Diary of a Lottery Winner's Daughter (16 page)

Friday 19th November

I can’t get Annabel’s words out of my head. I wondered all night if Annabel was right and I just wanted her to look different for my sake rather than hers. I think it’s a bit of both, to be honest. Well, from now on, I was going to be me and I didn’t care what I looked like; so this morning I decided I wasn’t going to wear the nice new outfit to school today. I’d show Annabel that clothes didn’t matter to me.

I looked through my wardrobe and found the clothes I used to wear back in the Ratcliffe estate days. I put on Spencer’s old trainers and the turned-up combat trousers and found an old green and brown camouflage top. I felt like a soldier about to go into battle. Which, in a way, I was.

The only thing that clothes had done for me so far was to get me into trouble.

I got Dad to give me a lift to school because I couldn’t face the bus. Or rather, I couldn’t face Annabel. I was so embarrassed by what I’d done. I was almost more upset about Annabel not liking me than I was about Lauren not liking me. I thought about pretending I was ill so I didn’t have to go into school at all but Mum would see right through that one. She’d know I wasn’t really ill and then she’d start questioning me about why I didn’t want to go to school and was I being bullied? I decided it would just be simpler to go in and face up to the fact that I didn’t have any friends. Who needed friends, anyway? I was fine on my own.

At least that’s what I told myself, and I believed it until I walked through the school gates. There was a bit of a buzz in the playground, like there always is on a Wear Your Own Clothes Day. Everyone was talking about what they were wearing and had they seen so-and-so and where did they get that top.

I tried to join in with some of the girls that I’d been having lunch with, but they looked sideways at my outfit and didn’t seem too keen to talk to me. I knew it would be different if I’d worn the outfit Belinda had put together for me. God! People were stupid.

And then Lauren and Stacy turned up.

They walked through the gates with their arms linked and they looked practically identical. They were wearing leggings with shorts over the top and boots up to their knees. The boots had quite high heels, I noticed, and couldn’t help thinking that they were probably holding onto each other to stop themselves from falling over. They both had white hoodies on and big, gold hoops in their ears. They’d be told to take those off though. They were against school regulations, even on Wear Your Own Clothes Day.

I’d never seen Lauren wearing anything like that before. They must have gone shopping together.

They were walking towards me, both staring at what I was wearing. I held my breath, wondering if they were going to say anything about my outfit. When Stacy saw me she started giggling.

‘It’s Wear Your
Own
Clothes Day not Wear Some Random
Tramp’s
Clothes Day.’

‘More like Wear Your Brother’s Clothes Day,’ laughed Lauren.

I could feel myself going red and willed myself not to cry. I could see Annabel coming. Had she heard? Annabel was wearing her school uniform. Why hadn’t I thought of that? She walked past us and said really loudly,

‘Yeah, it’s definitely
Tramps’
Day,’ but she wasn’t looking at me, she was looking straight at Stacy and Lauren.

I had to laugh. I couldn’t help it. I never thought Annabel had it in her. Stacy opened her mouth to say something, but Lauren grabbed her arm and pulled her through the doors.

I had to sit with them in the form room because we have designated seats, but they didn’t talk to me. I might as well not have existed. I kept my head up and tried to look normal, as though I wasn’t bothered. Even if it wasn’t true.

Annabel is avoiding me. She got on the bus after me but she didn’t look my way and, when we got off, she walked straight up the hill and didn’t wait for me. I don’t think she’s ever going to talk to me again.

Wednesday 24th November

Dad’s putting on a brave face about the fact he hasn’t got a job. He says it will give him a chance to do all the jobs around the house but I know it bothers him. I think Mum’s having a hard time with Dad and Chelsea home all day. Mum says she tries to get Chelsea to do cleaning jobs around the house, I think in the hope that Chelsea will go back to school just to get out of doing them. But apparently Chelsea just gets abusive and refuses.

I am an outcast. I am such an outcast that even the outcasts have cast me out. In other words, I can’t go to Room 122 at lunchtimes because Annabel goes in there and she doesn’t want to speak to me.

On Monday, that boy from before told me I couldn’t go in, so I took my packed lunch and a book and sat in a toilet cubicle for the whole lunchbreak. It was horrible. I did think about asking Mum if I could go to a different school, but then I thought that might be worse because I’d still have to make new friends and I wouldn’t know where anything was and it might not be any better than this one in the end. People would tease me about my height. At least here they’re all used to me, whereas at a new school I’d stand out.

I’ve started going into the library instead of sitting in the loo. Most people avoid the library because the librarian is so scary. I was a bit scared at first, but then I realised she just doesn’t like people messing around in there and if, like me, they’re interested in the books then she’s perfectly nice and helpful. She’s pointed out some really good books to me. I can even manage to eat my lunch in there if I’m really careful that she doesn’t see me. Sometimes I see Annabel in there doing her homework. I suppose if she gets it done at school she can spend more time with her mum in the evenings.

I’ve finished all the books she lent me. I ought to take them round to her flat but I haven’t dared yet.

Last Saturday I found a really good secondhand bookshop near our house. I wonder if Annabel knows about it. Mum always agrees to buy books online for me, so my bookcases are filling up fast. I love waking up in the morning and seeing all my books on the shelves.

I’ve spent a lot of time wishing. I’ve wished that everything will go back to normal. It hasn’t. I’ve wished Stacy would go away. She hasn’t. I’ve wished Annabel would talk to me. So far she hasn’t, though I think she smiled at me on the bus the other day. I think Gypsy Ginny’s wishes have all run out. The other day I measured myself on the door frame and started screaming because I’d actually grown half an inch! Chelsea came running along the corridor.

