Leap of Faith

by Candy Harper

  I huffed. ‘Honestly, anyone would think you were more interested in finding out who killed the vicar than hearing the inner most thoughts of your only child.’

  ‘You’re not my only child.’

  ‘You know what I mean, your most important child.’

  ‘Hmm.’ She peered around me to get a better look at the screen. ‘Like I said, I think you’ll be okay.’

  ‘I’m not sure you appreciate the magnitude of the problem.’

  ‘It’s only for a week.’

  ‘It’s quite hard for me to cope with Icky being inside the same school as me. Even though it is quite a large school and we are rarely in the same classroom, the poisonous nature of Icky means that I have already had a fist fight with her this term.’

  Mum finally took her eyes off the telly and glared at me.

  Whoops. ‘Well, less of an actual fight and more of a disagreement.’

  ‘Faith, please tell me you haven’t been in a punch up.’

  ‘It doesn’t count as punch up if no one draws blood, right? Or maybe there was a tiny bit of blood, but Icky was wearing our horrible maroon PE kit, so it wasn’t like you could notice it much.’

  Mum ran a hand through her hair. ‘What on earth is going to happen when you’re put in a house with this girl?’

  ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! Listen, I think that if I really focus on ignoring her then I can probably get through this.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘You’re going to need to buy me some pepper spray though.’

  ‘Faith! Don’t be ridiculous. Just because you don’t like the poor girl, you can’t attack her with pepper spray.’

  ‘I’m not going to use it!’ I shook my head at her complete lack of faith in me. ‘I’m just going to threaten her with it. Actually, that terrible patchouli perfume you’ve got would probably have the same effect on someone’s eyes.’

  Mum took a long shuddery breath. ‘If you still want to go to France, you’re going to have to promise me that you won’t spray anything in anyone’s eyes.’

  I spread my hands in a gesture of innocence. ‘All right! I won’t.’

  And I totally intend to keep that promise.

  Unless Icky is really annoying.

  WEDNESDAY 16TH MAY

  Since Angharad and I are going to be away for a whole nine days Lily arranged for us to go to Juicy Lucy’s with the boys after debating club. I wasn’t really looking forward to it since Megs, Ethan and Westy all seem to be mad at me.

  On the way there Ethan said, ‘Can I have a word?’

  ‘Okay, as long as you’re not going to try to guilt trip me into a relationship with someone I can’t help not fancying.’

  He looked a bit sheepish. ‘Yeah, the word I’m looking for is that one that people say when they’ve screwed up. Obviously, I’ve never been wrong in my life before so I’m struggling to remember what it is. Starts with an ‘s’.’

  ‘And ends with a “–orry I was a total idiot?”’

  He gave me a nervous smile. ‘That’s it. I am sorry. It’s none of my business and it’s not your fault that Westy’s a bit hung up on you.’

  ‘I didn’t want to upset him,’ I said. ‘But I don’t think giving him false hope was the answer.’

  ‘I know and you’re right. You’re completely right. I was just having a bad day and it made me sad that Westy was unhappy.’

  ‘It makes me sad too. Is he all right?’

  Just at that moment Westy charged past us with Cam on his back shouting, ‘Dino power!’ Westy gave a very convincing roar.

  ‘I think he’s getting there,’ Ethan said.

  I watched Westy leap over a rubbish bin. ‘I don’t want to lose him as a friend,’ I said. ‘Or you.’

  Ethan turned to look right at me with his big dark eyes and my insides went a bit swooshy.

  ‘Westy is still your friend,’ he said. ‘And so am I. And I am deeply sorry for being an idiot, and you are completely free to date or not date whoever you like – it’s none of my business.’

  Which wasn’t the best thing he could say because I wish it was his business who I date (i.e. HIM!). But I managed to pull a face which I hope suggested that he was forgiven.

  ‘Hey, have you and Megan fallen out?’ he asked. ‘You two were very quiet at debating; normally, you keep up a running commentary. I couldn’t believe it when neither of you had anything to say when Ryan took off his jumper and flashed us his nips.’

