The Bad Karma Diaries (4 page)

Anna likes animals. And she was right. Renata is a very unreasonable person. How can you blame cows for
farting
? And anyway, how can farts destroy the ozone layer?
Aeroplanes
destroy the ozone layer. I think maybe Renata is going nuts.

Afterwards I did loads of clearing up to make sure they’d ask me to stay for dinner again. I started clearing the table without being asked. Anna had to be
forced
into her job. Then Renata dropped me home because she wants to practise her driving. But her mum had to come in the car with us because she’s not allowed to go out without an experienced driver yet. I don’t think she ever should be. I am lucky to be at home in my bed alive.

We have got our first job as The Party People! Someone who works with mum wants us to do her daughter’s party next week. Her daughter is going to be six. She wants us to do everything – food and games – so that’s €80! We have to call round this Saturday to their house and get money to buy food and things for the Going Home Bags. Anna has brought a book with lined pages and written ACCOUNTS on the first page. She says we have to account for every penny we spend.

We have not got another job as Instruments of Karma yet, but then we aren’t able to advertise it the way we advertise The Party People. So how are people to hear about us? I am a bit worried about this.

Trouble. Pierce is not paying us back our interest! He came up to me at break and said, ‘Here’s the €5’ so Anna said, quick as you like, ‘And the 50 cent?’

He said, ‘You were joking about that, right?’ and she said,

‘Do I look like I’m laughing?’

She didn’t. Her jaw was out and her eyes were narrow.

He said in a rough, unpleasant, jeering voice, ‘Who d’you think you are? The Bank of Ireland?’

‘You agreed. We had a deal.’

He said, ‘Deal? Sch-meal’, which wasn’t a very quick-witted thing to say, but then he isn’t very quick-witted.

Then he said, ‘Anyway I didn’t borrow it from
you
, I borrowed it from Denise, and she’s cool with it, right?’ and he turned to me, smiling, so I said, very fast, ‘No, I’m with Anna.’

‘Yeah, I should have known, you’re just a sheep.’ He turned and walked away.

I shouted after him, ‘She’s my
accountant
.’

And Anna shouted, ‘You’re a toxic loan! You’re why this country is going down the tubes!’

Then we both stood there in a RAGE. Anna said, ‘He
agreed
. He thinks he’s above the law, leaving it to us to bail him out.’

I ignored her; she was just quoting her dad.

I said, ‘I’m not a
sheep
!’

She said, ‘Next time we’ll have to draw up a contract.’

I said, ‘Who do you think you are? The Bank of Ireland?’ because now
I
was pissed off with her.

In fact I agreed with Pierce. It’s stupid to charge interest. But if I agreed with Pierce, why did I say I was with Anna? Maybe because I am a sheep after all? This is a really depressing thought.

Finally she saw I was mad. She said impatiently, ‘Oh, come
on
, why d’you care what he says? You know what you are. You don’t have to base your opinion of yourself on what other people think.’

Then I felt better. It’s true that maybe from the outside it
looks
like I’m a sheep because of Anna having such a strong character, but from inside, where we are, that’s not what I am. We are actually quite equal.

Anna went on, ‘Maybe you don’t agree about charging him interest. But he agreed to it. He
knew
what he was getting into. And now he’s broken his word. He just went along with it to get what he wanted.’

I said sarcastically, ‘Yeah, well, big surprise, he’s a liar as well as a bully.’ Then I added grandly, ‘We shouldn’t do business with such people,’ so Anna had to laugh.

She said, ‘Zero credit rating!’ whatever that means.

Then she said, ‘We shouldn’t let him away with it.’

I said, ‘No-o-o’, but I didn’t sound very sure because how do you stop someone like Pierce doing what he wants?

This has been a
very
long day. I almost don’t have energy to write.

After lunch Anna came round ’cause Mum had offered to drive us to Mrs Mahony’s. That is the woman she works with whose daughter is having her birthday. When we got there, I said to Mum, ‘We have to go in just by ourselves because it’s our job.’

