Desperate Measures Read online

  I haven’t thrown a real full-blown wobbly since I was about eight but this definitely made up for it. Mrs Frankish came out in a flurry.

  ‘This is all your fault!’ I screamed, throwing the pants at her. ‘If you hadn’t taken us away from Dad in the first place, we wouldn’t be in this mess, packing up to go God knows where!’

  She tried to say something but I wouldn’t let her, so she just stood there holding the pants and going more and more red as I heard myself screeching at her more and more loudly. The nosy woman from over the road came out to have a look but I still didn’t stop yelling. I couldn’t stop if I wanted to. And what’s more, I didn’t want to. Everything I cared about was going to be taken away from me. I’d got nothing to lose. I was going to yell like crazy – scream like a loony. I was going to get my money’s worth. Matt started to fidget then he mumbled some excuse and said he had better get going.

  ‘Matt,’ I said, ‘don’t go!’ But he just gave me a wary sort of smile then walked off down the road and out of my life. Watching him hurry away slowed me down. Suddenly I was drained. I’d got nothing left to say. He turned the corner and I burst into tears just as Paul came out. I heard him quietly say to Mrs Frankish that he’d manage now and she’d better get off too. She didn’t look too happy but Paul insisted. She told him she’d be round the next morning to collect us. She patted his arm and then, still holding the pair of pants, got in her car and drove off. I looked down and saw I was shaking. It was really weird – I was shaking like a jelly and I couldn’t stop. Paul turned to me.

  ‘Come on, love,’ he said gently. ‘Let’s get you inside. It’s cold out here.’

  Chapter 7

  I ran into Jamie’s room to hide from Vicky. I could hear her outside screaming. I didn’t mean to make her that angry. I hid under Jamie’s bed and put my fingers in my ears. I wanted the noise to stop but it didn’t so I started screaming too. Jamie came in. He bent down and put his face under the bed.

  ‘Stop it Re!’ he called. ‘Stop that racket right now . . . or I’ll give you a double chinese burn.’

  He does really nasty chinese burns so I stopped.

  ‘That’s better,’ he said as he got out his school rucksack. ‘Right, well come on then, get out from under there.’

  I crawled out from under the bed covered in dust.

  He opened his school bag and looked at me. ‘Now watch carefully because you’ll have to pack your rucksack too in a minute.’

  ‘What about the suitcase Paul gave you?’ I asked.

  ‘People don’t carry suitcases around when they’re running away. They need to travel light,’ he said. ‘With just the things they really need.’

  ‘Are we really going to run away?’ I asked.

  ‘It’ll be fun.’

  I thought for a second. ‘What about Vicky?’

  ‘Vicky’s a big fat pain in the bum. All she cares about is her stupid boyfriend.’

  ‘Manky Matt.’

  ‘Yeah. Manky old Matt. We don’t need her bossing us around all the time.’

  ‘No we don’t.’

  Jamie put in his warm jumper, some jeans, two pairs of thick socks, his torch, his spiderman sleeping bag and his camping book.

  ‘Right,’ he said, ‘now go and pack yours just with stuff you really need.’

  ‘OK,’ I said and ran quickly off to our bedroom.

  I got out my school rucksack and piled in my Furby, my baldy Barbies, my disco lamp and Baby Emma with the poked out eyes. Last of all I put in the big photo of me, Vicky, Jamie and Mum and Dad. Great Auntie Irene had taken it outside her house. She was really really old and had cracks on her face like dried up playdough. The photo was a bit blurry. It looked like it was raining but it wasn’t, it was lovely and sunny. Vicky’s got her eyes shut because she blinked and you can hardly see Jamie because he crouched down behind Jip to keep him still.

  Jamie came in. ‘You’ll have to sleep in your jumper and jeans tonight,’ he said as he helped me roll up my sleeping bag and fix it on top. ‘And we have to do a secret commando raid to get some food and our drinks bottles.’

  He told me to go down and talk to Paul in the sitting room while he sneaked into the kitchen.

  ‘What shall I talk about?’ I asked.

  ‘Doesn’t matter. Anything will do.’

