Just Peachy

by Jean Ure

  Crushingly I said, “She’s already had the doubtful pleasure of meeting you.”

  “You don’t have to be rude,” said Flora. “We were just trying to make conversation.”

  Coop, edging out of the door with a can of Coke in one hand and a fistful of biscuits in the other, was stopped in his tracks by Millie.

  “If Peachy has a birthday party, you will come to it, won’t you?” she said.

  A glazed look appeared in Coop’s eyes. He said, “Yeah. Right,” and shot sideways out of the door.

  “I think you frightened him,” I said.

  “Didn’t frighten us,” boasted Fergus. “We’ll come to your birthday party.”

  “Dunno that you’ll be invited,” I said.

  “We’ll come anyway,” said Flora. “We like parties.” She turned to Fergus. “Don’t we?”

  “Love ’em,” said Fergus.

  With that, they both dissolved into peals of mad giggles and followed Coop out of the room.

  “Now look what you’ve done,” I told Millie. “Who wants them to come?”

  “It would be an extra boy,” said Millie.

  I said, “Huh! Call that a boy?”

  “Coop is.”

  This time there was no mistaking it: she had turned bright pink.

  “Omigod!” I said. “You haven’t gone and fallen for him?”

  She had! I could tell.

  “Honestly,” I grumbled, “I knew I should never have let you set eyes on him.”

  Mum and Charlie arrived home shortly after I’d seen Millie up the road to her bus stop.

  “Hello!” said Mum. “What’s in the black sack?”

  “Clothes,” I said. “For Oxfam. I’ve been having a clear-out.”

  “Really?” Mum opened the sack and peered in. “Oh, Peachy!” She pulled out a particularly repulsive blue dress that I had never worn. “You can’t give this away!”

  “Dead right,” said Charlie. “Who’d take it?”

  “But it’s pretty!” protested Mum.

  Charlie made a loud vomiting noise. Before I knew it, I had made one too.

  “Mum, it’s disgusting,” I said.

  Mum sighed. “Oh, well, have it your own way. I take it you found something to your liking at Gina’s?”

  “Something pretty,” said Charlie.

  “Where is it?” said Mum. “Let’s have a look.”

  I said, “Um…”

  “Well? Come on!” said Mum. “Let me see it.”

  Charlie gave a shrill cackle of laughter. “Obviously not pretty!”

  “Oh, Peachy,” said Mum. “You haven’t gone all grungy, have you?”

  I swallowed. “The thing is…”

  “What?” said Mum.

  “The thing is I – I didn’t actually buy anything. For me. I thought about it and I decided I had quite enough clothes already and that it would be obscene to buy any more.”

  Mum blinked. Even Charlie broke off what she was doing and turned to stare.

  “I take it,” said Mum, “that you did buy something? Or did you put the money in a charity box?”

  “Um… well… n-no. Not exactly,” I said. “I – um – bought something for Millie.”

  “You bought something for Millie?”

  There was a pause.

  “She needed something,” I pleaded. “For the party. Mum, she doesn’t have many clothes and there are going to be boys and—”

  “Oh, swoon!” said Charlie. “Boys!”

  “Well, there are,” I said. “And it’s not fair if she can’t look nice, cos I’ve got so much and she’s got hardly anything and – and I thought you wouldn’t mind if I… if I…”

  My voice trailed away.

  “You thought I wouldn’t mind,” said Mum, “if you spent the money on buying something for someone else.”

  “Um – well,” I said. “Yes.”

  “I see.”

  Long silence. Charlie rolled her eyes and went back to whatever it was she was doing. Texting, from the look of it. I waited nervously for Mum to say something. At the time, when I’d gone marching up to the counter and told Gina which pair of jeans I wanted, it had seemed absolutely the right thing to do. The only thing to do. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that Mum might look at it rather differently. Somehow, standing there in front of her, it suddenly seemed all too likely. Millie might be my friend – my very best friend – but that didn’t mean I had the right to go spending Mum’s money on her. I could see that now. I’d just got a bit carried away.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered.

  Mum shook her head. “Strange girl,” she said. “Go and put that bag of clothes in the garage, I’ll take them in tomorrow.”