I thought it would make us look like little kids if Mum was with us. So she said fine, she’d wait in the car at the end of the road.

Mrs Mahony’s house was in an estate. It was big and new. All the houses were identical and very clean. They all had very clean front gardens with perfect lawns and big driveways with new cars. Our car is quite clean, but it’s also quite old. But then I remembered that Anna’s garden is not neat at all, it has messy flowers and Charlie’s toys on the lawn. So then I felt better. It was weird, though, that everyone’s house here was perfect.

You’d think there would be
one
messy family.

I said to Anna, ‘Do you think you have to pass a Clean Test to live here?’

So then she looked round, and got what I meant immediately, and she said, ‘No, there’s a Clean Committee, and you get three chances, and the first two times you get a warning, but the next time you don’t wash your car, you’re
out
,’ and she waved her hand in a dramatic
out
gesture.

We were both giggling when we walked into No.17 – Mrs
Mahony’s – but then I looked at her gleaming windows, and I said, ‘God, how are we gonna make it clean enough after the party?’ and Anna suddenly looked alarmed because actually she is really lazy about clearing up.

We didn’t look at each other when we rang the bell. My heart was beating fast. But Mrs Mahony seemed quite nice.

She said, ‘Oh, Anna and Denise, The Party People,’ and brought us through to the kitchen.

She was quite young, and she had very neat hair, like it was just blow-dried, which is what I expected from her house. Inside was just as clean as outside. It was just perfect.

We chatted about the party and what games we should do. Anna said Pass the Parcel and Pin the Tail on the Donkey and Musical Bumps and Musical Statues and Mrs Mahony kept nodding. I said, what about outside games, because I was looking out the window and they had a big back garden and I remembered that children need Fresh Air. I think something terrible happens to them if they don’t get Fresh Air.

Mrs Mahony said, ‘Ye-e-ss’, like that, a very long
Ye-e-esss
‘but,’ she said, ‘not
rough
games!’ so I knew she was worrying about her lawn.

Then she said, ‘Now how much do you need for food and going home bags, and, oh, prizes?’

I saw Anna’s face. It was looking panic-stricken, just like mine probably. How much did we need? We never discussed how much to charge for buying stuff.

Anna cleared her throat. She looked at me, then she said firmly, ‘Forty euro.’

I nodded.

Mrs Mahony said, ‘That should be fine,’ and took out forty euro from her purse and gave it to Anna.

We were quite pleased with ourselves when we got back to the car. I asked Mum would she mind driving us to the shopping centre so we could buy stuff for the party.

Mum said, ‘How much did she give you?’

I told her about the forty euro.

Mum said, ‘
Forty euro
. You have to buy all the food and the prizes and the going-home bags for forty euro?’

We said yes.

Mum said, ‘And the cake?’

We looked at each other, and nodded.

‘That
woman
,’ said Mum. She was nearly laughing, but cross too. ‘I’d better go in for you and get more money.’

I said, ‘
No
!
That would be so embarrassing!’

And Anna said, ‘It’s the recession! Everyone has to budget!’

So Mum sighed and said, ‘Lambs to the slaughter!’ almost to herself, and then, ‘Well, I guess they have to make their own mistakes.’ And she drove off, thank God! It would have been mortifying if she’d gone in!

At the shopping centre, I said, ‘Thank you very much, we’ll get the bus home.’

She said, ‘I’d better come in and supervise the shopping.

You’ll need to budget.’

But me and Anna said
‘No!’
so she kind of laughed and shrugged, but as we were leaving, she called out, ‘You’ll have to make the cake. You won’t be able to afford one.’

Anna said, ‘Put your phone on calculator. We’ve got to add everything up,’ so I knew she was worried Mum was right and we wouldn’t have enough money.

Well, the shopping was … well, like a rollercoaster. First it was fine. We got the crisps and they cost, like, nothing. Well actually, they cost €3.50. (I know exactly what
everything
costs). So that made us happy and loud and boastful.

