Mumnesia (18 page)

‘Oh, Lucy!’ I hug her.

‘Of course I wont him to stay, of course
I’d love it if you two got bock together . . . but
that’s not up to me, is it?’ She sighs. ‘More
than anything, I just really want you both to be
happy.’

I squeeze her tighter, a lump in my throat. I
guess this is what it feels like to be a proud mother.

Suddenly my mobile beeps.

It’s a text.

Uh-oh.

‘“
We need to talk
”?’ Lucy
winces. ‘That’s never good. Maybe it’s because
Dad answered the landline? Sam’s jealous!’

‘Holy guacomole!’ I cry. ‘find
then I wouldn’t speak to him!’

‘Or . . . maybe his wife found out.’
Lucy’s face crumples - the some horrified expression
she’d hod when I suggested Sharon and Sam were having an
affair.

‘You know what?’ I take Lucy’s
hand. ‘Maybe it’s for the best. Who wonts to date a
cheater, right? Perhaps we should just text Sam bock to soy
it’s over?’ I’m sure that’s what Lucy
wants.

She hesitates. ‘But then . . . you might
never get your memory bock.’ She frowns, biting her lip.
‘find it’s not like we really know what’s going
on with Sam - maybe he’s really unhappily married? Maybe
he’s getting divorced too? Or maybe the woman was just a .
. . lodger or . . . something?’ She doesn’t look
convinced. After all, that wouldn’t explain why Sharon
hadn’t told Lucy about him . . .

‘Well, there’s only one way to find
out.’ I take a deep breath. ‘We hove to meet
Sam.’

‘Really?’ Lucy asks, wide-eyed.
‘But you were so worried about even
talking
to
him!’

‘I am,’ I say with a sigh. ‘But
you’re right. It could be the only way to get my memory
back.’

Lucy nods. ‘I’ll ask him to meet on
Saturday at the bandstand in the middle of town.’ Her
fingers tap rapidly on the phone.

Moments later it beeps.

All morning, all I can think about is Sam
and Ingrid -my potential new step-parents - if everything works
out. At break I nip to the toilets and text Dad, asking him to
drive me into town after school, and he agrees. #Result! I
message Shazza quickly:

But I still can’t figure out who Sam
is. . .

‘Are you OK?’ Kimmy asks, catching up with me as I
head back to class. “You seem miles away.’

‘I’m fine - just got alot on my mind.’
#Understatement

‘Of course you have.’ Kimmy squeezes my arm.
‘Any news about your Dad? Is he still moving to
Australia?’

‘I’m not sure,’ I say, guilt weighing like a
lump of lard in my gut. ‘Dad and Ingrid broke
up.’

‘What?’ Kimmy’s eyes widen. ‘Wow! What
happened?’

‘I can’t really talk about it here,’ I
whisper, glancing around the busy corridor. The last thing I need
is gossip. Plus it’s not like I can tell her everything
anyway.

‘OK.’ She nods. ‘Well, why don’t you
come over to mine tonight? Mum’s cooking one of her famous
curries!’

My stomach rumbles. If only! How I’d love some great
home cooking after all the junk food Shazza and I have eaten this
week! ‘I’m sorry, I can’t.’

Kimmy’s face falls. ‘Seriously, Lucy? You moan
about me not having time for you, but now you’re the one
who’s always too busy!’

The guilty lump gets heavier.

‘I’m sorry, Kimmy, really. But tonight’s
Operation Make-Up.’

She rolls her eyes. ‘
More
make-up? One makeover
wasn’t
enough
?’

‘No – not
make-up
—’

‘Hi, Lucy!’ Nicole interrupts, looking up from the
Megababes’ table as we walk into Ms Banks’s
classroom. ‘Which spa was it you went to last
night?’

‘Um, Eden Falls.’

‘I’ll make sure never to go there then!’ She
smirks. ‘You look terrible!’ Cara and Viv giggle.

‘Wow. I can’t believe I ever wanted to be friends
with you guys!’ I scowl at them. ‘Megan was right
– none of you know the meaning of the word.’

Nicole jumps up and strides towards me.
‘
What?
’

‘Friends don’t
ditch
each other!’ I
retort.

‘We haven’t
ditched
her!’ Cara
protests.

‘As if!’ adds Viv, looking hurt.

‘What?’ Now I’m totally confused.

Nicole sighs and perches on the edge of a desk. ‘She
thinks one of us set her up.’

‘But we didn’t!’ Viv cries.