  I grabbed the bag and ran. Mum is really surprising at times. I guess as mums go she has to be pretty special, even if she doesn’t always properly listen or pay attention. Five children must be a lot for anyone to cope with, especially when two of them are twins and keep screeching with mad laughter for no apparent reason. Come to that, I should think Dad on his own must be a lot to cope with. Really, it’s a wonder Mum is still sane.

  I made a mental note to tell Gran next time we spoke: Mum has a lot to cope with. It seemed important that Gran should know.

  Saturday came: the day of the party. I was so excited I lay awake half the night thinking about it. Getting myself into a bit of a state, to tell the truth. It was ages since I’d been to a party! Last time had been way back at the beginning of Year 6, when we were still young enough to eat iced buns and jellies, and play games. I didn’t imagine you would eat iced buns and jellies when you were in Year 7. Or play games. It would be, like, more teenage kind of stuff. Like dancing maybe, if there were boys. But I just wasn’t sure.

  Half way through the afternoon Millie texted to remind me that she and her dad were picking me up at seven o’clock, so B redy!

  I immediately rang her. “Is seven o’clock early enough?”

  Millie assured me that it was. “It’ll only take ten minutes from your place.”

  “But seven o’clock is when it starts!”

  “We don’t want to be first though.”

  “Oh, God! No!” I completely agreed. Getting there first would be embarrassing, like just too eager, and specially if a boy arrived almost immediately afterwards and we were left on our own with him. I didn’t know how to talk to boys! All very well Millie saying I’d got brothers, but you really couldn’t count Coop or Fergus as boys.

  “Best get there when there’s other people so we can mingle,” said Millie.

  I said, “Yes! Mingle.”

  “’Cept not with Zoe and her mob.”

  “Yuck, no,” I said. “Horrible!”

  “Wouldn’t mingle with them if they went on their bended knee and begged me.”

  “So who else is going to be there?” I said. “Do we know?”

  “Halena? Brigid? Jolene? Not to mention boys!”

  Millie giggled, so I giggled, too. It was like a kind of automatic reaction. Boys! Giggle, giggle.

  “You don’t think there’ll be dancing?” I said.

  “Dunno,” said Millie.

  “Cos I’m not sure I can dance!”

  I waited for Millie to inform me, in her usual bracing fashion, that, “Anyone can dance. There’s nothing to it.” Instead she said, “Me neither!” She sounded a bit worried. It was only then that I realised: Millie was just as anxious as I was. It surprised me. Millie was always so sure of herself. Far more than me. But in spite of her confidence I knew that she sometimes still felt a bit of an outsider, what with being the only one in the class on a scholarship, and all the rest of us being what she called posh. It comforted me a little to know I wasn’t the only one feeling apprehensive.

  “Know what?” she said. “You should’ve asked Charlie.”

  I was puzzled. “Asked her what?”

  “To show you how to dance! Then you could have shown me.”

  “She’d laugh,” I said. “I mean, i
t’s stupid! Everyone knows how to dance.”

  “’Cept us.”

  “God!” I said. “We’re pathetic!”

  But at least we could be pathetic together. I said this to Millie, and she agreed.

  “We’ll stick to each other like glue. Right?”

  I said, “Right!”

  I’d hoped that when the time grew near I’d be able to lurk in my room, spying out of the window until I saw Millie and her dad turn up, when I would instantly tear downstairs at the speed of light crying, “Mum, I’m off!” and get out of the house without anyone seeing me, and specially not Dad. In spite of everything, I still had pangs of guilt. Unfortunately, as I hurtled down the stairs I bumped slap bang into Flora, hurtling up.

  “Your friend’s here,” she said.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I was aware.”

  “Just telling you,” said Flora. “She’s all dressed up in those trousers.”

  I was outraged. How did she know about the trousers? Honestly! You couldn’t do anything in this family without everyone getting to hear about it. Unless it was something you wanted them to hear, like me and Ben training for the Paralympics, in which case they weren’t interested.

