How to Get the Friends You Want (4 page)

The Young Voices competition was only a few weeks away and we hadn't had a single practice. Jess got into a stress because Toby was still off school and we didn't know when he'd be back. It turned out he'd fallen off a wall at the weekend and hurt his ankle.

‘How long does a sprained ankle take to get better?' she said. ‘And why does he have to keep doing such stupid things?'

That seemed a bit harsh considering it wasn't a very big wall. He just landed badly.

I said, ‘Don't worry, he'll be fine, he's really good at public speaking.'

This was true. Last year we had got through to the regional semis with Toby's talk on Sir Hugh Munro, who made a list of all the highest mountains in Scotland and then tried to climb them. He would have managed it too, if he hadn't died just before the one he was saving for last. That's got to be the definition of bad luck.

We bagged the bench at the far side of the tennis courts at lunchtime and Jess read me her speech. It was called ‘Five Fascinating Facts.' Jess likes facts and she likes fives. She lives in a house called Five Trees and collects sets of five facts in her notebook.

‘Five is the perfect number of facts,' said Jess, reading from her notes. ‘It's not too many so you get confused, but it's enough to make you feel you know something worth knowing...'

Her speech included five fascinating facts about the Young Voices competition. It was really clever and interesting, and that's what I was planning to say in my vote of thanks.

We ran through it again to make double-sure it was the right length and then we walked back across the playground together. I told her about going to Sasha's house on Monday and how Sasha, Tammy and Abina had regular days for going round each other's houses.

‘Tonight they're going to Tammy's. Actually, I'm going too. You don't mind, do you?'

I didn't want Jess to think I wasn't still friends with her, just because I was hanging out with other people too.

‘Why should I mind?' she said.

I told her about going along to watch the netball and doing things just to support each other in that matching-set kind of way.

‘It sounds a bit boring, just watching,' she said. ‘I know five facts about netball – would you like to hear them?'

It turned out Jess also knew five facts about Polgotherick Mill when I told her that was where Tammy lived. It wasn't a mill any more, but the big wheel was still there on the side of the house, and so was the stream. You had to go over a little footbridge to get to the front door. I couldn't wait for school-out.

Tammy's dad picked us up in his seven-seater and we all piled into the back.

I don't know how, but we got talking about
Dennis. They thought it was odd, him living indoors.

‘What about all his pees and poos?' said Tammy.

‘He does them in his litter tray,' I said. ‘Rabbits are fully house-trainable.'

‘But if they were supposed to be indoors they wouldn't have all that fur,' Sasha said.

‘It can't be healthy for him,' agreed Abina.

‘He's very healthy,' I said, sticking up for him. ‘He's in tip-top condition! I'm putting him in the Polgotherick Pet Parade and I think he's going to win.'

‘You'll have to show Peony your rabbit, Tammy,' her dad said, over his shoulder.

Tammy's rabbit lived in a shed at the bottom of her garden. She was called Heavenly Honeybun. As soon as we got to Tammy's house, we went to see her.

Heavenly Honeybun didn't look anything like Dennis. She didn't look like a normal rabbit at all.

‘She's a Blue French Angora,' Tammy said proudly, not taking her out of her hutch.

Heavenly Honeybun had short, dark-grey fur on her face, but from the neck down her fur was long, fluffy and white. She looked like a grey rabbit wearing a sheepskin jacket.

I wanted to pick her up but Tammy said she
didn't like being handled. They had to wear heavy-duty gardening gloves to groom her.

‘You know what would be fun?' Tammy said, as we picked some grass to push through the mesh. ‘I could put Heavenly Honeybun in the pet parade too!'

‘I think it might be too late to enter now,' I said, really hoping it was.

We had a snack and then did a fitness DVD. Tammy said they always did fitness and homework at her house on Wednesdays, just the same as they always watched Vampire Girl on Mondays at Sasha's.

Having a schedule for homework was a much better system than mine. I always did my homework at the last minute and if something nice came up such as, for example, Gran coming over, I accidentally-on-purpose forgot it. No wonder Sasha, Tammy and Abina always came top in tests.

When we had finished our homework, they decided to practise their Young Voices presentation.

‘You can watch,' Sasha said. ‘You can tell us what you think.'

Abina introduced her, and then Sasha did her talk. She must have practised loads of times because she didn't even have any notes.

‘The subject of my talk is The World of Fashion...'

After she had finished, Abina invited questions from the audience, which was me. I managed to think of a few, and Sasha answered them perfectly. Then Tammy did the vote of thanks, and that was perfect too. It was all perfect.

They were obviously going to win. They won at everything. They were always the winning team. And that was fair, because they worked so hard to win. Not like me and Jess and Toby.

‘You're doing the vote of thanks for Jess, aren't you?' Sasha said. ‘She's very nice, isn't she... but just a little bit strange?'

They hadn't even heard her talk yet!

‘And is Toby your Chair?' asked Abina. ‘Why does he wear those shorts?'

They weren't being nasty, just saying facts, the way David Attenborough might say, ‘This eyeless mud-sucking fish is the ugliest creature on the planet' and not sound mean.

By the time I got home I was feeling a bit flat. So was Dad. The novelty was beginning to wear off and he was getting fed up with everyone calling him Daphne.

‘They'll stop soon,' Mum told him, flicking through her parsnip recipes.

‘Is Matt still here?' I said. I wanted to take Sam
for a walk and think about things.

‘Yes, he's upstairs watching TV with Primrose.'

‘So... where's Sam?'

Whenever Matt was at our house Sam stayed in the kitchen because he didn't like climbing the stairs.

‘Matt's decided not to bring him round any more for the time being,' Mum said. ‘How about parsnip fritters?'

