Read Missing Ellen Online

Authors: Natasha Mac a'Bháird

Missing Ellen (10 page)

I sighed. ‘OK. I’ll go if you really want me to. And if Mum says I can.’ I have to admit, part of me was hoping Mum would just say no.

‘Oh thank you, thank you, thank you,’ Ellen grabbed my hands and whirled me around. ‘You’ve saved me from an excruciating game of piggy in the middle with Dad and the Homewrecker. Plus Dad really likes you. He thinks you’re a good influence.’

A good influence. Well, it makes a change from Sensible, or So Reliable, or Such a Good Girl. All the things I wish I wasn’t, but don’t know where to start not being.

Mum said yes, of course. Ellen asked her for me, when she picked us up from school, so I had no chance of getting out of it.

Ellen’s dad collected us from Java Bay. ‘So, what do you two ladies fancy doing this afternoon?’

Ellen said she wanted to go shopping, because she
absolutely 
needed a new jacket for school, and some sparkly shoes to go with her sparkly top, and some boring things like a new folder and some pencils for art. Her dad laughed and said that he thought that could be arranged.

‘And then can we go to the cinema, to the early showing, and then to Pizza Hut for dinner?’

I grinned to myself. Ellen obviously didn’t want to go to the later show in the cinema in case anyone would see her with her dad, as if she was a child.

‘Cinema sounds good.’ Her dad kept his eyes firmly on the road, even though we had just stopped at a red light, and weren’t going to be moving any time soon. ‘About tonight though. I’m really sorry, sweetheart, but I have a work thing I have to go to. I can order a takeaway pizza for you girls though, and we can pick up a couple of DVDs. You can have a girls’ night in, then I’ll take you out for pancakes in the morning, OK?’

‘You’re going out?’ Ellen said in disbelief. ‘On the one night I’m staying over?’

‘Sorry, sweetheart. I can’t help it. It just came up.’

‘I suppose the Homewrecker is going too,’ Ellen snapped.

Mr B looked annoyed. ‘I’ve asked you not to use that word, Ellen. Yes, Sandra will be there, but that’s got nothing to do with it. Some very important clients are in town, and I have to take them out for dinner.’

‘On the ONE night I’m here,’ Ellen repeated.

‘If I could change it I would,’ her dad said. ‘Why don’t you come over next Saturday with Robert? We’ll do something nice, just the three of us.’

‘Forget it,’ Ellen said. ‘I’m busy next Saturday. If you can’t change your plans for me, I’m certainly not going to change mine for you.’

I pretended to be deeply engrossed in my mobile, reading the same text again and again. Why did Ellen always have to row with her parents in front of me? It was so embarrassing. Though I definitely didn’t blame her for being mad.

Ellen barely spoke to her father for the rest of the day. I tried to cover up the silences a bit by answering all his
questions
and chatting about Jamie and Robert. I even ended up choosing the DVD, because Ellen wouldn’t. I chose
Mamma Mia
, thinking it might cheer Ellen up. She loves musicals.

Mr B’s new house was like something out of a film. The entrance hall was huge, with an oak staircase, and acres of snow white carpet. The kitchen was tiled in black and white and filled with shiny gadgets and appliances, although the coffee maker was the only thing that looked like it had
actually
been used. I couldn’t imagine Robert’s muddy football boots trekking across the carpet, or his artwork stuck to the stainless steel American fridge freezer, which didn’t have so much as a smudged fingerprint on it.

Ellen brightened up a lot as soon as Mr B left for his work thing (after about twenty more apologies).

‘So what kind of pizza do you want?’ she asked.

‘Veggie, I guess. At least that way we’re getting some of our five a day.’

She rolled her eyes at me. ‘I don’t think a few peppers is going to turn pizza into a health food, but OK.’

She picked up the phone and dialled the local pizza place. ‘Hi, can I get some food delivered please? A large veggie pizza – no gross mushrooms though. Two diet Cokes. Some wedges. Oh and two tubs of Häagen Dazs please.’

‘Ellen,’ I hissed, ‘I’m not sure we’ve got enough money.’

For answer, Ellen simply held up her dad’s credit card and smiled. She read out the details over the phone. ‘How long will that be? Great, thanks.’

She hung up the phone. ‘He said about half an hour. How about doing a bit of internet shopping while we wait?
Darling
Daddy’s treat.’

‘Oh Ellen, I don’t think we should,’ I began.

