Strictly Friends? (2 page)

I'm going to stop before I blub all over the keyboard and break it.

Love to everyone, especially your mad mum.

Megan xxx

from: Jake

to: Megan

sent: 11 September

subject: hugs

You sound kind of down. I'm really sorry. I wish there
was something I could say. If it's any help, we all miss you loads here. Amanda was asking after you in class yesterday. And Laney said it wouldn't be the same without you arguing with her about choreography! Even my mum says she can't get used to you not being next door and popping round every five minutes.

And I miss you lots of course. Yeah, eight years – something like that. Wow. Wonder how many hours we've spent together? Most of them practising the waltz, I bet! LOL.

Hang in there. It'll get better, I'm sure. You just need to find a dance class and then everything will be fine. You know how dancing makes it all better!

from: Megan

to: Jake

sent: 12 September

subject: re: hugs

I've seen a poster for a new salsa class starting up. It'll probably be full of beginners, but it's the only thing I can find. Do you think I should go?

Megan xxx

from: Jake

to: Megan

sent: 12 September

subject: salsa

YES.

‘SALSA?' SAID MEGAN'S
mum, Nicola, frowning as she stared at the oven. ‘Just salsa, not any other kind of dancing?' She twiddled one of the dials. ‘I can't remember how I made this work yesterday.'

‘Yes, just salsa,' said Megan. ‘But I thought maybe the dance teacher would know of other classes nearby.'

Nicola nodded. ‘Good idea. You should go along. What level are they? The dancers, I mean.'

‘I think it's a beginner's class.'

Nicola raised her eyebrows. ‘You don't want to be doing that, do you? It'll drive you mad. You haven't been a beginner since you were six.' She sighed. ‘Maybe I should just twist all the knobs at once and see what happens.'

Megan reached over and flicked a switch on the wall. The oven pinged on. ‘You forgot the fuse switch.'

Nicola gave a short laugh. ‘I am such an idiot. It's big and red and says “OVEN” on it, how could I miss it?'

Megan shrugged. ‘Can I have a new pencil case?'

‘What's wrong with the one you have?'

‘It's not big enough. I have to take coloured pencils for maths and they won't fit in.'

Her mother frowned. ‘Why would you need coloured pencils for maths?'

‘I don't know, it's what they told me. Colouring pie charts or something. So can I have one?'

Nicola glanced at her daughter. Like Megan, she had long auburn hair and green eyes, but there were dark circles under her eyes, and her hair hung limply. She sighed. ‘All right. We'll go choose one after school, shall we?' She rubbed her hand over her face. ‘I need an early night.'

A small ball of energy rushed into the room. ‘Mummy, Mummy, Snowy fell into the fireplace!' Owen held up his new toy.

‘Oh, Owen,' said Nicola, reaching for the leopard and brushing at its fur, ‘it's covered in soot. I told you not to play near the fireplace. What happened to the fireguard?'

‘It sort of collapsed when Snowy was bouncing
on it,' said Owen. ‘Can you make him white again, Mummy?'

‘I don't know. Probably. But not now, Owen, hey? I'm trying to make dinner.'

‘Macaroni cheese, macaroni cheese!' chanted Owen.

‘Yes, hopefully,' said Nicola. She cast a pleading look at Megan. ‘Assuming I get a minute to make it, that is. Can you amuse Owen for a bit, love?'

Megan felt annoyed. ‘Can't he amuse himself?'

‘Not without something getting broken,' said her mother in a sharp tone. ‘Please, Megan. Just for ten minutes or so.'

‘Oh, all right.' Megan glanced at Owen. ‘Come on, tinker.'

‘Don't call me tinker.' Owen stuck out his bottom lip. ‘I don't like it.'

‘Whatever. Let's go and play with your toys.'

‘They're all boring.'

‘What about your castle?'

‘Still in a box.' Owen looked mutinous. ‘Still got everything in boxes.'

‘Well,' said Megan, ‘let's unpack one.'

Nicola pulled a face. ‘We've ordered a new carpet for his room, remember. Can't have too much stuff out.'

‘I hate this house!' Owen announced, and ran out of the room.

Megan rolled her eyes. ‘He's such a baby.'

‘Megan . . .'

‘All right, all right. I'll go and find him.' Megan stomped off towards the stairs. Behind her, she heard her mother give a frustrated sigh before tipping the macaroni into a dish.

Owen was sitting in the middle of his bedroom floor, glaring at his empty bookcase.

‘Hey.' Megan sat down next to him. ‘You OK?'

‘Stupid house. Stupid place. I want to go home.'

‘This is home now,' said Megan.

Owen shook his head. ‘No, it isn't.'

Megan bit her lip. ‘No, it isn't really. I feel the same way. Nothing's in the right place.'

‘And everything smells funny.'

‘But we have to get used to it,' Megan told him. ‘I'm sure we'll be very happy here.'

Owen glanced at her shrewdly. ‘You're just saying that.'

‘No, I'm not,' Megan lied. There was a bang downstairs. Megan was relieved at the distraction. ‘That's the front door. Daddy's home.'

‘Hello!' came a voice from the hallway. ‘Is this the Hirst residence, or have I arrived at a storage facility?'

