Girl, 16: Five-Star Fiasco (20 page)

‘We had the same problem with our labrador when she was young,’ said Flora. ‘My dad had to be ever so firm with her. He wouldn’t let her on the sofa or upstairs, and she had to wait behind us when we went through a doorway. And she had to wait for her food until after we had eaten.’

‘Labradors are such lovely dogs!’ gushed Mrs Stevens. ‘This little rascal is a different kettle of fish – aren’t you, Trouble?’ She swept Gubbins off the sofa and gave him an adoring, exasperated look.

‘Who’s top dog here, then?’ asked Jess, grateful for something else to talk about. Although . . . was it really something else? Or all part of the same problem?

‘I’m top dog,’ said Mrs Stevens firmly. ‘But don’t tell Charles I said so!’ The idea of telling Mr Stevens anything was a bit far-fetched. So far this weekend, he had been fast asleep and apparently still was. He had woken up the previous evening in his armchair, hauled himself to his feet, nodded to the gang of his children and their friends without wanting to be introduced, said, ‘What-ho! I’m for a proper sleep!’ and disappeared.

‘Mum,’ said George, getting up, ‘can I take the car into Weymouth? Humph wants to buy a charger and we thought we might mess around there for a couple of hours – get out of your hair.’

‘I suppose so,’ said Mrs Stevens cautiously. ‘Just be careful, OK?’

‘Yeah, well, I am insured to drive it and everything,’ argued George self-importantly.

‘Yes, and don’t we know it,’ observed his mother with a stern look. ‘It cost an absolute fortune to add you to the insurance. Promise you won’t start showing off.’

‘Would I ever?’ George cocked his head playfully – he could have won the Nobel Prize for Showing Off.

Jess felt a horrid cold chill seize her insides. Maybe George would crash the car and they’d all be killed. Although she despised her mum’s nervousness around transport, she sometimes felt she’d inherited it. Maybe she and Fred could stay here at the house. But Flora would want them to go into Weymouth with the gang – she would want to be with Jack, and Jack would obviously want to be . . . It all made Jess feel ratty and giddy.

Fred ventured into the sitting room, looking pale and insecure. Jess was irritated all over again. Why couldn’t he stand up for himself and look relaxed?

‘Fred!’ cried George. ‘Sorry we locked you in the bathroom. You came through it with flying colours, though. No one’s ever stayed in that long before. How did you do it?’

‘I love it in there,’ said Fred in an offhand way, with a faint smile. Jess was encouraged. She was proud of him. ‘Hey!’ Fred exclaimed. ‘What a view!’

‘Oh, of course, you haven’t seen it yet!’ exclaimed Mrs Stevens. ‘We’ve only got those skylights up in the attic. Take Fred out on to the veranda, Jess, and show him the view.’

As it was obvious Fred was perfectly capable of going out and looking at the view without any help, Jess instantly realised that Mrs Stevens wanted to get them out of the way for a moment while she read the riot act to her unruly gang of boys. It was kind of her, but somehow humiliating. Jess hastily made for the French windows.

Out on the veranda, Jess suddenly felt close to tears. Ridiculous!

‘If only . . .’ That If Only stuff had come back, and she realised now what it was she was wishing, and now she could say it. ‘. . . If only we were here on our own!’ she sighed. Fred didn’t look at her, he just went on staring out to sea.

‘What a terrifying thought,’ he said. ‘The stuff of nightmares.’

This was, of course, just Fred being himself. He always said the opposite of what he was really feeling, especially when it came to personal stuff. ‘
I’ve fallen head over heels in hate with you!’
he’d whispered once. It was just his way, and normally Jess loved it, and loved giving as good as she got. They were famous throughout the school for their banter.

‘Don’t say things like that!’ she heard herself plead in a tearful voice.

‘Oh no, don’t cry!’ muttered Fred, without looking at her. ‘Turn the waterworks off or I may just have to vomit!’

‘Fred! Don’t be so horrible!’

‘I’m going back in,’ Fred said grumpily, and turned on his heel.

‘Well, I’m going for a walk!’ snapped Jess. ‘And I hope when I come back you’ll have worked out how to behave – not just to me, but to these people who’ve invited us to this amazing place! This should be the best weekend ever!’

Fred paused for a second and glanced back at her. The look in his eye was not friendly. ‘Sometimes you do sound just like a head prefect,’ he said, and went back indoors.

Chapter 25

Jess stumbled down the cliff path, tears running down her cheeks. How could Fred be so horrible? She was on his side – it must feel awful being picked on by George and Co. They were bullies. Poor Fred! But Fred didn’t seem to want her sympathy – or even her company. How had things gone so terribly wrong?

When she reached the beach she just stood there, watching the waves crashing. The freezing wind tugged her hair about and dried her tears. She took a deep breath. She had to stop crying – this was silly. Then, from high above, she heard somebody call her name.

Flora was up by the house, waving. ‘Jess! Come on! We’re going into Weymouth!’

Jess waved back and did a kind of mad dance to look as if she had just come down to the beach for a spot of fresh air, not to sulk or have a cry. She climbed back up the path, puffing and panting. Flora was waiting for her at the top, standing on the veranda, snuggled into her parka. She looked puzzled.

‘What’s going on?’ she whispered. ‘Have you and Fred had a row?’

‘Why?’ asked Jess quickly. ‘What’s he said?’

