Girl, (Nearly) 16: Absolute Torture! (26 page)

Jess beat him up slightly, and then decided to bury her nose in his neck instead.

‘You smell nice,’ she said. His skin, his hair, smelt kind of spicy. It wasn’t aftershave or anything. It was Fred’s very own special scent. She wondered if, when Granny and Grandpa had kissed under the moon, Grandpa’s skin had been so delicious, all those long years ago.

Eventually they went in, and Jess kissed her dad goodnight and went to her own room. She loved her room. It was so plain and tidy, so blue and white. She pulled off all her clothes and threw them about. The room looked even better now. She unpacked the bag Mum had brought. There were pyjamas, clean socks, pants, her favourite blue T-shirt for tomorrow, her sponge bag, tissues and a lovely gift box from the Eden Project, containing a foam bath, moisturiser and other delectable goodies.

‘Mum!’ she said aloud. ‘You are a legend!’ Jess switched on her mobile, and there was a message from Flora.

HI JESS! SORRY I’VE BEEN OUT OF TOUCH. HAVING A GREAT TIME HERE. HAVE MET FAB BOY CALLED DAVE. TILL TOMORROW, GORGEOUS. HOW’S YOUR DAD?

Hastily Jess composed a reply.
AM AT DAD’S NOW. GUESS WHAT! HE’S GAY!!! I’VE MET HIS BOYFRIEND AND EVERYTHING! WE JUST HAD A GREAT DAY. EVEN MUM SEEMS RELAXED.

A message came back right away.
WHAAAAAAAT? YOUR DAD’S GAY!!!??? YOU LUCKY THING! WISH MY DAD WAS GAY. HE’S SO BORING.

Jess tapped away at her phone keypad again.
FRED’S COME DOWN TO ST IVES. AMAZING! IT WAS A TOTAL SURPRISE. HE HITCHED DOWN JUST TO SEE ME!

MUST BE LURVE
came Flora’s reply.
GOTTA GO NOW — DAVE’S BY CAMPFIRE WAITING FOR A SNOG. TEXT YOU TOMORROW. BIG HUGS, FLO XXX

Jess sighed in satisfaction, switched off her mobile and went to sleep. She hadn’t felt so contented for years. But she still dreamed she was being chased through deserted streets by a man with a pizza instead of a face. She only just managed to escape him at the last minute by summoning all her strength and rising up into the air. Dreams were so weird.

Chapter 38

Next day Mum arrived with Granny and the urn. They had to wait at Dad’s house until high tide, apparently. Granny threw her arms around Dad and told him she’d missed him. Dad looked pleased and offered her a freshly baked cheese scone.

‘Where’s this lovely Phil I’ve heard so much about?’ said Granny, looking round.

Dad blushed. ‘He’s getting his boat ready,’ he explained.

They sat on the sofa together, talking about Grandpa. Dad and Grandpa had got on really well. Grandpa was seriously into DIY and Dad had once helped him build a shed in his back garden. Dad had painted flowers all over it so it blended in with the rose hedge, and as a joke he’d added a cat’s face looking out of the leaves.

Mum went up on the terrace with Jess and Fred. Jess carried up a tray of tea. She had got used to Dad’s kitchen now. It was nice, knowing where things were. As if she belonged here. She didn’t want
just
to belong here. But she wanted to belong here
as well
.

‘Dad’s house is so lovely,’ sighed Mum, as Jess put down the tray. ‘This deck – the view over the roofs . . .’

‘Our house is lovely, too, Mum,’ said Jess.

‘Is it?’ asked Mum, looking anxious. ‘Do you really think so? It’s a mess, most of the time.’

‘Well, that’s because we’re not as tidy as Dad,’ said Jess. ‘But we could paint our sitting room blue and white if you like.’

‘Yes, maybe we should,’ said Mum. ‘It really needs redecorating. But I’ve been putting it off because I hate trying to reach up to the ceiling.’

‘I’ll come and give you a hand if you like,’ said Fred. ‘I have these long arms: may as well use them.’

‘Oh, will you really, Fred?’ said Jess’s mum. ‘How kind of you! That would be marvellous!’ Mum’s eyes shone, and then she seemed a bit embarrassed, and started fussing with the tea tray. She took the lid off the teapot and stirred the tea.

‘Leave that teapot alone!’ said Jess playfully. ‘You relax, for once. I’m going to be mother.’ Jess poured the tea out and passed the scones round.

They sipped their tea and ate Dad’s delicious scones. Nobody said anything very much. It was just peaceful and relaxed. The sun grew hot, but they were protected by a sort of awning thing that Dad had rigged up.

The last scone sat temptingly on the plate, sending its waves of hot cheese tantalisingly through the air.

‘You have it, Mum!’ said Jess.

