Girl, 15: Flirting for England (22 page)

Chapter 29

Seething with rage, Jess marched back down to the campfire. Marie-Louise was talking fast in French to Gerard in an intense, private kind of way. It sounded a bit like a pep talk or something. Edouard looked embarrassed and was fiddling with a beetle in a matchbox. Fred caught Jess’s eye, and pulled a face which she instantly understood. It meant:
What’s going on? Do I sense tension? Is something dangerous about to happen? Why are the hairs standing up on the back of my neck
?

Jess raised her eyebrows as if to say:
Don’t ask me. I would never make a fool of myself with a ludicrous French lover boy.
Marie-Louise stopped talking urgently to Gerard, as if she didn’t want Jess to overhear. Although in fact, Jess’s French was so poor she could more easily have understood the crazy cackling of a hyena. Jess sat down, trying to smile broadly at everybody, as if everything was totally fine.

‘Right!’ she said. ‘Great! So . . . what shall we do today? We’ve done hide-and-seek, we’ve done charades . . .’

‘How about this great new fun thing called sleep?’ said Fred. But as he said it, his face changed. He was looking over Jess’s shoulder, and he suddenly went pale, as if King Kong had loomed up behind Jess.

Quick as a flash, Jess whirled round. Jodie had just emerged from her tent. She was bundled up in a fleece and her hair was all over the place, just wild. Her eyes were flashing and her nostrils were flaring in high-voltage fury.

‘Where’s my freakin’ breakfast!?’ she roared. The empty frying pan and the empty plates told their own story. Marie-Louise looked scared, and got up to her knees.

‘I’ll cook you some, Jodie,’ she said, and started scrabbling around in the ‘food store’ – a little cluster of plastic boxes.

‘So you ate it all, you greedy pigs?’ growled Jodie, stomping towards the fire. The earth seemed to shake. Fred did a funny little pretend cringe to Jess, secretly. Gerard put on his shades and tried to look cool and uninterested. Edouard gawped, frightened to death.

‘I was woken up by the smell of bacon frying, and guess what? There’s none left!’ Jodie stood by the fire and kicked a log. The fire sort of shifted and a few sparks flew up into the smoke.

‘Oh no!’ said Marie-Louise, ransacking the stores. ‘Zere is no bacon left! But I can make you eggs and tomates, Jodie.’

‘Don’t bother!’ snapped Jodie. ‘It’s only MY field after all. This whole trip was only MY idea. The stinking bacon was only bought by MY mum. Why should I have any breakfast?’

Marie-Louise looked puzzled. She was having trouble understanding Jodie’s sarcasm. But Jodie’s mood was clear. Marie-Louise’s eyes filled with tears. Frenziedly she searched the plastic boxes, looking for some delicacy which would tempt Jodie out of her black mood and distract her from her obvious plan to eat everybody else alive.

Jess realised it was up to her to say something. The Frenchies couldn’t defend themselves because they were, well . . . French. Fred would never get involved in any kind of row. Right now he had rolled over on his tummy and was pretending to read his Stephen King book.

‘Chill out, Jodie,’ said Jess. ‘There’s plenty of food. My mum packed some croissants. They’re in that green tin.’

‘I don’t want stinking croissants!’ snapped Jodie, still standing over them. ‘They make me feel SICK!’

Sitting down, Jess felt at a disadvantage. It was like being bombed. She got up.

‘There’s no need to be so angsty about it!’ said Jess. ‘It’s only breakfast! If it’s bacon you want, I’m sure we can get some more. Your auntie probably has some.’

‘I don’t want to DISTURB my auntie!’ said Jodie. ‘I don’t want to be CADGING STUFF off her all the time. She’s got a MEDICAL CONDITION!’ Jodie glared at Jess as if it was Jess’s fault that the auntie was unwell.

‘For goodness’ sake, relax!’ shouted Jess. She decided not to ask about Aunt Rose’s medical condition, in case it was embarrassing or something. ‘Have some toast, some beans, whatever!’

Marie-Louise was actually crying now. Gerard got up and strolled off down the field.

‘Jodie,’ Jess went on, more quietly, ‘you’re upsetting everybody! Come on, get a grip! We’re supposed to be the hosts and stuff! You’ve upset Marie-Louise!’

‘
I’M
UPSET!’ roared Jodie, so loudly you could hear the spit boiling in her throat. ‘What about
ME
?’

At this point Flora returned from the loo, looking sour and rebellious. Jodie turned on her.

‘Ah, the divine FLORA!’ she yelled. ‘I hear you ate all my stinking breakfast, you greedy PIG!’ Flora looked startled but indignant.

‘I
so
didn’t!’ she snapped. ‘Ask Jess. I had literally like NO breakfast at all. Gerard and I didn’t feel like any. Tell her, Jess!’

