Secrets at St Jude’s: Rebel Girl

by Carmen Reid

  ‘I don’t think we’ll be too much longer,’ her dad called from the kitchen, where he was wrapping up glasses and brewing a fresh pot of coffee.

  This was a bit optimistic, Amy couldn’t help thinking. By the look of this room and the kitchen, there were still hours and hours of packing ahead.

  She picked up another handful of books and papers and dumped them into the box. ‘Let’s just keep going,’ she said and a busy forty minutes or so passed before Amy was startled out of her sad thoughts by a loud brrrrrrring on the flat’s buzzer.

  ‘The door,’ her dad called out. ‘That’ll be the huge Valentine’s delivery for you, will it? Does boy of the moment know your home address, and should I be worried?’

  Amy looked up in surprise. ‘There is no boy of the moment . . . I’m not expecting anything.’

  ‘Well, let’s see who it is.’

  He pressed the intercom button. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Special delivery,’ the voice replied.

  ‘Come on up.’

  Amy’s dad grinned at her. ‘Sounds very exciting.’

  Amy couldn’t help it, she began to grin too. She felt her heartbeat skip about a little.

  It was probably nothing. It was probably just another delivery of boxes that her dad had forgotten about, or something ultra boring.

  But then, maybe . . . just maybe . . . could it possibly be Finn? Was he finally going to surprise her?

  They could hear the lift whirring up the ten floors towards them.

  ‘I’m sure it’s not for me,’ Amy told her dad.

  But he just waggled his eyebrows.

  Maybe he’d done this? Maybe he’d ordered something just to cheer her up? That was the only possible explanation, wasn’t it?

  The doorbell ping-ed.

  Her dad went to the door and opened it wide: wide enough for Amy to see an enormous bunch of bright yellow sunflowers.

  Then three faces appeared from behind the flowers.

  ‘Surprise!’ Gina called out.

  ‘Happy Valentine’s!’ Min announced.

  ‘Your packing crew has arrived,’ Niffy added.

  ‘You shouldn’t have come!’ Amy kept telling her friends as they helped her and her dad to blitz through the rest of the packing. Practised trans-Atlantic flier Gina turned out to be genius at making entire piles of stuff just disappear.

  Throughout the packathon, Amy was brought up to speed with all the Valentine’s news: Niffy’s flowers from Angus (no!), Gina and Min’s cards, Mrs Knebworth and the wine bottle.

  ‘Unfortunately Jaguar man turns out to be her cousin,’ Niffy said, pulling a face.

  ‘No!’ Amy said, looking horrified at the mistake they’d made. ‘So there’s no way there’s anything romantic going on?’

  ‘He’s not her cousin – he’s her dead husband’s cousin,’ Min corrected.

  ‘Still . . . please tell me that you managed to stop her getting the bottle?’ Amy asked.

  ‘Er . . . no. Min only told us very last minute,’ Niffy explained.

  ‘Don’t blame me. I keep telling you to leave her alone,’ Min huffed.

  ‘Well, anyway, she came and asked us if we had anything to do with it,’ Niffy went on. ‘We said that we didn’t and then she looked a bit odd and said something about interesting new developments. That’s when we decided we’d better get right out of her way and Gina had the brilliant idea of saying you’d phoned up in tears, and could we all go over to Glasgow to see you?’

  ‘Oh. I see! So you’re not really being nice, you just needed an escape!’ Amy said, but with a smile.

  ‘Aim,’ Niffy said, smiling back, ‘you know we are only here for you. It’s Valentine’s, we couldn’t leave you here all day like a great big green gooseberry.’

  Amy’s dad snorted with laughter at this, and Amy’s smile broke into a grin. No matter why they’d come, it was very, very comforting to have them here.

  ‘So what time are you meeting Greg?’ Amy asked Min.

  Min coloured up. ‘Seven o’clock, Dermot’s café.’

  Gina took out her phone and texted Dermot: WE ARE COMING TO YOUR CAFÉ ABOUT 7, VALENTINE, WATCH OUT!

  LOOK 4WARD, VALENTINE, Dermot replied.

  ‘And Angus?’ Gina looked up at Niffy. ‘Have you phoned him?’

  ‘I don’t know . . .’ Niffy began. ‘I don’t know if I really want . . . What about my hair?’

