Girls, Muddy, Moody Yet Magnificent (9 page)

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17

‘Who was that?’ said Mum suspiciously. ‘Was it Toby?’

‘No, no, no!’ I snapped.

‘Who was it, then?’

‘Nobody. Nothing.’

Dad was bringing the aubergine parmigiana to the table. It smelt superb, but my brain was jarred. I tried to tune back into the row I’d been having with Mum, but Beast’s visit had been so distracting, I couldn’t think of anything else for a moment. Why on earth would he do such a thing? When he knew I disapproved of him? Was it all some kind of tasteless charade? Was he just trying to humiliate me? If I’d agreed to the date, I bet he wouldn’t have showed up, and left me hanging about looking like a lemon. Why? Was it revenge for my disapproval of him and Chloe?

‘Zoe? Anything wrong, old boy? Dinner too salty or something?’ Dad’s anxious face bobbed into my vision. I shook myself back into the here and now.

‘It’s delicious, Dad,’ I assured him. It was, too. But somehow I had so little appetite, it might as well have been cardboard. I kept on chewing. You don’t really need to chew aubergine parmigiana all that much, actually: it’s a bit like lasagne, kind of baby food for grown-ups. But I was having trouble getting every mouthful down.

‘Now, regarding this wretched holiday row which keeps grumbling on,’ said Mum, ‘we’ve got to get things sorted and clear the air. We’re planning a week away at the end of August . . .’

‘Sorry, but I’m not coming,’ I said. I didn’t mention Newquay, though I knew it was all part of Mum’s cunning plan to get me to abandon it.

‘You don’t even know where we’re going yet,’ said Mum coaxingly.

‘Where are you going, then?’ I sighed. Mum looked shifty.

‘We’re not sure yet,’ she said. ‘Somewhere nice. You can help us decide. You might be able to come, too, Tam.’

Tam looked startled and anxious.

‘Oh – actually,’ she said, ‘normally I’d love to come with you guys and stuff, but I’ve promised Parv that I’ll go up and see her at the end of August.’ I knew that was a lie. She wanted to stay here while Mum and Dad were away, so she could have naughty lunches out in the country with her precious Ed while Little Bear and Twinkle waited tearfully for Daddy to come back home.

I gave Tam a hard, aggressive stare. She looked away, trying to appear normal. A horrid pang of heartburn went soaring up my throat. Indigestion! Or possibly a heart attack? OK, I was a tad young for a coronary, but they do say stress is the worst factor. And I had certainly never been so stressed out in my entire life. I put down my knife and fork and started sipping water. Dad noticed right away.

‘Are you OK, old boy?’ he enquired. ‘I hope I haven’t accidentally poisoned you.’

‘No, Dad,’ I sighed, massaging my tummy. ‘The dinner’s lovely. It’s just all this aggravation.’

Dad looked sympathetic. Mum was glaring at me.

‘Do you want an indigestion pill?’ she demanded, getting up and going to the dresser. I didn’t like her tone. When Tam had been laid low by her ‘appendicitis’ Mum had been tender and loving. With me, it was Throw It A Pill. She offered me one of those peppermint-and-chalk things that taste revolting.

‘No, thanks,’ I said. ‘I think I’ll go to my room. Excuse me.’ Politeness, when icy, can be more insulting than rudeness. I hoped so anyway.

I went upstairs and instantly called Toby on my moby. Normally I’d have enjoyed that little rhyme, but today my mood was so black, nothing was going to cheer me up.

‘Tobe!’ I cried. ‘My mum still says I can’t come!’

‘Don’t give up,’ urged Toby. ‘It took me three weeks to convince my mum.’

‘I’ll never convince her,’ I sighed bitterly. ‘I might just have to run away. What’s this place you’ve found?’ I was even more desperate for details of Newquay now that it was forbidden fruit.

‘Well, Fergus’s cousin Gary, right? He’s got a mate, and his mate’s uncle’s got a garage on the road into Newquay, and there’s a bit of rough ground out the back, and he says we can camp there. It’s right next to the loos, so that’ll be – uh – convenient.’

‘What?!’ I gasped in disgust. This sounded about as manky as accommodation has ever been. Fergus’s cousin Gary is a famously sordid person, but I was amazed that even he had thought that camping on some rough ground next to some public loos behind a garage might be a good idea. ‘Toby, I’m sorry, but it sounds grotesque! For a minute I’m almost relieved my mum has said I can’t go!’

‘Hmmm . . . I’m slightly glad you’ve said that, actually,’ admitted Toby. ‘I was wondering how I could survive without a daily shower. But it is free.’

