch below, had lost even the slight allure it had held.

  ‘Only another ten minutes,’ Amy told Gina as she glanced at her watch, ‘so enough about me and my dad’s collapsing empire. Thank you for all your support . . . but now the Gina, Dermot and Callum love triangle. More details . . . more juicy details please!’

  ‘Shut up!’ Gina insisted. ‘I’ve told you enough!’

  ‘So did you tell him maybe one day . . . or did you give him the brutal “never”?’

  ‘Well, you know, I didn’t want to hurt his feelings,’ Gina confessed.

  ‘Or yours.’ Amy nudged her friend. ‘He’s very cute. Cuter even than Dermot.’

  ‘I know, but Dermot is so nice and Dermot is my boyfriend . . . and Dermot squeezed my boob!’ Gina blurted out.

  This made Amy burst out laughing. ‘In a good way?’

  ‘I’m sorry: is there a good way? I dunno. It was just like . . . like having my boob kneaded like a lump of dough or something.’

  Amy snorted. ‘On top of your clothes . . . or under?’ she had to ask.

  ‘On top. Oh no . . . under? Is that going to be the next thing?’ Gina screwed up her face.

  ‘Depends,’ Amy began. ‘Depends on what you say. You are allowed to say something. You are allowed to tell him what you think. What with it being your body and everything . . .’

  ‘Have you had your boobs kneaded?’ Gina wanted to know.

  ‘Yeah, I thought it was quite nice. Anything that feels nice is OK. Anything that feels uncomfortable, you need to say, Gina.’

  ‘But it’s uncomfortable to say . . .’ Gina began.

  ‘Fine, just let whoever do whatever because you’re too polite to say anything.’

  ‘But what do I say?’

  ‘Whatever you want to. Say: “Ouch!” or “Could you be more tickly?” or “Ooooooh, baby, I like it like this,”’ Amy added in a breathless voice.

  ‘Shut up!’ Gina slapped her arm.

  ‘So, Callum or Dermot?’ Amy asked. ‘Who would you rather have squeezing at your boobs?’

  Gina quickly said, ‘Dermot, of course,’ but a blush of embarrassment spread up over her face. ‘No. Neither. It felt weird having him do
that. And you know what? When we kissed, that didn’t feel quite right either . . .’

  ‘Uh oh . . . is the great romance on the rocks?’

  ‘Amy!’ Gina protested. ‘Anyway, what about Finn?’ she asked, sure that this would change the subject.

  ‘Oh . . . well . . . I’ve emailed him to see if he wants to meet up the next time he’s in Edinburgh . . . now that Niffy has . . .’

  ‘Decided to let you guys get back together,’ Gina finished the sentence.

  ‘But I’ve not heard back.’

  ‘Maybe he didn’t get the email?’

  ‘Well . . . we’ll see.’

  A whistle blast down on the pitch below signalled the end of the squad practice session.

  ‘C’mon.’ Amy stood up and gestured for Gina to follow. ‘Let’s go find Nif and catch the bus back.’

  The bus stop close to the sports stadium was mobbed. Teenagers in all different versions of sports kit were waiting for buses to take them all over town. As well as hockey squad practice, football teams, rugby teams and badminton trials had been going on this afternoon.

  In the dim twilight, Gina was the one who spotted Amy’s very handsome ex-crush first.

  She turned away quickly, hoping that Jason Hernandez hadn’t spotted her, and hissed under her breath at Amy: ‘Don’t look over my shoulder, I’ve just seen Jason.’

  But too late, the deep, confident voice was already breaking over them.

  ‘Hey, St Jude’s girls?’ he asked. ‘I’ve definitely seen you all somewhere before, haven’t I?’

  Gina, Amy and Niffy all turned to see Jason and a couple of his St Lennox’s friends, including the horrible, pompous twit Charlie Fotheringham-whatsit, walking over towards them.

  Jason, in a rugby shirt and tracksuit trousers, his dark hair ruffled with sweat, action and the cool wind, looked just as jaw-droppingly handsome as ever.

  ‘Hi,’ Gina said coolly. Amy had been crazy about Jason, but Jason had only ever been lukewarm about Amy, with the result that Amy’s feelings had been deeply hurt. So there was no way any friend of Amy’s was going to be pleased to see Jason.

  ‘Jason, always a pleasure to bump in to you,’ Amy said, hands on hips, as sarcastically as she could possibly manage, even though she looked slightly shaken by the sight of him.