‘Obvs!’ Cara says with a shrug.

‘Wait,’ I say slowly. ‘So you’re
not
embarrassed to be seen with her?’

‘As if!’ Cara scoffs. ‘Megan’s our
friend. At least, we thought she was.’

‘But friends trust each other,’ Viv says sadly.
‘And she doesn’t trust us. That’s why
she’s
avoiding
us
.’

‘I can’t believe she thinks one of us would betray
her like that,’ Nicole adds.

‘How could she even
think
that?!’ Cara
exclaims.

Oh crumpets, here comes another big fat helping of guilt.

This is
all my fault
. I caused Mum’s amnesia, I
caused the rift between Dad and Ingrid, I’m keeping secrets
from Kimmy, and now I’ve split up the Megababes.

I am a walking disaster zone.

But how can I tell them the truth? Who’d believe that it
was actually Shazza who framed Megan? No one, that’s who.
They’d all think it was me. They’d all hate me.

#Dilemma

‘I thought you had detention yesterday?’ Kimmy
asks as we sit at a table in the corner.

‘I did.’

‘Then how did you get to the spa?’

‘Oh, Sh— my mum got me out of it.’

‘Your mum got you out of detention? To go to a
spa
?’ Kimmy raises an eyebrow. ‘Maybe my dad
should
talk to her?’

‘What?’ My head snaps up. ‘Why?’

‘Well, I know I said before that her strange behaviour
is probably just part of getting over the divorce –
that’d explain her makeover, as well as all the gifts and
stuff, even turning a blind eye to you bunking off school;
classic overcompensation.’

‘Exactly.’ Wow, that sounds just like
Megan’s mum.

‘But I know your mum, and she would never in a million
years come
into school
to get you
out of detention
– especially for something as trivial as going to a
spa
– with
Ingrid
, of all people!’
Kimmy shakes her head. ‘That makes no sense. Maybe
she’s having a midlife crisis or something?’

‘Shh!’ I hiss. ‘Of course she
isn’t!’

‘You’re not a psychiatrist, Luce,’ she
argues. ‘Dad could just casually pop over for a chat
– just to make sure she’s OK.’

‘Kimmy,
NO
!’ I snap, panicking. I
can’t let her tell her dad that Shazza’s having a
breakdown! What if he reports her to social services? ‘Just
drop it, OK?’

‘OK! No need to bite my head off!’ Kimmy stares at
me, stunned. ‘Lucy, what’s going on?’

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. ‘Look
. . . it wasn’t just a spa trip, OK?’ I confess.
‘It was part of a plan.’

She frowns. ‘What plan?’

I hesitate, but I have no choice – I have to tell her.
‘Sha— Mum and I were trying to split up Dad and
Ingrid.’

Kimmy’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. ‘OMG!
That explains
everything
!’

‘Huh?’

‘Quiet, please, class!’ Ms Banks barks, her braids
swinging wildly as she marches into the classroom. ‘Turn to
act 3 scene 2.’

‘The makeover and the new clothes!’ Kimmy
continues excitedly. ‘Your dad left your mum for a younger
woman, so now she’s
reinventing
herself as a younger
woman!’

That’s one way of looking at it!

‘Operation
Make-Up
! I get it!’ Kimmy hisses
as we flick through our scripts. ‘OMG, are your parents
getting back together?’

‘Lucy!’

I look up to find Ms Banks staring straight at us. ‘See
me at lunchtime, please.’

‘But I wasn’t even talking!’ I protest.

‘I didn’t say you were,’ she says tightly.
‘But you need to make up that detention you missed
yesterday. I’ll see you at one o’clock.’

I groan.

‘Rules are rules. I don’t care if your dog ate it,
your cat weed on it or your hamster shredded it, no homework
equals automatic detention,’ she declares. ‘That goes
for everyone! I want your homework on my desk at the end of the
lesson. No exceptions.’

‘Wow. Someone’s in a bad mood,’ Kimmy
whispers.

I nod. And it’s going to get even worse when she
discovers I haven’t done last night’s homework either
. . .

#UhOh

But then I smile. For Ms Banks has just given me the perfect
way to reunite Megan and the Megababes – without
implicating myself at all!

I smile os I read
Lucy’s text. Now it’s my turn.

I dial the number quickly.

‘Hello, Forever Fit, how con I help?’
the receptionist chirps.

‘Hi!’ I say confidently. ‘Con I
speak to Ingrid, please?’

‘Ingrid who?’