  I sighed. ‘Maybe we just weren’t in the mood.’

  Then to really cheer me up I spotted Dawn waiting outside Juicy Lucy’s.

  Ethan’s face broke into a grin and he went up and stood really close to her. Imagine what it would be like to be that near to Ethan. With his lovely pouty mouth just centimetres from yours.

  ‘You,’ he said to Dawn, ‘are exactly the person I wanted to see.’

  ‘And that,’ she gave him a sultry look, ‘is exactly what I wanted to hear.’

  And then she grabbed his arm and pulled him into Juicy Lucy’s.

  So that was nice. For them. For me it was mostly a bit of sick in the back of the mouth, followed by an aching loneliness inside.

  At least Ethan is my friend again.

  Inside, I chatted to Ang and Elliot. It’s a good job they can still bear to have a conversation with me because I had the distinct impression that both Megs and Westy were keeping their distance. When it was time to go I managed to corner one of them, at least.

  ‘So I’m off to France this weekend,’ I said to Westy.

  He looked at my knees. ‘Yeah, that should be good. We went on holiday there once. They’ve got these really good cakes. You’ve got to watch it though, because when you point at stuff in the shop, they’re not that great at understanding, and you might end up with the whole cake. I mean, that wasn’t a problem because, actually, all that cream just slips down, but those posh bakeries are quite pricey.’

  I laughed. ‘I’ll be careful. Although I am definitely planning on eating a lot of cake.’

  Westy managed to raise his eyes to my left shoulder. ‘You probably won’t have any problems communicating though; I bet you’re really good at French. You’re way smarter than me, that’s probably why . . .’

  ‘Oh, come on, Westy! That’s rubbish. You’re smart. You’re the only person I know that’s used trigonometry to calculate the best launch angles for water bombs. And you’re the first person I would ask if I needed help with my computer. And you’re not just smart, you’re sweet and funny too.’

  Westy was bright red by this point.

  I scrunched down so he was at least sort of looking at me. ‘I think you’d make a great boyfriend. I just . . .’ I lowered my voice. ‘I kind of like someone who doesn’t like me back and I have done for a long time, so I’m not really looking for a relationship.’

  His eyes widened. ‘Oh. I didn’t know.’ He jammed his hands in his pockets. ‘Sucks, doesn’t it?’

  I nodded.

  He jiggled about a bit. ‘Listen Faith, can we just, you know, be like how we were before?’

  ‘I would really really like that.’

  He managed a half smile. ‘I hope you have a good time in France.’

  I still feel sad about the whole thing, but I think that Megs is right: it will get back to normal eventually. I tried to tell her this, which you would have thought she would enjoy because being right is one of her favourite things, but, shockingly, Meg isn’t as easy to corner as Westy and she’s still being frosty with me.

  THURSDAY 17TH MAY

  During registration Mrs Webber was flipping through exercise books and scribbling things down in an even more furtive fashion than usual. I think her gambling habit interferes with her weekend marking time.

  I watched her for a minute. ‘Why do you keep switching pens?’ I asked.

  ‘You know me, Faith,’ she said without taking her eyes off the book. ‘I like to make the world a more colourful place.’

 
It’s certainly true that she’s got an inability to wear matching socks. But I had a strong suspicion that she was attempting to make it look like the books had been marked at different times over the last few weeks.

  ‘Your dedication to our education is an inspiration to us all, Mrs Webber.’

  She looked up. ‘That reminds me: Miss Ramsbottom tells me you’re looking forward to improving your French next week.’

  I smirked.

  ‘Which is funny because I was fairly certain that I heard you tell Lily that what you were most looking forward to was “Hot French Boys and eating your weight in pain au chocolat”.’

  ‘You didn’t tell Miss Ramsbottom that, did you?’

  ‘Of course not. Neither of us want you stuck here next week, do we? Anyway, she did tell me to let you know that due to your impressive levels of enthusiasm she wants you to be the person to give a report on the French trip in the celebration assembly the week after half term.’