‘Nothing. It was just the way he looked . . .
kind of –’ Flora stopped because the guys were all bundling out on to the veranda.

‘Come on, girls!’ yelled George, waving the car keys. ‘Weymouth is calling!’

They all trooped around the house to where the people carrier was parked. Fred kept slightly apart, his hood pulled up, kind of hiding in his clothes. Jess ignored him. She sat next to Flora. Fred went and sat in the back next to Tom. Jess wondered if anybody apart from Flora realised what was happening between her and Fred. But then, what
was
happening? It was all so puzzling – and painful.

There was a very strong smell of the scent Mrs Stevens had been wearing yesterday.

‘Wow, Jack!’ Jess thought she had better try and make conversation. ‘That perfume of your mum’s is amazing!’

‘Actually, it’s Fred’s,’ said Jack, with a naughty smile.

‘My coat’s drenched in it,’ said Fred in an expressionless voice. ‘Somehow, mysteriously, I now smell so divine, the inhabitants of Weymouth will be asked to stay indoors for their own safety.’

Oh no! The boys had sprayed Fred’s coat with Mrs Stevens’s scent! The guys all laughed, and Jess managed a tight little smile. At least Fred had made a joke of it. He seemed to be getting on better with the guys. But he was ignoring her.

George drove gently down the zigzag approach to Sea Spray, but once they were on the regular roads he accelerated, hurling the car round bends.

‘Slow down, bruv!’ said Jack uneasily. ‘No need to kill us all!’

‘You’re such a wuss!’ sneered George, whizzing round another bend and passing a truck by a hair’s breadth.

Jess was terrified and her mum’s dreadful warnings rang in her ears – though she and Flo were best friends, she had no wish to share a funeral with her. However, the mad thought did whizz through her brain that if she and Fred were killed in a car crash, Chaos would have to be cancelled.

‘Slow down!’ she yelled, suddenly furious. ‘If you don’t, I’ll be sick!’

‘OK, steady on, Your Maj – you should have said.’ George laughed, but he did slow down.

‘I get carsick if people drive fast,’ insisted Jess, fuming. It was a lie, of course, but Flora secretly squeezed Jess’s hand in feverish support and gratitude.

Eventually, at a slower pace, they arrived in Weymouth, parked the car and tumbled out.

Now
, thought Jess,
I’ve got to make sure I get some time on my own with Fred, but without seeming clingy or desperate.

‘I’ve gotta find a mobile shop!’ said Humph.

‘I’ll come, too,’ said George. ‘I want to get a look at their new stuff.’

‘I’m going to find an internet cafe,’ said Tom.

‘There’s one up in that direction.’ George pointed across the long, curving line of shops facing the sea.

‘Look!’ cried Flora. ‘A lingerie boutique! Let’s go and take a peek, Jess!’

‘You’d better go, too, Fredianus,’ said George teasingly. ‘We’ve seen your boxers, and they’re state of the art.’ The guys sniggered again.

Fred backed away, wearing his faux smile. ‘No, no,’ he said. ‘I’ve got stuff to do – I need the internet cafe, too.’

They all agreed to meet in an hour’s time at a nearby cafe, and then Flora dragged Jess into the boutique. Jess had never felt less like examining lingerie.

‘Look at this amazing bra!’ raved Flora, plunging recklessly into the merchandise.

She had a weakness for pretty underwear – something Jess couldn’t really share. And right now, all Jess could think of was where Fred had gone. She desperately needed to see him on his own, to end this horrible icy feeling that had developed between them. She hadn’t even done anything wrong. OK, so the boys were giving him a rough time, but that wasn’t her fault. It was as if he was blaming her for their stupid antics.

‘The green or the blue?’ asked Flora, holding a slinky vest up against her face.

‘The blue,’ said Jess automatically. She sighed.

‘What’s wrong, babe?’ asked Flora, but rather irritably, as if there was still something wrong left over from earlier. ‘Are you still worrying about Chaos? Just give it a rest for an hour or two.’

‘I just wish you could get Jack and George to leave Fred alone,’ said Jess. ‘He’s gone really strange and he’s treating me like dirt suddenly, for no reason.’

‘Oh, he just needs to lighten up!’ Flora shook her head as if a fly was buzzing around her face. ‘OK, the guys are a bit naughty, but they don’t mean anything by it. In fact, George told me he thinks Fred is a legend.’

‘Well, I don’t think Fred realises that,’ said Jess doubtfully. ‘I think he thinks they think he’s a loser.’

‘I think that you think that they think that he thinks that . . . whoops! No, I’ve lost it. Hey! Think about something else for a while. Try this on – it’d look great on you.’ Flora gathered up her energy and seemed determined to see the funny side of things and at all costs move on to another subject of conversation.

‘No, thanks.’ Jess wasn’t in the mood for shopping. She just lounged around while Flora tried on fifteen different bras and ended up not buying any of them.

The boutique owner looked rather grumpy when they went out without spending any money. Jess knew how she felt – Phil, Dad’s ex-partner who’d owned the boutique in St Ives, had often grumbled if he’d had a couple of time-wasters in, trying on loads of stuff and then not buying anything. Jess wondered fleetingly how Dad was and whether he was looking for somewhere to live. If he’d only move out and let Mum get on with her life! It would be nice if he found somewhere to live nearby.

Knowing that Fred was at the internet cafe made Jess restless. She could feel the invisible tug of her tall gawky boy with the mysterious grey eyes.