Girl, Going on 16: Pants on Fire (26 page)

On Monday, Jess and Fred resumed their habit of walking to school together. At Flora’s house they paused.

‘I’ll just find out if she’s coming to school today,’ said Jess. ‘She had period pains yesterday.’

At the dreaded words ‘period pains’, Fred went pale and backed off down the pavement.

‘I’d hate to interrupt your girly gossip,’ he said. ‘I think I’ll make an excuse and leave. See you at lunchtime.’

‘Yeah,’ said Jess. ‘Although I don’t intend to speak to you until you’ve done the decent thing and broken Thorny’s heart in two by your shock resignation.’

Fred kind of shuddered and pulled an agonised face.

‘You can do it,’ said Jess. ‘You’re my hero.’

‘Couldn’t I be your terrified pet mouse instead?’ said Fred.

‘No,’ said Jess. ‘The time has come for you to prove your manhood.’

‘Uhhh – guess what, I think I left it at home,’ said Fred. Then he pulled up his hood and walked off. He looked scared –
really
scared.

Jess went in to collect Flora and impart the fantastic news that Fred was back in her life. Flora was pleased, and gave Jess a hug, but she was preoccupied with her own problems and looking more beautiful than ever in a kind of picturesquely disgraced way. Last night she had plucked up her courage and told her dad she’d been thrown out of the play.

‘Dad surprised me,’ she confided, as they turned into the main road. ‘He just said that was OK, because I’d have more time for maths homework.’

Flora’s dad could be a bit of a philistine sometimes. He regarded the arts as something people got involved with if they didn’t have anything important to do.

When they got to school, Jess reported to Mrs Tomkins’s office. Mrs Tomkins was busy on the phone so she just waved Jess to a desk in the corner of her room. Her office had lots of pictures of the Tomkins family windsurfing, and there were flowers on the desk. It was also a lot cosier and untidier than Mr Powell’s office.

‘Right, Jess,’ said Mrs Tomkins briskly, when she finished her call, ‘I gather you’re On Report for a week, so get on with it. I hope by the time we get to Friday you’ll be a reformed character.’

Mrs Tomkins tried to look stern, but succeeded only in looking not quite as jolly as usual. She found it hard to be cross with Jess, because her mother was a librarian. Jess assured her that she was deeply penitent, and resumed her scholarly endeavours. From now on, she would be so saintly the Pope might need to be informed.

After school Flora was waiting in the Dolphin, and Mackenzie and Ben were with her, eager to talk about the comedy show. But there was, as yet, no sign of Fred. He hadn’t managed to see Miss Thorn at lunchtime, because she was busy rehearsing (luckily, not one of his scenes), so he’d had to have his showdown with her after school. Right now, he was probably telling her he was withdrawing from the play. If he chickened out, Jess was determined to have another massive row with him, this time lasting months.

‘So how was your day, babe?’ she asked Flora. Jess still felt desperately guilty that her crisis last Friday had caused Flora so much heartache.

‘Actually, it’s been fantastic,’ said Flora. ‘I’ve never spent a day being bad before. In disgrace. It’s quite glamorous.’

‘But you’re not bad!’ said Jess. ‘You’re being punished because you’re
good
, remember?’

‘Oh, but it’s almost as good as being bad,’ said Flora. ‘People were coming up to me all day and were like,
I hear you’ve been chucked out of the play
. I had this kind of feeling, you know, kind of criminal chic. I may even defy my dad and have my nose pierced.’

‘Well, you’re on a downhill path,’ said Jess. ‘With luck you could avoid your dreadful destiny at Oxford University and head for a women’s prison instead.’

‘Anyway,’ said Mackenzie, annoyingly, as if everything everyone had said so far was irrelevant and time-wasting and he was really in charge, ‘now you’re not in the play you can be in our comedy show.’

Jess nearly hit him.

‘I’ve had a great idea,’ Mackenzie went on. ‘I could present the show as Shrek.’

‘I’ll just get myself a massive snack,’ said Jess, getting up and going to the counter. She was so tempted to bite Mackenzie she would just have to sink her teeth into a sandwich instead. How was she going to deal with Mackenzie and make him realise he was
not
in charge of the show? And what if Fred didn’t show up? What if he had bottled out?

However, two minutes later, Jess had just taken an enormous mouthful of a BLT roll when Fred walked in. He looked a little pale, but his eyes glittered strangely. He threw himself down into a chair and looked directly at Jess.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘I’m not in
Twelfth Night
either, as of now.’

‘You
what
?’ said Flora, astonished.

‘I gave in my notice,’ said Fred, ‘to show solidarity, and so forth, and to express my disgust at the way you were treated on Friday. Acting on instructions from my captain here.’ He nodded at Jess. His captain! This was by far the best moment of the term.

‘I’m proud of you, Parsons,’ said Jess in a US Marine Commander’s voice. ‘You’ll get the red star for courage, the white star for an excellent haircut under fire . . . Heck, you’ll get every star in the sky.’

‘Sir!’ said Fred, saluting.

‘You did this for me?’ Flora gasped, tactfully turning to Jess, to avoid any suggestion that it was Fred’s idea, and that Flora was so touched she might fall in love with Fred (
again
– there was a little bit of history there).

‘Yes,’ said Jess. ‘Well, the way Thorny treated you, she deserves everything she gets. But hey, Fred – what did you say to Thorn? Did she blow you away?’

