Leap of Faith (9 page)

At first, the mountain wasn’t that annoying. The incline wasn’t too bad; there was a clear path along the grass and Philippe was telling funny stories about all the crazy things Josette has done and I was telling him some stories about crazy things I’ve done (or sometimes, when the things were a bit embarrassing, I said that Megs had done them). After a while, I had to be a bit less colourful with the descriptions because I was starting to get out of breath. And then I had to focus hard on just walking.

Eventually, Philippe said, ‘There is the top.’

When he said ‘there’ I assumed that he meant ‘there’ right in front of us. It turned out that he was pointing to a place still very far away. If I had known it was that far away at the beginning I would have cried.

I kept my head down and plodded on.

I walked and walked.

When I finally looked up the top had gotten further away. I’m not kidding you. After that I kept my eye on it. Even so, I started to feel like you do when you try and run up an escalator that’s going down, I was practically jogging just to stand still.

I walked some more.

It became obvious that I was going to end my days trying to get to the top of this stupid mountain, so I said a silent prayer for my parents and Sam; I could only imagine how empty a life without me would be. I envisioned my own funeral and hoped that Megs would remember that I’ve said I don’t want a fuss and that just the glass carriage with the horses wearing those black feathers, and the giant sculpture of me in flowers would be quite enough of a send-off, unless people really insisted on fireworks and closing all the schools. Then I started thinking about Megs and I wished she was here. And not just because I needed a piggy-back. Philippe interrupted my thoughts of Megs’s dear old ugly mug to say, ‘It is the top.’

And it was.

‘It’s nice, yes?’ Philippe asked.

I didn’t have enough breath to tell him that although it was lovely I was now pantingly aware that I could have bought a postcard and then enjoyed the view and adequate amounts of oxygen at the same time, so I just nodded.

While I was still puffing the teachers unpacked a picnic that someone somewhere had made. There was a lot of it, which is one of my favourite things in a picnic and a lot of the food was made with cheese or cream (but not both) which is the other thing I really value in picnic items. So overall it was quite good.

I was so exhausted that I ate my share lying down. Fortunately, Angharad volunteered to ferry more cakes to me as the need arose. I was glad to see that she was still looking cheerful. Louise gave me a bit of an odd look, but she seemed pally with Ang, so I didn’t make any violent animal gestures in her direction.

‘So you’re having a good time, then?’ I asked Ang.

‘Well, at first I was so nervous that I could hardly speak. But Louise is lovely and her family are great. They’re really helping with my pronunciation. Last night they put on a play for me!’

She seemed pleased about watching some mad Frenches act for her so I smiled creamily.

‘I think my vocabulary has improved already. The French are brilliant aren’t they?’

I looked across the grass at where Philippe was talking to his exchange partner, Ollie. ‘Yep. Brilliant.’

My four helpings of cake had stopped me feeling so dizzy and I was starting to think that if I could get hold of a note letting me off PE for the rest of my life, and a helper monkey to assist me with any heavy lifting, my lungs might one day recover.

Then the teacher said it was time to go back down the mountain.

Angharad and Louise bounded off immediately. I groaned. My legs had seized up and I wasn’t sure if I could even stand up gracefully let alone saunter down a mountain in an attractive fashion. Josette had pulled a worm out of the ground and was now running after Delphine with it. Actually running; I didn’t think I’d ever run again.

‘We will go?’ Philippe asked.

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I might just stay here a little longer.’ I tried to get to my feet. ‘In fact, I might just not bother going back at all.’

Philippe’s forehead wrinkled. ‘You are going to stay here?’

I nodded my head.

‘’ow long for?’

‘Well . . . this seems as good a place as any to settle down. Nice view.’ I pointed at the stream. ‘En-suite swimming facilities.’

He looked at me as if I’d suggested moving into the worm’s hole, but living my life out on top of a mountain seemed preferable to attempting to bend my knees again.

‘’Ere, let me help you.’

And he took hold of my hand. Strangely, after that I found myself much more able to get along.

Although I might need one of those mobility scooters to get through the rest of the week.

