The Parent Problem (13 page)

I can’t help smiling at this. I can imagine that Aubrey is tearing her hair out shopping with her sister and mum. I can’t think of a worse way to spend a Saturday.

OTHER THAN BEING STUCK IN THE BATHROOM WHILE MY NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOUR CASTS HIS WICKED SPELL ON MY ENTIRE FAMILY.

Another text pings through as I am staring at the screen.

I feel a pang of shame that I doubted my friend. My heart goes melty-soft. I don’t know if it’s the word ‘dweeb’, which is one of our favourite words for describing how we feel when we have messed up. Or maybe it’s the cute-face emoticon. Or maybe it’s just that right this minute I could do with my best friend realizing that she has made a huge mistake.

Then I think: It’s all my fault anyway. I pretty much ignored her and avoided her for two days solid at school. Also, I did actually kind of promise to introduce her to Finn . . . and then I didn’t. What sort of a friend am I?

No wonder she blanked me.

I should have paid her more attention. I should have stuck to her like glue.

Another text pings up.

I giggle at this and decide to text back; something random that does NOT involve anything about the VTs or Finn or us falling out or . . .

A pounding on the door makes me leap up in shock and drop my phone.

‘What?’ I say.

‘Hurry up!’ It’s Harris. ‘I’m desperate.’

‘Go to the downstairs loo,’ I tell him.

‘Can’t – Finn’s in there,’ he replies. Then he adds, ‘He’s so cool! He’s taught me how to whistle through my fingers. Listen!’ He lets forth a whistle which is so ear-piercing I am very pleased that there is a door between us.

‘You can’t be that desperate if you can whistle like that,’ I say.

‘But I am!’ says Harris. ‘In fact, oh no! I think I am even more desperater now.’ I can hear him jumping up and down and picture him crossing his legs. Not a good mental image.

‘OK, look – I think I’m locked in,’ I say, trying to keep my voice sounding calm and grown-up. ‘So go back down, use the loo after Finn, and then ask Mum – WITHOUT Finn hearing – to come and get me out.’

‘Eh?’ says Harris.

‘JUST GO AND GET MUM!’ I say. So much for calm and grown-up.

Before Harris can reply I hear footsteps. Thank goodness. Mum will get me out while Finn is still . . . otherwise engaged.

‘What’s up?’ says another, deeper voice.

Oh great. Just great. It’s not Mum. It’s Finn.

‘Why are you jumping like that, buddy?’ he is saying to Harris.

‘Cos I need to pee and Skye wouldn’t let me in cos she says she’s locked in!’ Harris whines.

‘Okaaay,’ says Finn. ‘So why don’t you go downstairs? I’ll help Skye.’ I can hear the amusement in his voice.

Yeah, right. I don’t believe for one moment that he wants to help me.

Once Harris has run off, Finn starts laughing so hard I am thinking it is a good job he has already been to the loo, otherwise he might wet himself.

Another top mental image. Well done, Skye, you are surpassing yourself today.

‘I am so glad I am such a great source of hilarity,’ I say with as much sarcasm as I can manage. ‘While you are enjoying yourself, do you think you could please go and get Mum?’

‘Er, not really,’ says Finn through his laughter. ‘She’s in her room trying on outfits for her next class.’

Give me strength. She is a woman obsessed. ‘Okaaay,’ I say slowly. ‘Call through the door to her then.’

‘No, I can’t do that,’ says Finn. ‘It’s weird. She might be in her underwear.’

‘I said CALL through the door,’ I shout. ‘You don’t have to go in.’

At this point Harris can be heard running back up the stairs.

‘I’ve got an idea,’ he says. ‘Let’s get your dad, Finn.’

‘NO!’ I yell.

‘Why is everyone outside the bathroom?’

Ah, thank goodness. It’s Mum.

‘Mum! It’s me, Skye,’ I say.

‘We know that,’ says Finn, sniggering.

‘SHUT UP!’ I say.

‘Skye, dear, that’s not very nice,’ says Mum. ‘Why don’t you come out instead of shouting at us through the door?’

‘I can’t! That’s the whole point,’ I say. ‘The bolt’s got jammed.’ My voice wobbles. I bite my lip.

Do. Not. Cry.

‘One of the screws has fallen on the floor,’ I say. ‘I’m stuck – can you get me out?’

Mum laughs. ‘You silly sausage!’ she says. ‘What were you doing, bolting yourself in there anyway?’

Mum’s laughter pushes a button inside me. The unshed tears are immediately replaced by a shot of pure, hot anger; my ears are ringing with it. How can she laugh at me in front of Finn?

‘What kind of a question is that?’ I shout. ‘I bolted the door because I didn’t want anyone to come in, of course. Just GET ME OUT, can’t you? And don’t call me a “silly sausage”,’ I add, my voice dropping to a sulk.

Finn, Mum and Harris are all laughing now. Then Finn says, ‘I think Harris is right – I should get Dad. He’s got a good toolkit.’

‘NO!’ I say.

They are not listening to me, of course. I hear Mum saying thank you to Finn and then their voices recede as they walk away.

I slide down on to the floor again and my phone beeps once more.

Another text from Aubrey:

It is such a relief to see my best friend’s name that I automatically text back without pausing to think.