‘Oh Maggie, don’t start going all goody-two-shoes on me,’ Ellen said. She leaned against the kitchen counter and switched on her dad’s laptop. ‘If he’s not going to spend time with his only daughter, the least he can do is get me a few treats. Anything you’d like? How about some new fashion books? Or do you need some material?’

‘I’m going to watch the DVD. You’re welcome to come and join me when you’ve finished spending money that’s not yours.’ 

I marched into the sitting room, hoping Ellen would decide internet fraud wasn’t as much fun without an
audience
. She followed me into the sitting room, sighing. I took no notice and put on the DVD. Within a few minutes she’d forgotten she was annoyed with me and was singing along with the soundtrack.

I’m not sure if it was the enormous meal of pizza, wedges and ice cream, or just the film, but I dozed off on the couch. When I woke, Ellen was in the kitchen, talking to someone on the phone.

‘That was Pete,’ she announced. ‘He’s going to come over. You don’t mind, do you?’

‘No,’ I said automatically, but I did mind. This was
supposed
to be a girls’ night in, not Pete and Ellen snogging on the couch while Maggie plays gooseberry.

Ellen must have known what I was thinking. ‘Don’t worry, he’s bringing a few of his mates too. One of them is the drummer from the band. He’s really cute.’

‘Cute, as in actually cute, or cute, as in, he’s a complete minger but he’ll keep me occupied so you can have some alone time with Pete?’

‘Oh Maggie, you’re so cynical. He’s cute cute. Not as cute as Pete maybe, but then who is?’

It was a pretty grim outlook, if Pete was the new standard against which all males would be judged.

‘Won’t your dad mind?’ I asked. I could just imagine what
my dad would have to say if he arrived home to find a gang of older guys he didn’t know lounging around in his sitting room.

‘He won’t be home on time,’ Ellen said. ‘Those work things always run really late. I’ll make sure Pete and his mates are long gone by the time he gets home.’

Ellen started to tidy up the empty pizza boxes. I took the ice cream bowls into the kitchen and put them in the
dishwasher
. When I got back into the sitting room Ellen was standing precariously on the edge on an armchair,
examining
her dad’s CD collection. ‘God, Dad has the worst taste in music,’ she complained. ‘I can’t put on any of this stuff. Who the hell is Prince?’

‘No idea. He must have something that will do? Beatles, Elvis?’

‘Nope, they’re way too cool for my dad. What are we going to do? These guys are in a band. They’ll think I don’t know anything about music.’

‘What about your iPod?’ I suggested. ‘Doesn’t your dad have a docking station?’

Ellen’s face brightened immediately. ‘I’d forgotten about that. It’s in his bedroom I think. I’ll go and get it. You see if there’s any beer in the fridge.’

‘Ellen, we can’t just give them your dad’s beer!’ I objected. ‘He’d definitely notice that!’

‘Well, see how many there are,’ Ellen said over her
shoulder 
as she left the room. ‘I’m sure he hasn’t counted them!’

I checked the fridge. There were eight bottles of beer, which was kind of an unfortunate number – big enough that Ellen would think it was OK to hand them round to the band, but small enough that Mr B couldn’t possibly not notice that some were missing.

Ellen reappeared with the docking station, plugged it in beside the TV and started flicking through the playlists.

The doorbell rang, and Ellen rushed to open it. Pete stood on the doorstep. He was wearing a long-sleeved black T-shirt with a heavy metal band on the front, and there were stains on his jeans. His hair hung loose around his face, greasy and lank. Beside him stood a smaller guy, similarly dressed, though at least his jeans were clean. I recognised him as the drummer from the band. Cute he was not.

I peered over his shoulder, but there was no one else there. I wasn’t exactly dying to see the rest of the band, but just two of them was even worse, especially when one of them was going out with one of us.

‘You found us! Come on in,’ Ellen said, grabbing Pete’s arm. ‘Hi, Spider. This is my friend Maggie.’

‘The one I was telling you about,’ Pete said, nudging him.

‘Hey,’ said Spider, raising one hand in a kind of half-wave. He followed Pete into the hall.

Ellen was talking at top speed, as she often does when she’s nervous. ‘Come on through. I’ve got some music on. Do you
like Electrified? I love this new album. It’s kind of like
Flaming
Moes, don’t you think? What can I get you to drink?’

