Girl, Going on 16: Pants on Fire (30 page)

‘Just . . . a friend,’ said Ben shyly.

Jess wondered who the lucky girl would be. She had a feeling Ben might bring somebody who didn’t go to their school. So many girls at Ashcroft School drooled over him, it was almost a GCSE option. Jess had passed that exam with flying colours – she’d adored him for at least six months, until she’d realised that Fred, though often irritating, was somehow more her sort of guy.

‘Fred!’ she snapped. ‘Don’t just stand there! Make another list!’

‘OK,’ said Fred, getting out his notebook. ‘Uhhh, right: tea, milk, pasta, kitchen roll, talcum powder . . .’

‘Fred!!???’ yelled Jess. ‘What kind of list is that?’

‘Oh, just my favourite foods,’ quipped Fred. ‘Talcum powder is great sprinkled on porridge.’ He put on his brilliant-but-vacant professor’s face, and everybody laughed.

‘Fred,’ insisted Jess, trying to stay calm, ‘make a list of the people who are collecting tickets!’

Fred clicked open his pen. ‘What’s your name, sir?’ he asked Ben.

‘He’s Santa Claus, and I’m Rudolf!’ yelled Mackenzie.

‘And I’m Madonna!’ added Jodie. ‘Hey, stop pushing!’

It was all getting a bit frantic, but Jess could see that, whatever Fred was saying, he was writing down people’s real names – more or less. Although his handwriting was so spidery it was going to take them a week to decipher it.

‘This is such a great idea, babe,’ Jess’s best friend, Flora, said into her left ear. Flo squeezed Jess’s arm. ‘It’s going to be such a blast! I’m proud to even know you. Gimme my eight tickets! Mum, Dad, Felicity and Rob, Freya and her horrible Danny, and me and Jack – I must win the prize for buying the most tickets ever!’

‘I remember your dad’s cheque,’ said Jess with a smile. ‘It was the biggest cheque I’ve ever seen!’ For a fleeting second, Jess hoped that Flora’s dad’s cheque was safe with the others in the plastic box at the bottom of her wardrobe (or was it in a big envelope under her bed?). She and Fred must get around to opening a proper bank account for the dinner dance – at £75 for a double ticket, these were big bucks (by Jess’s standards, anyway).

‘It’s going to be awesome!’ Flora went on, staring dreamily at her tickets. ‘Such a brilliant idea to make it a family thing! So the parents don’t mind shelling out and everything. If it was just for teenagers I don’t think my dad would even let me come.’

‘And think of all the money you’ll raise for Oxfam!’ added Ben.

Jess felt a horrid little lurch of panic: any profit was going to Oxfam, so that made it even more vital to sort out the money side. She suddenly remembered she’d put some cash in her chest of drawers as well – stuffed in a sock or something.

‘Are you going to host it, Fred?’ asked Jodie, grinning. ‘I hope you’ve got some brilliant gags lined up!’

‘We’re going to co-host it,’ Jess informed Jodie coldly.

‘Yeah, the famous Jess ’n’ Fred double act!’ Flora backed her up. ‘That’s why the tickets are going like hot cakes!’

‘No,’ said Mackenzie with a strange, almost mischievous grin. ‘It’s because they’re dirt cheap! My dad said he didn’t see how you could do a decent dinner dance for the price!’

Jess felt a flare of annoyance. Mackenzie’s dad said that, did he? Right! She would single him out for a bit of sarcastic banter during the co-hosting stand-up routine . . .

Walking home after school, Fred and Jess discussed their triumph. At least, it nearly felt like a triumph.

‘Amazing!’ marvelled Fred. ‘All those tickets gone!’

‘Except eight,’ Jess reminded him.

‘Yeah, except eight,’ admitted Fred. ‘Hey! Why don’t we print another hundred?’

For an instant Jess’s heart leapt in excitement. Another hundred! More money for Oxfam! And more muns for them to organise all the details, which they must get around to . . .

‘Wait, no!’ she gasped, suddenly realising something. ‘If we print another hundred, there wouldn’t be room for everybody in the hall!’

‘We could stick a few extra tables out on the pavement,’ suggested Fred airily.

‘Fred! It’s going to be February! Valentine’s, remember?’

‘We could provide duvets.’

‘No, no, don’t be stupid. It’s made me wonder, though – can we fit in the people who have already bought tickets?’ A cold wave of anxiety shot up Jess’s neck.

‘Of course we can!’ Fred grinned breezily. ‘A hundred is nothing!’

‘Maybe we should go to the church hall and have another look at it. A hundred! That’s ten tables of ten people each. How big are the tables?’

‘Never mind that.’ Fred brushed her aside. ‘The really important question is: how are we going to host it? In fancy dress?’

Jess was instantly distracted by the idea.

‘We could go as animals,’ Fred pondered. ‘I could be a meerkat. I’ve always wanted to be a meerkat.’

‘You
are
a meerkat,’ Jess assured him. ‘You have their strange, lost eyes . . . But what would I be?’

‘Miss Piggy, of course!’ Fred grinned.

Jess hit him with her school bag and, as she did so, there was a horrid little crack from inside and some drops of brownish liquid spilled out.

‘Oh, that cola!’ Jess shuddered. ‘I bet it’s all over my history book!’ She opened her bag and picked out the school books, which were lightly dripping. ‘A hankie! A tissue! Give me something to mop them up with!’ she pleaded.

‘You must know by now that I never carry a hankie,’ said Fred. ‘That’s girls’ stuff. I always wipe my nose on the pavement.’

‘Oh, Fred!’ sighed Jess. ‘You’re
useless
.’

Get to Know Sue Limb!

The first thing Sue ever wrote was the letter ‘S’ and it’s still her favourite letter. As a toddler she wrote on walls, but at school she was given exercise books and filled them with stories of children who lived alone on islands and had adventures with boats and dogs. Though a tomboy, Sue was also a coward and deeply scared of boats, dogs, islands and adventures, but she discovered that writing was a way of experiencing other lives while keeping your feet dry.

As a teenager she realised that if you could make people laugh they didn’t notice how nerdy you were. Sue found that comedy was a way of dealing with the bad stuff that happens in life, such as embarrassment and anxiety. Despite her love of comedy and writing, she ignored these hints from the universe and briefly attempted to be a teacher. Sue hates imposing her will on other people (even her dog had to teach himself to sit and fetch) so her days in the schoolroom were numbered and she escaped from the Ministry of Education. 

Writing for young people has always been a big part of Sue’s working life, mainly because she still doesn’t feel grown up. In recent years she has produced the Jess Jordan books and revisited her early childhood in the
Ruby Rogers
series.

Sue lives in a wild, rocky and remote part of Gloucestershire, on a farm, and when not writing she likes to be out of doors messing about with plants and animals.

A Few More Facts about Sue!

Name: Sue Limb.

Star sign:
Virgo.

Favourite colour:
Green.

Favourite number:
Seven.

Favourite thing to do:
Give my dog a bath.

Favourite food:
Anything with pesto.

Where were you born?
Hitchin, Hertfordshire, England.