‘He tickles,’ said Tanya.
I decided not to bother explaining that Gertrude was a she. I was getting giddy watching Tanya whizzing round and round my room. I sat shyly on the edge of my bed as if I were the guest.
Tanya still had hold of Olivia.
‘This one’s still my favourite,’ she said.
‘She’s mine too,’ I said, pleased. ‘Her name’s Olivia.’ I blushed, scared Tanya would think me stupid giving my monkeys names.
‘Hello, Olivia. Haven’t you got a posh name?’ said Tanya. She made Olivia’s head waggle. ‘Oooh yes, I should jolly well say so,’ she said, pretending to be Olivia. She had her voice all wrong, but it didn’t really matter.
‘She’s got the same colour hair as me!’ said Tanya, and she screwed up her face into a funny monkey expression to match. ‘Do you like it this colour, eh, Mandy?’
‘I think it’s lovely,’ I said.
‘Of course, it’s not really this colour. It’s sort of mouse naturally. Only that’s boring, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘I thought I might try it black some time. Go all Gothic and witchy. What do you think?’
I didn’t know what to say. I was amazed she was asking my opinion. I still couldn’t believe she was actually in my bedroom, chatting away to me.
‘Or I could go blonde, like you,’ said Tanya ‘You’ve got lovely hair.’
‘Me?’ I said, astonished.
‘My little sister’s got long hair too. Just like yours. You look like her. I thought just for a minute you were her when I saw you up at the window. Mad, eh?’
I smiled nervously.
‘I used to do our Carmel’s hair every day. I’m good at long hair. I’ll style yours for you, if you like.’
‘Would you?’
‘Sure,’ said Tanya.
She sat me down in front of my dressing table and undid my stupid plaits. She brushed out my hair really carefully, not pulling anywhere near as much as Mum does.
‘I’m ever so gentle, aren’t I?’ said Tanya. ‘That’s because Carmel yells her head off if you tug her tangles. And she wiggles around something awful. You’re much better behaved than Carmel.’
‘Is Carmel at Mrs Williams’ too?’ I asked.
Tanya stood still. Her face screwed up. I got scared. She went on brushing my hair after a moment, but she didn’t answer. I didn’t dare try asking her again.
She swept my hair up and wound it round her fingers and then with one deft twiddle turned it into a top knot. She secured it with the bands from my plaits.
‘Like it?’
‘Oh, wow!’ I said.
‘And we’ll soften it up here at the front,’ said Tanya, pulling a wisp over my forehead and doing little curly bits in front of my ears. ‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah!’ I said, trying to say it just the way she did.
I looked so different. Grown up. Almost Miranda Rainbow.
‘Got any spray?’ said Tanya.
I shook my head.
‘You need it, to keep it in place. And you can get all sorts of special slides and bands if you want to wear it up. Carmel used to have heaps.’
Tanya paused. ‘I did my little brothers’ hair too, cut it once a month and everything. I kept them looking really nice. I’ve got two little brothers, Sean and Matty. And my Carmel. I looked after them just like I was their mum. That’s why they’re trying me out at Pat’s place. Because I’m good with little kids. But I hoped she’d have girls. Huh! Pat’s got little Simon and that gormless Charlie and baby Ricky and they all yell and muck around and get messy and play with their willies. I’m sick of little boys. And big boys. Me and my boyfriend broke up three weeks ago, and do you know something, it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, because he is a pig.’
She didn’t just say he was a pig. She swore and I felt my cheeks go red and I hoped she wouldn’t notice. I was ever so glad I’d shut the bedroom door so Mum couldn’t hear.
‘Yeah, all boys give me the creeps,’ Tanya insisted. ‘So that’s why I thought I’d find a little girl to play with.’ She smiled at me kindly. I smiled back, but I couldn’t help fidgeting.
‘I’m not actually a little girl,’ I said. ‘I’m ten.’
Tanya blinked at me. ‘You’re never! I thought you were only about eight. Aren’t you tiny!’
I blushed even more.
‘Still, I’m tiny too. Without my heels,’ said Tanya. She saw me looking at them admiringly. ‘You can try them on if you want.’