  I rolled my eyes. Typical Ramsbottom, always trying to take something fun and insert a bit of deathly dull into it.

  ‘So you should probably make a few notes while you’re there and perhaps try not to burn anything down.’

  ‘It’s certainly a nice suggestion, Mrs W, I’ll bear it in mind.’

  But she’d gone back to her forgery.

  FRIDAY 18TH MAY

  I ought to be skipping about making sure I’ve packed enough bracelets and nail varnish, instead I’m feeling rubbish.

  It’s as if someone is taking the mickey out of my plans to be a super good friend. My bestie isn’t talking to me and I don’t know how I’m supposed to make new friends in France when I’ve got to live with my worst enemy for a week.

  If it was happening to someone else it might be funny.

  LATER

  Although, when you think about it, it is happening to someone else; it’s happening to Icky. She must be really annoyed that she’s got to share a house with me.

  That idea has cheered me up a bit.

  It’s like Granny says, it’s an ill wind that doesn’t blow some idiot away.

  LATERER

  Just got a text from Megs. It says, ‘Have a good time you big pig.’ I welled up when I read it. That girl has got a wonderful way with words. It’s a talent I share so I sent one back saying ‘Thanks you toad.’

  I hope this means she loves me again.

  SATURDAY 19TH MAY

  This morning Dad drove me to school. I expected to see Miss Ramsbottom skulking back from a night’s hunting, but it was just the French teachers flapping about. Madame Badeau was looking particularly stressed for someone about to go on holiday.

  I said to Dad, ‘Thanks for the lift. I’m off to embark on my jet-set lifestyle. From Paris I might just head straight to Madrid. Then I’ll probably be invited to the Cannes film festival. If I get spotted by a Hollywood producer I’ll send you a postcard before I set off for the States, but whatever happens, don’t let Mum turn my bedroom into a permanent granny flat.’

  Dad nodded slowly. ‘Yes, of course.’ He put a hand on my shoulder. ‘Right, now we’ve covered what’s happening in your imagination, let’s have a quick think about what might be happening in the real world.’

  I pulled a face.

  ‘I’ll keep it brief. First of all, be really polite with your host family. You know how you are with me and Mum? Just do the exact opposite.’

  ‘Seriously, Dad, obviously I don’t treat other people like I treat you! Not unless I really don’t like them.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘What else did you want to say?’

  He took a deep breath. ‘No fighting, no fires, no disappearing, no driving, no smoking, no drinking, no imprisoning anyone even if they have stolen your pencil case—’

  ‘Dad! That was years ago.’

  ‘No explosions, no knives, no digging holes unless that’s exactly what you’ve been asked to do, no swimming anywhere with a big sign that says “no swimming”, no extreme sports, no eloping, no joining a religious cult, and absolutely no sparking any kind of diplomatic incident. I don’t want to be conscripted into the army to fight a war that you’ve started.’

  He was panting a bit. He really ought to think about doing some cardio.

  ‘Is that it?’ I asked. ‘Because you honestly don’t need to worry, I was only really thinking about doing one of those things. Three or four at the most.’

  He crossed his eyes. ‘Every time you think of doing anything just picture my face.’

  ‘I can’t think of your face the whole time! How will I keep my food down?’ Then I took pity on him and gave him a squeeze. ‘Don’t worry about me, you fried egg! I promise to keep the delicate balance of having a good time and not incurring any expensive damages for you to pay for.’

  ‘I suppose that will have to do.’

  I got my cases out of the boot and signed in with Madame Badeau.

  When it was time to go Dad said, ‘One more thing, Faith.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Have fun.’

  I let him kiss me on the cheek.

  LATER

  Finally, we were on our way. The journey was pretty dull. I think I’ll recommend to Miss Ramsbottom that future school trips use more high-end transport like jets and limousines. I passed a bit of time by imagining what Josette’s chateau would look like. I was thinking something Beauty and the Beast-ish. Preferably including the talking clock butler and the dancing crockery.