  In the sitting room Paul was talking to Vicky. She wasn’t yelling any more, just making funny sort of gulps every now and then. Paul gave her a tissue and she blew her nose.

  ‘How long will we have to be away?’ Vicky asked Paul.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said.

  ‘It’ll only be a short while though, won’t it?’

  Paul still didn’t say anything.

  ‘We’ll be back before Christmas, definitely. We will be back then.’

  Paul didn’t answer.

  Vicky looked at him. ‘Promise me we will.’

  ‘I’m sorry Vicky . . . things change – I can’t say because I just don’t know.’

  Vicky made a funny snorty noise then rushed upstairs saying she was going to pack her stuff.

  I love Christmas. Vicky and Jamie don’t believe in Father Christmas but I do. And I know how he gets down chimneys too. You know he’s really fat? Ha! Well, he isn’t actually. All that fatness is just air. When he wants to come down a chimney he just pulls at a string on his belly button and all the air whooshes out from his tummy and he goes really skinny. That’s how he can slip down the chimney. Then, when he gets to the bottom and he’s left all the presents, he pulls another string and blows himself up again like a balloon.

  When we were little, Dad used to bring us presents when he came back from driving. Mum would get cross sometimes and tell him she needed the money to pay the bills but he would just laugh and say they could whistle for it. After Mum was gone, two men came round to take our beds and the sofa and armchairs back to the shop but they didn’t whistle. One was really grumpy and the other just kept saying he didn’t want any trouble. When they’d gone Dad said not to worry because every cloud had a silver lining. I looked outside to see but they were all grey. Anyway he’d found some money under the sofa so he took us out to get chips for tea. We had cola and he had some beer. We came back and sat on the carpet with the chips on the paper in the middle like a big picnic. It was fun. Mum never let us do stuff like that. And he never got cross when I spilt my cola. He just said it didn’t matter any more because they’d be back for the carpet next week.

  I heard Jamie in the kitchen banging about. Paul heard him too.

  ‘Paul,’ I said quickly, ‘do you want to hear a joke?’

  He looked round me at the kitchen door.

  ‘It’s the funniest joke ever, in the whole wide world,’ I said.

  ‘Go on then,’ he said. I looked at him. His eyes were really red and tired. Suddenly I wanted to cheer him up. I really really did want to tell him the funniest joke ever in the whole wide world but I didn’t know how. You see I don’t actually know any jokes at all. Jamie tells me them all the time but I get all mixed up and can never remember them.

  It was a good job that the next second Jamie came out of the kitchen. He gave me a thumbs-up sign and ran upstairs with a bag.

  ‘Gotta go,’ I said running out and following Jamie upstairs.

  ‘Thought you were going to tell me the funniest joke in the whole wide world?’ said Paul, calling after me.

  ‘Nah,’ I said. ‘It’s really boring.’

  Chapter 8

  I went to bed early that night. I’d packed my stuff and didn’t feel like going back downstairs. Mainly I was kind of embarrassed about my whopping great tantrum earlier. I couldn’t believe how I just lost the plot so completely. In front of Matt too. Errrch! I couldn’t bear to think of it, but Matt’s bewildered and wary expression kept flashing up in my mind’s eye. He probably thought I was a right head-case. A complete nutter. Maybe it’s a good thing we’re leaving tomorrow, I thought. At least I wouldn’t have to face him at school for a
while.

  Paul had been on tenterhooks all evening in case the hospital rang but no one did, thank goodness. He phoned at nine and the ward sister said Sarah was comfortable, whatever that meant. Poor Sarah. She and Paul so wanted this baby. We all did. Rhianna and Jamie had already gone to bed. I guess they were as fed up as me. At least Re got her Furby and her cake. I looked over at her, snuggled up under the covers and fast asleep, an old teddy bear tucked in next to her. There was the faintest trace of a smile on her large moon face; she looked like she hadn’t a care in the world. The great thing about Re was she never stayed miserable for long. She lived in the present and never beat herself up over things she should have done or didn’t do – they were in the past and they just didn’t matter any more. And she never really worried about what was going to happen. She lived for the moment. That was all. Boy was she lucky. When Mum died, I tried to soften it all for her. There I was launching into this big ‘Mum’s gone but everything’s going to be all right’ routine and when I finished she just looked at me with those big grey eyes and asked if we could have pot noodle for tea.

