Suzy P and the Trouble with Three (16 page)

I still
feel like poo when I wake up a few hours later. Lack of sleep hasn’t helped, but it’s mainly because I’m upset about the Millie stuff. Everyone else is up at stupid o’clock too, thanks to Murphy’s howling. For once, it doesn’t bother me.

I feel like howling too.

I’m avoiding Millie and Isabella as much as I can, which isn’t exactly easy, given our cramped living space. And now to top things off, Devon’s coming across the field towards us.

This can’t be about last night, can it? I thought we’d got away with it.

“Uh oh. What’ve we done now?” Dad asks.

Devon shakes his umbrella and ducks inside. “Nothing I’m aware of.”

Phew. Big relief.

“I’ve had a call from the Meadow Park Nursing home,” Devon continues.

Mum gasps and her hand flies up to her mouth. “Aunt Lou! Is everything all right?”

“They asked if you could give them a call,” Devon says. “They did say not to worry, but she’s had a fall. It wasn’t anything too serious…”

“Not too serious!” Mum says. “What does that mean? Thank you for coming, Devon, I’ll ring them right now.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, that woman’s immortal,” Dad mutters, as Mum puts her mac on over her nightie, pulls on her wellies and tramples off at speed across the field.

“Everything all right?” Dad asks, when she returns.

“I’m not sure,” Mum says. “The doctor’s checked her over, but she’s a bit shaken, and apparently she’s asking for us.”

“Well, we’ll be home tomorrow,” Dad says. “We can see her after we get back.”

Mum grimaces. “The nursing home said she was being a bit difficult.”

“Nothing new there,” Dad says.

“Chris!” Mum says. “They said she’s gone on some sort of hunger strike and is refusing to eat until we visit. I think she’s forgotten we’re away on holiday.”

“She hasn’t forgotten,” Dad says. “You know full well Aunt Lou has a memory like an elephant. Don’t be sucked into her mind games. She’s blackmailing you to get her own way.”

“Well, she might be,” Mum says, “but what if she’s not? I’m wondering about going back early, then we can see her tomorrow. I’d really like her to eat something, there’s so little to her as it is… What do you think?”

Dad pauses. He’s torn. Giving in to Aunt Loon versus getting the hell out of this caravan.

“I want to go home,” Amber says. “I really, really want to see Mark. I’ve—”

“Missed him so much,” everyone choruses.

“I don’t want to leave,” Harry protests. “I’m having a great time! And I’m supposed to be seeing Ant today to show him how to do magic.”

“I think we should leave,” Mum says.

“Fine,” Dad says. “We’ll go back. Although the thought of towing the caravan doesn’t fill me with much joy.”

We’re going home.

At last.

Home where I can sleep in a bed. Where the toilet is across the landing, rather than the other side of a soggy field. There is phone reception. There’s food that isn’t charred on the outside but raw in the middle.
I have my own space away from my family and can escape with my boyfriend and my mates.

Although, I’m not so sure about that last one. I have no idea how things are going to be when we get back. I thought I’d be happier to leave, but now everything feels all messed-up.

I start chucking things into my suitcase. Outside, Millie and Isabella are dismantling their tent.

“We should go and say goodbye,” I hear Isabella say.

“Sure,” Millie says, and then appears in the awning.

“We’re going to say goodbye to the boys,” she says. “They’re packing up too. Dave must be taking them back early, after what happened last night. Want to come?”

“Nope,” I say, keeping my eyes firmly on what I’m doing. I’ll say goodbye to Joe by myself later. And thank him again for his help. I’d have been in a whole world of trouble without him.

“Um, Suze, are you okay?” Millie asks.

“Yup,” I reply.

“Okay, then. If you’re sure you don’t want to come. Won’t be long.”

Hello!
I want to shout at the top of my voice. Isn’t it obvious? Of
course
I’m not okay.

Jeez, it’s like she doesn’t care about me at all any more. Just because she’s got a new, glamorous bezzie who buys
her expensive presents.

“I’ll come,” says Harry, pushing past.

“Hey,” I object. “You’re supposed to be helping me deflate the airbeds and sort the bedding.”

