Geek Girl (29 page)

ell?” Nat says after a few seconds. “I’m surprised you’re here again, Harriet. I thought you’d be busy auditioning for
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
.”

I blink a few times in surprise. “No. I’m not.”

“You should be. I heard they’re looking for an
ass
.”

Oh.

Now why can’t I think of quips like that when I need them? Does she sit and make them up beforehand or do they just pop out like that, fully formed? If she ever talks to me in a non-violent way again, I must remember to ask her.

Toby holds his head up very high and looks Nat dead in the eye. “Natalie Grey,” he says in a stern voice. “Harriet has come here in great and glorious dignity – and, if I may say so, quite mesmerising beauty – to apologise to you. The very least you can do is stand there and listen politely. Otherwise you’re nothing but a… a… a…” I can see him looking around desperately. His eyes fall on the ground next to the front door. “A flowerpot head,” he finishes triumphantly. “Full of lavender.”

Toby clearly has the same problem I do. Nat lifts an unimpressed eyebrow.

“I don’t want to apologise again,” I say in a rush.

“Then what are you doing here? Are you going to give me more pointless gifts that I can enjoy breaking?”

“No. I just want you to come with me somewhere.”

Nat’s shocked into silence for a few seconds. “And why the hell would I do that?”

“Because neither of us is happy like this.”

Nat makes a
hmph
sound. “Actually, being without you is extremely liberating, Harriet. I never knew how much time there would be in life when it’s not being filled with documentaries about humpback whales migrating.”

That’s a low blow. She
liked
the humpback whale documentary. She said they were very “splashy”.

“Please, Nat? Twenty minutes and if you still hate me then you can spend the rest of the night cutting my face out of all our photos.”

“How do you know I haven’t already done that?”

We glare at each other obstinately for a few seconds, neither of us willing to budge.

Toby clears his throat. “If you need somewhere to put all the cut-out Harriet heads,” he interjects, “I’d be happy to take them off your hands.”

We both turn slowly to stare at him, but luckily my response is interrupted by the sound of the invisible Nat’s mum tapping the top of the microphone. “Ahem,” she says, like the disembodied voice of some kind of ancient goddess. “Go with them, Natalie.”

“What?” Nat says to thin air.

“I’m not having you marching around the house with a face like a smacked bottom for the rest of the week. Go with them.”

“
No
.”

“All right.” The voice of the goddess clears her throat. “It’s on six, Natalie.” A screech starts filling the house.

“
Mum.
”

“Seven.” The screech gets louder. Nat starts chewing on her bottom lip.

“At eight, Natalie, your ears are going to start hurting.”

Nat puts her hand over her face. “Please, Mum—”

“Nine. Ringing in your ears for the rest of the day. Don’t make me go to ten. I will.”

“Fine!” Nat shouts, glaring behind her and grabbing her handbag. She violently forces her feet into a pair of shoes next to the door. “Fine, all of you. Happy now? I’m coming.” She stalks out of the door and slams it behind her.

But not before we hear the faint sound of disembodied laughter.

I lead the rest of the way.

I have to: nobody else knows where we’re going. And even if they did know where we were going, they wouldn’t know how to get there. I’m the only one with that magical knowledge, thanks to a party eight years ago that Nat missed because she was having her tonsils out. The first and last party I ever went to without her. Although I haven’t exactly been
wading
through solo invitations.

“Right,” I say nervously as we get to a large front gate and I click the latch. “Just let me do all the talking.”

“Harriet,” Nat says crossly as we walk up the garden path. “Where the hell are we? And when do you ever
not
do all the talking?”

I know I’m supposed to be making peace with her, but with comments like that she is making it very difficult.

“You think I don’t know what friendship is, Nat,” I say, lifting up the knocker and letting it fall noisily. “But you’re wrong. And I know how to be honest too.” I lift it again and let it fall. “I just forgot for a little while, that’s all. And now I’m going to prove it to you.”

Slowly, with an ominous creak and a struggle – and some mild swearing – the front door opens.

And there, with a very surprised look on her face, is Alexa.

f you guessed this is where I was coming then your mind clearly works just like mine does. In a linear and sensible and yet simultaneously creative and poetic fashion.

Nat and Toby’s minds, however, obviously don’t. Their mouths have fallen open in perfect coordination with Alexa’s.

“This,” Nat says clearly behind me, “tops the list of most stupid things you’ve ever done, Harriet. That’s a pretty huge achievement.”