‘Daddy!' yelled Owen, jumping to his feet and running down the stairs.

‘Don't run!' came Nicola's shout.

Megan stood up slowly. She knew exactly how Owen felt. Everything was wrong here. Back home, she knew where everything was – every squeaky stair, every door that needed a special nudge to close properly, every crack in her bedroom ceiling. Here it was all strange, like they shouldn't really be here. It was like going to stay in a holiday cottage – only this wasn't a holiday, it was for the rest of their lives. Well, the foreseeable future anyway.

From downstairs, Megan could hear the voices of her parents floating up to her, punctuated by Owen's questions and comments. Owen would have forgotten their old house within a couple of months, she was sure. But
she
wouldn't. It wasn't just the house itself, it was all those memories. She'd grown up in Milton; it was the only place she'd ever lived. She knew who she was in Milton. Megan from Milton did ballroom dance, played tricks on her next-door-best-friend and splashed in the paddling pool with her little brother.

But here, Megan felt itchy on the inside, like there was something crawling under her skin, making her grumpy and upset.

She had to start all over again, make new friends, find her place. And she wasn't even sure she was going to be the same person she had been back home.

Who was Megan from Parchester?

Megan felt nervous as she waited outside the Alexander Arts Centre. Her mother had walked her round the corner, but Megan had persuaded her not to hang about. ‘It'll be starting in a minute,' she said. ‘You don't have to wait with me.'

‘You're a big girl now,' said Nicola with a grin. ‘All right. But I'll come and meet you at the end, OK? At least . . .' Her brow creased. ‘Hmm, that could be a bit tricky. It'll be Owen's bedtime. And your dad's working late tonight on some design project.'

Owen, who was trying to balance Snowy on top of a low wall, frowned. ‘It's not bedtime for ages and ages yet.'

‘Mum, it's only round the corner,' said Megan. ‘It takes three minutes. I can walk home on my own after the class.'

‘Are you dancing?' asked Owen. He looked around. ‘Where's Jake?'

‘Jake doesn't dance here,' Megan told him. ‘Remember? Jake's back home in Milton.' She swallowed. Going to a dance class without Jake felt like going to school without her left leg.

‘I like Jake,' said Owen firmly. ‘He makes good Lego models.'

‘I don't want you walking home on your own,' said Nicola. ‘It'll be late.'

‘Seven o'clock is not late, Mum.'

‘It'll be dark.'

‘No, it won't! It's September, Mum, not the middle of winter!' Megan tried to sound reassuring. ‘I'll be fine, honestly.'

Nicola bit her lip in indecision. ‘You'll have to walk past that skate park, that's all. It's full of . . . of . . . young people.'

Megan couldn't help but laugh at that. ‘Now you're just being silly.'

‘Am I?' Her mother looked anxious. ‘Maybe I am a bit. All right. You walk home on your own, OK? But keep your head down as you go past the park. Don't make eye contact with people, in case they see you as a target. For mobile phone mugging or something.'

‘Mum . . .' Megan rolled her eyes.

‘And if you're any later than five past seven, I'm coming out to look for you. With Owen in his pyjamas if necessary.'

Owen giggled. ‘You can't go out in your pyjamas. They're not proper clothes.'

Megan felt relieved when her mother had gone. It was hard enough starting again in a new place without your mother cramping your style! She took a deep breath and pushed open the main double doors. The poster had said the salsa class would be in Studio Two. Megan hesitated for a moment and then headed down the corridor in the direction of the sign.

There were several other girls in the corridor already but none of them looked as nervous as Megan felt. They all seemed to know at least one other person, and Megan shrank back against the wall as the little groups arrived and stood around chatting and laughing. There were a couple she thought she recognized from her new school, but she couldn't bring herself to talk to them. Again, she felt a wave of homesickness for Laney's class, where she knew everyone and there was a comforting smell of floor polish and leotards. The corridor here smelled of socks and paint. In the hope that it would make her look more confident, Megan busied herself with changing into her dance shoes. Thankfully, she didn't have to wait
long because a young woman covered in coloured scarves and clanking bangles swept into the corridor and said, ‘Goodness, isn't it cold! We'd better get started and warm up!'

The studio was a large room with a piano in one corner and not much else. Megan had been secretly hoping for a sprung floor or at least a wall of mirrors, but there was nothing like that here. She felt her heart sink in disappointment. This was nothing like the studio she was used to back home. Clearly this dance class was going to be no use at all to her. She wondered if she could slip out the back without anyone seeing.

‘Hello, everyone!' said the young woman in a loud voice. She waved her arms to stop the girls chattering. ‘For those of you who don't know me, I'm Corinne, and I teach ballet and tap here at the weekend.' Her eyes swept over the group. ‘I must say, I'm really pleased so many of you have come this evening. I know one or two of you, but it's great to see so many new faces.' She caught sight of Megan edging her way to the door. ‘Do come in properly,' she called, and waved Megan over. Megan flushed. There was no chance of escaping now!

‘I need to say straight away that I'm not ballroom trained,' said Corinne, smiling at Megan, who now
felt even less enthusiastic. Not ballroom trained! She'd probably find that she knew more than the teacher! ‘But I have done a few classes in my time, and I know there was some interest in starting a group like this. Have any of you done salsa before?'