By this time we were all seated in the sitting room, Ellen with the two guys on the couch, Pete in the middle. I’d settled myself in an armchair as far from Spider as possible without being too obvious.

Ellen jumped up again just as soon as she had sat down and stood like a waitress waiting to take their orders.

‘What kind of beer do you have?’ Pete asked.

‘Only Becks I’m afraid. I’d have got some more in if I’d known you were coming, but it was kind of a spur of the moment thing,’ Ellen said.

Or they could have brought something with them, I thought, instead of turning up on the doorstep with one arm as long as the other, as my mum would say. They knew we were still at school and had no money, whereas
presumably
they had some kind of an income, even if it was only the dole.

‘Becks will do fine,’ Pete said. He spread his arms out along the back of the couch and surveyed the room, taking in the huge plasma TV and the solitary photo of Ellen and Robert on the mantelpiece.

Ellen was gone a long time getting the drinks. I wished I’d offered to go instead. The silence stretched on. Feeling desperately uncomfortable, I searched for something to talk about. Although Pete and Spider (what a ridiculous name)
seemed happy enough just sitting. Spider was drumming his fingers on his knees in time with the beat from Ellen’s iPod.

Eventually I said, ‘Any gigs coming up?’

‘We’re playing Keogh’s again next Saturday,’ said Spider.

‘Oh … that’s nice,’ I said. He didn’t respond, and I couldn’t think of a single other thing to say to them. We had nothing in common except Ellen.

Ellen came back in with four bottles of beer. ‘Sorry I was so long. I went to the garage to get more beer to stick in the fridge.’

She passed around the beers and the three of them started talking about bands, and some obscure singer who’s written a novel which is due out later this year, and how to get your hands on a draft copy on the net. I took tiny sips from my beer and wondered what exactly Pete had told Spider about me.

I soon found out. I was in the kitchen, emptying a large bag of nachos into a bowl, when Spider came in.

‘So, you’re the fairy tale princess then, are you?’ he asked. ‘How does that work then? Do you have to disappear on the stroke of midnight?’

I didn’t much like the way he was looking at me. As if I was something he thought he might quite like to eat or something.

‘Not exactly,’ I said, trying to laugh it off. ‘It’s just my folks
are pretty strict about curfew – you know how parents can be.’

He smiled. ‘No parents to worry about tonight, though. You’re staying over, right?’

What exactly was he planning? ‘Well, yes, but Ellen’s dad will be back later.’

‘Not too soon, I hope.’

Suddenly he was standing behind me and had his arm around my waist. I felt panic rise up within my throat. I moved away, reaching into a cupboard for some dips, taking a deep breath and deciding to act like nothing had
happened
. ‘Do you like chilli, or sour cream and onion? Or both, should I just put out both?’

‘What I’d really like,’ he murmured, coming over and standing far too close to me again, though not touching this time, ‘is to find out what princesses taste like.’

He ran his tongue along his lip in what he seemed to think was a flirtatious gesture, but which just made me want to vomit.

‘Ha, ha, none of that on the menu tonight I’m afraid.’ I tried to keep my voice light and breezy. I stepped away again, holding the bowl of nachos between us. Once more he moved after me. I had to fight every instinct not to just drop the bowl and run.

‘Let’s go back in to the others, will we? I’m sure they’re wondering where we’ve got to.’

‘I’m sure they’ve got better things to worry about,’ Spider
said. ‘You don’t want to disturb the love birds, now do you?’

Somehow I’d crossed the room and was at the sitting room door. I glanced over my shoulder, not wanting to turn my back on him. Ellen and Pete were on the couch practically welded together from the lips down. Well, too bad, I thought. Ellen had asked me to spend the weekend with her, not to hide out in the kitchen fighting off Spider just to keep him away from her and Pete.

‘Anyone for nachos?’ I said loudly, pushing the door open with my hip. It swung shut behind me, right in Spider’s face. I pretended not to notice.

I tried not to look at Ellen and Pete as they reluctantly moved apart, concentrating instead on lowering the bowl of nachos onto the coffee table without toppling the tower of dips in my other hand.

‘Nachos. Great,’ Ellen said, leaning forward and grabbing a handful.

Spider had come silently into the room and sat down in the armchair I’d been in. I wondered briefly about his
nickname
. Had he got it from the way he crept quietly in and out of rooms, like some horrible creepy-crawly? Or was it because of those long, skinny limbs? Either way, I decided, it suited him.

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