Over the Moon (10 page)

“It was all falling to pieces … dry rot and everything.”

Matt said he guessed that was one of the advantages of having a dad who did something useful. I asked him what his dad did, and he said he was a lawyer; and he pulled a face, like he didn’t rate lawyers too highly in the overall scheme of things. I didn’t quite know what to say to that, so for a few minutes I didn’t say anything, and neither did he, and we had one of those awkward silences which always embarrass me most horribly. Then I had a moment of inspiration and asked him why Simon didn’t swim.

“Is it because of his leg?”

Matt said that it was. He said, “It’s not that he
can’t
swim. He’s just oversensitive. Thinks people will stare at him, or something.”

I said, “Like Hattie!”

“Like anyone cares,” said Matt.

I asked him what was wrong with Simon’s leg, and he told me that he had been in the car with his dad when his dad had lost control and driven into a tree at 90 mph.

“He was in hospital for months. He’s still got to have more operations.”

I said, “God, if my dad did that to me he’d never forgive himself!”

Matt said he didn’t know about Simon’s dad forgiving himself, but Simon’s mum had certainly never forgiven him.

“They’ve practically come apart at the seams over it.”

“That is so terrible,” I said. I didn’t think I could bear it if my mum and dad were to come apart at the seams.

Matt said that Simon’s mum was a right battle-axe. “She’s another lawyer, wouldn’t you know it?”

This time, it was me that pulled a face. I really don’t know why I pulled one, just that it seemed to be what was expected. Lawyers,
ugh!
Women lawyers,
yuck!

“I can’t stand professional women,” said Matt.

I said, “What, even though your mum is one?”

Matt said, “Yeah, even though my mum is one.”

I wondered if that meant he didn’t get on too well with his mum, but I didn’t like to ask in case it seemed like prying. And I didn’t like to ask what it was, exactly, that he had against professional women in case he
thought that I approved of them, or worse still was aiming to be one. Me a lawyer! No thank
you.

He told me, anyway. “There’s just something about them … so damn
bossy
all the time. Too busy trying to beat men at their own game. Know what I mean?”

I nodded eagerly. “My dad would agree with you! That’s what he thinks, too.” I told him how Mum had recently got this bee in her bonnet about not having had enough education.

“And she’s taking it out on me! Like I’ve got to work
really
hard and pass
all
these exams to make up for her not passing a single one.”

“Gross,” said Matt.

“Actually” – this was where I started to get bold – “I am sort of working a bit harder than usual, but it’s nothing to do with Mum. It’s because I’m trying to get selected for Founder’s Day.”

Matt said, “Yeah, I’ve heard of that. It’s quite a big do, isn’t it?”

So that was when I got
really
bold and asked him if he’d like to come with me as my partner, and he said that he would, and I was, like, over-the-moon!

It had been good having Simon to talk about, because while I have always been into boys in a really big way I do sometimes find them quite difficult to actually
converse
with.

Like with Hattie, for example, I can chat about absolutely anything for hours on end, no problem at all, but with boys I am not always sure what will interest them. It seems to me that you can’t
gossip
with a boy like you can with a girl. They are quite odd in their own way, but I do like them!

Mum slightly annoyed me next morning by saying, “My goodness, what a flash young man! He thinks the world of himself, doesn’t he?”

I asked her how she could possibly know, since as far as I was aware she hadn’t even spoken to him, apart from just saying hello. Mum said, “I didn’t need to speak to him, I could tell just by looking.”

I said, “Well! Talk about judging people by their appearances. You are just
so prejudiced.
I suppose if he’d been black, you’d have said he was a mugger. Or if he’d had a ring in his ear, you’d have said he was on drugs. Or— ”

Mum said, “Scarlett, don’t be silly. You know better than that.”

I thought, well, but really! Just because Matt was good looking, was that any reason to take against him? Mum really could be quite impossible, at times. I complained to Dad about it. I said, “What does she want? Would she rather I went out with some geeky little nerd?” I knew Dad wouldn’t agree, cos last term when I’d gone out for a short while with Jason Francis he’d said we made a handsome couple. (Just a pity Jason was such a gunk.) “I mean, what is her
problem?”
I said.

Dad told me not to pay too much attention. “Your mum’s going through a funny phase at the moment. Taking life a bit too seriously. Don’t worry! She’ll come through it.”

