Peppermint Kiss (5 page)

That was nice of her. But for some reason it just made me feel really, really sick.

A little later, we tumbled into the flat, me with the picnic blanket like a sack over my shoulder with all the wellies in, like a really rubbish Father Christmas. Saff was clutching the tissue box and other bits. Grace was studying at the kitchen table and Mum was kneeling on the (now spotless) kitchen counter giving the window such a good clean that I said, “Are you trying to wipe the glass actually
off
?”

She smiled grimly. “No, I just thought it would be nice if we could see through it.”

“I waited at the gate for you,” Grace said to me.

“Yeah, sorry, I got held up,” I replied, trying to keep my voice normal and not think about standing by my locker for ages like a lemon, hoping for another coffee invite from Marco that never came.

I let the blanket fall open and all the wellies clumped out onto the floor.

Grace looked up at last. “Why are you bringing those in?” she asked. “It's June. Surely it's better to leave them in the car? There's nowhere to put anything in this place.”

Saff and I exchanged a glance then, and just as I was about to tell Grace what had happened, Mum surprised us by saying, “So I take it they came for the car, then?” She smiled grimly. “It was nice of them to leave the wellies. I'd forgotten about those.”

Grace went pale. “What? But, if they've found the car, does that mean they know where we are? Are they going to come round here and try to take the rest of our stuff? Oh my gosh, those debt men are really scary, I've seen them on TV. They could be on their way here right now. We'd better bolt the door!”

When she said that, my heart started banging in my chest too, and Saff looked terrified.

Mum spoke all in a rush. “Grace, honey, calm down, it's okay. I rang the Range Rover showroom and told them where to find the car. I didn't give this address, of course not. No one is coming after us, I promise you.”

Saff turned on Mum. “You rang them?” she screeched. “That car was the last thing we had! Even if we couldn't afford to keep it, we could have sold it and paid the rent for months ahead. And train tickets for me to go back to London. And new clothes. I could still have done my singing lessons. I don't
believe
this!”

Mum looked shaken. “It wasn't an easy decision, Saff,” she half-whispered. “But I had to do the right thing. The car was on a credit agreement, so it didn't really belong to us. It got us down here in an emergency, but keeping it after that would have been like stealing.”

“Look around, Mum, it still
is
an emergency,” Saff snapped, then went into full flouncy sulk mode and stormed off to the bathroom.

I put the kettle on and made tea for everyone, like I used to at home. I know it's weird but I love the smell of the steam coming up when you pour the water on, especially if it's Earl Grey or lapsang souchong (not that we had any of that here).

Mum came over to get her mug and paused for a moment. “Oh, Abbie, you've made five, love,” she said, looking startled.

“Oh, yeah. My brain's zapped from school,” I mumbled. But we both knew I'd automatically made one for Dad.

Mum squeezed my shoulders and gave me a sad smile, but she didn't say anything about it, thank goodness. Just tipping it down the sink seemed too awful somehow, like I was tipping Dad down with it, so I drank mine, then gulped his down too, even though I didn't really want it. Grace was buried in her homework at the table by then, and Saff was out of her mood and looking at the free paper with Mum.

As I pretended to read one of my soap-making recipe books on the sofa, I couldn't help wondering what Dad was doing right now. Was he thinking about me like I was thinking about him? Was he worried about us? I wished that he could ring us, or that I had a number for him, so I could let him know we were okay, at least.

Then I glanced at my family – Grace frowning over her books, Saff circling job ads in the paper, Mum's face a mask of worry. Suddenly I felt guilty for even
wanting
to speak to him. It felt like I was betraying them. But then, we weren't going to just forget about him, were we?

I wanted to talk to Mum about it, but it didn't seem like the right time. So, for the moment, I put it all at the back of my mind and went to get my box of beauty ingredients. I had just about enough essential oils left to make some solid perfume. I planned to fill the kitchen with the scents of rose and geranium, and maybe a bit of sweet orange and bergamot too. They're supposed to be uplifting. I doubted they were uplifting enough to make us all feel totally better about the future, but maybe their warm cosy glow swirling around us would be enough to lift the cloud of gloom just a little.