  I’d been furious with her earlier but being angry with Re is like being angry with a puppy that’s chewed one of your best trainers. Just one look at its trusting, dopey expression and you can’t help but forgive it. Maybe this residential school wouldn’t be so bad. And maybe, if I was with a decent family, they’d take me to visit or even let Re stay at the weekend. Maybe Sarah would get better really quickly and we’d all be back together for when the baby arrived . . . maybe everything would work out perfectly . . . maybe little pink pigs would learn to fly and take over the world . . . Maybe. I was sick of maybes. Paul had said he didn’t know when we would be coming back. ‘Things change.’ What exactly did he mean?

  A really horrible thought rushed into my head and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t push it out. What if ‘I don’t know’ became ‘Never’? Jamie was right. We’d be split up for good and powerless to do anything about it. I told myself to shut up. Sarah and Paul wouldn’t let us down. They wouldn’t. They cared about us. Wanted the best for us. But then, we had been let down so many times over the last two years. Promises, like balloons, had popped in front of our eyes. Mrs Frankish was always saying that things are never as bad as you imagine. But it’s all right for her, she has the imagination of a fruit fly.

  Chapter 9

  When I woke up, Jamie was standing over me with his finger on his lips.

  ‘It’s time to go Re,’ he whispered.

  I looked over at Vicky. She was curled up asleep in her bed. I didn’t feel like going anywhere but Jamie picked up my school rucksack and we tiptoed out so she wouldn’t wake up. We crept down the stairs in the dark. The house was fast asleep. I couldn’t see where I was going so I grabbed Jamie’s arm. I tripped over Vicky’s shoes in the hall and banged my knee on the little telephone table. It hurt so bad I wanted to cry but Jamie put his hand over my mouth to stop me. We put on our trainers and coats. Then really quietly he undid the front door.

  Out in the street it was quiet and still. The black cat from next door came up to us and rubbed his back round my legs. I gave him a quick stroke and he stared at us as we disappeared off down the street. I bet he wondered where we were going. A car came up the road so we hid behind the letterbox but the man driving never saw us. Nobody did.

  When we got near the woods everything was even darker so Jamie said he would switch on his torch to light the way. I don’t think it was working properly because it only made a little tiny circle of yellow on the pavement.

  ‘It’ll warm up,’ Jamie said, but it didn’t.

  I don’t like the dark. When we first went to Paul and Sarah’s they said we could each have our own room but I didn’t like the shadows that came at night-time so I used to creep into Vicky’s bed and snuggle up next to her. She’d give me a hug and stroke my hair. If I shut my eyes tight sometimes I could pretend it was Mum back home. In the end Sarah said that we’d better move my bed in and share the room so Vicky could get some sleep. Now my old room is painted ready for the baby and there are lovely new curtains with rabbits and ducks on them but I don’t care, I’d rather be with Vicky.

  The path down into the woods looked like a big black mouth.

  ‘I don’t like it,’ I told Jamie, ‘I’m not going down there.’

  ‘It’ll be OK. Anyway we’ll be at the camp soon.’

  I wouldn’t budge so he got cross.

  ‘We can’t go back now Re!’ he said, taking my arm and trying to pull me in.

  I was stronger than him. He couldn’t make me so in the end he started walking down the path into the woods on his own. I watched him go and then looked around. I didn’t know which way to go. I wanted Vicky. She always knew what to do. Suddenly I heard a really scary noise. The shadow things were coming to get me now I was on my own. They’d waited for Jamie to go off and now they saw their chance. I screamed then ran after Jamie as fast as I could.

  When I caught up with him, he told me to stop bawling my head off or he’d whack me and then I would have something to cry about.

  ‘But I’m scared of the monsters!’

  He laughed. ‘I’m not! If any monsters try anything I’ll just give them a karate kick in their rudey bits then finish them off by thumping them one.’

