Lula Does the Hula (9 page)

‘Anne!’ Jack looked really pleased to see Mum. ‘You’re going to stay? It’s on in three minutes.’

‘Oh.’ Mum looked at her watch. ‘We really need to get back for Blue’s bathtime. I’ve Sky-Plussed it at home.’

‘I don’wannoo bath,’ said Blue. ‘I’m ver ver clean.’ She held out her hands, covered all over with bright felt-tip marks.

‘I –’ started Mum, but she was interrupted by another screech of tyres outside.

‘Someone’s driving recklessly,’ said Pen.

We all craned our necks to see out of the living-room window. The claw marks across the bonnet of the car outside left me in no doubt. ‘Bludgeon’s here,’ I announced.

‘You. You know someone called Bludgeon,’ remarked Jazz, like it was the final nail in the coffin of how ridiculous I was.

I didn’t answer. I was too busy staring out of the window, incredulous: rammed into Bludgeon’s car was his brother and Pen’s boyfriend, Fat Angus, then Alex and Carrie and Tam and Mr Kadinski. How had they all ended
up together? And how
on earth
did they all fit into that clapped-out death trap?

‘Mr K made it!’ I cried. ‘I thought he’d be stuck with the wrinklies over the road!’

‘Lula,’ reprimanded Mum. ‘Have respect for the elderly, please. Come on, Pen, Blue, time to go.’

‘Stay,’ said Jack. ‘Please.’

‘Please, Mum,’ asked Pen deferentially. She’d seen Fat Angus and gone all glowing.

Mum looked at me. ‘You don’t mind?’

‘Course not,’ said Jack. ‘Sit next to Lula on the sofa. Pen, you squish in there too and make space for Fat Angus. Forest, chairs, man. We need more chairs.’ He grabbed the remote for the DVD player and pressed record, turning the volume up slightly too.

Forest disappeared and came back with a bunch of wooden dining chairs, a little swivel stool and a massive desk chair that looked dangerously twirly.

Jazz didn’t move a muscle. She was draped back in her seat, chin up, gazing at the telly through half-closed eyes, with Bingley gazing at her, eyes wide open.

‘Ugh, fat person,’ she murmured as a news reporter came on screen. ‘Stick with radio, woman.’

I looked to the telly, and saw a perfectly gorgeous reporter talking about budget cuts at local schools. Sheesh. Jazz had body-image issues, clearly.

Forest set out the collection of chairs as Bludgeon’s carload flooded in, talking and joking and helping themselves to pizza.

‘Alex,’ I hissed. ‘Did you get my text?’

‘Later,’ she said, out of the corner of her mouth.

Someone put the ice cream in the freezer and I got up to pour more drinks. Jazz ignored everyone except Jack, passing the occasional witticism to him as he walked by, and he’d chuckle back, still keeping an eye on the telly.

‘And after the break,’ announced Jon Snow, ‘we have the news where you are. In the south
more
breaking news from the historic town of Hambledon – who would have thought? – and up north . . .’

Forest flung himself back in the desk chair and it scooted a metre or so across the living-room carpet. Blue giggled. Forest opened his arms, and Mum gaped as Blue climbed up to sit with him in the chair. ‘Well, I never,’ she muttered, settling herself into the sofa.

‘Lula, move your lardy ass,’ said Pen clearly. ‘There’s absolutely no room for me to breathe and Angus still needs to sit here next to me.’

Jazz laughed softly.

Pen’s eyes darted from her to me to Jack. ‘Oh boy,’ she said, and whispered in my ear, ‘The path of true love never did run smooth.’

‘Tell me about it,’ I murmured in reply, watching as Jack
tried to sit on the little swivel stool without falling off. He looked across at me and winked, shrugging his shoulders with a wry smile.

Somehow Fat Angus got on the couch, and Bludgeon too, so I peeled myself out to sit on the floor, and cunningly scooched over next to Jack. He got off the stool straight away and we sat together on the floor, fingers linked, looking up at the telly. Alex braved the stool and Carrie, Tam and Mr K perched on the dining chairs behind. Sixteen people all rammed into the living area, but it was completely silent as Jack’s segment came on.

It was brilliant.

So, okay, I’m biased, but I’ve not seen a news item that packed so much atmosphere, tension and story into one punch, and it was beautifully done. The final frame had Jack looking seriously into the camera and I wondered if every girl’s heart thundered as mine did.

‘This is Jack de Souza, reporting from the town of Hambledon for Channel 4 News.’

I squeezed his hand hard, and kissed him on the lips, even though Mum was right there. ‘Wow,’ I said to him.

His face lit up. ‘It was okay?’ he asked.

Jazz got out of her chair and said, ‘It was good, Jack. We make a great team.’ She came over and smiled down at him, a lazy, sexy smile that smouldered from ear to ear.