‘So is getting run over!’ I reminded him. ‘And the reason it’s free is that nobody in their right mind would camp there even if they were being paid.’

‘That’s a bit harsh,’ said Toby. ‘You haven’t even seen it.’

‘Toby, I can imagine exactly what it’s like,’ I said. ‘I bet there are rusting old cars everywhere . . .’

‘Not many, apparently,’ said Toby sounding furtive.

‘And rats.’

‘I shouldn’t think so.’

‘But anyway, Tobe, Fergus’s cousin Gary is a sleaze ball. I just know that this uncle’s garage will be covered in girlie calendars, pools of oil and leering mechanics. It’s just not the sort of place you’d want to take a lady.’

‘You’re right,’ said Toby. ‘I’m almost too ladylike for it myself. But I might have to go, if Fergus puts his tiny foot down. What about you, though?’

‘My mum will change her mind,’ I promised him firmly. ‘Or I’m leaving home.’

‘Oh,’ said Toby. ‘OK, then. If you want to leave home right away, you can live in my garden shed with my hamsters, if you like. I’ll put out a saucer of bread and milk for you every night.’ I promised that, were I to become homeless, Toby’s hamsters would have a new room-mate. But I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that. My mum might yet weaken and capitulate. I might manage to slip a surrendering kind of herb into her tea.

‘I’m going to get my dad to work on her,’ I told him. ‘Listen – the thought of a week in Newquay is the only thing that’s keeping me going.’

We agreed that if Newquay was impossible, a suicide pact might become necessary, though we couldn’t agree on the means. I wanted as violent a death as possible, involving a ski lift, a speed boat, a helicopter and a shoal of piranha fish, but Tobe just wanted to pass away peacefully in his bed from an overdose of marshmallows.

I rang off feeling a little better, though it’s a sign of how bad things have got if you’re cheered up by a conversation about stylish ways to end it all.

There was a tap on the door and Tam peeped round. She looked furtive.

‘Are you OK?’ she whispered. ‘Can I come in?’ I made room for her on the bed. ‘It’s a nightmare, this plan of Mum’s for a family hol,’ she said. ‘But I’m sure we can crack it. Mum’s downstairs watching
French and Saunders
. Dad’s in his study. We’ve got to get him on our side.’

‘How are we supposed to do that?’ I asked with a sigh. My brain felt slow and frazzled. Tam was going to have to do all the thinking.

‘We’ve got to make him realise how much more wonderful and romantic it would be if it was just him and Mum having a lovely little holiday, a kind of second honeymoon, just the two of them, with candlelit dinners and lots of old churches and stuff. Let’s corner him in his study,’ whispered Tam. ‘We’ve got to do a big matchmaking act – with our own parents.’

‘Yuck,’ I murmured as we tiptoed across the landing to Dad’s door. ‘Gross!’

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18

We crept into Dad’s room. He was listening to Queen as usual – Dad always has this on when he’s stuck with his work designing scientific websites. He sat staring at his computer screen and thoughtfully cradling a glass of red wine. Tam wrapped her arms around his neck. I sat on the floor, rested my head on his knee and played with his shoelaces. This has been my favourite trick since I was three.

‘No, you can’t have any money,’ said Dad playfully.

‘Money!’ exclaimed Tam. ‘Don’t be so vulgar. Money’s not an issue. Zoe’s got a job, and I’ve been slaving away at the Turk’s Head for more than a month – or haven’t you noticed?’

‘We think you and Mum deserve a holiday on your own,’ I said, removing his shoe and giving him a foot massage. ‘Think how romantic it would be, just you and Mum together, like when you were students.’

‘Romantic candlelit dinners,’ sighed Tam, playing with his hair. ‘Hours and hours in museums without us getting all bored and tetchy.’

‘No horrid teenager demanding to leave the art gallery instantly in order to flog round boutiques for hours on end,’ I added, stroking his ankles.

‘Look,’ said Dad, putting down his wine and rubbing his nose thoughtfully. Nose-rubbing is always a sign that somebody has reservations about something – well, you can’t imagine somebody saying ‘Marry me, I love you madly’
while rubbing their nose, can you? I’m thinking of reading body language at uni.

‘I know you two have got other fish to fry at the end of August,’ Dad went on. ‘God knows what you’re planning and, frankly, if it was up to me, I’d just let you get on with it, as long as I didn’t have to know anything about it.’

‘Yes,’ crooned Tam, playing with his ears. ‘That shows what a fabulous dad you are.’

‘No,’ said Dad. ‘It shows what an irresponsible selfish prat I am, actually – though of course, if anybody ever even dreamed of hurting either of you, I would kill them with my bare hands.’