On Friday just before lunch I was putting some books back in my locker and someone leaned in close to me, sending a shiver right through me.

“Hmm, nice smell,” he said.

I knew that voice. But I should have realized it was Marco
before
he spoke. Who else would make me go all trembly like that? I had to reduce the wattage on my grin before I turned round though, so that he didn't think I was some kind of loony.

“It's solid perfume, I made it myself,” I said, showing him the little vintage compact I'd put it in. “I like making beauty products.” He looked a bit blank, so I added, “You know, face masks, moisturizers, bath foam…”

“Oh, right, like, girl stuff,” he said gruffly.

“Men should moisturize too, you know,” I told him, acting all stern. I leaned right up to him and peered at his skin. “Hmm, yes, I can already see some fine lines and wrinkles…”

He grinned. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Look, here…” I brushed his cheek lightly with my finger. Honestly, I had to use every ounce of my willpower to stop myself from trying to kiss him there and then.

Just then, Summer came striding up, and I leaped backwards and tried to look normal. She spotted the compact, took it from me and had a big sniff. “Ooooh, that's gorgeous!” she cried. “Where did you get it?”

“I made it,” I said.

“OMG, wow!” she squealed.

“OMG, wow!” copied Marco, in an even more girly way, and headed for the lunch hall before Summer could slap him one.

“I
love
this. Can you make me one?” she cried. “Where did you get the little case?”

“Oh, I pick them up from junk shops, vintage fairs. I used to go down to Portobello Road market all the time,” I said. “I've got a few left at home. Course I can do you one.”

Summer grinned at me. “Thanks. It's amazing you can make this stuff. You're so talented!”

“Oh, yes, I'm just amazing, me!” I joked. As we linked arms and set off down the corridor, I felt all warm and glowy inside. I hadn't felt that way for ages. Summer liking the perfume and wanting one had given me that real boost I used to get, like when I made stuff for Em and Zo and I could see they really loved it.

Thinking of them made me desperate for one of our long girly three-way Skype chats, but then I remembered I didn't have a phone. Mum had bought one of those pay-as-you-go ones for a fiver from the supermarket the day before, but that was strictly so people could call her about jobs, and she'd put a pound on it in case she had to ring a doctor or something.

And anyway, even if I had an iPhone with video link, what would I say to them? I'd have to tell them about everything that had happened, and how we might soon be completely homeless. For some reason, I just felt like they wouldn't understand. But strangely enough, I found myself wanting to tell Summer and Ben. Some of it, anyway. And I soon got my chance.

What happened was we were all sitting around at lunch, and I must have been off in my own world, because suddenly Summer was going, “Earth to Abbie? Are your parents cool with you coming to His Maj's gig, then?”

“Par
ent
,” I said, and then it all came out.

Of course, Summer wasn't going to be happy with just one sentence, like Marco had been. She wanted to know all the details, about the affair, and the family conference, and Mum and Dad splitting up. I told them as much as I knew, and it was a relief, actually, to talk about it.

“Oh my gosh!” gasped Summer. “You poor thing! I wish you'd told us sooner!”

Marco just gave me a sad smile.

“So what are you doing down here then?” Ben asked, looking a bit shocked.

“My dad's business went under and we lost our house,” I croaked. In my mind I saw the image of us throwing our stuff into suitcases and bags, with no idea of what was really going on, thinking we were basically off on a long luxury holiday. If I'd known I'd never see the place again, or my stuff, I'd have brought pink rabbit with me. He was only a tattered pyjama case, but I'd had him since I was about four. I know it was stupid, but thinking about him sitting there on my shelf (if he still was), or in our old neighbours' garage shoved in a box, or worse, chucked away in a bin bag somewhere, got me all choked up and I couldn't finish speaking.

Summer put her arm round me. “Oh, you poor thing,” she said. “How did that happen?”

But I still couldn't get any words out. Suddenly what had happened between Mum and Dad seemed too awful, and overwhelming, and I didn't want to talk about it any more.