“She said we wouldn’t be long. I want to say goodbye to Ant,” Harry says.

I wallow in self-pity until they return.

“Harry got kissed by Ant,” Millie sing-songs.

For a moment I forget I’m in a strop. “You did?” I say, staring at my little sister in amazement. I was right all along – she does have a crush on him!

She refuses to meet my gaze, shuffling her trainers and fiddling with her belt.

“Shut up,” she mumbles.

Oh, this is good. This is too, too good.

Revenge is mine at last. I can dine out on this for weeks.

But then I spot that Harry’s eyes look a little wetter than usual. And I realise that saying goodbye to your first love is probably a pretty big deal.

Aw, rats. Why did I have to notice the tears?

I can’t take the mick out of her when she’s hurting so badly.

“Did you get his email address?” I say.

Harry nods. “Yeah. We’re going to compare notes on Pottermore.”

“And there’s always Skype,” I reassure her. I put my arm around her shoulder and Harry leans into me for a fraction of a second. Then she sniffs loudly and pushes me away.

“Get off me, you loser,” she says.

“I need to get hold of Martin, tell him we’re coming back early,” Clare says to Mum, as they head over to do some washing up.

Millie stares after her. It looks like her bottom lip’s wobbling, and I want to ask her what’s wrong. But then I remember last night and what she did, and bury my head in the suitcase again, concentrating on making sure everything fits.

“Suze, can I talk to you?” Millie says, a short time later, after everything’s pretty much packed. Mum’s crammed the contraband shopping bags into the caravan bathroom, oven, our suitcases and any other space she can find.

“Sure,” I shrug, although I won’t meet her eyes.

“Somewhere a bit more private?”

I huff heavily, but don’t object, instead following Millie a short distance away and watching Dad attempt to manoeuvre the car onto the caravan.

“Um, is something wrong?” Millie asks.

I shrug.

“You’ve been in a weird mood all morning,” Millie says.

“Oh,” I say, fighting to keep my expression blank.

“
And
acting really strangely since last night,” she presses.

I shrug, dismissively. I don’t know what else to do.

“Are you annoyed you had to come and get us? I’m really sorry. You were such a star last night.”

“Are you really not getting this?”

“No!” Millie says. “Tell me what’s the matter.”

“I was supposed to come with you,” I say. “How did you think I’d feel being left behind?”

Millie seems genuinely baffled. “But you didn’t want to come. When I talked to you yesterday you said you didn’t want to risk it.”

“So you thought you’d just go without me?”

“I thought I was doing you a favour,” Millie says. “And… Isabella told me it would be a bad idea.”

“She
what
?”

“It was so late she said you were probably asleep and there was more chance of us getting busted if we came for you. Mum would have gone mental if she’d caught us, so it kind of made sense. I knew you weren’t that bothered, so—”

“So you just went?” I say furiously. “Leaving me out, yet again? Just like you’ve been doing all holiday.”

“What?” Millie looks baffled. “No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have. You’ve been off with Isabella all the
time, with your in-jokes and everything…”

“We haven’t!” Millie protests.

“You have! And apparently I’m not even a good enough friend for you to tell your secrets to any more.” All my anger and upset is bubbling over. “Even though you’ll talk to Isabella, who you’ve known for five minutes. I heard you last night before we found you.”

Millie’s face falls.

“Yeah, that’s right. Anything you’d like to say to my face?”

Millie doesn’t respond.

“Nope, didn’t think so.” I glare at Millie fiercely, hoping it doesn’t give away the churning, sick feeling I’m experiencing. She still doesn’t say anything, so I stalk off towards the car, where Dad’s muttering about all the stuff he’s trying to cram in.

I angrily grab my new bag from the floor, to throw it into the back, but as I do so, the handle snaps off. It’s broken.

Flipping brilliant.

It’s typical that,
after more than a week of rain and grey skies, the sun finally comes out as our car pulls onto the main road, the caravan clattering behind us.

The journey home doesn’t take as long as the one here, although Dad’s still not got the confidence to drive at road speed. He’s convinced the caravan is going to flip and we’re all going to die horribly.

