Looking for JJ (12 page)

“Sorry we’re late,” she said, looking directly at Michelle who was averting her eyes, glancing at her food or across the lake.

“Can we sit down?” she tried again, her voice cheerful though her shoulders were rounded, her rucksack getting heavier by the minute.

“Suit yourself,” Michelle said. “There’s room enough.”

Sonia, the other girl, looked round at Lucy.

“There’s enough room for a
mouse
anyway.”

Jennifer caught Michelle’s eye for a second. She could hardly believe it. Michelle had told her! She had gossiped to Sonia about something Jennifer had said. How could she?

“Mouse?” Lucy said, looking round.

The two girls burst out laughing.

“Squeak, squeak,” Sonia said, looking straight at Lucy.

Jennifer gave a look of fury and turned away, pulling Lucy by the hand and going across to another table. They sat with their backs to the two girls and unpacked their lunch. They ate in silence, Lucy playing with the tinfoil in which her sandwich was wrapped, folding it into shapes. Jennifer gave a weak smile but she was squaring her shoulders, making her back like an iron door, shutting out the others, closing herself against them. When they’d finished and the teacher blew the whistle to start Jennifer took Lucy’s arm and surged ahead, her irritation propelling her so that the two of them covered the remaining few kilometres in less than an hour.

“We’ve won!” Lucy said when they arrived back at the original picnic area.

Although it hadn’t been a race they were the first back. A couple of the mums took their booklets and then Jennifer went to the toilet. Lucy followed her and Jennifer sighed. Was the girl going to cling to her all day? Emerging from the block she stood for a minute looking into the distance. There were groups of kids coming towards them and she could see Michelle among them.

Then, in the corner of her eye, she saw a sudden movement. Looking round she came face to face with one of the feral cats.

It was on a mound behind the bins. It was straggly and thin, its haunches sticking out, its fur flat and dull. Its ears were stiff and upright, as though it was listening for the smallest sound. It seemed to be tiptoeing around the grass, its big black eyes looking here and there, its shoulders hunched with anxiety. She moved towards it and stopped abruptly because the cat had turned to look directly at her, its dark eyes pinning her to the spot.

“Do you see it?”

Lucy was behind her, her voice no more than a scratchy whisper. Jennifer looked at her with irritation. She wished Lucy would just go away. When she looked back the skinny cat had disappeared.

“I’ve got to go,” she said and strode across the grass towards the other kids who were coming up to the end part of the walk. She didn’t look back and hoped that Lucy wasn’t following. After a few minutes she reached the first group, among them Michelle and Sonia.

“Hi,” she said, forcing a smile.

She was going to pretend that nothing had happened. To try and get things back to normal. She and Michelle. Best friends.

“Do you want to come round my house afterwards? My mum’s had some new photos done today. We could have a look.”

“Nah,” Michelle said, threading her hand through the other girl’s arm. “I’m going round Sonia’s. Why don’t you ask Mouse?”

Sonia smirked and Jennifer stood still and let them move ahead. There was a great lump of hurt in her throat and she tried to swallow it back. In the distance she could see Lucy leaning against a tree. She felt an overwhelming dislike for the tatty girl. She didn’t want to see her again that afternoon; she didn’t want to be anywhere near her scruffy anorak or her uncombed hair. She turned and walked off, towards the public footpath in the direction of the road. It wasn’t allowed, she knew that. She was supposed to wait for the teachers but she’d had enough of Berwick Waters. It was only a crappy park, anyway.

She didn’t cry until she got back to Water Lane and pulled her key fob out of her pocket. The tiny skateboard and pink fluffy heart blurred in front of her as she opened the door.

“I’m back!” she shouted, her voice cracking.

Her mum’s long tan coat was hanging on the banister and her shoes were laying at angles at the bottom of the stairs.

“Mum?” she called up the stairwell.

There was no answer, and when she went into the kitchen there were fragments of paper all over the table and floor. She picked them up, crouching down to pull a couple from under the unit where they had drifted. She fitted the pages back together.
Glamour Girls Agency. Beautiful Models From Across the Globe.

Her mum hadn’t got the job. Should she go up and see her? Bring her a cup of tea? Probably not. It was better to leave her on her own.

 

 

 

Jennifer had only ever spoken to Mrs Nettles, the head teacher, once, on the day that she started at the school. She was a small plump lady with curly grey hair that flicked around the sides of her ears. She wore dresses made of flimsy fabrics that floated around her, with jackets that didn’t fasten and usually billowed out like capes as she walked up and down the main corridor of the small school. She had a big voice that seemed to fill up the assembly hall and her face was jolly, as if she was always remembering something funny.

She wasn’t smiling on the morning after the trip to Berwick Waters.

“What on earth were you thinking of? To walk off on your own, in the middle of the reservoir? To leave the school trip without permission? How could you? How dare you!”

