‘Shut up, Miranda,’ says Mr Windsor.
‘Oh darling, no need to be bashful! Anyway, he came rushing home full of the joys of spring saying it had all gone splendidly after all. In fact he still raves about you Year Nine girls. You’re a very talented bunch by all accounts.’
‘Miranda, I’m pressing my ejector seat button right this minute,’ says Mr Windsor, but he’s laughing.
‘There’s one really talented girl – she specializes in all these crazy cartoons but she’s great at serious portraits too. Now, I wonder what her name is?’ says Miranda.
‘Who??’
They both laugh. At me.
‘You must realize you’re Guy’s star pupil, Ellie. He’s always going on about you.’
‘Oh wow! I mean – cool,’ I say, totally flustered but thrilled to bits. Star pupil! I’m twinkling all over the back seat. It’s surprising the entire car isn’t illuminated by my stardust.
I’m still sparkling when I let myself in at home. In spite of all the adventures of the evening I am actually back a minute before midnight, my Cinderella curfew.
I kick off my remaining shoe in the hall and try to compose myself before going into the living room. Dad’s sleepily watching television and Anna is still twitching over a complicated teddy jumper with a little knitted teddy attached on a woolly string.
‘Did you have a good time at your Claudie concert, Ellie?’ she asks, experimenting with the dangling teddy.
I hesitate. It’s simpler just to say yes. So I do.
‘And Magda’s dad picked you up OK after the concert?’ says my dad.
‘Sure,’ I say. ‘Anna, that teddy looks as if he’s hung himself. He’s too droopy.’
‘I know, I know, but I can’t work out how else I can attach it. If I try to put in a pocket it’ll throw the whole design out of sync and I’ve got to get it finished by tomorrow.’
‘It’s mad you taking on all this work,’ says Dad, yawning. ‘Well, I’m off to bed. Come on, Anna, sort it out tomorrow, you’re exhausted.’
‘No, I’ve got to fix it. Somehow,’ says Anna.
‘Hey, what about a bit of velcro? Then you could stick the teddy to the jumper.’
‘Yes! Oh, Ellie, you’re a genius,’ says Anna, giving me a kiss.
‘I’m not sure I’d go that far,’ says Dad, giving us both a big bear-hug. ‘But you’re a good girl, Ellie. I’m pleased you’re being really straight with us now. No more silly lies, right?’
‘Right,’ I say, practically swallowing my black tongue.
But it’s all right. They’ll never know.
Famous last words!!! There’s an item in Saturday’s newspaper all about Claudie Coleman and her cancelled concert.
Oh help!
‘Ellie!’ Dad thunders.
I am in for a stormy time. I try to explain. Over and over again.
It gets me nowhere.
Magda rings. Her mum spotted the newspaper article too.
Nadine rings. Ditto her mum.
We were supposed to be meeting up to go shopping in the afternoon. We are not allowed. We are not allowed out anywhere apart from school for a very long time.
Russell rings.
‘Hi Ellie! How are you? Enjoy the concert? My dance was totally dire. I’m rather glad you weren’t there, it was just so incredibly stupid and stuffy. In fact I left early because it was so boring standing there with a whole lot of other sad guys without girls. Not that I’d have wanted any of the girls who were there. There was no-one remotely like you, Ellie. So anyway, I got home early, like I said, and my dad was pleased and said he’s glad I’m behaving like a responsible human being at last – so I’m not grounded any more. We can go out on our first proper date. Tonight! Remember I said I knew where I wanted to go? How about the 7.30 showing of Girls Out Even Later? It’s still on at the Rio.’
‘There’s just one problem, Russell.’
‘Don’t worry about it being scary. I’ll hold your hand tight, I promise. Everyone says Girls Out Even Later is a really great film. Well, not great art, just great fun.’
‘Russell—’
‘But don’t worry. We don’t have to see it if you really think it might upset you. We’ll go anywhere you want.’
‘I can’t go to Girls Out Even Later. I can’t go out late myself. Or early. Oh Russell, I’m in big trouble. I’m not allowed out for ages now.’
I explain. Russell listens. Groans. Tells me off for taking crazy risks. Moans that we can’t go out after all.
‘So it’s back to secret after-school trysts in McDonald’s?’ he says.
‘It looks like it.’
‘Ah well. I suppose it can’t be helped. We’ll have our big night out one day, right?’
‘You bet.’
‘Good. Because you mean a lot to me, Ellie.’ There’s a little pause. I hear him swallow. ‘Ellie . . . I love you.’
I swallow too. I glance around quickly to make sure Eggs isn’t lurking.
‘I love you too,’ I whisper, and then I put the phone down.
I pick it up again. Who shall I phone first, Magda or Nadine? I can’t wait to tell them what Russell’s just said!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JACQUELINE WILSON is one of Britain’s most outstanding writers for young readers. She is the most borrowed author from British libraries and has sold over 25 million books in this country. As a child, she always wanted to be a writer and wrote her first ‘novel’ when she was nine, filling countless exercise books as she grew up. She started work at a publishing company and then went on to work as a journalist on Jackie magazine (which was named after her) before turning to writing fiction full-time.
Jacqueline has been honoured with many of the UK’s top awards for children’s books, including the Guardian Children’s Fiction Award, the Smarties Prize, the Red House Book Award and the Children’s Book of the Year. She was awarded an OBE in 2002 and was the Children’s Laureate for 2005–2007.
ABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR
NICK SHARRATT knew from an early age that he wanted to use his drawing skills as his career, so he went to Manchester Polytechnic to do an Art Foundation course. He followed this up with a BA (Hons) in Graphic Design at St. Martin’s School of Art in London from 1981–1984.
Since graduating, Nick has been working full-time as an illustrator for children’s books, publishers and a wide range of magazines. His brilliant illustrations have brought to life many books, most notably the titles by Jacqueline Wilson.
Nick also writes books as well as illustrating them.
Jacqueline Wilson, Girls Out Late
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