Girl, Going on 16: Pants on Fire (17 page)

Her fingers itched to ring him on his mobile, but if it was the answering machine, she wouldn’t be able to say a word. And the call log function would eventually inform Fred that he had missed
another
call from her. And if he didn’t answer that one either, it could only mean that he did indeed hate her. Passionately.

There was only one thing to do: go to bed. Jess was absolutely shattered. She dragged herself into Granny’s room and kissed her goodnight.

‘Thanks for coming to the doctor’s with me, dear,’ Granny said.

Jess patted Granny’s head. ‘No problem, Granny,’ she said. ‘I’m glad it’s only an aging neck!’

Jess was just falling asleep when her mobile buzzed. She grabbed it. Was it a text from Fred? No, it was only Flora.

had a fab evening. hope all’s well with you, babe. lu, flo xxx

It seemed like a message from another planet.

Chapter 20

Jess went to sleep, but in the middle of the night she was woken up by Mum coming upstairs rather noisily. What??? It was 2 a.m.! Mum had never stayed out that late before. Until recently her idea of a wild night out was staying in the garden weeding the carrots until it was dark. Jess sighed, turned over and plunged back into a dull but unnerving dream about a house with no floor.

‘Jess!’

Suddenly she was awakened by a distant call. It was Granny’s voice. Sunshine was coming in under Jess’s curtains. It was 8.15 a.m.! Jess shot from the bed instantly and ran out on to the landing.

‘Are you awake, Jess?’ Granny was calling from the bottom of the stairs. ‘I think your mum must have overslept!’

‘OK, Granny, thanks!’ said Jess. ‘I’ll wake her up!’

Eight fifteen. This was a total disaster. No way could she get to school on time. She was going to be late – again. Then she suddenly realised Mum still hadn’t written the letter explaining why Jess had missed a morning’s school, the day she had pretended to be sick in order to do the homework she’d forgotten to do the night before. It seemed impossible to lead an ordinary life without getting entangled in endless melodramas. Jess ran into her mum’s bedroom.

‘Mum! Mum!’ she called. ‘Get up! It’s a quarter past eight! You didn’t wake me and now I’m going to be late again! Get up and write a letter to Miss Thorn saying I was ill on Tuesday!’

Only a groan came from the bed. The bedclothes moved feebly. Jess’s heart sank. She recognised the telltale signs of a major migraine.

‘Sorry, darling,’ croaked Mum. ‘I’ve got a terrible headache. Can you ring the library and tell them I won’t be in today?’

‘I’m not even dressed yet and I’m going to be sooo late!’ said Jess in desperation. ‘I’ll ask Granny to do it!’

In fact, Granny could write the letter
and
call the library. Mum was in no state even to hold a pen. Jess charged downstairs and ran into Granny’s room. Granny was sitting at her little table eating porridge.

‘Mum’s got a migraine,’ said Jess. ‘Please could you ring the library and tell them she won’t be coming in today?’

‘Of course, dear,’ said Granny. ‘I won’t ring them till about ten to nine, though, because they won’t be there yet.’

‘And another thing, Granny,’ said Jess. ‘Please could you write a note to my teacher Miss Thorn at school? You remember I was away on Tuesday morning because I was sick?’

‘Of course, dear,’ said Granny, but she just went on serenely eating her porridge.

‘I’m sorry, but please could you do it, like, NOW?’ asked Jess. ‘I’ll get some paper.’ She ran up to her mum’s study and grabbed a piece of their headed notepaper, and one of Mum’s special pens. A faint groan came from Mum’s bedroom.

‘Jess . .
.
Jess . . . Could you bring me a glass of water before you go, darling? In fact, a whole jug of water if possible . . . No, lemon squash.’

Jess ground her teeth with rage. How could Mum be so irresponsible as to stay out till two o’clock in the morning? No wonder she had a headache. Just who was the parent here, and who the teenager? Jess ran downstairs again. It must be twenty past eight by now and she was still in her pyjamas.

For a horrible moment she had a hallucination that she was running to school in her pyjamas because she didn’t have time to get dressed. It was like a ghastly dream. But on the other hand, it was also like what had happened in the real world, just yesterday.

She put the pen and paper in front of Granny.

‘Please, Granny,’ she said. ‘I just have to have a letter from a responsible grown-up, saying why I was away from school on Tuesday.’

Granny put down her spoon and pushed her porridge to one side for a moment.

‘Tuesday,’ she said, and unfortunately spat a little bit of porridge out on to the paper. ‘Oh, sorry, dear,’ she said, wiping it off with her hankie. ‘How disgusting.’

Where she had wiped it, there was a greasy porridgy smear.

‘Oh dear,’ said Granny, wiping it again. ‘What a mess.’

‘Leave it!’ said Jess, suppressing the urge to scream aloud. ‘I’ll get another piece!’ She ran upstairs and grabbed another piece of paper.

‘I’d also like some fruit, please, darling!’ called her mum feebly from her darkened room.