My eyes suddenly felt prickly.

‘What do you mean, Matt's not bringing him round any more?'

‘His joints stiffen up in the cold weather so Matt thinks he'd be better staying home by the fire,' she said. ‘You can still see him every week at the kennels.'

Matt's family, the Teversons, owned the kennels in Hayden's Lane and I worked there, cleaning out the pens and walking the dogs on Saturday mornings.

‘Why don't you do Dennis's grooming?' said Mum.

I got Dennis's brush and sat down on the floor by the radiator. He came lolloping over to sniff me. I scooped him up onto my lap. He was cute and cuddly but he wasn't a wise old friend like Sam. He was soft and adorable but he wasn't a fancy rabbit like Heavenly Honeybun. I couldn't
help feeling just the teeniest weeniest bit disappointed in Dennis.

A bit later though, Dennis was everyone's hero. Well, everyone's except Mum's. She had put the box of parsnips on the floor beside the sink while she was looking through her recipes.

‘So parsnip fritters it is then,' she said, ‘with a nice brown onion sauce.'

She picked up the box and the bottom fell out. Wet parsnips crashed onto the floor.

‘Dennis has peed in the parsnips!' she cried.

So we never did get parsnip fritters. We had to have pizza instead.

Chapter 6
Becky's Tombola and Pookie the Pig

I told Sam about Dennis peeing in the parsnips. I was lying beside him on the floor in front of the stove in the Teversons' kitchen, stroking his wiry fur. Becky, the other Saturday helper, had said I could go in and see him while she was finishing up.

There was no-one else around. Matt was at our house, his brothers were making hay-bale tunnels in the barn, and Mrs Teverson was outside talking to some people about their dog.

‘I don't know what Sasha, Tammy and Abina would say if they knew Dennis peed in the parsnips,' I said to Sam. ‘I told them he was fully house-trained!'

Sam's tail thumped on the floor. Matt was probably right – he did seem happier staying home in the warm.

‘They already think Dennis should live out of doors,' I said. ‘Sasha says if rabbits were meant to live in the house they wouldn't have all that thick fur.'

I stroked Sam's sides, and his silky-smooth ears. They're the only part of him that hasn't gone wiry and grey. I caught his eye and it felt like he was saying to me, ‘Hold on a minute – that's mad! Dogs and cats are covered in fur too, but no-one thinks they should sleep outside!'

That's the great thing about talking to Sam – you can kind of see what he's thinking. I gave him a big hug, burying my face in his neck. It was going to be hard only seeing him once a week, but it would have been a lot harder if I couldn't see him at all.

Becky opened the door, kicked off her boots and came in. She had finished cleaning out the last pen and walking the last dog. Her short spiky hair was sticking out on one side from where she had pulled off her hat.

‘Ready when you are,' she told me, bending down to give Sam a pat.

In the summer we used to go to the beach cafe for a pasty when we finished at the kennels but the cafe was closed up for the winter so we'd started going to Becky's for a sandwich instead. Her house was on my way home.

Becky was older than me but she was living proof that not all teenagers were moody like Primrose – Mum really should stop saying it was just her hormones whenever she went off on one.

Becky was also proof that teenagers weren't just interested in boys and shopping, like you-know-who. She wanted to work for the RSPCA when she grew up, saving abandoned animals and stuff. She was having a tombola stall at the Polgotherick Pet Parade to raise money for them.

‘It's the perfect opportunity,' she said. ‘Everyone who goes to a pet parade is bound to be an animal-lover – my stall will make a fortune!'

I was helping her to get the prizes. I already had a copy of next year's Three Towns Gazette calendar from Dad, a mini Christmas tree in a pot from Mum and a recipe book from Gran – she had bought it and then remembered she already had a copy at home.

Me and Becky walked down the lane and over
the stile into the fields behind her house. It was a bright day but there was still frost under the hedges where the sun didn't reach.

‘Is Dennis ready for the big day?' she said.

‘Yes... I guess.'

‘What's wrong?'

I told her about Tammy's fancy Blue French Angora.

‘If Tammy puts Heavenly Honeybun in the pet parade, Dennis hasn't got a hope,' I said.

‘Looks aren't everything,' said Becky.

There was a parcel from the RSPCA waiting for her when we got back to her house. It was full of free leaflets and car stickers, pens, bookmarks and badges to put on her stall.

‘I was thinking of making some posters,' she said, ‘and a big sign-board to stand beside the table.'

She asked if I would like to stay and help her after lunch. Normally, I'd have loved to. But Sasha, Tammy and Abina were meeting at Abina's house at two-thirty, and they had invited me. I hardly had time to finish my sandwich before I had to go.

Becky didn't mind.

‘We could do it next week,' she suggested. ‘I could come down to yours afterwards and do a practice pet parade with Dennis. I'll be the judges and ask you lots of questions.'

This sounded like such a good idea, it almost seemed a shame I'd probably be at Abina's again.

Abina lived in one of the big new houses on the top road. It was only a five-minute walk from Becky's, and I got there just before Sasha. On the driveway, Abina and Tammy were passing a netball to each other and shooting at a hoop above the garage door.

‘Have you showed Peony Pookie yet?' asked Sasha. ‘She's going to love him!'

They all grinned at each other.

‘Come on!' they said together, in their matching-set way.

The back garden was a big square, divided in half by a wire fence. On our side of the fence there was a lawn with a few small trees; on the other side was bare earth... and a pot-bellied pig!

He grunted excitedly when he saw us and galloped up to the gate. He was about the same size as a Labrador or Golden Retriever, only much fatter. His skin was pink except for black patches across his face and shoulders and back legs, and thinly covered with bristles.

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