Lottie Project (19 page)

‘We’ve heard so much about you, Charlie,’ said Jamie’s mum.

I blinked.

‘You’ve made a big impression on Jamie,’ she said.

I thought about it. I’d made a
literal
impression on Jamie several times.

‘We’re going to the V and A on Sunday afternoon,’ she said.

‘The what?’

‘Sorry. The Victoria and Albert Museum. I know Jamie would love it if you’d come with us – and it
would
be very useful for this famous Victorian project.’

‘Well. Thank you very much. But Sunday is sort of special. Jo and I do things together.’

‘She’s very welcome to come too.’

‘Thanks, but . . . I don’t think we can.’

‘Well, another time maybe. And do come round to our house any time you want. It’d be lovely to see you,’ said Jamie’s mum.

I was a little bit dubious. Did Jamie have an actual thing about me? He hadn’t acted all lovey-dovey when we were in his room. The mere thought of Jamie Edwards acting lovey-dovey was enough to crease me up. Just let him try! And anyway, I didn’t want to go to some stuffy old museum on a Sunday. Like I said, Sundays were just for Jo and me.

So I was utterly shocked and stupefied when Jo dropped this ginormous bombshell.

‘We’re going out on Sunday,’ she said.

‘Oh yeah?’

‘How would you like to go to Red River Theme Park?’ she said.

I stared at her. I’d been wanting to go to Red River ever since it opened. Lisa had promised she’d get her dad to take Angela and me for her birthday treat, but that wasn’t until next year. And it wasn’t a certainty anyway, because it cost a fortune to get into Red River.

‘We can’t afford it,’ I said to Jo.

‘We’re being taken out,’ she said. ‘Isn’t it great?’

‘
Who’s
taking us out?’ I said, starting to smell a rat. A great big rat with twitchy whiskers on its lean lost face. And I was spot on.

‘Mark was talking about taking Robin this Sunday and he thought it would be so much more fun if we all went together. He’s paying, and I’m getting a picnic together. It’s going to be a fantastic day out.’

‘We don’t have days out on Sundays. We have days in. Just you and me. As a matter of fact,
I
was asked out on Sunday, the Edwards family asked me, they wanted to take me out for this bumper day in London, a drive all round the sights and lunch in Planet Hollywood and then this museum for Victorian stuff and then tea at one of those really posh hotels, scones and cream cakes and all that, and then – then we were going for dinner at the Hard Rock Café and – and
then
—’

‘Then you were going to be violently sick, I should think,’ said Jo. She reached out and ran her finger up and down my lips, the way you do a baby to make it go wibble-wibble-wibble. ‘This is a bad mouth,’ said Jo. ‘It is telling fibs.’

‘They did ask me out on Sunday, honest,’ I insisted.

‘Well, you can’t, because I’ve already said we’re going to Red River with Mark and Robin,’ said Jo. ‘Come
on
, Charlie! You’ve been desperate to go to Red River for ages. I thought you’d be over the moon. I think it’s absolutely great of Mark to invite us.’

‘Why us, though? Why isn’t he going with this girlfriend of his?’ I said.

‘What girlfriend?’ said Jo. She frowned.

‘The one he’s started seeing on Friday nights when you babysit,’ I said.

‘Oh. I see. Ah,’ said Jo.

‘What?’ I said. ‘
What?
’ Although I suddenly
knew
what.

‘I think you maybe got hold of the wrong end of the stick,’ said Jo. ‘I never said Mark had a girlfriend.’

‘So where did he go when you went round to babysit?’

‘Well . . . the first Friday he was going out, just to see this film he fancied, but we got chatting, and then we watched this film together on the telly instead, so—’

‘So you’re the one who’s been telling dirty great lies,’ I said.

‘No I’m not!’

‘And
you’re
his girlfriend now, aren’t you?’ I said.

‘Of course I’m not. Don’t be so silly. I’m not Mark’s girlfriend. I work for him. I’ve only known him a few weeks. Oh, Charlie, don’t be so difficult.’

