Worry Magic (6 page)

The evening went off OK – everyone seemed too tired even to pick a fight for once.

And Dad got Henners out for a play, which always put him in a better mood.

Once the pretty weather girl came on the telly, and I watched Dad hard from behind my hair. But he didn't even look at her that time – he only had eyes for Henners.

Well, if I'd worried right and Dad really did have a girlfriend, she'd never beat Henners  …  so bad luck to horrid her.

Next morning Dad went off to do his Sunday garden job.

I knew Mum had arranged for Derek to come straight round. So maybe – just maybe – Derek would be all poodled and gone by the time Dad got back.

I stayed in my room, worrying and plaiting and re-plaiting my hair until the doorbell went. I heard voices and when the front door closed, I ran down, catching Mum up in the kitchen on her way towards the garden. She had a small, white, fluffy dog on a lead.

‘Oh this is Derek, Courts, isn't he a cutie?' said Mum.

Derek took one look at me, and started snarling so much that Mum had to use all her weedy muscles to drag him off me.

Yeah, what a cutie. Apart from his face full of gnashing teeth. And his bad-lad attitude.

My heart sank. I didn't think Derek was going to be easy to poodle.

I followed them out. It was cold and misty. Hardly dog-bubble-bath weather.

‘Yeah, so Derek is Janet's new rescue dog – our first customer,' said Mum brightly over the racket, still pretending he was a normal dog. ‘I'm sure he'll settle down in a mo – and then we can start on his fur cut and bath.' She nodded her head towards an old plastic baby bath filled with water in the middle of the lawn.

What?! Did Mum seriously reckon she was going to bath him in that? Without losing some fingers or maybe her entire life? And I didn't like that ‘we'  … 

Mum was just cooing down at Derek about how he was going to look gorgeous, when he suddenly flew into the air, barking like crazy at a pigeon. He yanked so hard on his lead that it pulled completely out of Mum's hand and he legged it off across the lawn.

‘Oh, the little tyke!' cried Mum.

He circled the garden, his lead trailing behind him, and came pelting towards us, growling and slobbering.

‘Here, Derek! Good boy,' sang Mum. She bent down and tried to grab him. But he snapped at her, swerved and scarpered, using the bathtub as a sort of mini roundabout.

‘Derek! SIT! HEEL!' Mum ordered.

But Derek just did another
ha-ha-can't-catch-me!
lap of the garden, ran onto Dad's veg plot and started doing loads of speedy little wees on everything. It was like he was trying to cock his leg on every
single
vegetable. How did his tummy have room for so much wee?

Then he finished off with a great big poo right on top of a cabbage.

Ewww! Thank goodness Dad wasn't here to see THAT  … 

I stood chewing my nails and watched Mum chase Derek off the veg. She pulled a bag out of her pocket, and put the whole cabbage and poo in it, wrinkling up her nose.

The she got back to trying to rugby-tackle Derek. He was SO winning. It was like watching one of those falling-over-a-banana-skin, pie-in-your-face comedy shows on telly. But I couldn't laugh cos my eyes kept darting up at the dark clouds.

I'd forgotten to worry about RAIN. Dad
should
be at work all morning but if it looked like it was going to tip down, he might just knock off early. Oh pleeeease don't come back yet, Dad. It looked like Derek was going to be a
very
long job.

‘Blimey, he's fast,' sighed Mum, stopping to catch her breath, holding her knees. ‘Can you just give us a hand, Courts?' she puffed, as Derek blasted past again, growling doggy swear words. ‘And when we've got him, could you help me dunk him in the bath  …  and then hold him on the garden table while I give him a quick trim? That be OK?'

I just looked at her, speechless. Was she mad? Did she want her only daughter to become an actual dog's dinner?'

‘I know it's tricky, but we've got to try,' she breathed. ‘I promised Janet I'd give him a jolly good wash at the very least  …  because honestly, he really,
really
smells.'

Smells. Bites. Poos  …  Yay for Derek. Double yay that Derek was at our house. Good one, Mum.

And then the rain started.

I pulled my coat round me, and watched Derek cock his leg and wee into his own bath, and then do some proud backwards kicks.

The rain was getting heavier.

Mum was still warbling on – ‘You just have to try and understand him. Poor Derek's had such a bad time. So many owners have brought him back to the sanctuary.' She shook her head like it was hard to believe. ‘Janet kindly offered to give him a fresh start, but she'll be so worried if she finds out he's been naughty for me too.'

NAUGHTY?! Derek was a gremlin in a cute dog costume.

‘Oh no – look what's he doing
now!'
I cried, pointing. ‘Derek – NO!'

He was digging a hole under the fence, sending a huge spray of dirt over all Dad's kale. I ran and dived at him, but he scrambled away from me. He sort of bounced off the fence, and belted off like a snooker ball in a straight line towards  … 

OH NO  … 

I suddenly realised what he was aiming for.

Dad's precious Shed!

With its comfy chair, radio, neat boxes of seeds and tools.

The door was wide open  … 

I flew into a sprint, the rain pelting in my face.

Why had Mum even gone in there? No one was supposed to.