  Jamie’s really brave. I’d just run away if there was a monster standing in front of me ready to pull my arms and legs off or suck out my blood.

  It started to spit with rain but Jamie said it didn’t matter because when we got to his camp we’d crawl inside his den and be warm and dry like two snug bugs in a rug. He got out two penguin bars that he’d pinched from the biscuit tin. He let me have the one with the red wrapper. The red ones taste the best. He said we’d have a competition to see who could make theirs last the longest. I won by loads.

  I’d just finished the last little crumb when we got to the camp. It looked different in the dark. Some of the branches of the den had caved in and some had blown away. He said he’d mend it and he started pulling them all off and piling them up on the roof again. It took him ages and he kept swearing when they fell off. When he’d done it we got out our sleeping bags, unrolled them on the floor of the den and crawled inside.

  ‘I can smell dog wee,’ I said.

  ‘Shut up Re.’

  It was like lying on prickly hedgehogs and my hands still felt cold. Jamie said he’d blow on them to warm them up. He made a funny ‘hhrrrrr’ noise like a dragon blowing out smoke. Ollie Stanmore nicks fags from his dad and he can blow smoke rings. He showed Jamie how to do it once but Jamie just took a couple of puffs and started coughing. Smoking is bad for you. Mrs Edwards told us that in our Healthy Bodies lesson. We watched a video of some lungs filling up with black stuff just like Marmite and a voice said ‘smoking kills’ really loudly. I kept telling Dad that after Mum had gone but he said he needed them to go with his beer. I said, don’t have your beer then but he said he needed it to go with his fags. I said his lungs would fill up with Marmite and then he’d get really ill but he told me not to worry.

  The good thing was that he did stop soon after that. He went off beer and just had a bottle of whisky every night instead. Sometimes Maxine lets me have some of her break-time drink from her bottle so I let her have some of mine. It’s nice to have a change. Dad drank the whole bottle really quickly and didn’t even bother about having a smoke. So that was OK. Jamie tried some once. Dad had fallen asleep when we were all watching Pet Rescue on the telly and Jamie tried the last drops at the bottom of the bottle. He said it tasted like cough medicine but worse. I love cough medicine. Especially cherry flavour. Jamie was a right meanie, he didn’t leave any for me to try.

  I was just falling asleep when Jamie jabbed me with his elbow. ‘Stop taking up all the room!’ he hissed.

  ‘I’m not taking up all the room!’

  ‘You are, you fat lump!’

  ‘I am not fat! Don’t call me fat because I’m not fat!’
r />   ‘Move over!’

  He started pushing me. I pushed him back so he gave me a whopping great shove right in my side.

  ‘Stop it you conkhog!’ I yelled. He shoved me again. Harder. I rolled into the wall. Some of the branches fell down on my head. Jamie started going balloony.

  ‘You’re trashing my den!’

  ‘It’s a rubbish den!’ I yelled back at him. ‘You said we’d be as snug as bugs in a rug!’

  Then we heard the noise outside.

  ‘It’s the monsters Jamie!’

  ‘Shush!’

  ‘With stabby beaks.’

  ‘Shut up Re!’

  ‘They can stab their way through branches.’

  ‘Rhianna! Put a cork in it!’

  ‘You’ve got to do something!’

  But Jamie didn’t get up. He just wriggled down in his sleeping bag till I could only see the top of his hair. Then he said in a funny wobbly voice that he wasn’t going anywhere.

  ‘But you said you’d do karate kicks if any monsters came. You promised!’

  ‘Will you shut up!’ He sounded really cross. I told him it wasn’t my fault the monsters were outside waiting to bite off our heads. Jamie hissed if I didn’t shut up straight away he’d bite off my head himself and save the monster the job of it. I started asking him how because he hasn’t got pointy teeth but then we saw something coming towards us.

  Jamie picked up one of the branches. He crawled out and started to wave it around his head. He didn’t look very scary and his arm was shaking.

  ‘Quick!’ I screamed. ‘Kick it in its rudey bits!’