‘The details of our interview must remain private,’ said Fred, with a nervous grimace. ‘Anyway, she’s got Luke Harding now. He was my understudy, and now his moment has come. His nose was certainly created with comedy in mind.’

‘He’ll be rubbish compared to you,’ said Flora.

‘And what’s-her-name with the red hair will be rubbish compared to you, dear lady,’ said Fred.

‘Anyway,’ said Mackenzie, ‘the great thing is that now you can be in our comedy show, too.’

‘It’s kind of Fred’s show anyway, Mac, you idiot,’ said Ben Jones quickly – by his standards. ‘He’s, like, written all the material so far and he and Jess were planning to do it – uh, ages ago.’

Jess gave Ben a smile. He was such a darling! Then her attention was distracted by somebody coming into the cafe. It was Jack Stevens, the amazingly handsome guy who was playing Orsino in
Twelfth Night
. He walked straight up to their table and looked right at Flora.

‘I’m really gutted you’re not in the play any more,’ he said. Flora went bright red. ‘That woman is a nightmare,’ he went on. ‘You were brilliant. It’s rubbish without you.’

Flora smiled, but her heart was beating so fast you could see the pulse in her neck. She opened her mouth, but no words came out: her lips trembled.

‘Yeah!’ said Jess, leaping to her rescue. ‘You’re so right. Thorny is a monster. Wanna Coke?’ She leant back and dragged an extra chair over from the next table, and placed it between her and Flora. Jack Stevens joined them so eagerly Jess just knew he fancied Flora. Who wouldn’t?

‘I’ll get some more drinks,’ said Fred, and went off to the counter. Jess joined him.

‘I see the demon lover has come up trumps,’ said Fred, buying a few more bottles. ‘Almost illegally good-looking, isn’t he, the great big show-of
f
?’

‘Shut up, Fred,’ giggled Jess. ‘This is the best thing that’s happened to Flora for ages. She hasn’t had a boyfriend since Mackenzie, and even then, the person she really had a crush on was you.’

‘Don’t remind me,’ said Fred, paying at the till. ‘That was a narrow escape. Phew! Worse than
Jaws
.’

They went back to the table, where Mackenzie was arguing with Ben, and Jack was staring intently into Flora’s eyes as if longing to sweep her into his manly arms. Flora had evidently thought of something to say to him, and she had never looked prettier. Fred passed round the drinks and sat down.

‘Right,’ said Mackenzie. ‘This is a kind of meeting about our comedy show, so let’s get on. I’ve had some fantastic ideas. I’m going to present it as Shrek.’

Fred looked swiftly at Jess, and knew instantly what she was thinking.

‘No, I think Jess should present it, actually, old boy,’ said Fred. ‘Argue with me at your peril. Jess is going to present it – as Miss Thorn.’

‘Miss Thorn!’ gasped Jess. ‘Fantastic idea!’

‘But . . .’ Flora hesitated. ‘Won’t she, like, get really cross, and won’t it be, well, a bit risky?’

‘She deserves it!’ said Jess. ‘It’s a brilliant idea, Fred.
Sit still – yes, I mean YOU! And there is to be no tiresome laughing.
’ Everybody cracked up.

‘That’s amazing! It sounds just like her!’ said Flora. ‘And we could make you look quite like her, actually. All we need is a power suit and make your hair into a kind of sleek bob, and the eyebrows, well – you’re queen of the eyebrow pencil anyway.’

‘You’ve really got her voice,’ said Jack in amazement. ‘How do you do it?’

‘Miss Thorn could be chatted up by Shrek,’ said Mackenzie. ‘I could do Shrek, no problem.’

‘Look, Mackenzie,’ said Jess patiently, ‘stop trying to control everything. Fred’s the producer/director now, OK? What he says goes.’

‘OK,’ said Fred. ‘Let’s make a list of ideas, yeah? I’ll put Shrek down, just to keep Mackenzie happy. But we can always rule it out later.’

He looked round with a charming smile, and got a pen and a notebook out of his bag. Jess felt a great surge of joy. Jack Stevens had arrived to cheer Flora up. And the comedy show was going to be terrific. She was going to take the mickey out of Miss Thorn, quite mercilessly. She’d have the whole school laughing at her. And it would feel fabulous. The revenge she’d been longing for was right here in her hands, and who cared about the consequences?

Chapter 32

After another week with Mrs Tomkins, Jess rejoined normal lessons. She was intrigued by the way Miss Thorn just ignored her completely. In fact, Jess, Flora and Fred might just as well have been totally invisible. She marked their work and gave them grades, but never asked them questions in class – never even looked at them. To Jess, this was a sign that Miss Thorn was majorly upset. It was a triumph.

Jess watched Miss Thorn closely. She noticed every little habit. Miss Thorn had a way of rubbing her thumb against her index finger. She also had a way of glaring at somebody which included a flash of the whites of the eyes. She sometimes pursed her lips like someone who has just sucked a lemon.

And Jess listened avidly to her voice. There was a kind of tinny edge to it, as if she was deliberately making it into a thin whine. Jess practised all this at home in front of the bathroom mirror. She was writing the script for Miss Thorn’s introduction of the comedy show, and her appearance between sketches which linked things together and gave the others time for quick costume changes when necessary.