I said that I hoped she would cos I was beginning to find all this constant criticism quite tiresome. Dad said, “Tell me about it!”

“I mean, what is
wrong
with her?” I said.

“Nothing,” said Dad. “It’ll pass.”

For just a moment, when he said that, I thought I could hear a note of doubt in his voice, like maybe he wasn’t so sure, after all, about it being a phase.

“God,” I said, “please don’t let it be permanent!”

“I’ll second that,” muttered Dad.

Oh, but it couldn’t be! I couldn’t bear it if Mum was going to turn into some sour-faced harridan without any sense of humour. I didn’t think Dad could bear it, either. And then where would we be?

I decided to put it to the back of my mind. It was between Mum and Dad; there was nothing I could do about it.

In the meantime, me and Hattie didn’t forget our vow to have a fundraiser for the tsunami victims. We spoke to one or two of our special friends at school and they all agreed that it was a good idea. Most of our mums and dads had made donations, but we wanted to do something by ourselves, to show that we cared. It was just a question of what. Hattie said we should call the whole of our class together after school to talk about it,
so we got permission to use the small hall and almost everyone came along. Even the boys! I say that as usually they would turn their nose up at anything organised by girls, plus they do have this tendency to mess around all the time and make stupid jokes. Fortunately Hattie was there to keep them in order. They are quite in awe of Hattie!

I don’t know whose suggestion it was that we should have a beauty contest. It certainly wasn’t mine! And I don’t think it was Tanya’s, either. But we had a show of hands and practically every hand in the room went up.
Someone then said that we should have a “beefcake” contest for the boys, so they could strip off and show their muscles, but the only boy to put his hand up and support that one was Weedy Gonzalez – who doesn’t even have any muscles! I thought that was quite brave of him, actually. He’s not so bad, old Weed. The rest are such spoilsports!

One of them, Anthony Meyers, said that instead of a beefcake contest we should have a Tom Bowler. Well, that is what I thought he said. I only discovered later that in fact it is a
tombola.
Just a sort of lucky dip, really. You have all these tickets with numbers on them and people pay to pick them out. If they get a number with, like, 0 on the end, that means they’ve won a prize. Some of us were a bit alarmed at the thought of prizes, cos where were we going to get them from? But Ant said as it was for charity any old thing would do, just so long as it wasn’t too tatty, or had bits missing, so we all agreed to go home and find stuff that we didn’t want any more. I said, “And we can ask our mums and dads, as well.”

Patty Stevens said that she would get her mum to bake a cake, so that we could have a “Guess the Weight of the Cake” competition, and Anita Serrano, whose dad runs a restaurant, said that she would ask her dad if we could use his downstairs banqueting hall for free, one Saturday afternoon. It was all quite exciting!

I told Mum and Dad about it when I got back from school. Mum said she thought it was an excellent idea. “Except for the beauty contest. Whose suggestion was that?”

“Not mine,” I said.

“Are you sure?” said Mum.

I was indignant. “Someone
else
suggested it. Then we voted on it. What’s wrong with a beauty contest, anyway?”

“Nothing,” said Dad. “Just a bit of harmless fun.”

He chuckled. “And of course we all know who’ll win!”

“It won’t be me,” I said, quickly. “It’ll be Tanya.”

‘Tanya? That one that came to your party last year? Nah!” Dad shook his head. “She’s a milksop beside you.”

“Frank, do you have to?” said Mum. “Your daughter is quite vain enough as it is.”

I felt my cheeks fire up. Hattie had said I was vain! I said, “You don’t have to get all bent out of shape over it. I already told you, it wasn’t my idea.”

“No, but I bet you went along with it!”

“So what? So did everyone else! And if you can win prizes for – I don’t know! Writing essays, or something, I don’t see why you can’t win prizes for the way you look.”

“Exactly,” said Dad. “Where’s the difference?”

“The difference,” said Mum, “is that one is an achievement, the other is just an accident of birth. Beauty is only skin deep, you know! It’s what’s inside that counts. Who’s going to judge this
beauty
contest, anyway?”

I said, “All the people that come. They’ll all get to vote.”

“And how is it supposed to make money?”

I hadn’t quite thought that one out. I said, “I dunno … I guess people will pay to come in.”

“You’d better believe it,” said Dad. “I’ll pay to come in, don’t you worry!”