The Real Rebecca (16 page)

‘Well, you should have,’ I said. ‘I could have told you it would be weird, if you’d bothered to tell me and Rachel about the book.’

‘Yeah,’ said Rachel, wandering in to the kitchen and grabbing an apple from the bowl on the counter. ‘I can’t believe you didn’t realise how embarrassing this was going to be for us.’

‘I know, and I’m sorry,’ said Mum. ‘But Vanessa’s not that bad, is she? I mean, she’s not bullying you or anything?’

‘No one’s bullying me,’ I said. ‘Even stupid Karen. They’re just being annoying.’

Mum looked relieved. ‘Well, that isn’t good, but it’s
not the end of the world either, right?’

‘Huh,’ I said. ‘Easy for you to say.’

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Listen, I’ve learned over the last few weeks that it’s better if I let you know in advance about anything to do with the new book. So I thought I should tell you that there’s going to be an interview with me in a magazine that’s out on Thursday. I’d have told you earlier, but I didn’t know they were definitely going to run it until today. Don’t worry,’ she said, as Rachel and I opened our mouths to say something, ‘there are no photos of you. In fact, I barely mentioned you at all. But bear in mind that I did the interview before the book came out so I didn’t realise how upset you were going to be about being connected with it.’

Oh God. What does this mean? Please say she didn’t use the word ‘antics’ again.

WEDNESDAY

I have been trying to avoid Vanessa since we discovered her nefarious plan, but that’s easier said than done when
you’re in the same class. She keeps on trying to be nice to me and I’ve been ignoring her. And then today at lunch she lost her temper.

‘Look,’ she said. ‘I don’t see what the problem is. You get to help me be on telly, and then you get to go to my party. What’s not good about that?’

‘Vanessa,’ I said, ‘I dunno how to say this without sounding really rude … but we’re not actually friends. You’ve barely spoken to me for the last year. And now you’re using me to try and get on telly. Why would I want to go to your party?’

‘Because the party will be amazing and you’ll get to be on ‘My Big Birthday Bash’, of course,’ said Vanessa, in a way that suggested this was everyone’s dream come true.

‘It’s not my sort of party,’ I said, as if I’d been to loads of huge extravaganzas and knew exactly which ones I liked. ‘Like I said, I don’t want to be rude, but I’m not going to the party. I’m sure they’ll let you on the programme anyway. Just tell them about the tank.’

‘They know about that,’ she said. ‘It was in my application. I need something to surprise them.’

‘Well, you’re not getting me,’ I said.

‘Just think about it,’ said Vanessa. And she went off before I could say anything else.

‘That was kind of amazing,’ said Cass. ‘I wonder will she ever accept reality?’

‘I think she’s so used to her parents saying “yes” all the time that she actually doesn’t understand when anyone says “no”,’ said Alice.

It truly is a wonder. I’m almost jealous of her. The world has got to be a nicer place if you actually don’t notice anything negative. Although surely Vanessa can’t keep this up forever. I mean, she’s going to have to notice when she’s having her birthday party and I’m not there.

Actually, who will be there? She doesn’t really have any friends in school, apart from Caroline, not that that seems to bother her. She barely talks to anyone anyway. Maybe she has lots of rich friends none of us know about.

THURSDAY

School was okay today. Karen Rodgers wasn’t in, so there were no snide remarks about Wildfire, and Vanessa didn’t
do anything but give me meaningful looks and nods, as though we were members of the same secret cult. However, I amfairly sure that will all change as soon as someone in the class gets hold of the magazine that appeared today. I have now seen it and, although there are no photographs of me and Rachel, Mum says things like, ‘I’d never have written this book if it weren’t for my two girls,’ and ‘They’re an inspiration to me – even if they don’t know it.’ There’s also a huge photo ofMumsitting at a table covered in cakes in a fancy hotel, and I bet that will really convince Vanessa that Mum is rich and famous, which is the last thing I need.

FRIDAY

Everyone knows about the gig! It was stupid Ellie’s fault. I’m half tempted to tell everyone her name is really Galadriel. She deserves it. Our class was sitting around at lunchtime chatting in a big group (I was feeling quite nervous in case Karen Rodgers suddenly produced a copy of that magazine but no one seems to have seen it yet, thank GOD). Emma was telling us about the awful bridesmaid
dress she’s getting for her big sister’s wedding.

‘I can’t even sit properly in it,’ she said. ‘It’s like a cage. It’s got metal bits in it to hold it up. And it’s meant to, like, push my chest up, but there’s not really enough to push so it just looks weird.’

‘Speaking of weird dresses,’ said Ellie, ‘what are you three wearing to the Battle of the Bands next week?’

Cass, Alice and I all froze and stared at her.

‘What battle of the bands?’ said Jessie.

‘Oops,’ said Ellie, looking guilty. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s nothing,’ said Cass.

