Authors: Jean Ure
Sugar and Spice (13 page)
“Well, of course I’d have been interested!”
Dunno why. She wasn’t interested before, when she was away doing something and I rang to ask what I was supposed to have for supper. She got quite stroppy and said, “Oh, for goodness’ sake! Can’t I even go away for one night? Just look in the fridge and help yourself!” In other words, LEAVE ME ALONE. I don’t want to be PESTERED.
I didn’t bother reminding her. I mean, really, why bother?
“I thought you’d be too busy,” I said.
The Vampire said well, yes, she had been busy. “But you could’ve always rung your dad.”
I told her that I’d tried. “He didn’t answer.”
At this the Vampire narrowed her eyes and breathed very deeply and said, “I see!” To which the Invisible Man immediately barked, “See what?”
“That you obviously had no desire to be contacted!” snarled the Vampire. “I wonder why not?”
Which set them off, all over again. I just left them to it. They’re as bad as each other and it drives me nuts. I wouldn’t care if they both went off and never came back. I can manage on my own. I’ve proved that! Course, I’d need some money, but there’s plenty of stuff here I could flog. Either that, or you know what. Well, I know what! Anyone else that might be reading this, ON PAIN OF DEATH, won’t have the least idea what I’m talking about. Which is fine by me! I don’t intend to spell it out. There’s ways; that’s all I’m gonna say. I WOULD NOT GO HUNGRY! You have to look out for yourself in this world and that’s what I aim to do. Gotta be prepared. I’ve been preparing since I was nine years old. No way am I just gonna sit in my bedroom and cry. Not again. Not ever.
They’re still at it, down there. Still carrying on. Probably one day they’ll split up and then they’ll be
quarrelling over which one’s gotta be responsible for me. SHE won’t wanna be, HE won’t wanna be.
WHO CARES???
Went round to Spice’s on Saturday for tea. We had all stuff that the Vampire won’t buy. Crisps and cakes and sticky puds. Pretty cool! The Vampire says it’s junk food and will make you F.A.T. She’s more terrified of F.A.T than anything else. I bet she’d sooner have a brain tumour than suffer F.A.T. I’m gonna buy her a trick tape measure for her birthday, so when she measures herself, like she does practically every week, she’ll think her waist’s expanded by about five centimetres and then won’t she SHRIEEEEEEK!
I reckon a bit of junk food would do her good – she looks like one of those wire coat hangers with clothes hung on it.
I think I’m gonna start eating junk food. I’m gonna get as fat as fat can be, so fat I can’t move. I’ll just, like, lie there, in a big jellified heap on the floor, and she’ll keep tripping over me, until in the end she has to stop and look, and see what it is, and she’ll discover that it’s ME. Her DAUGHTER. Shock horror! The shame of it. That’ll show her!
It was OK round Spice’s. Don’t think her mum likes me too much, but so what? I’m used to it. In any case, who needs to be liked? Not me! I can’t stand people that creep and crawl and are willing to do just ANYTHING to gain approval.
Spice’s little brother is quite cute. I guess I wouldn’t mind having a brother. I wouldn’t want a sister. NO THANK YOU! But a brother would be neat, so long as he was little, and then when the Vampire went off and the Invisible Man disappeared we’d be left by ourselves and I’d look out for him, see he was all right. I wouldn’t ever let him go hungry, or be frightened. He’d know there was nothing to worry about so long as I was there. But fat chance of the Vampire ever having another kid! She made one BIG MISTAKE having me – she’s not likely to do it again.
Dunno how Spice manages, though, not having her own space. Drive me bonkers that would. People around me all the time. Just ONE person’s all I’d want. But not the Vampire or the Invisible Man. Gotta be someone that really wants me.
Yeah! SOME HOPE.
On Monday, at school, Shay said to me, “Now that I’ve been round your place, I s’ppose you’d better come round mine.”
I was quite shocked! I was really surprised that she’d want to see me out of school It had to mean she looked on me as a real proper friend. After all, you don’t invite just anyone back. It has to be someone you like.
“What d’you reckon?” She was looking at me in that way that she did, like really
piercing.
If you were someone she didn’t rate, like one of the mindless blobs,
it could practically shrivel you on the spot. “This Saturday? Wanna come?”
I beamed and nodded and said, “Yes, please!”
“Won’t be anything special,” said Shay. “Not like round your place.”
She really thought my place was
special
?
“All that stuff your mum got in…won’t be anything like that.”
“Oh! Well, you know, she gets it from work.” It wasn’t any secret, now, that Mum worked in Tesco’s.
“Think she’d get you some garlic?” said Shay.
I said, “
Garlic?
What’d I want garlic for?”
“Protect yourself. Told you my mum was a vampire, didn’t I?”
I thought this was meant to be funny, so I laughed and waited for Shay to laugh, too. Instead, very solemnly, she said, “Best come prepared…don’t s’ppose you’ve got a crucifix by any chance?” Bewildered, I said, “N-no.” “Looks like it’ll have to be the garlic, then…they don’t like garlic.
Garlic and crucifixes. They’re the only protection – apart from a stake through the heart.”
I swallowed; I was getting a bit nervous. Not that I really thought Shay’s mum was a vampire, of course I didn’t! There aren’t such things as vampires. But what sort of woman was she?