‘Huh,’ said Anna, ‘we’ve
loads
of money!’

‘
Yeah
,’ I said, ‘we’ll probably have some left
over!’

That was the rollercoaster going up.

But then after we’d got the chocolate and the biscuits and the sweets and the popcorn and the Coke and the bread for sandwiches and the cheese and ham, we were way up. My phone calculator said €34.

‘Well,’ said Anna, ‘that’s okay. I guess we’ll make the cake like your mum said …’

‘Going away presents and prizes!’ I cried tragically. I stopped in the aisle and put my hand on my brow in a tragic actress way, because it was pretty funny really.

But Anna was losing her sense of humour, ‘Oh for God’s sake!’ she shouted.

That was the rollercoaster plunging down.

She was looking for someone to blame, but there was no blaming me.

I could see the black cloud coming over her though, so I said, ‘Value brands?’

And she said, ‘I guess …’

So then we had to run around swapping the famous brands for the supermarket value brands. There wasn’t a value brand for everything, but (for your information!) there are incredible savings on ham and cheese. And then we got Ribena concentrate instead of Coke (they were only six, they wouldn’t notice, and anyway Coke is bad for them) and we got the corn kernels instead of the ready-made popcorn. So then my calculator said 27.

‘That is a significant saving,’ said Anna gravely. (Rollercoaster up!) We decided we’d make the cake using flour and butter and stuff from my house or Anna’s. So that left €13 for prizes and going-home bags, which seemed quite a lot.

‘Let’s go to the joke shop,’ I said.

On the way out from the shopping centre, I saw the new boy, David Leydon! He was hanging out with three other guys not from our school. And he
was
wearing black! I was right about that.

I nudged Anna. ‘Look, there’s David Leydon.’

She looked across, ‘Oh yeah …’

Then she just started walking towards him, me after her. If I’d been on my own I wouldn’t have dared, but Anna is a) very
brave, and b) never gets pathological-neurotic over boys so she never gets nervous. (Does this mean – because I got nervous – that I fancy David Leydon??)

We walked up and stood there and said, ‘Hi.’

He looked at us and said, ‘Oh, hi…’ not very enthusiastically, but not unfriendly – not anything really.

It seemed like he was much older than us, which he can’t be. He is taller, maybe that’s it.

We stood there, but he didn’t introduce us to his friends, so I said, ‘What are you up to?’

He said, ‘You know, hanging out …’

There was silence. I thought his friends were sniggering, but I wasn’t looking directly at them. Then he seemed to realise it was
his
turn to ask the question.

So he said, ‘What about you?’

I said, ‘We’re going to the joke shop.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah…’

One of his friends said, ‘Early Hallowe’en?’

Then Anna said, ‘No, we’re organising a children’s party.’

I was embarrassed then. I went a bit red. It suddenly seemed a kiddie thing to do.

But the friend said, ‘Oh right. Getting paid?’

So I said quickly, ‘Yes, we have a
business
running parties.’

It is certainly not kiddie to be earning money, and I thought they looked a bit impressed.

Then Anna said, ‘Yeah, and we have to get on with it.’

So I said, ‘See you’ and we walked off.

Anna said, ‘Well, they were interesting!’ sarcastically.

She is very hard on people, Anna. She really is. She is especially hard on boys.

I didn’t want her to know that maybe – who knows? – I fancied David Leydon, so I said, ‘Uh-huh’.

The joke shop was pricey. (Rollercoaster down!) Fake blood was €7! Also it seemed to have turned less into a joke shop and more into a sex shop. I mean, there was a little glass with ‘I 
Sluts’ on it and there was a bra made out of sweeties. These are not appropriate prizes for six-year-olds. But there was a plastic roll-y eyeball which you could pop in someone’s tea so when they got to the end it would be staring up at them. It only cost €2 and it was a suitable prize for a six-year-old. We were just paying when David Leydon and his friends came in! No joke! (Ha, ha!)