by Janis Mackay
“Hey, Randolph!” I shouted. “Come back.” But she didn’t, so I ran after her. “I said lice, not nice,” I muttered under my breath.
By the time I got to the bike shed, Agatha had gone right up to the uncool girl. “Hello,” Agatha said, “what is your name?”
“Hey, Randolph,” I said, feeling stupid, “come on.” I flashed a look at the girl, who lowered her book and peered over the top of it. You could hardly see her eyes for all the greasy hair hanging down over her face.
“Agnes,” she said, then hid behind her book again. I wondered how Agatha could think this girl looked nice when you couldn’t even see her.
“Randolph,” I said, sharper this time. “Let’s go.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Agnes,” Agatha said.
I felt like a major fool standing next to the girl nobody ever goes near. I thought about all the stories of lice and incurable diseases. I shifted back a step. But not Agatha – she stepped forward and was getting ready for the hand-shaking routine. To my total shock the shy girl smiled and shook Agatha’s hand.
“My name,” said Agatha, smiling broadly at her new chum, “is…”
“Randolph,” I cut in, fast. “He’s my cousin. He’s from London. Right then, Randolph. We have to go.”
But it was like I didn’t exist. These two weird girls just gazed at each other and went on shaking hands. I glanced from one to the other. They had the same coppery hair, except of course Agatha’s was now short and the uncool girl’s was all over her face. But then she shook her hair back and I could see her little upturned nose, quite like Agatha’s.
“Look!” I butted in. Will and Robbie had given up on the snowman and they were charging up the playground towards us. “Come on, Randolph, the bell’s going to go. We need to get back.”
I dragged Agatha away, but she kept gazing over her shoulder at the girl. “How lovely she is,” she murmured. “What a glorious thing today to make acquaintance with Agnes. When is the next break?”
“Never,” I muttered. Just then Will or Robbie threw a snowball and it landed on my back. I swung round, scooped up snow and hurled a snowball back. It hit Robbie hard on the arm.
“Ouch!” he yelled. “That hurt.”
Then the school bell rang. Agatha’s stupid pink ear-plugs must have fallen out. She flung her hands to her ears and screamed. Then she grabbed at me. “It’s ok, Agatha,” I said, forgetting all about Randolph. “It’s only the bell. It just means the end of break.”
“The end?” Her face was white as the snow.
“Well, for now,” I mumbled. Everyone gaped at us as they filed into the school building – especially Robbie, making a big show of rubbing his arm and looking wounded.
I steered the trembling Agatha into the corridor. I didn’t know how much more of this I could take. Just then, Agnes, the left out girl, passed us. She stopped and put a hand on Agatha’s trembling shoulder. “It’s just a silly bell,” she said, and instantly Agatha calmed down.
17
Agatha might have calmed down but not me. I was a jumping bag of nerves. No way could I handle a whole school day of this. During French I planned our escape. I would say I was going to show Randolph where the toilets were, then zoom, out we’d go, back to the peace and safety of the den.
Agatha, though, was looking rapt. She gazed at the teacher like she was in love with her and I watched her repeat the words: jaune, blue, noir, rouge… She must have felt my eyes on her. She turned round and beamed at me. Verte, blanche, rose…
“Randolph is giving me far more attention than you are, Saul,” Mrs Veitch said, striding down the aisle and glaring at me. “What is red?”
“Rose?” I said, thinking how the Valentine card I got from Mum said roses are red.
“Wrong,” she said, then swung round and smiled at Randolph. “You tell your cousin, Randolph.”
“Rouge,” replied Agatha, so pleased with herself I was scared she was going to jump up and down.
“Bravo,” said Mrs Veitch and strutted off. Her high heels went snap, snap, snap and my fingers on the desk went tap, tap, tap. The teacher stopped before she reached her desk, swung round, stared at me and said, “Stop that irritating noise.”
I couldn’t very well ask to go to the toilet now. So I sat glumly through French while Agatha hung on the teacher’s every word. I doodled on my jotter. It looked like a pirate jumping into the sea. I looked up when the teacher said, “Who can tell me where they live – in French?” She scanned the sea of faces and just when it looked like no one would, Nessa Nobody put up her hand. You could hear this little gasp of surprise ripple round the classroom. Agnes never ever put up her hand. Mrs Veitch looked as surprised as the rest of us. “Ah, right then.” I could see her brain scrabbling around trying to remember Agnes’s name. “Right, jeune fille,” she said (whatever that means), “what is it?”