LATER

I’m pleased to say that so far Josette seems pleasingly mad and affectionate. I can’t understand half of what she’s saying but she has given me three hugs, one Chinese burn and a packet of chocolate drops. These seem like friendly actions. I’ve replied with several squeezes, one wallop and a Curly Wurly I found in Angharad’s coat pocket.

International relations aren’t nearly as difficult as people make out.

LATER STILL

Icky, on the other hand, does not improve when you move her to another country. In fact, I suspect that even if you whisked Icky away to a magical land of unicorns and rainbows, and a banquet cooked by the fairy folk, she would still scrunch up her weasely little face and say, ‘I don’t like looking at mythical creatures of great beauty and drinking dew from a crystal goblet. I want a Heat magazine and a Diet Coke.’ Which is mostly what she’s been saying every time Josette’s parents feed us or suggest something for us to do. Except she only says it behind their backs. To their faces she’s all smarm and smirk – she is such a fake.

MONDAY 21ST MAY

You would think that taking something horrible (school) and adding something incomprehensible (French) would result in a pretty awful day, but actually going to school with Josette wasn’t that bad. The constant hum of people speaking rapid French really acts as a sort of anaesthetic.

It was pretty obvious by the bulging eyes and screechy voices that the teachers were saying the same sort of drivel that they do in English schools, but it’s even easier to let it wash over you when you can’t tell whether they’re saying, ‘You’re an irresponsible idiot!’ or, ‘How many times have I told you not to poke people in the eye with that?’. I did actually pick up some useful French in the science lab this afternoon: Josette’s Chemistry teacher taught me how to say, ‘Stop! Stop! You’ll burn the whole place down!’ by patiently repeating it every time Josette and I got creative and tried a few experiments that weren’t in the textbook. I don’t know why they don’t teach us French like that at home. You know, phrases that are relevant and can be used in everyday life.

I was pleased to discover that Philippe is in quite a few of Josette’s classes. He is very nice looking and from the way the teachers were practically doing twirls every time he answered a question he seems clever too.

I don’t know why my dad always says it would be a bad idea for me to go to a school with boys; I found that it was perfectly possible to eye up Philippe, and ignore the teacher just as well as I do back home.

I hunted Angharad out at lunchtime. She seems to be having a great time. ‘Last night, Louise and her brothers took it in turns to point to things in the room and I had to tell them the French word for them. They got faster and faster, till I could hardly get the words out and then I forgot the word for mantelpiece . . .’

My brain nearly melted at this point at the thought that anyone anywhere ever
knew
the French word for mantelpiece.

‘. . . so I said ‘Saperlipopette!’ and now Louise says it every time we see a mantelpiece. It’s so funny!’

It was nice to see her happy. ‘Josette and I did something similar,’ I said. ‘I pointed to things I wanted to eat and she told me if they were worth bothering with or not.’

‘So you learnt some French vocabulary?’

‘Not exactly. But I can make a vomiting sound in a French accent.’

Ang laughed. ‘I’m super glad I came, aren’t you? Tomorrow Louise’s parents are taking us to a museum and they’re going to let me buy the tickets! In French!’

Blimey. I’m pleased she’s having a good time, but what with the ticket buying and the pointing, how will Ang ever go back to our humdrum existence after all this glamour?

LATER

The only problem with this little holiday is Icky. For starters, it is quite revolting watching her suck up to Josette’s parents and then say rude things about them when they’re out of the room.

Secondly, she has been showing me up at Josette’s school because she has been speaking French more than me. This is because she has totally cheated and learnt a load of useful words and phrases. You’d think the teachers would appreciate my more inventive approach to communication, which involves a wide range of skills like drawing little pictures, miming and the occasional bit of expressive dance.

Thirdly, she takes any opportunity to whisper something nasty in my ear. Tonight at dinner she leant over and said, ‘If you eat anymore pastry you’ll need two coach seats on the way home.’ No one could expect me to refrain from getting violent under this sort of duress. Surely even Miss Ramsbottom would understand if I gave her a quick karate chop to the neck, as long as I leave it out of my report.

LATER STILL

I should probably start making some notes for that stupid report. I brought a notebook along especially, but so far all I’ve managed is to make a list of cheeses that I want Mum to have imported when I get home.