“Oh, don’t worry,” said Shay. “She won’t get you. Doesn’t usually come out of her coffin till about five o’clock. But you’d better bring some garlic, just in case!”
Shay had this really wicked sense of humour. Like really ghoulish. The only trouble was I couldn’t always be sure when she was joking and when she was being serious. Sometimes it seemed like she was being both together.
Anyway, I said that I’d love to go round, and we agreed that we’d meet up at three o’clock in the shopping centre, on Saturday afternoon, and I’d go back with her. When I asked Mum, that evening, if it would be all right, Mum said, “Oh! Visiting the nobs, are we?”
I didn’t understand what she was talking about. I thought she meant
knobs,
like door knobs. Apparently she meant “nobs” as in posh people.
“Dunno what you’re going to wear,” said Mum. “I can’t afford to buy you new clothes.”
I said, “Why can’t I wear what I always wear?”
“Doesn’t look like you’ve got much choice.”
She’d noticed that when Shay came to visit, her clothes had been what Mum called “quality”. I hadn’t noticed cos I don’t think I’ve got much fashion sense, but Mum has an eye for these things. She said Shay’s gear was “all designer labels…ridiculous on a girl her age!” To me it had just been a black jacket and black jeans and black boots. Everything black!
“Yes, and everything costing a bomb,” said Mum. “Take it from me, she didn’t pick that lot up from British Home Stores. Well, I’m sorry! We just can’t afford to compete.”
I didn’t want to compete. I knew that I couldn’t, anyway; not with Shay. But Mum had gone and made me self-conscious, so that I looked at my clothes in the wardrobe, which I had to share with the Terrible Two, and for the first time thought how horrible and shabby they were. What had I worn last Saturday, when Shay came? A shapeless old coat that had once been quilted and was now sagging and flat. And
grey.
And
torn.
Boring blue joggers, all thin and baggy from too much washing. Ancient trainers, which had never been new in the first place. Well, they obviously had for someone, but not for me. We’d got them at a jumble sale in the church hall, which is where we get most of our clothes. It had never bothered me before, but suddenly I wanted designer labels, like Shay. Or if not designer labels, at least things that were
new,
and which I’d been able to choose for myself. Not all this stinky old stuff that had been worn by other people!
In spite of what she’d said, Mum was obviously anxious for me to make a good impression cos she came home the very next evening with a brand new top that she’d got from Tesco’s.
“I thought it would go quite well with your tartan skirt.”
Mum was right – it did. I just wished that I could be more grateful, cos I knew that money didn’t grow on trees and we had to count every penny, and the Terrible Two needed new shoes, and Mum and Dad hadn’t had a holiday in simply years, but oh, I’d have so loved to have had a new skirt as well!
And
to have chosen for myself.
Mum must have sensed that I wasn’t as enthusiastic as I should have been, cos quite sharply she said, “Well,
I’m sorry, it’s the best I can do. If you will choose friends that are out of your league …”
But I hadn’t! I hadn’t chosen Shay any more than I’d chosen my new top. Shay was the one who’d done the choosing. I said this to Mum, who said, “I can’t imagine what she picked on you for. You’ve got nothing in common! What have you got in common?”
That was something that had puzzled me. Shay was so sure of herself, so up-front, so…well! Independent. I was just plain ordinary Ruth, who wouldn’t say boo to a beetle. Why had she chosen
me
?
I didn’t know, but I was very glad that she had. Things were so much better, now that Shay was looking out for me. Nobody bullied me and nobody bothered me. I almost, even, quite enjoyed going to school, which meant Mum didn’t have to bellow and bawl at me every morning to get out of bed. Karina was still a bit of a problem as Amie Phillips didn’t seem to want anything to do with her and I felt bad when I saw her hanging out by herself, so that sometimes, when Shay wasn’t around, I tried talking to her. But I always ended up wishing that I hadn’t as she was so nasty and said such hateful things. Like one day it was, “I see she’s still got you in her clutches, then,” and another day, “Did she give you her
permission
?”
When she said that I got cross and snapped, “I don’t need permission! I can talk to whoever I like.”
Karina, looking sly, said, “Oh, yeah?”
I said, “Yeah!” And it was true. I didn’t need Shay’s permission to talk to her. I only waited till Shay wasn’t around cos I wanted to avoid unpleasantness. For Karina’s sake. I did it for Karina! But I was fast coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth it. I mean, I was going out of my way to be polite and friendly and she was just, like, sneering at me all the time. I decided that I wouldn’t bother any more.
On Saturday, when I set off to meet Shay in my nice new Tesco top – covered up, alas, by the same old tatty coat – Mum said, “How are you going to get back? I don’t want you crossing town by yourself in the dark!”
I’d been wondering about this, but I didn’t want Mum getting fussed and suddenly telling me I couldn’t go, so I brightly said that Shay’s mum or dad would bring me back and scooted off, quickly, towards the lift before Mum could ask any more awkward questions.
Shay was waiting for me in the shopping centre, perched on the rim of one of the big flower tubs outside WHSmith. She was wearing her black outfit again and this time I looked more closely and I saw that Mum was right, it was dead classy! And it really suited her. Mum, being a bit sniffy, had said that black was “no colour for a young girl”, but it wasn’t
all
black, cos the trousers had little flared bits with bright red flowers, and the top had red piping all round it, and in any case Shay didn’t look like a young girl, she looked more like about fifteen. She made me feel really babyish.