‘God!’ she said when I told her.’Is that all? I thought you were dying or something.’

I never knew she cared that much. Then she spoilt it by saying,’ Anyhow, you haven’t grown, you idiot, it’s just because you’ve got a new carpet with underlay and stuff.’

I’m not going to measure myself again until after Christmas. I’ve told Mum that if I haven’t grown any more by then I want her to take me to the doctor but she thinks I’m being silly. She said that Gran, Grump’s wife who died when I was two, was really small and that it’s just genetic and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.

Thursday 2nd December

When I got home today I dumped my bag in the hall and was about to go to the kitchen to get a drink and a biscuit when the door from the back passage swung open and Chelsea came storming out. ‘I hate you!’ she shouted over her shoulder and burst into tears.

I flattened myself against the wall to stop her from knocking me down as she stormed past. The door slammed shut as she made her way up the stairs, then it opened again as Dad came hurling past and I had to flatten myself against the wall again.

‘And don’t think that just because you’ve walked off that this is the end of it!’ he yelled at her. Dad was yelling. My dad. Yelling! Something was badly wrong.

Dad went out the front door, slamming it behind him.

I heard a loud psst above me. I looked up and saw Spencer peering through the landing rails.

‘Up here, quick,’ he whispered dramatically.

I glanced longingly towards the kitchen.

‘Don’t worry,’ he called,’ I’ve got provisions in my room.’ He didn’t wait but disappeared up the attic stairs and I followed.
He’d better have biscuits, I
thought as I entered his room.

‘So what’s the problem?’ I said, sitting on his swivel chair and spinning myself round. He hates it when I do that because it messes up the height but he didn’t say anything about it. He was running his fingers through his fringe which he only does when he’s really upset.

‘Chelsea.’

‘What’s she done now?’ I said.

Spencer’s fringe was sticking up. It was very funny and normally I’d have teased him but I could tell there was something very wrong and I was beginning to get worried.

‘There’s been the most horrendous row,’ Spencer continued quickly.

I shrugged. ‘So what’s new?’

‘No, I mean like World War Three or something. You’re lucky you missed it. I think it’s been going on all day. Or at least since Mum checked her credit card balance this morning.’

‘What are you talking about?’ I said, though I could guess what was coming.

‘It turns out that Chelsea’s been “borrowing” Mum’s credit card and spending loads of money at that Health Spa shop on the high street.’

I knew the one he meant. It was at the top of the hill where I used to part company with Annabel every day, before we fell out. I did think that Chelsea was looking different. I assumed she was going to her friends for hair, nail and make-up sessions. I couldn’t help thinking that Chelsea had been behaving really badly ever since Mum won the lot-tery. Not that she was exactly well behaved before, but she’d never have done anything like this.

‘Mum went completely spare,’ Spencer said.

‘Well, she would, wouldn’t she?’ I said. ‘You know what Mum thinks about stealing. God, why would Chelsea do that? She must have known Mum would find out!’

‘I don’t know,’ said Spencer. ‘Maybe she thought Mum’s got so much money she wouldn’t notice.’

‘Then she’s more stupid than I suspected,’ I told him. ‘If anything, Mum’s even more careful with money now than she used to be. I think she’s worried she’s going to spend it all and have to go back to being hard up again. Surely Chelsea must have noticed that? How could she do something like that to Mum?’

‘I reckon that somewhere in her little brain she thinks she’s entitled to it,’ said Spencer.

For a moment we were both silent while we took in the enormity and stupidity of Chelsea’s crime.

‘Anyway, Dad’s grounded her for life and is taking her allowance until she’s paid all the money back. When I escaped upstairs he was saying he was seriously thinking about sending her to one of those Brat Camps in America.’

‘Why America?’ I said.’Don’t they have them here?’

‘No, I checked on the internet. You have to live in the desert or the mountains for weeks or months, or at least until you’ve realised what a complete idiot you’re being. The idea is that you can’t escape. This country isn’t big enough. You’d only have to walk for a few hours before you found a pub, even if they put the camp in the middle of Exmoor or something. Anyhow, Dad was deadly serious. He said her behaviour was impacting on the whole family and that as the eldest she should be setting an example. I think he’s worried that you and I are going to start copying her.’

This was a pretty long speech for Spencer. He opened a drawer in his bedside cabinet and handed me a bottle of Coke and a packet of chocolate biscuits. We sat sipping and nibbling and thinking.

After a bit Spencer said,’ Mum’s gone to the Health Spa shop to give them a rocket about accepting a credit card off a sixteen-year-old. I think Dad’s gone round to see Grumps. Maybe he’s hoping for some advice on being a parent.’

I finished the last of my Coke. ‘So if everyone’s out, why are we hiding away in your room?’ I said indignantly.

‘Chelsea’s still here. I just thought it would be safer up here.’

‘Do you think we should go and see if she’s all right?’ I didn’t want to see Chelsea, not after what she’d done, but that didn’t stop me worrying about her.

Are you serious?’ said Spencer. ‘She’ll only shout at us.

You can go if you want, but I don’t think she wants to see anyone right now. She’s probably blubbing and won’t let you in anyway.’

I knew he was right so I went to my room to do my homework. I paused on the landing but Chelsea’s door was firmly shut and it was ominously quiet. She wasn’t playing her music really loud like she usually does when she’s upset.

Dinner was tense. Dad was all for hauling Chelsea out of her room and giving her another telling off but Mum said to leave it. She’d come out when she was hungry. I don’t know what’s going to happen.