Kisses for Lula (11 page)

Pen and I stared at each other in silence till Boodle the Poodle wandered out to see what was going on. She slobbered hello on Pen’s leg and then Mum came home, looking hungry.

Followed shortly by Blue and Great-aunt Phoebe wielding the
Guardian
.

‘Let’s think about Supersize Spidey later,’ I suggested, and we all trooped inside.

As I got the food on the go, Aunt Phoebe spread out the newspaper on the kitchen table.

‘There,’ she said grimly, stabbing at a headline on page seven with her perfectly manicured forefinger.

Historical librarian Dr Anne Bird of Hambledon University denies the significance of missing documents necessary to stop bulldozers moving in on one of Britain’s most ancient sites of mystic ritual. Coven’s Quarter is set for demolition if evidence cannot be provided in time for the planning appeal meeting scheduled for Monday 19 April. Dr Bird declined to comment further, but colleagues confirm speculation that she is
distracted by the recent troubles of her husband, renowned songwriter and poet Spenser Bird.

Is Dr Bird the best person to be heading up the Coven’s Quarter cause right now?

–
Felix Kennedy

‘Right,’ said Mum, her face stricken. ‘This is why the vice chancellor wants to meet with me asap.’

‘What happened with Sophie this morning, Mum?’ I asked, feeling desperate. ‘What recent troubles? Is Dad okay? This is crazy.’ The thought of this mystery woman Freya whipped into my mind. Maybe not so crazy. Who was Freya? Did this journalist know something about her?

Pen put another cup of tea down in front of Mum. ‘How would this Felix Kennedy know the material is missing?’

‘Your father might have been talking to strangers,’ replied Mum tightly, ‘down at the Rat and Parrot.’

‘I can ask him,’ I said, though I didn’t want to. ‘He’s upstairs I think. Should we leave him some salad?’

Mum reached over and put the last of it on her plate. ‘I’ll talk to him later,’ she replied, and I was deeply relieved I didn’t have to face him just yet. We all crunched in silence. Even Blue, though it looked like she wanted to ask a thousand things, her eyes flitting from one face to another, searching for answers she didn’t know the questions to.

Once Mum was done inhaling cucumber rounds at warp speed she said gloomily: ‘Sophie has an alibi.’

‘Tell all,’ commanded Great-aunt Phoebe.

‘Her parents say she was in her room, moving around getting ready, until her mother took her off to the dentist for her appointment at nine fifteen.’

‘Her
parents
?’ I yelped. ‘That’s not an alibi! Besides, she swiped in at eight.’

Mum looked at me squarely. ‘The dentist appointment checks out, and there’s no way she could have got to the library and back in under an hour.’

‘Course she could! Even weighed down with all the metal piercings!’

‘She lives on Stones Hill,’ said Mum with finality.

‘Hn,’ I said.

‘Big miles,’ said Pen dismissively. ‘So, Mum. Can you help us get rid of the spider?’ My mind sifted through all the library info while Pen hatched a brave plan to catch the monster. She got the video camera (don’t ask me why), I got a large bowl and some card paper, and in minutes we were good to go, with Blue as dubious wing man.

‘Has it got very hairy legs?’ asked Blue, biting her lip.

‘Don’t worry, Blue Bird,’ I said in her ear. ‘Pen’s the only one with hairy legs.’

‘
Operation Arachnid Assault showing no signs of proving successful
,’ came Pen’s documentary voice from behind the camera. ‘
Has the battalion’s leader bitten off more than she can chew?
’

‘You stay here, Blue,’ I said, ‘and hold the paper for me, okay?’ She nodded, still chewing anxiously on her lip.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open, and jumped back with a scream blood-curdling enough to bring Mum running over. She stood aghast in the doorway. ‘That thing,’ she muttered, shaking her head, ‘needs to go to the zoology department. It’s got to be from some tropical jungle. So . . .’ she swallowed, ‘
huge
. So . . . so
fast
.’

She slammed the door quickly.

‘Genetically modified?’ came Pen’s voice hopefully, like a hack on the brink of a big news story.

‘No comment,’ said Mum. ‘It’s on the loose in there. And I’ve got to go to work now.’