This time, though, he does make it to forty miles per hour.

When we pull up at the house, Mark rushes out to greet us. His reunion with Amber is tear-filled and snotty. Love is a beautiful thing.

I thought I’d be happier to be home. All I’ve wanted to do since we left is come back. But I’m just miserable.
I feel terrible about the fight with Millie.

We’re properly, properly not talking for the first time in our lives.

And I absolutely hate it.

I could try to speak to Danny about everything, but I don’t really know what to say, plus he’s been acting so weirdly since we’ve been gone. I need some time to myself, some head space, to try to figure everything out.

Because I have no idea if Millie’s ever going to talk to me again.

No more Suzy and Millie.

The end of our amazing foursome.

This is all such a big fat mess.

Although I’m still über-miserable at bedtime, I have to admit it’s so good to be sleeping in a proper bed again. I’m rejoicing in the feel of a mattress, rather than a lumpy airbed under my back, although Isabella’s not so lucky. She’s still on the floor on the camp bed. Her suitcases are packed and ready to go, lined up on the landing outside my bedroom door.

We’ve not said a word to each other since we got home.

I’ve given up. She clearly doesn’t like me. She wants my best friend, not me. And she leaves in the morning, so what’s the point making an effort now?

“Night, girls,” Mum says, peering around the edge of the door. “Sleep well. Especially you, Isabella. You must be excited about seeing your mum and your new house.”

Isabella doesn’t answer, but gives a dismissive grunt before rolling onto her side, pulling the duvet over her shoulders.

“Night, Mum,” I say, then lie stiff and rigid, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. I don’t think Isabella’s sleeping yet; her breathing’s still really shallow.

And then she makes a funny noise. Kind of like a choked snort.

Then there’s a strangled, shuddering sniff, and I realise what’s happening.

She’s crying.

Isabella’s actually crying. She’s trying really hard to hide it, but I’m sure that’s what’s going on.

Oh help. Do I say something, even though I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t want to talk to me? Or do I fake sleep?

As she snuffles again, I realise I can’t pretend I’m not hearing her.

“Um, are you okay?”

Isabella doesn’t answer.

“You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to,” I say.

Nobody else wants to,
I add, silently and self-pityingly.

Isabella still doesn’t answer.

This makes no sense. What’s she so miserable about? After spending almost a fortnight with us, I’d have thought she’d be dancing a joyous jig about returning to her luxurious lifestyle.

There’s a super long pause. I’m about to give up on her, when Isabella speaks.

“Everything’s so messed up.”

I’ve got absolutely no idea what’s she’s talking about.

“What’s messed up?” I ask.

“
Everything
. My whole entire life, to be exact.”

What’s she on about? Isabella has the perfect life. She’s rich. She’s beautiful. She has rich, beautiful friends.

I snort. “Yeah, well, try being me, then you’d know what messed up was,” I say. The words are out before I can stop them.

There’s a pause. “You don’t get it, do you?” Isabella says bitterly. “How lucky you are. My mum talks about your family all the time. She never stops going on about your parents, and how in love they are. That they’ve been that way since university. That they’ve got three kids that they adore and blah blah blah.”

“But—” I try to interrupt, but Isabella continues like she’s not heard me.

“You have a best friend. A boyfriend. Friends you’ve
known forever. Your family. A house that you’ve always lived in.”

“Well, yeah,” I say, still not really understanding. “My friends are cool. But my family’s bonkers. And my house isn’t all that. Especially not compared to the amazing places you’ve lived. And you’ve got loads of mates. You’re always texting them.”

“They’re in a completely different country and I have no idea if I’m going to see them again. And it’s not like I have a proper best friend. Not like you have with Millie.”

Like I
had
with Millie.

“I’ve got to start over,” Isabella says. “Nobody will know me in London. Nobody will want to be my friend because they’ll already have friends. Nobody wants to know the new girl. You end up feeling like you don’t fit in anywhere.”

Oh.