  After that I tried to calm Angharad’s nerves by listening to her fears whilst eating all her sweets. Poor old Ang really is quite fretty about the whole thing.

  She bit her lip. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have come. I’m missing a maths tutoring session and now my Year Sevens will fall behind.’

  ‘No they won’t. You’ve taught them so well they could probably do their GCSE now.’

  ‘What if Louise doesn’t like me?’

  ‘Everybody likes you. A million people told you to have a nice trip yesterday. I didn’t even recognise some of them. You’re the most likeable person I know.’

  ‘What if Louise’s parents don’t like me?’

  I wasn’t having that. ‘Ang, you’re clean and polite and you enjoy doing homework. Parents adore you. You’d better be careful they don’t try and swap you for their own rubbishy French offspring.’ She managed to smile at that, but I’m going to have to keep an eye on her. When I’m sad I always manage to reach out and let people know. Usually, by sobbing nosily or expressing my feelings by painting them on walls, but Ang tends to keep it quiet. I could tell she was still bothered because there was a big crease between her eyebrows and she was staring off into space. She’s scared of meeting new people.

  I rummaged around in my bag and pulled out Scruffy the dog, my exam mascot.

  ‘Here,’ I said, handing him to Ang. ‘I want you to look after him.’

  Angharad gasped like I’d just handed her a diamond necklace (which, by the way, is what I had actually asked for when my Mum said that she’d buy me something to take into exams with me).

  ‘I can’t take Scruffy! He’s your good luck charm.’

  ‘I want you to. This way if you get really miserable and it’s too late at night to text me then you can give Scruffy a squeeze and remember that it’s only for nine days and I’ll be waiting to cheer you up in the morning.’

  ‘Thanks Faith, that’s real—’

  ‘That’s alright. Now, you don’t mind if I have this last packet of wine gums, do you?’

  I settled back to enjoy some scenery, but roads are pretty dull wherever you’re looking at them. Ang had brought a few books to read so I flicked open a Tintin but it was all in French.

  ‘I’ve picked up loads of vocabulary from that one,’ she said. ‘Saperlipopette!’

  ‘Bless you.’

  ‘No, it’s French. Saperlipopette.’

  ‘What does it mean?’

  ‘You say it when you’re surprised. It’s like goodness gracious! or some
thing like that.’

  Personally, I think being able to say ‘Trois tranches de gateau, s’il vous plait’ is going to be far more helpful than ‘saperlipopette’, but it seemed to be calming to Ang to tell me words that French grannies might find useful so I let her witter on.

  We eventually arrived at Josette’s school. It looks a lot like our school (i.e. large and horrible and easily confused with a prison). As soon as I got off the coach I was almost knocked flying by a bellowing girl.

  ‘It is you!’ And she threw an arm around me and started dragging me sideways.

  ‘Josette?’

  ‘Yes, and you are Faith.’

  ‘I know. It’s really nice to meet you. Journey was a bit of a nightmare. It looks like a little skip on the map, doesn’t it?’

  Josette nodded enthusiastically and then burst into peels of laugh. I wasn’t sure if she hadn’t understood what I said or if she was just bubbling over with the joy of meeting me. Which is understandable.

  ‘I like your boots,’ I said.

  She was wearing some hefty looking lace up clompers like the kind of thing that builders wear to protect their toes from falling bits of house.

  ‘Ah, these boots they are good for the kicking and the . . .’ she mimed grinding something underfoot.

  ‘Squishing?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So we’re going to your house next? Listen, there’s something I’ve got to tell you about Delphine’s partner.’

  ‘Delphine?’ She looked over at a girl with the same shiny black hair she had, talking to Icky.

  ‘Yes, her English girl. She’s not my friend. She’s my enemy. And she’s not nice. Pas de tout.’

  ‘Josette’s eyes widened. ‘Ohhh, this girl, she is bad?’

  ‘Really bad. Rude, mean, wears perfume that smells like one of those freshener things that hang over the edge of the loo seat.’

  ‘Delphine will not let her be bad.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Delphine she is my twin. She knows what to do with the bad girls.’