‘Can I?’ I kicked off my slippers and edged my feet inside the black suede straps. They looked wonderful.
The bedroom door suddenly opened and I fell off one shoe in shock.
‘Mandy! Watch your ankles,’ said Mum, coming in with a tray. She frowned. ‘It’s not very nice to try on other people’s shoes,’ she said.
I took the other high heel off, sighing. ‘Whatever have you done with your hair?’ said Mum.
‘Tanya did it. I think it looks fantastic,’ I said.
‘Hm,’ said Mum putting the tray on my bedside table. She looked at Tanya. ‘I thought you might like a drink and a snack. Before you go home,’ she said. ‘Though you’ll still be full up with cake.’
‘Ooh, no, I’m always starving – even though I stay so skinny,’ said Tanya. ‘Is that Coke?’
‘No, it’s Ribena actually,’ said Mum. ‘And some gingerbread men. Home-made.’
‘Gingerbread folk,’ said Tanya. ‘We made them at this home I was in, and it was sexist to call them men, because women wear trousers too, don’t they?’ She picked up a gingerbread person, examining it carefully. ‘We’ll make this one definitely a woman, eh, Mandy?’ She nibbled along the stumpy legs with her sharp little teeth. ‘There, she’s wearing leggings now!’ Tanya laughed and I laughed too. I took a gingerbread person even though I was far too excited to be hungry. I nibbled as well.
‘There, I’ve got a woman too,’ I said, spraying crumbs.
‘Don’t talk with your mouth full, Mandy,’ said Mum. She walked over to my bed, tidying the duvet and pillow. She looked like she might be intending to sit on it herself.
‘You can go now, Mum,’ I blurted out quickly.
Mum looked surprised and hurt, but she didn’t say anything.
She went. My heart started thudding in case I’d hurt her feelings but I couldn’t bother about it too much. Not now. With Tanya.
She slurped her Ribena. ‘New lipstick, eh, Mandy?’ she said, smacking stained lips. ‘It’ll match my nails a treat.’
She ate her gingerbread woman, and pretended to feed Olivia and Gertrude too, kidding around as if she still thought me a baby. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered in the whole world because I was friends with Tanya.
She pretended to feed the man’s face on her T-shirt too.
‘Here, Kurt, you can have a mouthful,’ she said.
‘Who?’
‘You don’t know who Kurt is?’ Tanya rolled her eyes and sighed. She reverently stroked his tousled fringe. ‘Only the greatest rock star ever, and I just love him.’
‘I thought you said all boys gave you the creeps?’ I said boldly.
She gave me a little nudge.
‘You’re not so shy now, are you? And anyway, Miss Clever-Clogs, he’s not a boy.’
‘Well, a man, then.’
‘He’s not a man either. He’s an angel, because he’s dead. Or a devil.’
‘He’s dead?’ I said, surprised, because he looked so young.
‘He committed suicide,’ said Tanya. She got up off Gertrude and wandered round my room, opening the drawers in my play cupboard.
I didn’t mind her fiddling with my things at all. She got out my big tin of rainbow felt-tips.
‘Wow! Do they all work still?’
‘Yes.’
‘Let’s draw, eh? I love colouring.’
I found us both some drawing paper. I took my arm out of my sling and waggled my fingers. Yes, I thought
I could draw OK. My wrist hurt but I didn’t care. I usually drew at my desk, but Tanya spread herself full-length on the carpet, leaning her paper on one of my books. I did the same.
‘My mum committed suicide,’ said Tanya. She said it so casually I wasn’t quite sure I’d heard her properly. I stared at her. Tanya saw I was shocked.
‘She topped herself,’ she said, thinking I didn’t know what suicide meant.
‘How . . . awful,’ I mumbled.
‘Well, she was always a bit zonked out of her brains anyway,’ said Tanya. ‘It’s OK, it was ages and ages ago. I was quite little. Though I can still remember her. I’ll draw her, shall I?’
She drew a lovely lady in a long purple dress and she gave her purple wings too, with rows of jade and aqua feathers like frills.
I didn’t know what to draw. I didn’t want to draw my mum.
‘Draw me,’ said Tanya.