‘Yeah, we’re not even sure whether we’re doing it or not,’ said Alice.

‘Come on, tell us!’ said Jessie. ‘Are you playing a concert, then? Where is it on?’

And then everyone kept asking about it and in the end we cracked and told them it was next week. It’s not like they wouldn’t have been able to find out anyway. So now it seems like the entire class are going to be there. Including, of course, my number one fan, who emerged from behind the lockers when I was on my way to the first class after lunch.

‘I can’t wait for your concert,’ said Vanessa.

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘Um, you know I’m still not going to your party, right?’

‘We’ll talk about that later,’ she said, in a very grown-up way. ‘I’ve got loads to do.’

As she turned to go, she took out her fancy phone and started to make a call.

‘Hi, Robbie?’ she said, sounding about thirty-five. ‘Vanessa Finn here. Yeah, that’s right.’ Then she wandered off. I wish I could afford to make random phone calls during school hours, although now I come to think of it, who would I ring besides my parents? All my friends are in school too.

On the plus side, I did see Paperboy tonight. But only for a second. After last week’s early visit I was on high alert practically from the moment I got home. I didn’t even go upstairs for some drumming practice, even though I wanted to. And then, in the end, he just called at his usual time. I still feel all nervous and fluttery whenever I answer the door to him.

‘Hey,’ he said.

‘Hey,’ I said. I wish I could think of something amazing and funny to say to him every week. I try and think of
things in advance, but nothing ever really comes to mind. Maybe there just aren’t that many amazing, funny ways to greet someone who’s just called to your house to collect newspaper money.

‘So,’ said Paperboy. ‘Are you definitely going in for the Battle of the Bands?’

‘Oh, yeah,’ I said. ‘Thanks for telling me about it.’

‘No worries,’ he said. ‘Like I said, it should be a good laugh. Not that people will be laughing at you, obviously.’

‘Well, I hope not,’ I said.

‘They might be laughing at Johnny’s band, though,’ said Paperboy. ‘They’ve been, um, experimenting with hip hop recently. Results are mixed. Anyway, I hate to ask, but can I get some money from you?’

‘Oh, sure,’ I said, and ran back into the kitchen to get it. Mum gave me what I can only describe as a patronising grimace, but which I’m sure she thought was a wise smile.

‘Paper money?’ she said, holding out the coins. I took it off her and said nothing. I just glowered and stomped off. I’ve got very good at glowering at her in recent weeks.

Paperboy received his tribute.

‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘And good luck! Your drumming
sounded great last week, by the way.’

And he strolled off before I could say anything.

I didn’t bother ringing Alice or Cass to analyse everything. I just lay on my bed and thought about it. I wonder what I used to think about before I had Paperboy and the band to occupy me? I seem to think about them more than almost everything else these days. Well, apart from Mum’s constant attempts to humiliate me. And global warming. And Vanessa.

Hmmm. I suppose I do think about a lot of things. But most of them seem to be kind of awful.

SATURDAY

Today we went shopping for clothes to wear on stage. Our parents have acknowledged that our very first gig is a special occasion and gave us each some cash, which sounds brilliant, except for the fact that we kept fighting over what to wear. Cass is still obsessed with our stage show.

‘We need to look like a band,’ she said when we met on Grafton Street.

‘I think it’s going to be fairly obvious we’re a band,’ said Alice. ‘Seeing as we’ll be standing on a stage holding instruments.’

‘Or sitting behind them,’ I reminded her.

Cass sighed. ‘I mean we’ve got to have a look. A band look.’

‘We’re not wearing matching outfits, Cass,’ I said. ‘We’ll just look like a terrible girl band then.’

‘Yes, the last thing we need is Karen Rodgers calling us Wildfire,’ said Alice.

‘I don’t mean matching outfits,’ said Cass. ‘I mean … we’ve got to look like a team. Like, we can’t just each wear something completely different.’

‘Well, we wear quite similar clothes anyway,’ said Alice, which is true. We do always like the same sort of things. ‘Look, I think we should just wear clothes we like. We’ll look cool then, but not as though we’re trying too hard.’

This was true, of course, but the more I thought about it, though, the more I agreed with Cass. I did like the idea of us looking like a team. Or a gang.

‘Why don’t we all wear, say, dresses? Or all wear jeans and tops and Converse?’ I said. ‘That way we’ll be linked,
fashion-wise, but we won’t all look the same.’

Everyone agreed to this inspired plan. But of course, then we had to decide what our common denominator, as they say in maths, was going to be. Cass thought dresses. Alice thought jeans. I should have been the casting vote, but I couldn’t decide. We ended up practically shrieking at each other in the middle of Exchequer Street. Finally Cass said, ‘Look, how many people do you think are going to be there in jeans? Probably all of them! If we’re in dresses we’ll stand out. And it’s not like we don’t wear dresses and skirts sometimes anyway.’