Tam and I exchanged a look, but we managed not to laugh. The idea of Dad killing anything with his bare hands is a joke. He has a crisis of conscience even if you ask him to swat a wasp.

‘But Mum’s trip isn’t booked yet,’ he went on. ‘Anything could happen to stop it.’

‘But we don’t want you
not
to have a hol, Dadda!’ cried Tam, stroking his hair. ‘You and Mum must go away and chill and have quality time all to yourselves. Away from the hurly-burly of us.’

‘Yeah, right,’ I sighed. ‘Tam’s the nearest thing to Liz Hurley available locally, and I’m as burly as can be!’ I was beginning to feel better. Dad’s attitude to Mum’s holiday plans was encouraging. He plainly wasn’t exactly gagging for us all to be trapped on holiday together.

‘To be honest,’ he said, ‘I think she might like the idea of just the two of us going walking in North Wales.’

‘Yes, yes!’ said Tam. ‘Think of the lovely ferns and rocks and little tea rooms.’

‘That reminds me,’ I interrupted, ‘supper was delicious. I just couldn’t eat because I was fed up with everybody. I’ll go down and heat a bit up in the microwave in a minute.’ Dad looked pleased. I think he’s touched that I have inherited his greed.

‘So,’ said Tam, ‘do a Google search on romantic B&Bs in Snowdonia – or cosy cottages with log fires and beams.’

‘I’ll run it past the boss,’ said Dad, smiling.

‘Great!’ Tam grinned, and kissed the top of his head. ‘Just don’t tell her we had this conversation.’

‘What conversation?’ Dad shrugged theatrically and placed his finger on his lips. He was definitely on our side. The trouble is, he’s so easy-going. His idea of standing up to Mum is lying down and letting her drive over him – in a tank. In their previous lives, he was a harmless vole and she was a boa constrictor.

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Next morning I met Chloe at the bus stop as usual. I couldn’t wait to confide all the ghastly details of the previous evening. Not the bit about Beast asking me out, though. That was top of my list of Things to Hide from Chloe. What if I told her he’d tried to hit on me, and she was still secretly crazy about him? She’d go ballistic. I had the feeling I didn’t want to discuss Beast with Chloe ever again. It was all becoming so tormented.

‘Hey, Zoe, mega-disaster!’ She grabbed me, her eyes blazing with melodrama. ‘I spent hours online yesterday looking for places to stay in Newquay, and there’s literally zilch! All the caravan sites really are for couples and families only. I looked at hundreds of places.’

‘Well, that’s the least of our problems,’ I told her. ‘My mum’s still adamant that I can’t go at all. What about your mum?’

‘My mum was OK about it,’ said Chloe. ‘She said she thought we’d be all right as long as we stuck together
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I had to solemnly swear I wouldn’t drink, though.’

‘God! Your mum is so great!’ I sighed enviously. ‘I have to think of a way to get mine on board. She’s threatening to take me and Tam away on a horrendous family hol, now.’

Chloe looked anxious, because her mum’s permission clearly depended on our being in Newquay together, joined at the hip and drinking only lemonade. We were a bit quiet on the bus, and later in the field, we worked separately, lost in our thoughts. I had so many issues, I couldn’t hold it all in my head at once: Mum’s stupid strictness, Tam’s secret adultery, Beast’s astonishing visit last night . . .

‘Newquay looks even more fabulous than I thought it would,’ sighed Chloe as we approached lunchtime. ‘God! There’s clubs and bowling and gyms and aerobics studios and swimming pools with flumes and . . . oh God, if only we were old enough to stay at Blue Flash Surf Lodge! They’ve got a late-licensed seventies retro bar and everything! But it’s over-eighteens only . . .’

‘Even if it was under-eighteens,’ I reminded her, ‘my mum won’t let me go. I think I may have to leave home. Toby’s already offered me accommodation in his garden shed.’

I told Chloe about Toby and Fergus’s plan to camp behind the garage. She wasn’t as disgusted as I’d have expected.

‘I don’t know, Zoe,’ she said. ‘It might be OK . . . Have you got a tent? It might be OK as a last resort.’

‘Chloe,’ I said patiently, ‘did you not hear what I said? My mum won’t let me go.’

Chloe sat back on her heels and stared soberly at me for a minute. Then she thoughtfully picked her nose and flicked the bogey away across the rows of carrots.

‘Oh God, Zoe,’ she said. ‘What are we going to do? And I’ve just persuaded my mum and everything . . .’

She stared dismally away towards a clump of trees. Suddenly an ice-cold thought entered my brain like a dagger. What if Chloe decided to go with Toby and Fergus and leave me behind? My imagination went into horror overdrive. This was the worst nightmare scenario so far.