  ‘Oh, please!’ Amy interrupted. ‘Ever since Angus left for France, you’ve been mooching about like a kicked puppy. Now take my phone and ring him or else I will blooming well do it for you!’

  Niffy took the mobile but just held it in her hand, as if she expected it to blow up or something.

  ‘You have brought his number, haven’t you?’ Amy asked. ‘Please tell me that you’ve done that.’

  ‘Yeah!’ Niffy huffed and then went in search of the tatty canvas shoulder bag which she carried about. ‘Just don’t all listen, OK? In fact, don’t listen at all.’

  ‘Fine. Go lock yourself in the bathroom,’ Amy instructed. ‘Phone Angus from the jacuzzi if you want to.’

  ‘Hey, no messing with my jacuzzi,’ Amy’s dad teased. ‘The luxury bathroom’s the reason I’ve got someone paying me a lot of rent for this place.’

  ‘Dad, would you mind if I went back to Edinburgh tonight?’ Amy asked. ‘We’ll help you get everything into the van and over to Gran’s, but then . . . if you could just make a little call to Mrs K and tell her we’re having dinner with you and that we’ll be back at the boarding house by eleven, we can then treat ourselves to a nice little evening—’

  ‘On the tiles?’ Amy’s dad interrupted.

  ‘No! There’s this café and there are a few friends . . .’ Amy began.

  ‘You mean, there’s this wine bar and there are these boys,’ her dad translated.

  ‘Maybe, but we are very, very good, very well-behaved St Jude’s girls,’ Amy wheedled, ‘and haven’t we been so nice to pack for you all day?’

  ‘Get away!’ Amy’s dad said with a smile.

  ‘Go on,’ Amy pleaded.

  ‘A nice, quiet wine bar? With some nice, quiet boys?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m not going to the wine bar, I’m staying in the café,’ Min pointed out.

  ‘We’ll all be in the café till it shuts at nine . . .’ Amy said.

  Her dad took his mobile out of his pocket. ‘You better be very, very good. If anything goes wrong, I will be in deep trouble with Mrs K and no man anywhere on the face of the earth wants to be in trouble with Mrs K. She is one scary lady.’

  This made everyone giggle. Amy’s dad turned away and went to the kitchen to call, just as Niffy came out of the bathroom.

  She was blushing and smiling.

  ‘Are you going to see him?’ Amy asked.

  Niffy nodded.

  ‘Was he pleased to hear from you?’

  Niffy nodded.

  ‘Are you going to tell us anything else?’ Gina asked.

  Niffy shook her head and blushed some more.

  Amy’s dad came back into the room. ‘OK, you can have your night out in Edinburgh. But you will be back at the boarding house by eleven o’clock sharp!’

  Before anyone could cheer, he added: ‘I didn’t speak to Mrs Knebs, by the way, apparently she’s not in tonight. I spoke to Miss McKinnon.’

  ‘The Neb has gone out? On Valentine’s? On a date?!’ Amy wondered out loud.

  It was a thrilling, horrifying prospect.

  ‘Brave, brave man,’ Amy’s dad said. ‘Look, forget about helping me to pack the van. I’ll take you all out for a quick pizza, then drive you to the station. You’ll need something filling before you go off and drink all those . . . coffees.’ He raised his eyebrows.

  ‘But, Dad,’ Amy protested, ‘we can’t go out and get a pizza now. First of all, we have to get ready!’

  ‘Oh – how could I be so daft?!’

  Gina, Min and Niffy all looked at each other and shrugged.

 
‘We’ve not brought anything to change into,’ Gina pointed out.

  ‘Better come to my room then,’ Amy said with a smile. ‘I have boxes and boxes of stuff that is desperate for one last outing before it disappears.’

  The four girls rushed in the direction of Amy’s room with something which, to Amy’s bemused dad, sounded almost like a battle-cry.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  FOUR VERY PRETTY, very dressed-up girls marching through Glasgow’s Queen Street station carrying sunflowers caused a little bit of a stir at 6 p.m. on Valentine’s night.

  ‘Are you looking for a date?’

  ‘Will I do?’

  ‘How’s about coming out with me?’

  . . . were amongst the questions the girls were asked by brave passers-by.

  ‘Are you jokin’ us?’ was Amy’s standard, pithy response. Sometimes she even risked: ‘Yeah, if Frankenstein’s not available, I’ll let you know.’