“
Harriet
,” Toby stage-whispers, “
did you know Alexa Roberts lives here? What were the chances?”

I clear my throat. Alexa’s face is going through emotions the way Annabel flicks through channels on advert breaks: shock, followed by incredulity, and then a long moment spent on anger and a brief glimpse of embarrassment. And for a few fragments of time I almost see… respect. Respect for my audacity. On second thoughts, no. It’s not respect.

It’s a reaction to the smell of Toby’s powerful aftershave: the wind’s blowing it straight into the house.

“Alexa,” I say and I take a deep breath. I’m not absolutely certain what I’m going to say, even though I’ve been thinking about it all the way here. I just know that – whatever it is – it has to be perfect and it has to fix everything.

No pressure then.

“Harriet,” Alexa says, beaming at us. “Natalie. Toby. What a pleasant surprise. Would you like to come in for a cup of Darjeeling tea? My mum’s just bought a new box of Bakewell tarts and there’s plenty to go round.”

My deep breath rushes out of me all in one go. “Huh?” I say in confusion. “What? Seriously?”

Nat puts her head in her hands.

“Sure,” Alexa says, folding her arms in front of her. “We can all sit in the living room and discuss the likelihood of a white Christmas.”

“Really?”

The beam disappears. “
No
, not
really,
you moron. I have no idea what you’re doing here and I don’t care. Get off my doorstep before I set the dogs on you.”

Toby takes a few steps backwards. Admittedly, I can’t hear any dogs, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any; they might just be really quiet ones.

I bite my bottom lip hard. “Not until I’ve said what I need to say.”

Alexa’s frown deepens and she starts making a whistling sound. “Rex? Fang? Come here, boys. It’s geeks for tea.”

Nat breathes out loudly and tugs at my arm. “OK, Harriet. You’ve made your point, you’re risking your own safety to defend me, you’re very brave, I love you again, now let’s drop it and go home, all right?”

“No.” I fold my arms, partly to look determined and partly because my hands are shaking with nerves. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until I’ve told her.”

“Told me what?” Alexa stops whistling and her eyes narrow. “You’re standing there like the three little pigs on my doorstep so that you can tell me
what
?”

There’s a long silence while I look at her, my brain making whirring sounds.
The Three Little Pigs.
And their three little houses. One made out of straw, one made out of wood and one made out of brick. That’s it.

I’m going to tell Alexa that if we’re the three little pigs, then it’s OK because there are three of us, and we’re not in a house of straw, we’re in a house of brick. So she can huff and puff as much as she likes, but she can’t blow us down.

And if she has a problem with this analogy – I do, actually, because in Tudor times houses were made out of straw and
they
didn’t seem to have a problem with the elements – then I’ll switch to
The Three Bears
and tell her it doesn’t matter how much of our porridge she eats and how many of our beds she sleeps in: we’ve finally found the strength to run her back into the woods.

And then I’ll turn to
The Three Brothers
, and I’ll just keep going with the fairytale triumvirate analogies until she understands that we’re not frightened of her any more. And she can’t hurt us again, however hard she tries. Because we won’t let her.

I prepare myself to launch an attack verbally way below my range, but abruptly stop. I don’t need to say any of it. I know. Nat knows. And Toby knows. We’re here and that’s enough. But there is something I do need to say.

“We’re sorry about your hair.” I point to Alexa’s head. “That’s what we came to say. What we did was horrible, malicious and wrong, and we are sorry.”

Alexa lifts her eyebrows. “You came all the way over here to tell me you’re sorry about my hair?”

“Yes.” I turn to Nat, who looks totally speechless. “Aren’t we, Nat?”

“I’m sorry too,” Toby interjects. “Despite having nothing to do with it in a
literal
sense, as leader of this gang I feel I should take responsibility for its actions.”

Nat and I look at each other. We’ll just let Toby have that one.

Nat scowls and her cheeks go pink. I know she’s been feeling bad about it too. She’s just not mean enough to think it was acceptable behaviour. “Yeah,” Nat says finally, her shoulders relaxing. “I lost my temper, Alexa, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.” She pauses. “But if you do anything like that to Harriet again,” she mutters so that only I can hear her, “I’ll give you a buzz cut.”

Alexa touches her hair. “Luckily my face shape can pull off just about anything. Are we done now?”

“Yes,” I say slowly, looking at her hard. “We are done now.”

And I really, really mean it.

“Then please feel free to go to hell. All of you.” Alexa looks at the three of us. “Geeks,” she adds, almost as an afterthought.

And closes the door on us.