Jack grinned happily back at her and said, ‘Hopefully
that’s not the end of it.’ He jumped to his feet, pulling me with him. ‘I can get stuck in to a piece on Emily Saunders tomorrow,’ he said, and hugged me close. ‘I spoke with the producer earlier.’ I caught Alex’s eye over Jack’s shoulder and she raised her eyebrows and flicked a look over at Jazz. Carrie and Tam had the same expression on their faces.

Jack and I pulled apart and Jazz went in for a hug of her own. She rubbed his back in long, slow movements.

I moved away to step into a circle with my friends, who were all watching Jazz in horror. ‘Have you
ever
?’ I asked. ‘Let’s hope this isn’t going anywhere ugly.’

‘Could be the micro-management needs to move into macro-management,’ said Alex.

‘Could be,’ agreed Tam.

‘Thank goodness we’re here this time,’ said Carrie, ‘instead of stuck in London. He has no idea, does he, Tatty?’

‘No idea at all,’ I murmured. ‘And the worst is – they
live
together!’

‘No!’ said Tam.

‘I want to see her room,’ said Alex with grim determination. ‘We’ll need all the intel we can get.’

‘She’s a dangerous woman and she must be stopped,’ said Tam.

A dark shadow loomed over us.

‘Eek!’ said Carrie.

‘Who you calling “freak”?’ asked Forest amiably. Blue
was at his side, holding his hand and begging for another ride on the twirly chair.

‘Freak? No, no,’ said Carrie, looking terribly nervous. ‘Not – not me.’

‘Just kidding,’ said Forest. ‘I have that effect on women.’ He laughed a little.

‘Oh,’ said Carrie. ‘Yes.’

I was startled. Carrie – cool, calm sophisticate – looked a little smitten. She flicked her chestnut hair over her shoulder and stood straighter.

‘Forest is our
friend
,’ I said clearly.

‘Yes,’ said Blue. ‘He’s getting me pizza. We’re weally hungly.’

Forest smiled down at her, then looked at Carrie, Tam and Alex. ‘You
need
a friend with that devil woman Jazz around,’ he said. ‘She’s been after your mate’s man forever. Now that there’s finally real news in Hambledon, she’s got an in at last. Those two have been working long hours together.’ He shot me a look, hoisting Blue to a hip, and I went hot and prickly with a flash of irritability at everyone implying that Jack would be dumping me any second for someone older, hotter and altogether more desirable.

‘Jack is totally into Lula, though,’ said Alex through a mouthful of Pepperoni Special. ‘Jazz hasn’t got a chance.’

‘Sure,’ agreed Forest breezily. He looked at me again and winked. ‘Right, Bluebird, ham no mushroom?’ He
shambled off to the kitchen counter, with Blue ordering him around, and they began putting oddments of pizza slices on to an enormous plate.

‘Wow,’ said Carrie, gazing after him.

‘Don’t even,’ I said, giving her my look.

‘No getting involved!’ commanded Alex.

‘Geez!’ Carrie hissed. ‘I’m only
admiring
him! And you’re a fine one to talk, Alex Thompson. You spent the weekend kissing Gavin Healey! He’s suspect number one in the missing Emily Saunders case! What do you have to say about
that
, hmm?’

Alex’s forehead went all creasy and complicated. ‘Gavin is sooo not a suspect,’ she whispered back. ‘He was syphoning the Cleo Cosmetics stuff into drums out at their factory all weekend! He has, like, a thousand alibis!’

‘Oh,’ said Carrie. ‘Sorry. I didn’t know.’

‘Yes! Well!’ said Alex, very high up on a very high horse. ‘Forest is another matter entirely. We could need him in our Jack Loving Lula campaign, and we don’t want him all angry at being heartbroken by you, or loved up and unfocused.’

‘Hey, I –’ began Carrie, outraged.

‘Besides,’ I added, ‘he’s a lovely guy, but he’d drive you nuts. He lost the key to the front door before they even moved in.’

‘But it’s hanging on the side right there,’ said Carrie.

We all turned to look.

She was right. There was a key hanging on the side of the door. ‘Whoa,’ I said. ‘Maybe you’d make a great couple.’

Carrie flicked her eyebrows up, like,
well, yeah, maybe
.

‘He
is
seriously hot,’ mused Tam. ‘Like, seeeriously. And obviously good with kids.’

‘
Kids?
’ hissed Alex. ‘Tam! Would you listen to yourself? Geez! Come with me NOW. We have work to do.’ She grabbed Tam, and dragged her off to take a look at Jazz’s room. I’d had enough industrial espionage in the last few weeks to last me a lifetime, so Carrie and I kept an eye on Jazz. She was standing possessively at Jack’s side while people thronged around him. Every now and again she tried to lay her head on his shoulder, but she was too beautifully petite and he too rangily tall. Even so, they looked good together. Very good.