‘Well, I wouldn’t say you had NO breakfast, as such,’ said Jess. She was feeling angry with Flora as well as Jodie. ‘I seem to remember you nicking quite a lot of mine.’

‘I
so
didn’t!’ snarled Flora. ‘It was a tiny piece of bacon and a microscopic bit of egg about the size of a pea.’

‘It was half a rasher of bacon and a huge dollop of egg!’ said Jess.

Suddenly Fred closed his book and jumped to his feet. He pretended to be holding a microphone and facing a TV camera.

‘Hostilities broke out here in the early hours following a dispute over supplies,’ he said in a breathless reporter’s voice. ‘The Red Cross have asked for a ceasefire at 10.30 to bury the dead, evacuate the wounded and so that everyone can go to the loo. This is Fred Parsons in the war zone at Walnut Farm, handing you back to the studio.’

‘Shut up, Fred. You’re an IDIOT!’ yelled Jodie.

‘Fred’s not an idiot!’ shouted Jess. ‘You’re the one who’s behaving like an idiot!’

‘Yes!’ Flora added. ‘We’re supposed to be looking after Marie-Louise and Ed and Gerry, not giving them a hard time!’

‘Gerry?!’ said Jodie, in a taunting voice. ‘Who on earth is
Gerry
?’

‘Gerard,’ said Flora. ‘It’s just a nickname. What’s your problem?’

‘Honestly! Chill out, both of you,’ said Jess. ‘This is supposed to be a fun weekend, not some kind of international incident!’

‘I don’t care!’ shouted Jodie. ‘I hate France anyway!’

‘Jodie! I have found some more bacon!’ pleaded Marie-Louise, from a pile of ransacked plastic boxes. She held out a little parcel of bacon, wrapped in clingfilm. ‘Shall I cook it for you?’

‘Get lost!’ shouted Jodie. ‘I don’t want any stinking bacon! You can shove it up your FAT FRENCH BOTTOM!’ And she stomped off in the direction of her auntie’s house.

There was a brief silence, during which Edouard scrambled to his feet and walked off towards the hedge and the infinitely preferable company of insects. You could tell he was trying not to run.

‘Phew!’ said Fred. ‘What’s got into her?’

Jess could hardly believe that Fred didn’t realise what was bothering Jodie.

‘Headache,’ said Jess, giving Flora an accusing look.

Marie-Louise wiped her eyes.

‘Take no notice of Jodie,’ Jess said to Marie-Louise. ‘She always has these flare-ups.’

‘Flare-ups?’ said Marie-Louise, in a trembly voice. ‘What is zat?’

Suddenly, abruptly, Flora walked off. Gerard was down by the river now, leaning against a tree and staring into the water. Maybe he was planning to do the decent thing and throw himself in. Flora was evidently rushing off to be with him, even though her own French exchange partner was in tears. Jess put her arm round Marie-Louise.

‘It’s fine, it’s OK, don’t cry,’ she said. But, somehow, Jess’s kindness made Marie-Louise feel worse. She threw herself into Jess’s arms and wept.

Jess looked over Marie-Louise’s shoulder at Fred, who shrugged and backed off. He pulled another face, which meant:
I can’t stand displays of girly emotion, so excuse me while I vanish for several hours.

Jess glared at him. She so needed his support at this crucial moment: his jokes, his clumsy cleverness. But Fred just backed off and went on going, shrugging his shoulders and pulling faces. Jess gave him a furious glare – a promise, that at the first opportunity, she was going to give him a hard time.

‘Oh, Jess!’ sobbed Marie-Louise, ‘I am so un’appy!’

‘Take no notice of Jodie,’ said Jess. ‘She’s always a bit moody. She doesn’t mean it.’

‘It is not Jodie,’ said Marie-Louise. ‘It is somesing else!’

Jess braced herself. Whatever next?

Chapter 30

‘What’s the matter, Marie-Louise?’ said Jess. ‘Are you homesick or something?’

Marie-Louise shook her head and, between sobs, tried to come up with a sentence. Unfortunately her command of English seemed to be slipping.

‘It is my – how you say . . . ? It is Miami,’ she said.

‘Miami?’ said Jess, puzzled. ‘What, like in Florida?’ How could a French girl be upset by a random American city?

‘No, no,’ sobbed Marie-Louise. ‘
Monami!
’

Oh no! She was speaking French. This was totally unfair. So far, Marie-Louise had been the one French person with a great command of English.

‘Wait!’ said Jess. ‘I’ll get my dictionary!’

‘I go to toilet!’ said Marie-Louise. ‘Excuse me one moment!’

She ran off towards the farm. Jess hesitated. Maybe Marie-Louise was ill. It certainly would be tiresome to be marooned on a camping trip if you weren’t feeling great. Maybe there was an illness called Miami. Or Monami or whatever.