“J’habite à Peebles. C’est une petite ville au sud d’Edimbourg,” Agnes said, sounding really French. “En Ecosse,” she added, then blushed and looked down at her desk.
I think Mrs Veitch got a bit more than she bargained for. Robbie started to snigger. Mrs Veitch glared at him. “Bravo,” shouted Agatha, quickly followed by Mrs Veitch. Then we all joined in. “Bravo! Bravo! Bravo!” until poor Agnes got up and ran out of the room. Agatha ran after her. It took Mrs Veitch ages to regain control of the class. I don’t think she even noticed Agatha had gone. She fumbled around on her desk, pulled out the register, and I bet you anything she was looking for Agnes’s name. Then, looking all flustered she whipped out a reading book, sat on the edge of her desk and read to us. When she paused to blow her nose, I asked if I could go to the toilet.
Course, I didn’t go to the toilet. I dashed out into the playground. I looked on the climbing frame. I looked round by the bike shed. I even went up the hill behind the school. But Agatha and Agnes were nowhere to be seen. Down in the school I heard the bell screech for lunchtime. I could hear the church bells in the town centre strike midday. Suddenly I had a pretty good idea where Agatha and Agnes would be.
And I don’t know why, but I didn’t go after them. Maybe I thought I’d feel left out. Maybe I didn’t want to catch lice. Or maybe I hadn’t hung out with Robbie and Will for a while and I was starting to miss them. I went back into school and found them in the canteen. They waved me over and I slipped onto the bench beside them. Robbie was tucking into Scotch pie and beans. Will had a burger and salad.
“What you having?” Robbie said, shovelling another forkful of beans into his mouth.
“Nothing,” I said. “Not hungry.”
“And what about Harry Potter?” Will said. “Where’s he gone?”
It took me a moment to figure out what he was going on about. “Oh, Randolph?”
They both nodded, and winked, and nudged me in the ribs. “Yeah. Like, your cousin?”
“He doesn’t need me all the time,” I said. “He’s doing his own thing.” But of course I couldn’t help wondering what Agatha Black was doing and why she was suddenly all pally with Agnes. I shrugged and tried to forget about her.
“Anyway, Winter Wonderland was ace,” Robbie said, leaning forward like it was a big secret. “The best ever. Oh man, you should have seen the big wheel. And I went on this ghost train, twice. Talk about scared. And I skated like a speed skater. Didn’t fall once.”
“Good for you,” I mumbled.
“Shame you’ve never been,” he said, shlurping back orange juice. Then he fumbled in his rucksack, pulled something out and shoved it behind his back. “Saul, I bought you a present. They’ve got this, like, market there. It’s cool. And I got you this. Ta-da!” Then he made a big show of presenting me with a Rasta hat. He threw it at me like he was throwing a frisbee. I liked the hat. It was cool, all black and orange and red and green, and probably cost loads, but I threw it back in his face.
“Saul Martin,” the dinner lady yelled at me. “That was uncalled for and ungrateful. I’m going to tell Mrs Vei
tch. You can wipe all the tables for that. Honestly!”
I hung my head.
“That wasn’t nice,” Will said.
“No,” Robbie stuffed the Rasta hat back into his bag, “it wasn’t nice at all.” I didn’t say a word. Robbie wasn’t done, though. “Just cause you got these two babies crying all night long, you don’t need to take it out on us.” He leant in closer. “And like, who is this Randolph anyway? And what was he doing speaking to Nobody Nessa?” But he didn’t wait for an answer. He sniffed, pushed back the bench, got up and marched off. Will followed him.
I never felt so miserable in my life. I wiped the tables and tried to stop the hot tears that welled up behind my eyes. Once the tables were done, I ran to the toilets and splashed cold water on my face. Then for the rest of the afternoon, I didn’t say a word. In art I spent ages designing a Christmas card. I drew a Christmas tree and beside it I drew a monkey in a red jacket. I gave the monkey a pipe to smoke. But I rubbed out the pipe when the art teacher headed in my direction.