Pen and I burst into pleading wails for help, Blue jumping up and down babbling, ‘
Don’t go! It will eat us! It will eat us!
’ but Mum was having none of it. ‘I can’t be late, girls. I’ve got to inform the police now, and I should let Egginbottom know too.’

‘Who’s Egginbottom?’ I asked.

‘You are
so
blonde!’ sniped Pen. ‘Only, like, the town mayor.’

I slitted my eyes at her, but she just smirked fearlessly back.

‘And he’s also Mabel’s brother. Can’t believe that woman can be related to someone in office,’ muttered Mum. ‘Right. I’m off,’ she announced.

As she turned to go, Boodle the Poodle suddenly sat bolt upright and then knocked Pen right over to streak up the path at the side of the house.
CRASHSMASH!
went the video camera.

‘
NOOO!
’ shrieked Pen.

There was a horrible silence.

‘It wasn’t me,’ whispered Blue, and she scarpered to find Great-aunt Phoebe.

Mum, Pen and I stared at each other in shock.

‘Dad’s going to kill me,’ whispered Pen.

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘and –’

Suddenly there was a thud, barking and a loud yell from the front garden.

‘Oh, for the love of God,
not
the postman again! I’ve told him to call from the front gate if he needs a signature,’ huffed Mum, beetling up the path. I overtook her and turned the corner of the house to find Boodle rolling in the front garden, Arns rubbing her tummy with his foot.

‘The dog went down.’ Arnold grinned. ‘Brought my killer tae kwon do sidestep and handoff into play.’

‘What are you doing here?’ I asked, eyeing the lump on his head from the PSG wall and jerking my head at Mum with my finger on my lips.

Arns nodded slightly.

‘Everyone okay?’ asked Mum, rushing up. ‘Who yelled?’

‘I did,’ said Arnold. ‘Martial-arts moves come with calls.’

I rolled my eyes.

‘Is that you, Arnold?’ asked Mum, blinking rapidly. ‘What happened to your head? Was that Boodle?’

Arnold smiled. Boodle leapt to her feet and nudged him in the bottom with her wet nose back towards the annexe.

‘Oof!’ said Arns, staggering past us.

‘Hey!’ came Pen’s voice from the courtyard. ‘Watch for broken glass, Arnold Trenchard.’

‘I’m going to be late,’ despaired Mum.

‘Take the car,’ I suggested.

She nodded, sighing, and we followed Arns round to the back of the house where he was politely listening to Pen talking animatedly about him getting the spider out.

I clapped my hands to my face. ‘You have no shame, Pen! You can’t just hijack a visitor, and turn him into some kind of exterminator!’

‘This I’ve got to see,’ said Mum, and she sat down on the back step.

‘Fine,’ I said belligerently. ‘But I am
not
involved.’ I stabbed my finger aggressively at my sister, my eyes narrowed.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ she said.

Within minutes, Arns was poised with a takeaway container that I hoped would be big enough, and he’d even punched air holes in the lid. Pen pushed the door open, which I thought was admirable under the circumstances till I saw her brush past Arns a little closer than necessary,
casting him a distinctly flirtatious look.

‘Shameless!’ I mouthed at her. ‘You’re
fourteen
!’ and she stuck out her tongue at me.

‘Where did I go wrong,’ mumbled Mum, her glance flicking from her daughters back to Arns.

We waited quietly.

It didn’t take long for the beast to emerge. Arns moved fast to get the container over it. The box made a cracking sound on the paving and we all gasped but it held, and the spider began scrabbling on the inside of the plastic.

‘Ffff–’ said Arns, then with a glance at my mum, ‘–fffvery, very big.’

He slid Pen’s proffered piece of card under the container, then deftly flipped and whisked this way and that till at last the lid was on and the spider safely trapped.

‘I don’t feel very well,’ he said suddenly.

‘Why are you here?’ I asked again. ‘Why didn’t you reply to my texts?’

‘My mobile’s dead. Got no mobie number for you and your home phone’s not working,’ he said. ‘I had to let you know that Mona arranged to go out with me tonight. And she’s bringing Ben Latter with her – he wants to meet you. Can you come? Dinner and a movie?’

‘What?’ I was astounded. ‘B-Ben Latter?
The
Ben Latter that I have secretly fancied since I was
six years old
? Are you
serious
?’

