beckoned them over with an infectious grin.
‘Jess! Flo! Come here and listen to Mackenzie doing a Homer Simpson!’ Jodie bawled.
Fred turned towards her and Jess waited for a sign from him that things were OK. But somehow he seemed to fix his gaze on Flora instead, hesitating, his mouth half open, a quizzical frown hovering above his elusive grey eyes.
At this point the bell rang, and they trooped towards the door. Jess managed to position herself alongside Fred. They weren’t alone, but it was the next best thing.
‘Great about the band!’ she whispered. ‘But have you found the muns?’
‘I keep telling you.’ Fred turned and stared into her face for a split second, his eyes wide and panicky. ‘ You had it!’
‘But I’ve turned my room completely upside down!’ insisted Jess, her pulse racing. ‘There’s no sign of it! I know I did have it for the first few weeks, but then you took it – I’m sure.’
‘I did have some of it for a while,’ admitted Fred. ‘But then I gave it to you with all the paperwork – don’t you remember?’ He still looked jittery, though. Jess’s panic spiralled downwards. Her heart was hammering away like mad. What if they never found it? They’d have to cancel the whole thing and spend the rest of their lives working to pay people their money back. Aargh! She would never organise anything ever again. It was misery.
After all that, the French test was almost a blessed relief. For the rest of the day, Jess hardly had a chance to speak to Fred at all. At break she was in detention (history homework had caught up with her at last); at lunchtime Fred had yet more infuriating chess club practice, and after school he had to go off with Mr Dickson and the chess team because there was a match against St Benedict’s. Honestly! Why couldn’t he put the dinner dance first, just for a few days? Jess hadn’t had a chance even for a brief moment of shared hysteria.
She packed her bag with a heavy heart (not literally – she wasn’t into offal) and, sighing, wrapped her fave stripy scarf around her throat. It was another dark, frosty afternoon.
‘Come on,’ said Flora. ‘Let’s go to Jack’s.’ Jack had left school early for a dental appointment. ‘He’s texted me to say his face is still numb and he wants some TLC.’
‘Blokes are such wimps,’ sighed Jess. ‘Anyway, I should go home really.’
‘Just come for a few minutes,’ urged Flora. ‘It’s on your way. You’ll love Jack’s house. It’s amazing, but in a kind of unusual way. And it would be good for you to meet his mum before we go to Dorset.’
‘OK.’ Jess, though tormented, was still clinging on to the basics of politeness. Besides, she rather liked the idea of not going home right away – since Dad had arrived, there had been An Atmosphere. He hadn’t revealed his plans for what to do next, and it seemed he might be camping out in her bedroom for some time.
Normally Jess went home, ran upstairs, dived into her lovely welcoming chaotic den, flung her bag in the corner and jumped on to the bed with her teddy and her laptop. Not having her own room waiting for her made her feel a bit like a refugee – she wouldn’t be able to escape from Mum and Granny and, much as she loved them, she realised that having her own private space was essential to her sanity.
‘So did you get a chance to talk to Fred?’ asked Flora gently as they set off through the frosty white twinkling streets. ‘Has he got a band organised?’
‘Well,’ said Jess cautiously, ‘he said he’s fixed up a band at last – Frenzy, apparently.’ She still hadn’t told Flora about the missing money, because it seemed so completely and utterly lame.
‘Oh, that’s great,’ said Flora. ‘I’m sure they’ll be terrific! Plus there’s always the DJ and the disco! Cheer up, babe – it’s going to be brilliant!’
‘I know, I know!’ said Jess, trying to shake off her secret angst about the missing money.
‘Jess! Flo! Come here and listen to Mackenzie doing a Homer Simpson!’ Jodie bawled.
Fred turned towards her and Jess waited for a sign from him that things were OK. But somehow he seemed to fix his gaze on Flora instead, hesitating, his mouth half open, a quizzical frown hovering above his elusive grey eyes.
At this point the bell rang, and they trooped towards the door. Jess managed to position herself alongside Fred. They weren’t alone, but it was the next best thing.
‘Great about the band!’ she whispered. ‘But have you found the muns?’
‘I keep telling you.’ Fred turned and stared into her face for a split second, his eyes wide and panicky. ‘ You had it!’
‘But I’ve turned my room completely upside down!’ insisted Jess, her pulse racing. ‘There’s no sign of it! I know I did have it for the first few weeks, but then you took it – I’m sure.’
‘I did have some of it for a while,’ admitted Fred. ‘But then I gave it to you with all the paperwork – don’t you remember?’ He still looked jittery, though. Jess’s panic spiralled downwards. Her heart was hammering away like mad. What if they never found it? They’d have to cancel the whole thing and spend the rest of their lives working to pay people their money back. Aargh! She would never organise anything ever again. It was misery.
After all that, the French test was almost a blessed relief. For the rest of the day, Jess hardly had a chance to speak to Fred at all. At break she was in detention (history homework had caught up with her at last); at lunchtime Fred had yet more infuriating chess club practice, and after school he had to go off with Mr Dickson and the chess team because there was a match against St Benedict’s. Honestly! Why couldn’t he put the dinner dance first, just for a few days? Jess hadn’t had a chance even for a brief moment of shared hysteria.
She packed her bag with a heavy heart (not literally – she wasn’t into offal) and, sighing, wrapped her fave stripy scarf around her throat. It was another dark, frosty afternoon.
‘Come on,’ said Flora. ‘Let’s go to Jack’s.’ Jack had left school early for a dental appointment. ‘He’s texted me to say his face is still numb and he wants some TLC.’
‘Blokes are such wimps,’ sighed Jess. ‘Anyway, I should go home really.’
‘Just come for a few minutes,’ urged Flora. ‘It’s on your way. You’ll love Jack’s house. It’s amazing, but in a kind of unusual way. And it would be good for you to meet his mum before we go to Dorset.’
‘OK.’ Jess, though tormented, was still clinging on to the basics of politeness. Besides, she rather liked the idea of not going home right away – since Dad had arrived, there had been An Atmosphere. He hadn’t revealed his plans for what to do next, and it seemed he might be camping out in her bedroom for some time.
Normally Jess went home, ran upstairs, dived into her lovely welcoming chaotic den, flung her bag in the corner and jumped on to the bed with her teddy and her laptop. Not having her own room waiting for her made her feel a bit like a refugee – she wouldn’t be able to escape from Mum and Granny and, much as she loved them, she realised that having her own private space was essential to her sanity.
‘So did you get a chance to talk to Fred?’ asked Flora gently as they set off through the frosty white twinkling streets. ‘Has he got a band organised?’
‘Well,’ said Jess cautiously, ‘he said he’s fixed up a band at last – Frenzy, apparently.’ She still hadn’t told Flora about the missing money, because it seemed so completely and utterly lame.
‘Oh, that’s great,’ said Flora. ‘I’m sure they’ll be terrific! Plus there’s always the DJ and the disco! Cheer up, babe – it’s going to be brilliant!’
‘I know, I know!’ said Jess, trying to shake off her secret angst about the missing money.
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