  “The ones you got her for the party?” said Flora. “I s’pose that’s where you’re off to. To the party. I’m going to Dad’s birthday dinner. We’re all going to Dad’s birthday dinner. All of us except you. Poor Dad! What—”

  “Why don’t you just be quiet?” I said.

  Flora gave a screech of laughter and scudded up the stairs on all fours. Seriously abnormal.

  Dad was in the hall, hovering at the front door.

  “I think your lift has arrived,” he said. “I’ll come and see you off.”

  I squirmed. “You don’t have to.”

  “Don’t be silly,” said Dad. “Of course I do.”

  I did so hope he wasn’t going to be rude. Well, not rude, exactly, but sometimes he can say things. Like if he was still offended by me choosing to go off with Millie and her dad instead of being at La Cigale with the rest of the family.

  I needn’t have worried. When he wants to, Dad can be quite charming. He said hello to Millie – he even managed to remember her name, which Mum never did – and he shook hands with her dad. He even thanked him for letting me stay the night, and told me and Millie to have a good time. Millie, in her special posh voice, said, “I do hope you enjoy your dinner.”

  Dad seemed amused. “I’m sure I shall,” he said, and he waved cheerfully at us as we pulled away.

  “Well!” Millie bounced round in the front seat to talk to me. “He didn’t sound too cross.”

  Her dad chuckled. “You want to hear him on the radio, blasting away at people! I guess it’s all part of the act, eh?”

  I am never quite sure whether it is or it isn’t, but I grinned reassuringly at Millie and agreed that Dad wasn’t too cross. In fact, not really cross at all. It was Mum who had been so put out.

  “So now all we’ve got to worry about – ” Millie mouthed it at me – “is boys.”

  “I heard that,” said her dad. “And I’m here to tell you it’s one thing you don’t have to worry about. Take it from me – the lads’ll be far more scared of you than you are of them!”

  “It’s not that I’m scared of them,” whispered Millie, as we got out of the car. “It’s just that I don’t know what sort of things they like to talk about!”

  “Football?” I said.

  “Is that what Coop talks about?”

  I said, “No, but you can’t go by him.”

  “So what does he talk about?”

  I stared at her, appalled. She really did fancy him!

  “I mean, other than music?” she said. “He must talk about something.”

  I didn’t have time to answer her as the front door was flung open and the Mouse stood there, beaming at us.

  “Quick, quick,” she said. “You’re the last to arrive!”

  She led the way down some steps to an enormous room in the basement. The boys, all six of them, were grouped together in a corner, the girls in little separate clusters dotted about. All except for Zoe, who was boldly talking to a boy who looked like an older version of the Mouse. Obviously her brother.

  Millie clutched at my arm. “Stick like glue!”

  We attached ourselves to one of the little clusters.

  “Cool,” said Brigid, nodding at Millie’s trousers. Halena and Jolene both agreed.

  “Where’d you get them?” said Halena.

  “I…” Millie shot me a glance as if seeking approval. “A shop in the market?”

  “Gina’s,” I said. I squeezed Millie’s arm reassuringly. I wasn’t going to spoil things for her. The others didn’t need to know that my mum had paid for the trousers.

  Everyone seemed to admire them. People kept coming over and saying how cool they were and asking where they’d come from. I wondered for a moment if perhaps I’d made a mistake. I should have bought the trousers for myself! But I couldn’t really regret it, Millie was so happy.

  “Hey!” Brigid nudged at me. “There’s a boy over there keeps staring at you.”

  My head zipped round. I said, “Which boy?”

  Brigid let out an anguished squeal. “You don’t have to make it so obvious!”

  “OK.” I let my eyes glaze over, like I was simply lost in thought. “Tell me which one!”

  “The one with the dark hair – DON’T LOOK!”

  I said, “I’m not.”

  “I am,” said Halena. She did so. “Phwoar!” She turned back, giggling. “GLD, man!”

  “What are you talking about?” I said.

  “Good-looking dude!”

  And he was interested in me?

  “He’s still staring,” said Millie. “Oh!” She gave a little squeak. “He’s coming over!”

  “Probably wants to talk to you,” I muttered. Millie in her cool trousers. Which I could have been wearing!