  Everyone was dressed head to toe from Amy’s beautiful wardrobe. Min was in a floaty fuchsia pink dress and black pointy boots, Gina wore skin-tight jeans with a blue satin top and lots of fake gold. Amy had been almost tempted to take the feathers out for a crazy whirl around the town, but instead she’d plumped for a sparkly red tunic over lace leggings and shiny black shoe-boots.

  The most unbelievable change was in Niffy.

  Amy had gelled and styled the poor blobby orange hair, Amy had clipped on earrings, applied lip-gloss, eyeliner . . . Amy had somehow coaxed Niffy into tight purple boots and a silvery grey sweater dress with a low V-back.

  Niffy now looked amazing. Unbelievably different and weirdly grown up. Because she was tall, in make-up and a dress, she suddenly looked in her late teens.

  She wasn’t entirely happy about the purple boots though. Although they were low, they had a narrow pointy heel and she kept tripping, slipping and generally cursing Amy.

  ‘How do you walk in these things?’ she complained. ‘You must be an acrobat. You’re going to have bunions when you’re an old lady.’

  ‘Shut up!’ Amy commanded. ‘At least I’m not already an old lady . . . like certain people.’

  On the train, they grabbed a table seat so they could all sit together. As the train pulled out of the station, Amy put her little patent handbag up on the table, opened the zip and brought out a small bottle of deep-pink nail varnish.

  ‘Valentine Pink,’ she announced, unscrewing the top from the bottle. ‘OK, who wants to be first?’

  After the forty-minute journey and a chilly fifteen-minute walk, the four dressed-up, made-up and carefully nail-varnished friends walked in through the doors of the Arts Café . . . just as soon as Amy had made last-minute hair arrangements to the nervous Min and Niffy.

  ‘You look lovely,’ she’d assured them. ‘Smile, walk tall and be gorgeous.’

  Gina was in front. She scanned the café and was amazed at how busy it was tonight. Just about every single table was taken and there was a queue of people at the counter.

  Tea lights in red glass holders and single pink roses in tiny vases had been set out on all the tables. There were heart-shaped decorations hanging up in all the windows, and the blackboard behind the counter promised: ‘Pink cupcakes, passion fruit slices and coffees made with love.’

  Gina looked around carefully. She could see Dermot – busy, busy at the coffee machine – but she couldn’t see anyone else she recognized. There was a knot of boys sitting at one of the tables, but not one of them was Angus. Then someone waved from a small table in the corner.

  ‘It’s Greg!’ Min said, her voice all high-pitched with nerves.

  ‘We’ll all go over and say hello,’ Gina said, understanding that Min might like them all to help her break the ice.

  ‘No sign of Angus then,’ Niffy said. Her voice sounded gloomy.

  ‘We’re totally on time for Min to meet Greg,’ Amy pointed out. ‘You told us that Angus said seven thirty so he’s still got half an hour to get here. And if he’s anything up to twenty minutes late, that’s acceptable.’

  Once Min had been dropped off at her cosy table for two with Greg, Gina, Amy and Niffy joined the queue at the counter.

  ‘Hi! We are totally rushed off our feet,’ were Dermot’s opening words as he spotted the girls. ‘Must be the heart-shaped chocolate sprinkles on the top of the coffees. People can’t get enough of them.’

  ‘Hello . . . Happy Valentine’s Day,’ Gina began. ‘Did you get my card?’

  ‘Yeah, it was very nice. Thank you,’ Dermot said, but he was distracted, busy taking money from another customer, then sticking an order note to a mug.

  ‘I got yours, thanks,’ Gina said, but she wasn’t sure if he had heard her or not. Never mind. She would get the chance to talk to him later when the rush had died down a bit.

  ‘Isn’t your dad here?’ she asked.

  ‘In the kitchen, knocking out more cupcakes,’ Dermot said. ‘He never, ever leaves me and Rachel here in charge on a Saturday night, but we’re so busy, about to run out of food . . . and my baking’s terrible, he has no choice. Big responsibility moment for me. What can I get you? Look, over there, table eleven’s coming free, run over and get it and I’ll bring your drinks over when I get a second.’

  Once Gina, Amy and Niffy were seated, Niffy couldn’t help taking another careful look around the café to see if there was any sign of Angus.

  ‘He said seven thirty!’ she reminded them.

  ‘Don’t fret,’ Amy instructed.