“And this keeps happening,” Isabella says, hardly pausing for breath. “Mum gets married and then a few years later she gets divorced and then it all gets repeated. I really liked Luca, and thought she might actually keep him around. But nuh-uh. It sucks. I had a huge fight with Mum before I left when I said I wanted to keep in touch with him. She went mad.”

I bite my lip. That
does
sound rubbish. And here I was
thinking Isabella had it all, because she had designer clothes and big houses and lots of money.

“I didn’t realise…” I say feebly.

“Yeah, well, why would you?” Isabella replies. “You, with your perfect family and your perfect friends.”

I don’t reply.

“Do you realise Millie’s the first person I’ve talked to that’s properly understood how it all feels?”

“I
tried
to talk to you,” I say indignantly. “You didn’t want to know.”

“That’s because you’d made it obvious you didn’t like me,” Isabella says.

“Huh?” I prop myself up on my elbow to peer down at her. “What made you think that?”

“You didn’t want me around,” says Isabella. “I heard you in the kitchen the morning after I arrived. You tried to ditch me with your mum. Just like my mum did, because she didn’t want me hanging about either.”

I’m mortified. Absolutely mortified.

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry you heard that,” I say hastily. “I totally didn’t mean it the way it came out. It was only because Millie and me and Jamie and Danny… we’re a foursome, you know? And it was our last day together, just us, before the holidays. You have to believe me, it was nothing against you. I promise.”

“It felt like nobody wanted me around,” Isabella mutters.

“It wasn’t meant that way, honest,” I say. “I feel awful now. But you weren’t exactly friendly, you know, even before then. When you arrived it was obvious you didn’t want to be here.”

“I didn’t,” Isabella says, matter-of-factly. “But I was also trying not to cry. I’d had that huge fight with Mum, almost got on the wrong train, didn’t know any of you, and got dumped here all by myself.”

“I thought it was because you didn’t like me,” I say. “You seemed really annoyed when I threw that bra on your head. Jeez, I can’t believe this turned into such a big mess. I really am sorry about it all.”

“I believe you,” Isabella says, and at last she seems to be softening. “And I’m terrible for holding grudges, Mum always tells me that. I’m sorry too.”

We lie in silence for a while until Isabella speaks again. “Suzy, can I ask you something? Did you and Millie have a fight?”

“Yeah,” I say.

“Thought so,” Isabella says. “Millie was miserable all the way home. It was obvious something was going on. And you weren’t talking to each other at any of the service stations on the way back. Was it because of me?”

“Um…”

“I’m really sorry if it was. I like Millie so much, and wanted a friend, you know? You didn’t want me around. My mum didn’t want me around. I felt a hassle to your mum who was trying to figure out what to do with me. And I think I might have pushed you out, trying to have Millie all to myself. But I hate seeing Millie so upset, especially with everything else that’s going on with her at the moment.”

“What
is
going on with her at the moment?” I ask.

“I promised her I wouldn’t say.”

“Oh, there you go again with your stupid secrets,” I say, flopping back onto the pillows. “You just said you were sorry you’d been pushing me out.”

“I am,” Isabella says. “But you need to talk to Millie.”

“I tried!” I say in frustration. “She wouldn’t tell me anything. I… I don’t think she wants to be my mate any more.”

“You’re crazy if you think that,” Isabella says. “She’s just kind of confused. Speak to her, okay?”

“Are you sure you can’t tell me what’s going on?” I ask.

“I really can’t. But I’m sure Millie will tell you.”

“I hope you’re right,” I sigh.

“I know I haven’t been entirely fair,” Isabella says. “And I should have said thank you for coming to rescue us from the cave. What you did was amazing. Nobody has ever,
ever
done anything like that for me before.”

“You’re welcome,” I mutter.

“You’re an amazing mate, you know that? I’d… I’d like to be your friend too, Suzy. If you’ll have me.”

Gosh. Talk about a turnaround. Did I hear that right?!

“You’re so funny, and really loyal…” Isabella’s continuing. “Mills has said she’ll come and stay with me, maybe you could come too? It would be great to know I’ve got two friends in the country.”

As I agree, I secretly cross my fingers that me and Millie will have sorted things out by then.

I really, really hope so.