I’m not going to go anywhere. Oh God, what am I going to do about school? How can I ever bear to see Magda again?
She phones the next morning. Dad answers and says I’m still asleep. Magda phones again after lunch. Anna answers this time and eventually says, “Ellie doesn’t
want
to talk to you just now, Magda.”
Magda doesn’t seem to get the message. There’s a knock on the front door just as we’re sitting down to tea. It’s Magda’s special knock, three long raps and then two quick ones, like a little fanfare announcing her arrival.
I groan and get up. “Anna, it’s Magda. Please, tell her to go
away
.”
“Don’t you think it might be a good idea to talk things through with her?” Dad suggests. “Maybe you ought to hear her side of things, Ellie. You don’t want to break friends altogether over this, do you?”
“Oh, Dad, I can’t
ever
be friends with Magda now,” I say, and I rush upstairs to my room.
I lean against the door and put loud music on to drown out the sound of Magda downstairs. I wait and wait and wait. And then eventually Anna comes and knocks on the door.
“It’s me, Ellie. It’s OK, Magda’s gone. She’s so upset. She’s desperate to try to explain. She kept on to me about her hamster.”
“
What?
Oh, for goodness’ sake!” A wave of fury dries my tears. “Does Magda think that just because her stupid hamster died that’s a perfectly adequate excuse to snog my boyfriend?”
“I wish you wouldn’t use that word, Ellie,” Anna says gently. “It sounds so ugly.”
“It
is
ugly. This whole Magda and Russell situation is ugly ugly ugly. I’m never going to speak to either of them ever again.”
I don’t want to speak to anyone, not even Anna. I won’t come down for my tea. I stay up in my room. I lie on my bed. I sit up and punch my pillow again and again and again. I cry. I sleep. When I wake up I forget just for a second and start thinking happy thoughts about Russell, reaching for my ring—but my finger is bare and I remember that it’s all over.
I can’t stay hiding in my room forever.
It’s Monday. I have to go to school, even though I’ve still got my lousy cold.
I take such a long time getting ready that I’m very late. I miss the bus. I don’t care. I dawdle, not wanting to bump into Kev again because I’ll feel so embarrassed. He was so wonderfully sweet to me but he must think me such an idiot.
I plod very very slowly. I’m so late getting to school that the prefect with the late book has gone off to her own lessons so I miss out on a detention. I couldn’t care less one way or the other. School seems so amazingly stupid and petty that I can’t be bothered with it. I’ve half a mind to slope straight out again—but Mrs. Henderson comes jogging along the corridor, wielding a big bag of new netballs. She stops short.
“Eleanor Allard! You weren’t at registration. Good heavens, girl, you’re spectacularly late today. I’m waiting with bated breath for your excuse.”
I sigh. “I haven’t really got an excuse, Mrs. Henderson.”
Mrs. Henderson frowns. I wait for her to inflict some kind of ferocious punishment on me. Perhaps she’ll bounce her bag of netballs on my head. She’s threatened me with worse. But she drops the bag altogether. Several netballs fall out and roll along the corridor. She tuts but she doesn’t go after them. She bends close, peering at me.
“What’s up, Ellie?” she asks gently.
Oh no. I don’t want her to be kind. If she yells and shouts I can stare her out and act like I don’t care. But if she’s sweet to me I’ll collapse. I can already feel tears prickling in my eyes. I can’t cry. Not here, not at school.
I swallow hard, trying to stay in control.
“OK, Ellie. I can see you don’t really want to talk about it. Don’t worry, I’m not going to press you. But can you just tell me if it’s trouble at home? Trouble with friends? Trouble with your love life?”
“It’s all of
She phones the next morning. Dad answers and says I’m still asleep. Magda phones again after lunch. Anna answers this time and eventually says, “Ellie doesn’t
want
to talk to you just now, Magda.”
Magda doesn’t seem to get the message. There’s a knock on the front door just as we’re sitting down to tea. It’s Magda’s special knock, three long raps and then two quick ones, like a little fanfare announcing her arrival.
I groan and get up. “Anna, it’s Magda. Please, tell her to go
away
.”
“Don’t you think it might be a good idea to talk things through with her?” Dad suggests. “Maybe you ought to hear her side of things, Ellie. You don’t want to break friends altogether over this, do you?”
“Oh, Dad, I can’t
ever
be friends with Magda now,” I say, and I rush upstairs to my room.
I lean against the door and put loud music on to drown out the sound of Magda downstairs. I wait and wait and wait. And then eventually Anna comes and knocks on the door.
“It’s me, Ellie. It’s OK, Magda’s gone. She’s so upset. She’s desperate to try to explain. She kept on to me about her hamster.”
“
What?
Oh, for goodness’ sake!” A wave of fury dries my tears. “Does Magda think that just because her stupid hamster died that’s a perfectly adequate excuse to snog my boyfriend?”
“I wish you wouldn’t use that word, Ellie,” Anna says gently. “It sounds so ugly.”
“It
is
ugly. This whole Magda and Russell situation is ugly ugly ugly. I’m never going to speak to either of them ever again.”
I don’t want to speak to anyone, not even Anna. I won’t come down for my tea. I stay up in my room. I lie on my bed. I sit up and punch my pillow again and again and again. I cry. I sleep. When I wake up I forget just for a second and start thinking happy thoughts about Russell, reaching for my ring—but my finger is bare and I remember that it’s all over.
I can’t stay hiding in my room forever.
It’s Monday. I have to go to school, even though I’ve still got my lousy cold.
I take such a long time getting ready that I’m very late. I miss the bus. I don’t care. I dawdle, not wanting to bump into Kev again because I’ll feel so embarrassed. He was so wonderfully sweet to me but he must think me such an idiot.
I plod very very slowly. I’m so late getting to school that the prefect with the late book has gone off to her own lessons so I miss out on a detention. I couldn’t care less one way or the other. School seems so amazingly stupid and petty that I can’t be bothered with it. I’ve half a mind to slope straight out again—but Mrs. Henderson comes jogging along the corridor, wielding a big bag of new netballs. She stops short.
“Eleanor Allard! You weren’t at registration. Good heavens, girl, you’re spectacularly late today. I’m waiting with bated breath for your excuse.”
I sigh. “I haven’t really got an excuse, Mrs. Henderson.”
Mrs. Henderson frowns. I wait for her to inflict some kind of ferocious punishment on me. Perhaps she’ll bounce her bag of netballs on my head. She’s threatened me with worse. But she drops the bag altogether. Several netballs fall out and roll along the corridor. She tuts but she doesn’t go after them. She bends close, peering at me.
“What’s up, Ellie?” she asks gently.
Oh no. I don’t want her to be kind. If she yells and shouts I can stare her out and act like I don’t care. But if she’s sweet to me I’ll collapse. I can already feel tears prickling in my eyes. I can’t cry. Not here, not at school.
I swallow hard, trying to stay in control.
“OK, Ellie. I can see you don’t really want to talk about it. Don’t worry, I’m not going to press you. But can you just tell me if it’s trouble at home? Trouble with friends? Trouble with your love life?”
“It’s all of
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