Jennifer was standing in the middle of the room. She’d been called there as soon as school began. It hadn’t been a surprise. Miss Potts had arrived on her doorstep the previous afternoon, just after four, demanding to see her mum. Jennifer had lied and said she was out at work. The teacher had been furious when Jennifer shrugged, unable to say why she had left the reservoir on her own. Miss Potts had had to leave someone else in charge. She no longer had the whistle round her neck. No doubt she’d had to give that over to some other teacher who could blow it to keep order among the children.

When Mrs Nettles finished speaking she stood up and wafted across to a filing cabinet for a brown cardboard file. She opened it as Jennifer stood awkwardly. Her feet were tightly together and she didn’t move a muscle, as though she were balancing on the top of a high pole. Mrs Nettles was rustling sheets of paper, making little
tsk
sounds, and Jennifer looked away, out of the window. She saw the rest of her class being led across the playground towards the playing field. Michelle was there in the middle, walking next to Sonia. It gave her a bad feeling, a tightness in her chest. The sound of Mrs Nettles’ voice made her look back.

“Jennifer, your records have finally arrived and I see here your education has been a little erratic.”

She nodded even though she had no idea what
erratic
meant.

“You’ve missed an awful lot of school over the years. And lived with your grandmother for a while. Foster placements as well. . . But you’re back with Mum now, I see. And is Mum all right? The new house and everything? Are you settling in?”

She nodded again, eager to please the head teacher, keen to get out of her office and back into class.

“This walking off, this going off on your own, seems quite out of character. Did someone tell you off?”

“No, Miss,” she said.

“I don’t know what’s happened. Honestly, Jennifer, when you’re out of school you must stay with the teachers. Never, never, never go off on your own. Anything could happen to you and it would be our responsibility. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

She had to sit in the far corner of the school office at a tiny desk and fill a whole page with writing.
Ways to Behave on a School Trip
. From time to time she looked across at Mrs Livingstone who was typing on a computer and putting letters into envelopes. When she was standing up, making a cup of tea for Mrs Nettles, she gave Jennifer a tiny smile.

After the writing was finished she looked out of the window and saw her class walking back across the playground. They looked flushed and smiley, having run round the school field, no doubt playing rounders or mixed football. At the end, linked arm in arm, were Michelle and Sonia. Jennifer felt her mouth go dry.

Her mum hadn’t been up when she left that morning. This worried her. She remembered days like this from times before when things started to go wrong. Then there were no pound coins for dinner money, no five- or ten-pound notes for shopping, no loose change for the sweet shop. Small things, really, but they suddenly mounted up and then there were social workers at the door, her mum in floods of tears. Or maybe her mum wasn’t there any more, and Jennifer had to sit in an office and smile at a secretary (not unlike Mrs Livingstone) who was typing at a computer and putting letters in envelopes.

Watching Mrs Nettles flutter in and out of the office she put her elbow on the table and leaned her chin on her hand. She didn’t want it to be like that again. They had a house and she had a school. And Michelle. For the first time she had a real friend. Except that, since yesterday, for some reason that she couldn’t quite work out, everything had changed. She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out her key ring. She rubbed her finger across the skateboard and then felt the furry heart. It was like a tiny handbag. Macy had had one like it once but Macy was old now, lying in a cardboard box with all her outfits around her. She had shown her off to Michelle who said she looked funny, like she was in a coffin; as though Macy had died and was waiting to be buried. Thinking of this suddenly made Jennifer feel sad, as if Macy really had died. Her eyes blurred and she swallowed back a few times and turned her head away from Mrs Livingstone who was nearby, flicking through a pile of papers, whispering to herself. What had she done wrong? Just because she’d felt sorry for Lucy? She lifted the key fob to her face and rubbed the fluffy heart on her cheek.

After break, she was allowed to go. She picked up her bag, closed the office door carefully and walked along the edge of the corridor towards her class. Everyone else was in lessons and she quickened her steps, not wanting to be too late. The smell of lunch was in the air and she could hear the sound of trays clattering against each other as the kitchen staff got everything ready. She gave a tiny knock on the classroom door. When no one called out she opened it a few centimetres and slipped through the gap. A music lesson was underway. She was relieved. No one seemed to notice her as she came into the room. Half the desks were covered in keyboards. Kids in headphones were looking at music sheets and tentatively pressing keys. In the corner there were some drums and a group of boys seemed to be squabbling over them. The teacher was sitting with a couple of girls with Spanish guitars and didn’t seem to notice her. An adult helper was wandering round. Through the glass, in the back corridor, were half a dozen kids with recorders. Michelle was among them. Jennifer was struck with indecision for a moment but then she put her bag down on a chair and picked up a recorder from the instrument store and went out. There were six girls in a row, reading off sheet music that had been Blu-tacked to the wall.

“Hi,” she said, walking up and standing beside her friend.

“Um,” Michelle murmured, the recorder still in her mouth. Sonia said nothing but her eyes settled on Jennifer and stayed there.

“I’ve been in Mrs Nettles’ office.”