  Dermot came over with a tray. He was just about jogging, he was in such a hurry to drop off their drinks and get back to the counter.

  He plonked mugs down in front of them with a pink heart-shaped marshmallow in each, picked the rose out of the vase and handed it to Gina.

  ‘Happy Valentine’s,’ he said.

  ‘Ah, the romance,’ Gina teased, accepting the rose but putting it back into the vase.

  ‘Did you all get lots of cards?’ he asked Niffy and Amy.

  ‘Niffy got flowers,’ Gina pointed out.

  ‘Yeah, from some guy who hasn’t turned up yet,’ Niffy grumbled. ‘What is going on? What’s happened to him?’

  ‘Do you want to phone him?’ Amy offered her mobile.

  ‘No . . . not yet. Maybe in a bit.’

  ‘Gina, I’ve got something for you . . .’ Dermot added, turning to go back to the counter again. ‘Just give me a chance. Stay put. Don’t go anywhere.’

  This made Gina feel a little better. He had something for her. He had actually thought about her for one second, in between maths, history, English essays and coffee orders.

  ‘Look at Min and Greg,’ Amy pointed out. ‘They are so into each other. They’re leaning over the table, can’t take their eyes off each other, chatting away . . .’

  ‘About quantum relativity,’ Niffy added.

  ‘Whatever rings their bell,’ Amy said.

  When Dermot returned to their table, he was holding a large tray and as he set it down on the table in front of them, he gave a proud: ‘Da-dah.’

  On the tray was a heart-shaped cake covered in pink blotchy icing which looked touchingly home-made.

  ‘Oh, WOW!’ was the group response.

  ‘Amazing!’

  ‘Fantastic!’

  ‘That looks delicious,’ Gina told Dermot. ‘Please tell me you’re going to let us eat some right now.’

  ‘Yeah, you will share, won’t you, Gina?’ Niffy asked.

  ‘Sure! Of course.’

  As Dermot began to cut the cake and serve it out onto the little plates he’d brought, an extremely posh male voice boomed out from some distance away:

  ‘There’s the Nifster, her friends and even the Yank!’

  With a sinking heart, Gina realized that the awful Charlie Fotheringham-whatsit and two of his friends were heading in their direction.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  ‘DERMOT, I THINK you’d better go back to the serving counter,’ Gina hissed.

  The l
ast time Dermot and Charlie had run into each other, there had been a fight. A real fist-fight! Friends had rushed in to pull them apart, but both boys had nursed sore jaws and swollen cheeks for days afterwards.

  But it was too late. Charlie and his two friends were already at the table.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Dermot asked, looking up with an angry face. ‘Looking for Round Two, are you?’

  ‘You can’t keep the girls all to yourself, you know, we’re here to take them somewhere a bit more exciting,’ Charlie said smoothly.

  ‘We don’t want to go anywhere with you!’ Gina said, outraged at Charlie’s suggestion. He hadn’t even said hello but he was trying to get them to go with him.

  Charlie just ignored this; he looked over at Niffy and said, ‘Hello, Lou, I didn’t recognize you. Where’s your hair?’

  ‘And your trousers?’ one of his friends added.

  ‘Don’t be so rude!’ Amy put in.

  ‘We’re here with a message from Angus. He’s got held up having dinner with the oldsters at some friend’s house . . . but we’re to take you to the Victoria Street wine bar and he’ll meet you there.’

  ‘Suit yourself,’ Dermot said, and with a shrug he began to walk away from the table.

  Charlie leaned over, snatched up a teaspoon, filled it with a scoop of pink icing and flicked it at Dermot.

  The blob of icing arced through the air and hit Dermot on the shoulder with a small splat. Gina gasped, sure that Dermot was going to swivel round, bellow at Charlie and another ugly fight would kick off – this time in the café.

  Dermot paused.

  He must have known something had hit him, but to Gina’s relief he carried on walking. He clearly didn’t want trouble, so he was being big and walking away from it.

  Gina turned back to the table just in time to see the spoonfuls of icing Niffy and Amy had launched, hit Charlie squarely in the face.

  ‘Take that!’ Niffy said.

  ‘Yeah, you big idiot,’ Amy added.

  Charlie now had icing on his forehead and in his left eye.

  ‘WHAT?!’ he exclaimed.

  Launching at the cake, he picked up a knife now, cut off a slice and catapulted it in Amy and Niffy’s direction.