‘In a minute! We’re just trying to write my note for school!’ roared Jess. She was certainly never going to go into nursing. Even if their uniforms were redesigned in a tasteful pink ’n’ black.

‘Right, Granny,’ said Jess. ‘Write!’

Granny looked round feebly. ‘Oh dear,’ she sighed. ‘Where are my glasses?’

Jess spied them on Granny’s sofa table, snatched them and handed them over. Granny put them on, fiddling with her hair. It seemed to take about a day and a half. Then she picked up the pen.

‘I must try not to spit on it again!’ she said, grinning.

She seemed to think all this was a delightful lark.

‘Now,’ said Granny, ‘what’s the date?’

Jess had to run to the kitchen to look it up on the calendar.

‘Goodness!’ said Granny thoughtfully. ‘It’s my old Aunt Edith’s birthday. Still, she won’t be expecting a card. She snuffed it years ago! Ha ha!’

‘Please, Granny, can we hurry up?’ begged Jess. ‘I’m really late for school and I’m not even dressed yet. Now, can you write it by yoursel
f
? It’s to Miss Thorn. It’s to say I was absent on Tuesday morning because I was sick – oh, and you’d better mention that I was absent yesterday because I fell over and got mud on my skirt, and when I came home, you had chest pains and we took you to the doctor. It’s not quite true but it is true in parts. Make it up if you like but make it authentic, OK?’

Granny nodded and gave the thumbs up. She started to write. Jess sighed with relief and ran into the kitchen, where she collected a jug of lemon squash and put some fruit on a plate for Mum.

‘Oh, and Granny,’ she called, on her way back upstairs, ‘can you also say that I was late today because Mum woke up with a migraine and I had to do stuff for her before I left?’

‘Of course, dear,’ said Granny. ‘Leave it to me. I’m not an imbecile.’

Jess certainly hoped not. She placed Mum’s fruit and squash on her bedside table, though it was hard to see in the dark. Mum grabbed her hand. She felt hot and sweaty, but she was shivering.

‘I’m so sorry, darling,’ said Mum. ‘I love you! I’m so sorry I’m such a useless mother . . . Could you get me a wet flannel for my head, please? And have you rung the library yet?’

‘No!’ said Jess. ‘Granny’s going to do it at ten to nine! There won’t be anybody there yet!’

She raced out to the bathroom and put a face cloth under the cold tap for a moment. Then she wrung it out and took it in to her mum. The bedside clock said 8.30 a.m. Jess almost burst into tears. She was going to be later than anyone has ever been for anything. Irritable Powell would shout so loud the lid of the school would blow off.

‘This is too wet, darling,’ croaked Mum. ‘Can you wring it out a bit more?’

Jess grabbed the flannel in exasperation and wrung it out on the floor.

‘Jess!’ complained Mum. ‘Not on the carpet!’

‘It’s only a few drops of water!’ yelled Jess.

‘Don’t shout! Don’t shout!’ pleaded Mum.

‘OK, sorry, Mum, now I have to get dressed – I’m already going to be half an hour late!’

She raced out, pulled her clothes on and collected an envelope from the study before thundering downstairs.

‘I’ve finished it, love,’ said Granny, looking up proudly. ‘It’s not quite gospel truth, though – I’ve told a few little white lies as you suggested.’

‘That’s fine, Granny, that’s great!’ Jess grabbed the letter and folded it.

‘Now,’ said Granny, getting up, ‘what can I get you for breakfast? Bacon and eggs?’

‘No time for breakfast!’ said Jess. ‘I’m horrendously late! I’ve gotta go now, Granny, thanks! And don’t forget to ring the library!’

Jess grabbed her school bag from the kitchen and ran like the wind. Halfway to school she got a stitch and had to slow down to a walk. At this point she wondered if maybe she should read Granny’s letter just to make sure it was OK. She read it as she walked along, tripping on paving stones and bumping into lamp posts as she went.

Dear Miss Throne
,
it said. Miss Throne! What a catastrophic start.

I hope you are well. I expect i
t
’s quite an effort getting back to work after the long holidays.
I
’m sorry Jess was away from school yesterday (this is her grandmother writing by the way, as her mother is indisposed upstairs in a dark room). And also on Tuesday. Jess was sick through a dodgy chicken sandwich. Meat is such a lottery nowadays, is
n
’t it? And then yesterday she came home from school early because she was having giddy spells. I had to take her to the doctor, but she was all right really.

Then this morning as I write this Jess is very anxious about being late, but
I
’m afraid she overslept owing to her mother having a migraine. She was out to all hours last night but she deserves a bit of fun after all her troubles. Jess is a good girl really and I hope she appreci
ates all the efforts her teachers make.

Yours sincerely,

Vera Ramsbottom

Jess was tempted for a moment to run away and start a new life in South America. The only thing that prevented her was lack of money. What would Mr Powell and Miss Thorn make of this pile of horse manure? She would soon find out.

Chapter 21