“What a cute thing,” the art teacher said. “A monkey in a house.”
And I wished Agatha was there, because she would have loved art. When the art teacher moved on to somebody else, I opened the card and scrawled across the top
To Agatha and Pug, from Saul, Peebles 2o12.
Then I quickly stuffed it into my bag.
At the school gates, Robbie was obviously waiting for an apology. Or a fight. Having Crow after me was bad enough. I didn’t need more enemies. Will was standing next to him. It was Will who spoke first. “Are we still in the gang?” he asked. I looked from Will to Robbie, then back to Will. They were both eyeing me like they didn’t trust me anymore.
“Sure,” I said, “we’re having a break, right?” Then I looked at Robbie. “But I don’t need your charity, ok? The hat was cool. But you don’t need to feel sorry for me.”
“It was just a present,” he said. We stared at each other. He gave me a half smile. I gave him a half smile back.
“Yeah, well.” I didn’t know what else to say. I wanted to go to the den and find Agatha. I wanted to give her the Christmas card. But Will and Robbie were in the gang. It was their den too. And suddenly I was sick of all the lying and pretending. “Wanna come to Pisa?” I asked them.
“Sure,” they both said.
“Wanna wear a cool hat?” said Robbie.
“Sure,” I said, then we all fell about and did a bit of wrestling in the snow, and we laughed and I couldn’t believe that I could feel so good after feeling so bad. Robbie shoved the Rasta hat on my head and we all pelted down the school path, along the cuddy and over the wasteland, yelling and cheering like idiots.
18
Halfway through the hedge we stopped. The sound of laughter was coming from the garden.
“No way do I want to get lice,” Robbie said. “It’s one thing Randolph being in the gang – for a few days – but Nessa Nobody is definitely not joining. If she does, I’m out.”
“Me too,” Will whispered.
“No fear,” I hissed. “We’re just going to check on Randolph. Give him a ham roll and a can of juice, then we’ll tell Nessa to hop it.”
“Agnes, you mean,” whispered Will.
I led the way. We squirmed through the hedge and burst out into the garden like we were commandos. There was no sign of Agatha and Agnes. But I could hear them.
“Bet they’re hiding from us,” Robbie said, then he bolted away, ran up the garden and into the den. Will and me ran after him, my heart thumping. “They’re not here,” Robbie announced as we stumbled in. He whistled and looked about. “Pisa looks different. Randolph’s done it up nice.” Then he saw all the drawings. They were lined up across the floor like an exhibition. “Cool!” He looked at me. “Runaway Randolph do that?”
“Hm-mm,” I mumbled.
Will was by his side and the two of them were having a right good stare. “Funny things to draw though,” Will said. “I mean, whoever heard of anybody drawing a door handle? Or a light bulb? Or a lamp-post?”
“Yeah,” Robbie laughed, “or a bit of popcorn? Definitely odd.”
“Check out this one,” Will said, “it’s the doors at the Eastgate! And what’s all this stuff?”
I stared at the pile of things in the corner that Will was pointing at. Agatha had been busy. There was a heap of earth on the floor, and water in Robbie’s blue bowl. Beside the bowl there was a pile of small stones and a few shards of broken glass. Seems going home was always on her mind.
“Junk,” I replied, waving my hand dismissively. Just at that moment another burst of laughter rang out from down the garden somewhere. “Anyway,” I headed for the door, “I’m off to find them.”
The laughter was coming from the other end of the garden. Me, Will and Robbie never went there. It was too overgrown and dangerous. But that’s obviously where Agatha and her new pal were. I ran through the snow and stopped closer to the laughter. “Randolph!” I shouted.
Will and Robbie were a few steps behind. “Randolph!” we all shouted. “Where are you?”
Silence. I glanced round at my gang and shrugged.
“Tell him to quit mucking about,” Robbie hissed.
“Randolph!” I shouted again, “Quit mucking about. Come on, where are you hiding?”
I heard rustling above me in a large tree. At the same time, a shower of snow floated down. I looked up. Something was moving. I couldn’t believe it. I heard giggling from way above me. They were in that high tree!