So I drew her as carefully as I could, trying very hard to make her pretty. I did her short orange hair and her smiley mouth and her little purple nails. I did every strap on her shoes. I even did a portrait of her Kurt on her T-shirt.
‘That’s good,’ said Tanya. ‘OK, I’ll draw you now.’
She drew a funny, podgy, little girl with lots of long yellow hair. I wasn’t sure whether I was pleased or not. She saw me hesitating, so she drew me special strappy high-heeled clunky sandals on my feet. She did a long line of green grass under me. The heels on my shoes didn’t quite touch it, so I looked as if I was doing a little dance. She drew a blue line of sky at the top of the page, and then right above my head she did a big yellow sun with rays all round it.
Then she wrote a title at the top. Her writing was rather wobbly and I knew she’d spelled a word wrong but it didn’t matter a bit.
MY FREND MANDY. That’s what she wrote. And I felt so happy I felt as if there was a real sun above my head and I was dancing in its warm yellow rays.
I had to go to school on Monday. Mum took me. She wore her best navy suit though it’s really too small for her now. It’s got tiny lines called pinstripes. Mum had pinstripes across her forehead too. She only frowns like that when she’s very cross.
‘Oh, Mum, please, promise you won’t say anything,’ I begged.
I nearly died when we turned the corner and caught up Melanie and her mother. Melanie went bright red when she saw me. She looked as if she was going to cry.
Melanie’s mum started talking to my mum about the weather and the holidays and grownup stuff like that. Melanie and I shuffled along trying not to look at each other. Then I heard Melanie give a little sniff.
‘I thought you might be dead,’ she whispered.
I blinked at her.
‘When you didn’t come to school the next day. And Arthur said you were taken off in the ambulance. But you’re all right now?’
‘It’s just my wrist.’ I held my arm out though there was nothing to show. I didn’t need the sling any more.
‘Oh, Mandy.’ Melanie blew upwards with relief, ruffling her fluffy fringe. ‘Even Kim was in a right state, I can tell you.’
I giggled nervously.
‘Mandy . . .’ Melanie struggled. ‘Well, I’m glad you’re all right.’
I nodded, knowing there were lots of things she wanted to say but couldn’t. I felt as if a huge breath was ruffling me all over, making me light and bouncy. I was all right. Melanie was glad I was all right. It looked as if everything was going to be all right again now.
But as we got nearer school Melanie stepped aside from me and went quiet. I realized it was in case Kim saw us. And then at the school gate Mum suddenly stopped speaking to Melanie’s mum and looked hard at Melanie.
‘It’s a shame you’re not Mandy’s friend any more,’ said Mum.
Melanie went red again. Melanie’s mum looked embarrassed too.
‘Yes, I don’t know why they’ve had their little tiff. Still, girls will be girls,’ she said uneasily.
‘It’s more than a little tiff,’ said Mum. ‘I don’t really blame your Melanie. It’s that other girl. Kim.’
‘Yes, I don’t know why Melanie’s got so pally with her. I don’t see why they can’t all be friends anyway. But I expect they’ll sort it out between themselves,’ said Melanie’s mum.
‘I’m going to make sure things are sorted out,’ said Mum, and she marched through the school gate and into the playground.
I dashed after her.
‘Mum! Mum, where are you going? What are you doing?’
‘I’m going to have a little word with Mrs Edwards,’ said Mum.
I felt faint. The headmistress.
‘Mum, you can’t tell Mrs Edwards,’ I said, my voice squeaking with shock. ‘They’ll all hate me and think I’m a sneaky tell-tale.’
‘Don’t be silly, darling,’ said Mum. ‘And you needn’t get at all involved. You can go off to your classroom and forget all about it. I just need to let Mrs Edwards know what’s happening in her school.’
‘But you don’t understand, you can’t . . .’ I wailed.
She could. I had no way of stopping her.
I trailed into Mrs Stanley’s classroom. Kim was there, standing at the front. She seemed to grow. I seemed to shrink. Melanie was yacking away to her, pointing at me. Sarah was there too, chewing her lip as she listened. I heard the word Mandy. I heard the word Mum.
‘Right,’ said Kim, and she put her hands on her hips and turned to me.
