The Friends Forever Collection

“Working on it,” said the Scumbag.

“Well, don’t leave it too late. What are you going to buy?”

The Scumbag said she wasn’t going to BUY anything.

“You mean you’re making something?” said Mum. “That’s nice!”

So then the Scumbag giggled again, for absolutely no reason whatever as far as I could see. That is what makes me suspicious. She is being all secretive and over-excited about something. I notice these things! With Mum and Dad, it’s like they’re wearing blindfolds.

Another thing that makes me suspicious. A few minutes ago I angrily hammered on her bedroom door demanding to know what she’d done with my heated rollers that she keeps snitching. She actually APOLOGISED. Which come to think of it is quite suspicious in itself. The Scumbag saying sorry!!!

“I forgot,” she said. “I put them in my cupboard.”

While she was getting them out of the cupboard (but what cheek to put them in there in the first place!) I happened to glance down at some drawing she was doing.

“What’s this?” I said. “Is this Megan’s birthday present?”

“It’s her birthday card.”

“Weird kind of card,” I said. She’d drawn this picture of a sticklike child on her knees, and a woman wearing a halo round her head, with a speech bubble coming out of her mouth saying, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! “What’s it meant to be?”

By way of reply, the Scumbag picked up a felt tip pen and wrote H.C. in big bold letters with an arrow pointing to the woman.

“Who is H.C.?”

She wouldn’t tell me. All she did was giggle again. Definitely something going on! But I have washed my hands. It’s the parents’ job to know what their children are up to.

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I could hardly wait to get round to Annie’s the next day! I was, like, jigging up and down with impatience all the time Mum was getting ready. Usually in the mornings she just grabs her bag and that’s that, we’re off! Today, wouldn’t you know it, she suddenly decides her shoes are killing her and she’s got to change into different ones. Then while she’s changing her shoes she notices this teeny little hole in her tights, and instead of sticking it up with nail varnish, which is what she’d normally do, she has to take the tights off and find herself a new pair.

I felt like screaming, “Mum! Who’s going to see them?” I mean, she works in an office, sitting at a desk. No one’s going to notice holes in her tights! Specially not ones you’d need a magnifying glass to find. But Mum likes to keep herself looking nice. She’s always very neat. Unlike Annie’s mum, who looks like a haystack! A very soft, comfortable sort of haystack; but still a haystack.

“What’s the matter?” said Mum, as I stood in her bedroom doorway, wrapping one leg round the other. “Do you want to go to the toilet?”

I said, “Muuum!”

“Well, what are you jigging about for?”

“It’s late,” I said. “You’ll be late for work!”

Mum’s never late for work; she’s a very punctual sort of person. “It’s nearly half-past nine,” I said.

“That’s all right,” said Mum. “I don’t have to be in till ten … stocktaking on Thursday, right? Late night. So I get a ten o’clock start the rest of the week! What’s your rush, anyway?”

“Got things to do,” I said.

“Oh! I suppose you want to talk to Annie about Saturday?” Mum laughed. “Come on, then! Let’s get you over there.”

I did feel a bit mean, not being more enthusiastic about Mum’s idea of letting me visit the bookroom. I knew it was a big thing for her. She is not scared of technology as she uses a computer for work; but she definitely gets twitchy when I want to do some of the things that anyone else’s mum would let them do without even winking an eyelash. Or is it batting an eyelid? (But how could you bat an eyelid? It would hurt!) I knew she’d spoken to Annie’s mum and Annie’s mum had said it would be OK, and I was quite looking forward to it; but mostly I wanted to hear what Annie had been saying to Lori. What had she been telling her about me???

When we arrived at Sylvan Close, which is the road where Annie lives, Annie’s mum and dad had already left for work and Annie was in the middle of a big shouting match with Rachel. You could hear them going at it as you went up the path.

“This sounds serious,” said Mum. “Is it safe to go off and leave them?”

“It’s OK,” I said, “they’re always having rows. They don’t do anything. They just yell.”

It was all about heated rollers, which Rachel said Annie had taken, and Annie swore she’d given back.

“I gave them back last night!”

“So where are they, then?”

“How should I know? You took them!”

“I beg your pardon, you were the one that took them!”

Rachel then shouted that she was sick of Annie just helping herself to things that didn’t belong to her and if there was any more of it she was going to put a padlock on her bedroom door. “Because you’re a thieving little toerag!”

Phew. I am sometimes quite glad that I am an only child.

“Can we go upstairs now?” I said.

“You can do whatever you like!” snapped Rachel. “I’ve washed my hands of you!”

With that she stalked off in a huff and Annie and me went up to Annie’s bedroom.

“Good riddance!” yelled Annie, as somewhere downstairs a door slammed shut. “I gave her back her stupid rollers! How should I know what she’s gone and done with them? W—”

“Oh, look, just shut up!” I begged. “I want to hear what you talked to Lori about!”

“Yes. Well!” Annie hurled herself down on to her bed. “I was telling her all about you, right? About you being a big fan, and everything. How you were doing this project for school. How you had all these books, and—”

“Yes, yes, you told her that before!” I said.

“So, OK, I told her again. I wanted her to know that you were this huge great admirer, and I said how it was your birthday on Saturday and how you really, really wanted this new book, this Feather thing—”

“Scarlet Feather!”

“Scarlet Feather, and—”

“You weren’t trying to get her to send me one?” I said, horrified.

“Why not? I thought you wanted one!”

“I do, but not like that! That’s like begging.”

“Well, it’s all right,” said Annie, “’cos she didn’t offer anyway. I thought she might have, ’cos I bet when books are published the authors get given loads of free copies, I mean like stacks and stacks, so it wouldn’t have hurt, but—”