Either Agatha or Agnes did a really good impression of an owl. “Randolph and Agnes are up there!” Will said, well impressed, and he hooted back.
The branches rustled and another dusting of snow fell down on us. They were like two monkeys. Then I recognised a black lace-up boot hovering in the air, and I saw it find a branch. “Stand back,” Agatha called. Robbie whistled. Will gasped. The branch creaked, and she jumped down. She landed in the snow, rolled over, then sat up and beamed at us. Agnes did the same. Me and my gang just stared with our jaws hanging open as Agatha and Agnes, sitting on the ground, brushed the snow off their knees and laughed.
“Wow!” gasped Will, “that was so cool. Like, how did you manage to get up there? It’s, like, seriously high!”
The girls laughed again, then Agatha pointed to Agnes and said, “She showed me how.”
“What a… great place… to play,” Agnes said, all breathless. “It’s like a secret.” She swept her eyes over the garden, and the den. “I didn’t know.”
“But now you do,” said Agatha, clapping her hands.
“Yeah, but,” said Robbie, all snappy, suddenly acting like he was the gang leader and not me, “this place is our secret. It’s for our gang.” He glared at Agnes.
“Yeah,” said Will, pushing his shoulders back. “He’s right.”
“Yeah,” I said, “and I’m the gang leader.” I looked at the uncool girl sitting in the snow, not looking a bit uncool. Her hair was off her face for once. Her eyes shone and she didn’t appear to have an incurable disease. She looked at me and I got the feeling she knew I was stumped for words. She jumped to her feet, brushed the snow off her school trousers and shook her hair down in front of her face.
“No problem,” she said, “I’m leaving,” and she rushed past us and disappeared through the hole in the hedge.
“Don’t you dare tell anyone about this place,” Robbie shouted after her, but I doubt she heard.
Agatha scrambled to her feet. Her face was glowing pink. “Lo! What glorious amusement!” she cried.
Robbie and Will looked at me, then at Agatha, then back at me.
“That’s great, Randolph,” I said. “So, anyway, Randolph,” I made a big deal out of the name, “we just came to check you were ok.”
Agatha clapped her hands together, beamed a huge smile at us and said, “Majestic!”
19
It was getting dark. What with all the business of the girls in the tree, we hadn’t really notic
ed the light going. Mrs Veitch had been going on at school about how this week would end with the winter solstice, the shortest, darkest day of the year. Today’s short afternoon was definitely over. The colour had drained away from the garden and we were like shadows standing in the snow. Even the moon was out.
“Right then,” Will piped up, looking scared and glancing over his shoulder. “I have to go.”
And it wasn’t only because it was getting dark. I could see how uneasy they felt around Agatha. This Randolph disguise wasn’t working. Agatha had completely forgotten how to speak, and she didn’t really look like a boy at all. I decided to tell Will and Robbie everything. I was sick of lying. It was like I didn’t even know what was true or not anymore. I just needed to spill the beans, then we’d be a gang like we used to be, with no secrets, and maybe they could help me get Agatha back where she belonged.
“Yeah, I have to go too,” Robbie said. He grabbed me by the arm. “You coming, Saul?”
“Yeah,” I said, “I’ve just got some stuff for Randolph. Some food and that. I’ll put it in the den. Then I’ll catch you up.” And they left, like they were in a massive hurry.
I went into the den and Agatha followed me. “Agnes is a girl to befriend, Saul,” she said. “She isna like a demure lady. Not a whit. She is a marvel.” She set about rubbing stones together. I watched sparks fly off them. They caught a twisted piece of gardening magazine and a tiny flame burned. “We have much in common. Like me, alas, her dear mother is in heaven.” Agatha got down on her hands and knees and gently blew the flame. The flame grew and lit a twig. She sat back on her heels and looked up at me. “And like me, her hapless father does his best but struggles to put a loaf of bread upon the table. Did you note how threadbare her garments are?”
“Oh,” was about all I could say. I was just getting used to the uncool girl having a name. “Poor Agnes.” At that moment my phone beeped. “Text,” I explained to Agatha, whipping out my phone. She peered over my shoulder, curious. I didn’t recognise the number. And when I flicked open the text message I felt sick.