‘I think I need a Malteser,’ I said faintly. ‘Maybe bag of.’

‘Bag of nothing,’ said Carrie firmly. ‘You’re far more gorgeous than she is. That long snaky hair gives me the creeps, and those mean, squinty eyes . . . Why does Jack let her hang around like this?’

‘Look at her stomach,’ I groaned. ‘That belly button. Totally perfect.’

‘Like I said,’ sighed Carrie. ‘Stop with the Maltesers. Yours is totally perfect too, but it won’t be if you don’t kick that chocolate habit.’

Suddenly Pen broke from the crowd. ‘Mum wants to get going, Lula. Let’s leave before that Jazz cow gets to make any stupid comments about little girls’ bedtimes.’

I nodded. Good thinking from Pen, though it hurt that I’d not had any boyfriend/girlfriend time with Jack. Checking around for my schoolbag I spied Alex suddenly appear on the far side of the living room. Her eyes darted left and right and she had a slight stoop to her walk. Geez. Could she look more like she’d just ransacked a person’s room? I beckoned madly, praying that Jazz wouldn’t see her, and Alex scampered guiltily over to us.

Tam approached like a normal person, shaking her head at Alex.

‘Well?’ asked Carrie.

‘You don’t want to know,’ said Tam. ‘Only that Alex needs to brush up on her spy skills if she’s going to make it in the real journo world.’

‘Not true!’ cried Alex.

‘You didn’t even see the sheer undies!’ hissed Tam. ‘Or the’ – she dropped her voice, looking at us each in turn with a
you’re not gonna believe it
face – ‘other accessories.’

‘Other accessories?’ I squeaked in panic.

Alex flapped her hand hastily. ‘Don’t scare her,’ she said to Tam.

‘Accessories?’ I whispered again, my hand on my pounding chest. ‘
Accessories?
’

‘Stop saying that,’ said Carrie to me. ‘Specifics,’ she said to Alex. ‘We need helpful specifics.’

‘Beautiful room. Ready for luuurve action,’ said Alex in a despondent voice.

‘Like, totally,’ agreed Tam. ‘You’re going to need chocolate, Lula. You know, to get through this.’

‘Frik,’ I said.

‘She doesn’t need chocolate,’ said Carrie.

‘What’s ready for luuurve action?’ asked Pen. ‘What room? What do you mean
accessories
?’

‘Never you mind, Penelope,’ I said. ‘Let’s tear Blue away. We need to get going.’

‘Can we get a lift?’ asked Tam.

‘No probs,’ I said, and sighed in the direction of Jack. There was no way I could get near him now.

‘He’s a bit tied up. You can have a loving farewell another time,’ said Carrie, guessing my thoughts.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Is it rude to go without saying goodbye?’

‘Well, you haven’t even said hello yet,’ said Mr Kadinski, appearing in front of me. He looked over at Alex. ‘I haven’t had a response from the police about the note, so you’ve got to stop leaving me messages, Ms Thompson.’

‘Oh!’ said Alex, disappointed.

‘What note?’ said Tam. ‘How come no one is telling me anything any more? What’s going on now?’

‘Oh, I’ve decided it’s nothing,’ I said. ‘Some joker left
a note saying “The birds will die” in our postbox this morning.’

‘But that’s not a joke! You
are
the birds!’ squeaked Tam. ‘Tallulah Bird, Blue Bird, Pen –’

Mr K held up a hand and Tam stumbled to a stop. ‘But there’s also bird flu hitting the country everywhere. Maybe it’s to do with that . . .’

‘Oooh, you’re good,’ said Alex. ‘Superagent brain extraordinaire.’

‘Well,’ he said, ‘I’m retired you know. Don’t want to be doing superagent stuff any more. Ohh . . .’ He trailed off, looking at the telly. Then, ‘Jack!’ he called. ‘Turn it up, could you?’

People quietened down as a local reporter came into view at our very own Frey’s Dam. Behind her were the figures of Hambledon’s police force, who seemed to be hanging around, rather than collecting evidence or arresting people. What was this all about?

‘. . . and police are refusing to comment,’ she said, her voice echoing around Jack’s living room, ‘about the disappearance of Emily Saunders. This was the meeting spot, apparently, between the seventeen-year-old and her nineteen-year-old boyfriend, who cannot be named at this time. But the boyfriend denies ever coming up here and it seems this area is not yielding any evidence. We’ve not seen anything bagged or tagged today, and a local
resident who lives very near to here cannot be found for questioning.’

‘Who would that be?’ wondered Mum. ‘Do they mean Parcel Brewster? They can’t mean Parcel Brewster . . .’