I felt like being difficult. I was Mega Mad. No-one seemed to understand why. Lisa and Angela and I went round the shops on Saturday afternoon and they thought I was completely nuts.

‘Can’t you get this guy to take us too?’ said Lisa hopefully. ‘Say we’re your all-time best
friends
and you can’t go without us. After all, I promised I’d get my dad to take you two on my birthday.’

‘This guy isn’t my dad though. He isn’t anything. He’s just this creep who’s started chatting up my mother.’

‘Still, who cares if he’s a creep? You still get to go to Red River,’ said Lisa.

‘Yeah, I’ll go in your place if you don’t want to,’ said Angela. ‘I just go to church on Sundays. You count yourself lucky, Charlie.’

‘No, you’ve got to be a good girl and go to church,’ said Lisa. ‘
I’ll
go instead of Charlie. I just have to go to all these boring antique fairs with my mum while my dad plays golf, it’s not fair.’

‘Neither of you are going,’ I said. ‘And
I’m
not going too.’

I told Jo that on Saturday evening, while she was busy getting all this picnic stuff together.

‘OK,’ said Jo, mashing up hard-boiled eggs.

‘I really mean it. I’m not going. And you can’t make me,’ I said.

‘Right,’ said Jo, mashing harder.

‘So that’s settled,’ I said.

‘Yep,’ said Jo, pounding so hard that the bowl rattled.

‘I’m not going to Granny’s or anything. I’ll just stay here. By myself. I’ll be fine,’ I said.

‘Aha,’ said Jo, and her hand slipped and she banged it hard on the edge of the kitchen top. She bent over, clutching her wrist.

‘You’re not supposed to mash like that. You’re hopeless when it comes to cooking,’ I said. ‘Jo?’

She didn’t answer this time. Her head was so bent I couldn’t see her face for hair. I went over to her. I saw a tear trickling down her cheek.

‘I’ve really upset you, haven’t I?’ I said.

‘No. I’ve just hurt my wrist, that’s all,’ said Jo.

She can be as stubborn as me sometimes. Her wrist wasn’t really hurt. And she stopped crying when I put my arms round her and told her that I would go to Red River on Sunday if she really really really wanted me to go.

I even made some more little fairy cakes for the picnic. With messages.

Mark was exactly how I imagined him. No, worse. The sort of bumbling Bambi-eyed boy-man that makes some women go bananas. He had a tuft of hair sticking up on top and little round glasses and a big check shirt and faded jeans and one of his socks was black and the other was navy.
Pathetic
. Mark almost made little Robin look macho. He was ever so scared of me. ‘Hi, Charlie,’ he said, trying to sound dead casual, but he stuttered – and when he attempted this silly little wave, spreading his fingers, I saw his palm was all sweaty. Yuck.

But there was something far far worse. Jo. She was better at acting cool, of course. If you
didn
’t know her you’d think she was dead relaxed, making a fuss of Robin and flappy little Birdie, chatting nineteen to the dozen to Mark, telling some silly story about her supermarket job, the day her machine ran away with her and attacked a pile of loo rolls. I don’t think it even happened, she was just making it up as she went along, but it made Mark laugh and even little Robin tittered behind Birdie’s wing. But she was just pretending all the time, her voice too high, her eyes blinking, her hands gesticulating wildly. She was like a clockwork toy that had been wound up too tightly.

I yawned and started humming to myself while she was in mid-flow to show her I wasn’t impressed. I hardly said a word the entire car journey to Red River Theme Park. Jo was going jabber jabber jabber so there was no point anyway.

Mark seemed so impressed that he could barely keep his eyes on the road ahead. ‘Yeah? Mmm?
Really?
’ he’d go, and every so often he’d crack up laughing.

I slumped back in my seat, weary with this deeply disgusting performance. Mark caught sight of me in his driving mirror. ‘Are you all right, Charlie?’ he said.

I didn’t bother to reply.

‘She’s not feeling sick, is she?’ Mark asked Jo.