Chapter 18
18
2001
I was glad to leave school yesterday. Fridays are my favourite because they mean the weekend is here and this week Alice has been more horrible than usual. She keeps talking about America. About burning bodies. About people jumping to their death. Her older brother keeps showing her videos on his phone. He shouldn’t. They sound like horror movies. Mum tries to keep her newspaper away from me, but I’ve seen some of the photos.
It’s scary. My knees feel funny when I imagine Uncle Kevin helpless. Adults in uniforms are supposed to keep everyone safe, but in America they didn’t. What if it happens near us? What if the bad people fly aeroplanes into school or where Mum works or our street? I don’t want us to die in a fire. I don’t want to have to jump out a window. And with all the noise, Tinker would run away.
I thought I couldn’t hate Alice any more than I did until yesterday because she started to be nice and for a while stopped calling me Shrinking Violet. I couldn’t work out why, at first, but then it hit me. It’s because she’s sick of me getting attention from Mrs Warham, the dinner ladies and even the boys who asked me to play football yesterday. I got a goal and some of them clapped just as Alice was walking past.
Later, Alice walked with her arm around my shoulder and looked important. I pull a face at Flint as I tell him about it. We’re sitting in the treehouse. It’s late Saturday morning. October is colder but such a pretty month with red, orange and yellow leaves. Mum is still in bed. I run home every hour to say hello to her and pretend me and Flint have been in the garden with my toys. She’d be cross if she knew I’d gone over the fence.
‘Alice sounds like a real dragon fart,’ he says and lets a beetle crawl over his hand. Half of his hair hangs loose from his ponytail and his anorak is covered in grass stains. His mum lets him play outside most of the time.
‘She even helped me tidy up the pencil pots, one of my favourite jobs. But she just kept yawning and didn’t bother sharpening the ones that had gone blunt. I couldn’t take it any more, after lunch, and shook her off; told her to keep away.’
Flint hugs his knees. ‘What did she do?’
‘Pinched me really hard on my leg and then ran off to her friends saying that I smelled bad and must have pooped my pants like a baby.’
Flint scowls. ‘Who does she think she is? You need to let me help you come up with a revenge plan.’ He sits up straight. ‘If my brothers and sisters get me into trouble – blame me for something they did – I always get them back. It’s not like I’m being mean. It’s only fair.’
I put down my book. ‘What have you done?’
‘Once Skye ate all the bottoms of the carrot muffins Mum made. She thought no one would find out as you couldn’t really tell when they sat the right way up. Skye said she saw me do it and put a bit of muffin in my coat pocket as evidence. I got my own back. Our rabbits like carrots and that gave me the idea of mixing their poo pellets in with her muesli. They look just like raisins.’
My eyes widen. ‘She didn’t eat them?’
He laughs. ‘Yes. One. She was sick. She hasn’t got me into trouble since.’ He shrugs. ‘Sometimes you have to stand up for yourself. I can help you find a way to get back at that idiot Alice.’
I hug my knees too. It feels good to have someone on my side. We meet up outside most days, either in the woods or out front. Flint’s allowed to walk to my house and I was really happy on Monday because Mum let him come inside to play. She poured us drinks and cut two slices of cake, although she gave Flint a funny look. I’m not that surprised. He was wearing one of the jumpers his mum knitted. It had gone wrong and the neck almost came off his shoulders. But Mum’s polite and she didn’t say anything. Then we went up to my room. Flint said it was cool because it wasn’t all pink and he thought the cuckoo clock from Uncle Kevin was amazing.
Flint gives me a cheeky grin and points in the corner of the treehouse. There is a big hairy spider. After reading Charlotte’s Web, I don’t mind picking it up.
‘They are probably more frightened of us than the other way around,’ says Flint.
‘That’s what Uncle Kevin used to say. Alice hates them. She screamed louder than a fire engine the other day when she saw one run out of the school games cupboard.’
‘Really?’ Flint leans forwards as I release the spider and it scurries away. ‘Then you know what to do. It’s Halloween soon.’
‘You mean catch one from the woods and?—’
His head nods up and down really quickly. ‘You could put it in her school bag or’ – his eyes gleam – ‘down her back.’
‘No way!’
‘But it’s only fair after all the things she’s said about your Uncle Kevin.’
I think about Flint’s idea when I’m tucked up in bed that night. He’s the best friend ever. He’s looking out for me. And he’s right. It’s time I stood up to Alice.