Girls, Guilty but Somehow Glorious (21 page)

‘Of course!’ said Tam, grinning. ‘What else could he possibly mean?’

After we’d talked about how mysterious Oliver was for about half an hour, I began to feel really shattered.

‘Bedtime,’ said Tam. ‘But oh – this is for you, Zoe.’ She reached inside her handbag and got out the envelope with the money in. She put it on the table and pushed it towards me.

‘What?’ I stammered. ‘How come?’

‘I had a little talk with Dad after Mum had gone to bed,’ whispered Tam. ‘It’s all sorted. Dad’s given me a loan instead. Not a word to Mum, though!’

‘Really?’ I stared at the envelope, relief beginning to wash over me. All those awkward feelings I’d been having were swept away. I could give Toby and Chloe and Fergus their money back, and things could get back to normal, with no edgy, guilty anxiety about how and when they were going to get repaid.

‘I felt so awful, borrowing from your friends,’ said Tam. Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Awful, awful! Like I was some sad sicko – it was like, getting into trouble through my own stupidity, and then stealing from kids’ piggy banks, for God’s sake.’

‘We’re not kids!’ I snapped, in a kind of minor huff.

‘Well, obviously not!’ said Tam. ‘Like, you guys are actually managing to save up for something, unlike my idiot self. I just let things get totally out of control. God, I’m so ashamed! But now it’s just a deal between me and Dad.’

‘Good,’ I said. ‘It’s better that way.’

‘I’m still doing poverty chic, and getting a job at Easter, and all that,’ said Tam, ‘only I secretly pay Dad back instead of you guys. But I will take you all out for a meal, just to say thank you for your support. It meant so much to me.’ A tear ran down her cheek.

‘I’m glad,’ I said. ‘It’s better like this.’ I gave her a hug.

‘Uhhh . . . it’s weird hugging you with your beard and stuff on,’ she said, breaking away with a slight frisson and a tearful grin. ‘Just promise me you won’t tell Mum about the mess I got myself into.’

‘Why would I?’ I said. Deep inside, complete relaxation was taking over me. I was now ready to sleep for ten hours, and dream about Oliver non-stop.

‘How was your evening, anyway, Tam?’ I asked, as we cleared away the mugs.

‘Oh, nice. Mum and Dad took me out for an Italian meal,’ said Tam. ‘Mum was rabbiting on about this all-male production of
Hamlet
you’re going to. She seemed really excited about it. What was it again – an all-male production, in Russian?’

A small but perfectly formed panic sprang up again in my rather overworked ribcage. There was still a lot of work to be done before my life was totally sorted. I had to sort out the lie to Mum about the all-male
Hamlet
trip. Plus I had, at some stage, to phone Scott and find out if he had survived the Norman twins. But tomorrow was another day.

‘Tam,’ I said, ‘I’m not going to the all-male
Hamlet
. Mum just thinks I am. I used it as an excuse to get enough money to come up and see you at uni. So it’s your job to think of a way of getting me off the hook. By tomorrow morning.’

‘OK,’ said Tam, yawning. ‘Your word is my command. You’re the best sister I’ve got. Sorry, I mean the best sister in the world – it’s official.’

‘See you in the morning,’ I said.

‘Sweet dreams!’ she whispered.

We parted on the landing: she to her solemn, old, disapproving teddy bear, and me to my smiley, gay, fluffy one. I knew Bruce was dying to hear all about the Ball, but to be honest, I was in such a fabulous state of turmoil, I didn’t know where to begin.