‘No, you have it, Fred!’ said Mum.

‘No, no, you have it!’ said Fred.

‘Aren’t we all polite?’ said Jess. ‘But I happen to know there are loads more scones down in the kitchen.’

‘I’ll go and get a couple more,’ said Fred. He got up and clattered down the stairs.

Mum yawned, stretched as if she were very relaxed, and ran her fingers through her hair. All the wiry anxiety seemed to have gone out of her.

‘How’s Flora?’ she asked.

‘OK,’ said Jess. ‘She’s fine.’

‘Oh good,’ said Mum. ‘Such a nice girl.’

‘I think part of my problem with Flora,’ said Jess, ‘is I’ve always been a bit jealous. It is tough, having a friend who looks like a goddess.’

‘Rubbish!’ said Mum. ‘OK, she is beautiful, but so are you in your way.’

‘In
our
way,’ said Jess. ‘I look just like you, Mum. And guess what Fred said last night?’

Her mum looked a bit tense for a moment, in case Jess was about to reveal Fred’s declaration of love, or offer of immediate marriage.

‘What did he say?’ she asked.

‘He said you looked just like Jane Austen!’ said Jess – in a rather furtive whisper, because she could hear Fred coming back upstairs with the cheese scones.

‘Jane
Austen
?’ mouthed her mum in amazement, as if she might have misheard, and Fred might really have said she resembled Jane Mostyn, or Shane Frosting. Jess nodded.

Fred came out on to the deck, and offered Jess’s mum a cheese scone. She took one.

‘Oh thank you, Fred!’ she said. ‘You’re an absolute angel!’ And she gave him an utterly dazzling smile.

Fred looked startled. When he’d made that Jane Austen comment, he’d really struck gold.

If you ever want to sweep a middle-aged librarian off her feet
, thought Jess,
just say that she looks like Jane Austen
. Jess could tell, by the way her mum looked at Fred, she would adore him for ever. Well, they could adore him in stereo.

When it was high tide, they all walked down to the harbour. Dad was carrying the urn. They walked right down on to the pier. Phil’s boat was waiting at the bottom of a flight of stone steps. He was dressed all in white, and the boat was decorated with white flowers.

‘Oh my goodness!’ said Granny. ‘How beautiful! It takes my breath away!’

Dad and Mum helped Granny get into the boat. Phil held her hand, steadied her, made her comfortable and helped her into a cute little lifejacket. It had been decided that Granny would go out on her own with Phil. That was the way she wanted it.

Phil fixed Grandpa’s urn safely to the prow of the boat and decorated it with flowers and white ribbons. Then he started up the engine. Granny held on to the side of the boat, looked up and waved with a happy smile, as if she were going on a pleasure jaunt. Jess and Fred weren’t going out in the boat because Jess had been a bit nervous about feeling seasick, so Jess waved back down to Granny and blew her a kiss.

Phil gave a sort of salute, and steered the boat out of the harbour. Off it went, out into the bay. The sea was as placid as a pane of glass. Jess and Fred stood on the pier and watched for a minute. Mum got her hankie out and wiped her eyes. Dad gently put his arm round her shoulders.

Jess liked seeing her parents close and sharing a tender moment. But she realised that she was free for ever from that nagging desire that she’d always had at the back of her mind: that they should get together again. It was impossible. You could as soon marry a budgie and a haddock.

Fred stood close to her. He didn’t put his arm round her, but their arms touched as they leaned on the wall of the pier. Jess could feel Fred’s warmth. It was glorious. Thank goodness he was not a reptile. Jess felt very sorry for cold-blooded crocodiles for a moment. It must be terrible trying to have a relationship without any cosy hugs.

They watched the little boat as it went out into the very centre of the bay and then stopped. It was too far away to see what was happening, but there was a brief pause. Seagulls called, the sun danced on the waves.

After a while, the boat came back again. As it got closer, they could see that Granny had a flower in her hair. Jess smiled to herself.

They all crowded down the steps and helped Granny out again. Her eyes were a little bit wet, but her smile was bright.

‘We saw a dolphin,’ said Granny. ‘It reminded me of Grandpa somehow. The smile, you know.’

‘I’ve had an idea,’ said Dad. ‘As soon as I get back to my studio, I’m going to start work on a painting of Grandpa. Sitting at the door of his shed, just like he used to do.’

‘When he wanted to escape from my nagging,’ said Granny. ‘What a lovely idea! Paint him in that old green tweed jacket, Tim. That was his favourite.’

‘So, anyone for funeral fish and chips?’ asked Phil. ‘Take ’em home and guzzle ’em with a bottle of cold champagne?’

‘Oh yes, please!’ said Mum. ‘Just perfect!’

Chapter 39