“You look like you could do with an iced bun,” said Marco.

“That would be nice,” I said. I smiled gratefully at him and he smiled back at me. Then he got up and headed for the counter. It was nice, too, that he hadn't let on to Ben and Summer that he'd already known about my family situation.
And
he'd kept it just between us since I'd told him. He'd let
me
decide when I was ready to talk to them about it.

Summer was doing the goggly-eyes thing at Ben. “Good thinking about buns,” he said suddenly, shooting out of his seat. He gave me such a sympathetic smile I almost burst into tears, and then he went after Marco.

I leaned in to Summer. “I'm okay now, but thanks for being so lovely,” I said.

“Well, if you ever want to talk—” she began.

“Thanks,” I said quickly, cutting her off. “I just want to forget about it for now though.” I knew I had to compose myself
right away
, or there was a danger I'd lose it completely and have to go round all day crying like a total wreck. Which would play havoc with my mascara.

“Okay, if you're sure,” she said then.

“I'm sure,” I insisted.

She followed my gaze to where I was accidentally staring at Marco. “You two were acting weird by the lockers just now… Is something going on between you?”

Bless her for changing the subject even though I could see she was still worried about me. “I don't know, is it?” I asked. “You know him really well. You tell me.”

“Abbie!” she gasped, staring at me wide-eyed.

“I mean, no it's not!” I hissed, back-pedalling. “Nothing's going on…”

But she stood up and pulled me with her. “Right. Me. You. Loos. Now,” she said, and I was marched off.

“Summer, I don't know why you dragged me in here!” I protested, when we were in front of the mirrors, pretending to check our hair. “There's nothing to say! I really like him, that's all… As a friend…”

Her eyes bored into mine. She wasn't buying any of it.

“Okay, I admit it, I have a huge bone-shaking crush on him!” I cried. “Are you happy now?”

She gave a long sigh. “No, not really. Ben said he gave you the heads-up about Marco already, or I would have said something myself.”

“I can't help how I feel,” I said, a bit snottily.

“Well,
try
,” she countered. “Five words: Lucy. Ruby. Rachel. Sharmin. Alesha. Those are all the girls he's led on then messed about in the last few months. No, hang on, six words: Gabrielle.”

“Okay, okay, I get the picture,” I grumbled.

Summer frowned, thinking. “No, actually, seven, because there was Charlise as well. I forgot about her because she's in Year 11.”

“Year 11!” I screeched, then managed to compose myself. “Look, it's irrelevant because I don't think he likes me anyway,” I said. I secretly thought he might, but I wanted to see her reaction.

“It's obvious he does,” she countered, and I had to concentrate really hard to stop myself from breaking into a happy dance. “Has he said anything?” she asked then.

“No. Well, not really. He asked me for coffee once but I couldn't go and he hasn't said anything since.”

Summer looked gleeful. “You knocked him back?” she cried. “Hee hee! That serves him right!”

“I didn't
mean
to. I didn't even know if he meant it as a just me-and-him thing or if other people would be there or whatever, and Grace was waiting for me and—”

“He must have been gutted!” she squealed. “Oh, I so can't wait to tell Ben about this!”

I must have looked a bit annoyed then because she stopped mucking around. “Look, seriously, Abs, I'm telling you this as a friend. I've known Marco for ever, and I love him to bits. Underneath the Romeo act he's the same boy I've been mates with for years. He's kind and funny and thoughtful. But since his dad left town the last time, halfway through last year, well, I don't know… It's like he thinks he's got something to prove. He seems to like a girl, and they get really close, and maybe even start going out, then BANG, he goes cold just like that.”

“Yeah, but I—” I began, but she cut me off.

“Look, he's my mate and I don't like talking about him like this, but you're my friend too, and I don't want to see you get hurt, that's all.”

“Don't worry, I won't,” I promised her, putting on a smile. I could see how it looked, and I didn't want to seem like a total doormat. “I can look after myself. I'm a London girl, innit?” I added, doing a rude-girl voice.