‘Oh yes!’ Arns beamed. ‘Your flirting efforts are going to make me look really, really good. Consider it the last step in Operation Makeover.’

‘Spshslgpfff!’ I hissed. ‘You have no idea what this means, Arnold!’

Mum raised her eyebrows and disappeared into the house to find car keys.

My voice went tight and squeaky. ‘You’re nuts! Ben Latter is The One! I need a few
weeks
to get ready for a
hello
with him, let alone a
date
! Frik! Are You Out Of Your Mind? Don’t do this to me,
please
!’

Mum appeared at the back door. ‘I’ll drive you home, Arnold,’ she said. ‘On my way back to work. Come on. And I’m sure Tallulah can’t wait for tonight.’ She gave me a knowing look and I felt my face turn puce.

‘Thanks, Dr Bird,’ said Arnold. ‘Here’s the spider.’ He handed the container over to Mum and she popped it into one of her bags without a second’s hesitation. Pen and I shuddered. I made a grab for Arnold, but he was quick in following Mum to the car.

‘I’ll come round at seven?’ he called over to me. ‘Then we can meet Mona and Ben at Steak City at seven thirty?’ He turned to Mum. ‘If you’re sure that’s okay with you, Dr Bird.’

‘I’m delighted you’ll be chaperoning Tallulah, my dear,’ said Mum with a happy beam.

‘
Wait!
’ I called, jumping frantically on the spot. ‘WAIT!’

The car doors slammed shut and Mum backed the car slowly down the drive.

‘Don’t I have any say in the matter?’ I yelled.

Arnold rolled his window down and waved cheerily as they sped off. ‘See you later!’ he called, and a feeling of dread settled in the marrow of my bones.

Chapter Eleven

‘What the hell are you going to wear?’ asked Pen in despairing tones behind me. ‘Ben Latter . . . You’re going to have to pull out the stops.’

I made a small high-pitched sound. ‘Why couldn’t Arns have arranged some unscary person? I just need a kiss. And Ben Latter is never going to kiss me. Never.’ I wrung my hands, forehead tightly wrinkled. ‘He’s going to remember me from Monday morning outside St Alban’s. I was in the baggy track bottoms! All wrinkled! No mascara! Frik!
Frik!
’ I sank to a heap on the ground and noticed my hands were shaking. ‘I feel nauseous, Pen.’

‘Well, no mascara
is
a criminal offence, Lu, but forget about Ben Latter for now.’ Pen waved her arms dramatically, totally in charge. ‘We need to get this room move sorted out. Time to start painting. It will distract you.’

‘Painting?’

‘The annexe walls and that tub. But first you’re going to have to clear out the bathroom. Good thing Mum’s left. She won’t know you’ve been hacking stuff about.’

I didn’t bother with backchat. Just got to my feet with a sigh and trudged through smashed camera to the annexe.
Before I stepped inside I got walloped with the washing-up gloves we’d been using. They hit the back of my head with a wet
schluk
and stuck to my neck.

‘Wear those in case our eight-legged friend has a missus,’ called Pen, disappearing into the kitchen.

‘Frik,’ I breathed, and smoothed down my goosebumps.

At four thirty Pen bellowed something at me from out in the courtyard. My arms and back ached and I was quite sure I had paint up my left nostril. I felt ragged and worn out.

And tonight I needed to be on top form.

After tonight, just two days left till my birthday.

Two days!

I had to impress Ben Latter.

I concentrated on finishing the paint job on the bath.

Another shout from Pen. I sighed and took a deep breath. ‘WHAAAT?’ I howled back. Then felt bad. I staggered out into the sunlight to find Pen standing in the courtyard, holding up a pretty pink camisole.

‘Don’t yell at me,’ she said in a small voice. ‘I was too scared to go in there. Any more creatures?’

‘No. Sorry. Just tired.’

‘How about this?’ Pen danced the little lacy number in the air.

‘It’s see-through. Where did you find it? I haven’t laid eyes on that for, like, ever.’

‘Bottom of your laundry basket,’ said Pen quickly.

‘Ha. Not frikking likely, Pen. I’m the only washerwoman in this place and that basket was emptied yesterday.’