TUESDAY 22ND MAY

Icky Blundell has stooped to new depths. I knew she was a snake but it seems that she’s a double snake with slugs on top.

When Josette, Delphine, Icky and I got back from school today Mrs Josette greeted us at the door and asked, ‘What is this?’

Only of course she said ‘Theez’ because she is French and therefore a bit dramatic. I thought she was going to produce a severed head the way her eyes were bulging. Half a finger at the least. But then she held up a packet of cigarettes. Megs says I am prone to thinking that everyone is always looking at me, but there was no mistaking the fact that the question was directed my way.

‘They aren’t mine!’ I said.

Mrs J narrowed her eyes.

‘I don’t smoke.’

‘They were in your bed.’

I wondered who on earth they did belong to and what the hell they would be doing in my bed. Then I caught sight of Icky’s gleeful face and I knew exactly what had happened.

I gave Icky a very hard stare.

Delphine said something in French about how none of us smoked, but Mrs J shook Delphine’s hand off her arm and said to me, ‘This is very bad.’

I tried my hardest to look innocent. I mean, I
am
innocent, but I haven’t had much practice at it so I’m not sure I did a very good job. ‘I don’t know who they belong to,’ I insisted and then I trod on Icky’s foot to find out if she’s more honest with a broken toe.

She’s not.

‘I promise they’re not mine,’ I said.

Mrs J was still glaring at me. I thought she might send me home right there.

‘They are mine,’ Josette said.

I knew that wasn’t true. I tried to give Icky a filthy look, but she had busied herself admiring her shirt buttons.

Mrs J switched her glaring on to Josette and told Delphine to take the rest of us to the park.

Delphine grabbed Icky and me by the hand. I had the sense that she and Josette had seen their mum like this before. I tried to say, ‘Josette doesn’t smoke, they’re not hers either.’ But Delphine gave me a little shove down the drive.

We walked along the road in silence. When we got to the edge of some woods Delphine sat down on a log and gave a big sigh.

‘Your mum’s really cross,’ Icky said.

I turned on her. ‘She’s cross because she thinks Josette is smoking and the reason she thinks that is because you’re a complete cow and you hid those cigarettes in my bed because you wanted to get me into trouble because you’re jealous of me.’

Delphine’s eyes widened. ‘It was you?’ she asked Icky.

Icky smirked. ‘I don’t know what she’s talking about.’

‘That’s just your problem isn’t it? It’s your complete lack of understanding of what an utter witch you are that makes you think it’s okay to get other people into trouble. What’s Josette ever done to you?’

Delphine looked between the two of us and I could see that she believed me. She’s heard enough of Icky’s nasty remarks over the last couple of days to know what she’s like.

‘My mother will be angry with Josette,’ she said to Icky. ‘Josette has trouble with my mother and now, again . . . You must say to my mother you are putting the cigarettes in the bed of Faith.’

Icky shrugged. ‘Why don’t you tell her?’

Delphine shook her head in disgust.

At this point I had to intervene. ‘Delphine won’t tell her and neither will I, because we’re not snitches, we wouldn’t grass you up even though you tried to get me into trouble and you’ve definitely got Josette into trouble. We’re not like you; our sense of decency hasn’t shrivelled and decayed through lack of use.’

She at least had the good grace to look a tiny bit uncomfortable before she rolled her eyes and walked off.

Delphine and I spent about an hour in the wood. I filled in the time by telling her all of the worst things that Icky has ever done. Delphine was pleasingly shocked. ‘She is not nice.’

I nodded.

‘Not nice at all. I do not think I want to go to her house.’

‘I’m not sure she’s got a house. She probably sleeps under a rock. That’s what toads do, isn’t it?’

Eventually, Delphine thought her mum might have had enough time to calm down so we went back.

Mr J was preparing supper and Mrs J was nowhere to be seen. Josette was in her room looking a bit worn out.

‘They weren’t mine, honestly,’ I said.

She grinned. ‘I know. You ‘ave been in my house all these days, but I have not seen you with the cigarette. Not one time. And I think you are a girl for trouble, but I’m thinking when you get trouble you do not tell lies.’