Michelle kept her gaze on the music sheet that was on the wall. Sonia took her recorder out of her mouth.

“Do you want to go to the tuck shop at lunchtime? I’ve got some money?” Jennifer said.

Michelle didn’t answer, didn’t even acknowledge that she had spoken to her. She started to play the recorder, the notes rising and falling, her fingers moving up and down. Jennifer stood glued to the spot, her chest welling up with anxiety. She put her recorder in her mouth and turned to the music sheet. What could she say? She didn’t know what else to say. She blew into the instrument, her fingers finding the holes, her head feeling heavy.

“Maybe she should go to the tuck shop with Mouse?”

She heard Sonia’s voice underneath the notes. She didn’t turn to look but felt Michelle nodding in agreement with her new friend. She blew harder, her recorder making a discordant sound. It startled her and she stopped abruptly. She knew the two of them were sniggering, she could almost
feel
Michelle’s body shaking with laughter. She didn’t look at either of them. She stared through the glass of the classroom door and saw other kids chatting, smiling, enjoying themselves. She shouldn’t have come out here. She should have stayed in the classroom, avoided Michelle, given her time to forget the day at the reservoir.

“Poor little Mouse. Living with her nutty mum!”

“Don’t let her say that!” Jennifer said.

“What’s it to you?” Sonia said, moving forward, in front of Michelle, and squaring up to Jennifer.

“It’s not nice. . .” she said, gripping the recorder tightly, her shoulders pushing forward towards Sonia.

“Don’t wet your knickers about it!” Sonia said, in a baby voice.

Jennifer hated Sonia. She couldn’t stand to look at her silly face for a minute longer. She raised the recorder and banged it on her forehead. A single second was all it took. It was only plastic but it still made a
thwack
sound. Her hand seemed to vibrate for a few seconds afterwards but the rest of her was still, like a statue. She watched as Sonia’s face reddened and crumpled and then a long wail came from her ugly mouth. Jennifer stepped back, her arm dropping down by her side, the weapon hanging silently.

Sonia’s hands rose and covered the spot where she’d been hit. She looked like she might topple backwards for a moment, but Michelle was there stopping her from falling. Jennifer caught her eye and held it for a second. Michelle had a look of shock on her face, but there was a glint in her eye that Jennifer couldn’t quite read, couldn’t quite understand.

Then there were adults around, pushing past her, pulling her back, marching her into a corner, shouting words at her. She didn’t register much of it, she closed her eyes, feeling tired. Someone snatched the recorder from her hand and once it was gone she felt a trembling sensation in her shoulders and upper arms. She looked towards Sonia and Michelle. They were being ushered into the classroom, Sonia being held up by Miss Potts, followed by the other adult and a gaggle of excited children. On the wall, the Blu-tacked sheets of music flapped where they had been dislodged by the commotion. On the ground were a couple of recorders that had been dropped; probably one of them belonged to Sonia.

She was alone in the corridor.

The sound of footsteps made her turn. Mrs Nettles was striding towards her, her clothes flapping out, her face grim. Jennifer turned away and looked through the glass, into the classroom. Michelle was looking out at her, her expression one of awe.

That look in Michelle’s eye. That strange glint. It had been
excitement
.

 

Her mum had to see Mrs Nettles. She had to wait in Mrs Livingstone’s office while the head spoke to her. She sat at the same tiny desk that she’d written at just an hour or so before. Mrs Livingstone was still there but she didn’t look or smile at her. After a while her mum came out of the head teacher’s office, her face in a pout.

“Come on,” she said quietly, glancing over at Jennifer.

She hadn’t dressed up. She was wearing some old jogging trousers that Jennifer had seen lying across the banisters that morning. Her hair was loose with some strands hanging over her eyes. She was round-shouldered and looked fed up. Jennifer wondered whether she would tell her off, shout at her, send her to her room. She knew she wouldn’t though. Her mum hardly ever told her off about anything.

At home she sat in the living room watching daytime television. At a little after four there was a knock on the front door. When she opened it she found Michelle, on her own, carrying the school bag she had left behind. For a second she looked awkward and then, as though nothing had happened, she walked into Jennifer’s house and started to speak.

“Sonia’s fine, just a bruise on her head. You should have seen her! Mrs Nettles put her in the back seat of her car to take her to the surgery! She was looking all around as though she was the queen being driven by a chauffeur! She had it coming really, she’s got such a gob on her. I never meant to say a word to her about Lucy. She just sort of wheedles things out of you, before you even know you’ve said it. I don’t like her. Specially now. Now everyone’s feeling sorry for her!”

“Hello, Michelle,” her mum said, passing through the hallway.

“Hi, Mrs Jones,” Michelle said, and then without so much as a breath she carried on, “What about you! What did Mrs Nettles do? Has she expelled you?”

Jennifer shook her head.

“I’m suspended for five days and then there has to be a meeting between me and Sonia and I’ve got to write a letter. . . You know.”

“Look on the bright side! Five days off school!”