  “It’s not me,” said Millie. She gave me a sharp jab with her elbow. “It’s you, dimbo!”

  Omigod, it really was! He stood there in front of me, looking awkward, like he’d had to pluck up his courage to come over. I felt a bit awkward myself. I knew that everyone was watching, even if they were pretending not to.

  “Excuse me, but are you Peaches McBride?” he said.

  I swallowed and said yes. My heart was already sinking. Someone must have told him about Dad. He’d obviously come over to ask me for an autograph or an introduction. I waited for him to say how it was his big ambition to work in the media.

  “I’m Zach,” he said. I braced myself. “Zach Whitaker. I’ve got a little brother who’s madly in love with you!”

  Pardon me??? My face must have registered a total blank.

  “Ben?” he said. “Christmas party? Paralympics?”

  “Oh,” I said. “Ben!”

  Zach grinned. He seemed relieved that I remembered.

  “He’s been driving us nuts ever since. It’s all he can talk about… his friend Beedth and the Baralim!”

  He imitated the way his brother spoke, but he did it like he was really fond of him, not making fun.

  “I’m really glad that he enjoyed it,” I said. I had become aware that Millie and the others had discreetly melted away, leaving me on my own with Zach. I felt an embarrassed giggle bubbling up inside me and had to choke it back.

  “Mum was ever so grateful,” said Zach. “She was really worried in case things didn’t work out. Ben doesn’t always take to people. Like, if they can’t understand him, or treat him like he’s an idiot?”

  “Oh, but he’s not!” I said.

  “It’s what people think. Just because he can’t talk properly.”

  I remembered the Mouse telling me how she found Ben difficult. “They don’t try hard enough,” I said. “You have to work at it. Like, just at first I couldn’t properly understand him, but then after a while I got used to it and we had these really long conversations
.” Well, sort of conversations.

  Zach grinned. “That’s why he’s fallen for you! Honestly, it’s Beedth said this and Beedth said that and Beedth did it this way. He keeps nagging me to help with his training. He says he’s going to be a willcher adleed.”

  “Wheelchair athlete!” I shouted it out triumphantly. Heads snapped round in my direction.

  “I took him up the park the other day and he got all tetchy and impatient. Kept telling me how Beedth didn’t do it that way! Do like Beedth!”

  “All we did was just race up and down,” I said. I giggled at the memory. “We nearly ran over Sister Agatha!”

  “I know, he told me. He said you’d rud owr a dud.”

  “Run over a nun!” The heads whipped round again. Zach laughed.

  “He was quite proud of it. But he seems to think you’re going to be there with him, at the next Paralympics. He reckons you’re going to race round together.”

  “What, with me pushing?”

  “That’s what he reckons.”

  “Oh.” I could feel a frown crinkling my forehead. “P’raps I shouldn’t have gone putting the idea into his head?”

  “No, that’s OK. He knows it’s only a game. It’s just that I obviously don’t play it properly. Dunno what you did any different—”

  “I just… raced him up and down,” I said.

  “Same here. But I’m not you! I don’t suppose—” Zach hesitated. I wasn’t sure, but I thought he might be blushing. It was hard to tell, cos he wasn’t pale like me. When I blush I glow like a beacon. “I don’t suppose you’d feel like coming to say hello to him some time?”

  Help! Now he’d got me at it. Glowing like a beacon.

  He obviously misread the signs. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Shouldn’t have asked. I don’t even know where you live. I’m just next door, but it’s probably way too far for you to come.”

  “No,” I said, “I’m quite near. I could get a bus.”

  Quickly he said, “You wouldn’t have to do that. My mum could pick you up.”

  “Well, or my mum could give me a lift. But the bus is quite easy,” I said. “I like going on buses.”

  “Yeah, me too,” said Zach.

  “My friend Millie,” I said, “her dad’s a bus driver.”

  I looked round for her, but she seemed to have vanished. And then I saw her, standing with Brigid. They were chatting happily with a couple of boys. So much for Millie saying she didn’t know how to talk to them! Her new trousers must have given her confidence. But then I was also chatting happily to a boy. When I didn’t stop to think about it and embarrass myself.