But Mrs Stanley came bustling in with a basket of roses and started cheerily chatting about her weekend in the country. She sent me off to fill some vases with water for the flowers. I wished there was some way I could stay in the cloakroom all day long, filling vase after vase for a whole field of flowers. But I had to go back and arrange the roses and answer the register and then get out my things for Maths when all the time I was peering out the window to see if Mum had finished seeing Mrs Edwards.
It was halfway through the lesson when I spotted Mum going across the playground, looking hot and uncomfortable in her tight suit. Her skirt rode up and showed her fat knees. The tightness of her skirt made her walk with a waggle. I saw Kim wiggling her shoulders imitating Mum. Someone giggled.
I bent over my Maths book and pretended to be working, though all the numbers squirmed across the page and my hands were so wet that I smudged the sums I’d already done.
I hoped that it was all over now. But it wasn’t all over. It was just beginning.
One of Mrs Edwards’ monitors suddenly came into our classroom.
‘Excuse me, Mrs Stanley, but Mrs Edwards wants to see Kim Matthews, Melanie Holder and Sarah Newman in her office straight away.’ The monitor announced this importantly, so that everyone heard.
All heads swivelled towards Kim and Melanie and Sarah. Sarah started chewing her lip so violently that her mouth went sideways.
Melanie looked like ice cream, white and wet. But Kim looked perfectly composed, though her cheeks were a little pinker than usual. And her eyes brighter. As she looked at me.
I knew what her look meant.
She was really really really going to get me now.
I bent right over my Maths book, clenching everything. I stayed like that long after they’d left the classroom.
I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder and jumped.
‘What’s the matter, Mandy?’ said Mrs Stanley.
I shook my head, trying to pretend.
‘Why are you sitting like that, dear? Have you got a tummyache?’
I nodded.
Mrs Stanley bent closer. ‘Do you need to go to the toilet?’
I nodded again.
‘Well, why didn’t you say so, you silly girl?’ said Mrs Stanley. ‘Really. You’re not a baby, Mandy. Off you go, then.’
I shot off and sat in the dank toilets, crying, wishing I was a baby. A little helpless baby who didn’t ever have to go to school. One of Mrs Williams’ babies in a pram. And then Tanya could still come and play with me.
I sat in
the toilets for ages. I read all the rude rhymes, much much ruder than anything Arthur had ever had written on his plaster cast. Then someone came into the toilets calling my name.
‘Mandy White, are you in here?’
I hunched up small behind the door, hoping they’d go away.
There was a hammering on the door.
‘Are you in there, Mandy? Because Mrs Stanley says if you’re really not well you’d better go to the office, and you’ve got to go to the office anyway because Mrs Edwards wants you.’
It was no use. I couldn’t stay silent behind the door forever. She’d jump up and look over the top in a minute.
‘Just coming,’ I mumbled, and flushed the toilet.
I came out and washed my hands. The monitor looked at me curiously.
‘What were you doing in there?’
I shook my head, not answering.
‘Were you sick?’
‘No.’ Though I was starting to feel sick. I looked at myself in the spotted mirror. I was a weird pale greeny colour. A lighter shade of the bottle green cardigan that Mum had knitted for me, even though everyone else had proper shop-bought jumpers.
‘Come on, then.’
I followed her out of the toilets and along the corridors. I smelt the school dinners cooking in the canteen and felt sicker than ever. Kim and Sarah and Melanie were waiting outside Mrs Edwards’ office. I wondered if I was going to throw up all over my carefully-fitted Clarks sandals.
Sarah and Melanie looked as if they felt sick too. Melanie was actually crying. But not Kim.
I didn’t dare look at her properly as I scuttled past. I knocked on Mrs Edwards’ door and stumbled in. I’d never ever been in her office before. You only got summoned if you’d been very naughty or cheeky or disruptive.
‘Ah! Where have you been, Mandy? We’ve practically had to send out a search party,’ said Mrs Edwards.
I hadn’t often talked to her in all my years at the school. I’d shaken her hand at Prize Day, and once when I’d done the reading at Assembly she’d smiled at me and said ‘Well Done’.