‘Um . . .’ OMGA! I don’t know
her lost name! ‘She’s, like, a personal
trainer?’ I gobble. ‘She’s
Australian.’

‘Oh,
Ingrid
,’ he soys.
‘Yes, she’s just walked in. Who’s calling
please?’

‘Shaz— Sharon Miller. No,
Andrew!’ Though if I’m divorced, maybe it should be
Miller . . . Why ore surnames so complicated?

‘Right . . . Are you a member?’

‘No.’

‘A friend?’

‘Not exactly . . .’

‘Then . . . ?’

I take a deep breath. ‘I’m her
boyfriend’s - well, exboyfriend’s, I think -
ex-wife.’

‘Right . . .’ he says slowly.
‘I’ll see if she’s available.’

Weird. I thought she’d just walked in? I
twirl my hair round my finger as I wait.

‘I’m sorry, Ingrid’s busy right
now,’ the receptionist says finally.

‘OK – I’ll call back
later.’

‘Actually . . . she’s busy all
day.’

My heart sinks.

‘Can I take a message?’ he
offers.

‘No, thanks,’ I sigh. After all, if
Ingrid won’t talk to me, there’s no way she’ll
agree to
meet
me.

Operation Make-Up stage 2 has majorly failed!

As soon as Kimmy and I join a table at
lunchtime I take a deep breath and stand on my chair –
before I have a chance to chicken out.

‘Excuse me!’ I cry.

‘What are you doing?’ Kimmy gasps, but no one else
even looks up.

‘
Excuse me!
Hello-oo!’ I yell, waving my
arms in the air.

Still
nothing!

The dinner hall is pretty noisy, with all the clatter of
cutlery and crockery. Wait – that’s it! I grab a
glass and spoon and tap them together – I’ve seen
this done at weddings – but it just makes the feeblest of
tinkling noises and
still
no one looks up!

‘EXCUSE ME!’ I shout again, tapping the glass
harder and harder till I’m bashing it violently.
‘
OI!
’

‘Lucy Andrews!
What
are you doing?’ Ms
Banks’s voice makes me jump, dropping the glass, which
smashes loudly on the floor.

Now
everyone looks up. And points. And laughs.
#Typical

‘Sorry!’ I cringe, jumping down and starting to
scoop up the pieces.

‘Don’t touch that!’ Ms Banks cries, grabbing
a broom and striding over. ‘Lucy, what were you
thinking
?’

‘Um . . .’ I look around at everyone staring at me
and my cheeks burn. ‘I was just trying to, er, get
people’s attention.’

Everyone laughs. Except Ms Banks, who frowns as she sweeps up
the mess.

‘Why? What’s so important that you had to break
school property?’

I take another deep breath. ‘I just wanted to say that I
know everyone thinks Megan wet herself at my party . .
.’

People start giggling and looking at Megan, who instantly
ducks her head.

‘Lucy,’ Ms Banks scolds, ‘this isn’t
appropriate!’

‘But I need to tell everyone that she
didn’t!’ I protest. ‘Megan didn’t do it.
It was my cat.’

Everyone looks at me. Even Megan finally looks up.

‘And now Megan thinks the Megababes are too embarrassed
to hang out with her now, but they’re not; they think
she’s
avoiding
them
because she doesn’t
trust them any more – but it’s all just one big
misunderstanding!’

Megan and the Megababes look at each other.

‘Anything else?’ Ms Banks asks pointedly.

‘Nope.’ I shake my head, lowering my voice.
‘Except, um, sorry about the glass. And see you at one
o’clock.’ I hand her the teaspoon and sit down
quickly before she can give me another detention.

‘
What
was
that
?’ Kimmy whispers.
‘You don’t even have a cat!’

‘
Shh!
’ I hiss, looking round to check
nobody heard.

‘Hey, Lucy!’

I freeze. It’s Zak!

He leans against my table. ‘That was
impressive.’

I gawp. ‘Breaking a glass?’

‘No!’ He laughs. ‘I mean, getting up there
in front of everyone. Standing up for Megan. Especially after she
was mean to you the other day, nearly breaking your phone and
everything.’

I shrug, my heart racing. ‘It was nothing.’

‘No, it wasn’t. It was cool,’ he argues.
‘You’re cool.’

OMG! Zak thinks I’m cool. I am SO not cool.

‘So . . . are you going to the Black and White
Ball?’ He grins, revealing those insane dimples again.

#Swoon

Luckily I’m sitting down.