Maybe she'd borrowed Dad's scissors? But why hadn't she shut the stupid door?!

My shoes kept skidding on the damp grass, but me and Derek were neck and neck. He was eyeballing me and slavering at the mouth as he raced me.

He beat me by a nose, and screeched to a stop, his leg already cocked.

I grabbed hold of him by the scruff, but wee just spouted out of him  …  onto Dad's tool bag  …  chair cushion  …  open packet of flapjacks  … 

UGH!

Derek was all foam and teeth. I dropped him and pushed him out of the shed with a broom, and he hurtled away.

I turned round. And my heart grew in my chest and then pinged back to its normal size.

Dad.

Standing by the gate.

And I could tell from his face that he'd seen the whole Weeing-in-the-Shed show, every lovely moment of it.

Suddenly the energy ran out of me and my legs felt weird and jellyish. I caught hold of the shed door as I wobbled on my feet.

Dad was stalking across the lawn to Mum, pointing at his shed.

‘DONNA!' he barked. ‘How COULD you  …  ?'

Mum gabbled some words about dog-clipping and money. But Dad was gripping his bald head so hard he was making white marks.

‘No, no, NO! That dog just PEED in my shed! On my flapjacks.' Dad's voice was squeaking with not-believing-it. ‘Why was the door even open?!'

My heart was doing back flips.

Dad would just storm off again now!

And stay out.
Somewhere  … 

And he didn't even KNOW about the junk ice-cream van yet.

My head spun and my eyes went shadowy.

I tipped forward on my feet, nearly stumbling over. So I crouched down, panting.

Ooh, giddy  … 

I toppled and sank down  …  down  …  down onto the damp leaves.

Musty, soggy  …  wet soaking into my jeans  …  rain drumming on my back.

I thumped flat down on the ground. Out cold.

The worry dream was a whizzy one. It charged through my head, but I still caught some pictures  …  Mrs Carter at our door, collecting a yapping Derek. Mum holding a yellow spray bottle. And Dad cooking his famous yummy pancakes.

I woke up, shivering, and sat up. Some leaves had stuck to my cheek so I plucked them off, my ears ringing with Derek still barking, barking, barking his bonce off.

Dad pulled me to my feet.

‘There you go now, Courts,' Dad said. ‘You're all right now.'

I could see Mum hauling Derek by his lead over to the garage. She shoved him in and tugged the door closed quickly behind him. Then she literally ran over to us, peering at me, all white again.

‘Oh, Courts, are you OK?' she said, brushing more leaves out of my hair. ‘Oh dear, oh no – it happened again!'

‘Back to the doctor, I think, if this panic thing goes on much longer,' said Dad. And Mum nodded.

‘Oh no!' I said. ‘I'm really fine  … '

But they weren't listening. They were too busy whisking me indoors, holding me up either side as if I might just slip through a crack in the ground.

They fussed me onto the sofa. Then I just lay back and watched my worry dream come true before my eyes again. It was the best thing ever, as usual – like being at the cinema. All I needed was some popcorn.

First, Mum rang Mrs Carter, and before long, she turned up at our door. Mum got Derek from the garage, and Mrs Carter led him away, still dirty and fluffy and still doing his nut barking.

Hooray! Magic – 1; Derek – nil.

Then Mum came over to me, tucked me under her blanket, and said she was just nipping out to the Shed to clean it. I nodded because of course, I knew this was going to happen already. And I knew which cleaning spray she would use too – the yellow one under the sink, just like in my dream.

Next Dad popped his head round the lounge door.

‘Hungry, Courts? Because guess what I'm making for a special treat?!' He waggled his eyebrows at me.

‘Pancakes!' I said.

He pulled a surprised face. ‘Hey, I'm impressed! How'd you guess?'

‘Oh, I dunno – I must have dreamt it!' I said. Ha, Dad would think I was joking, but 'course I wasn't. Not one bit.

He winked at me and went off to the kitchen.

I grinned to myself. ‘Yummy – thanks, Dad,' I called after him.

Ahh, magic – you did it again! You fixed
everything, a
nd you got me pancakes – my favouritest things ever.

The only bad thing was Dad talking about the doctor again. There was nothing wrong with me! In fact, there was a whole LOT
right
with me. My worry magic was the coolest – I didn't want to be cured, no way. Not that Dr Plop would have any get-rid-of-magic pills, but I still didn't want to deal with any more of his meddling.

I pulled a blanket over myself, scowling about Dr Plop, when suddenly something zipped into my head  …  The next day was Lois's birthday! I needed to sort out her pressie! But with all this stuff going on, I'd nearly forgotten. How
could
I?

I went up to my room and pulled some wrapping paper out of my drawer.

I'd got Lois a giant pack of gummy bears. They were her favourite sweets after Flumps, and I'd always got her a bag since Infants.

But now, when I looked down at the packet, I wasn't so sure any more. Maybe it was way too primary-school-ish as a present. I wasn't twelve until May, so Lois was older than me by quite a few months. Maybe she'd prefer something a bit older  … 

I made a face at the gummy bears, but they'd have to do – I didn't have anything else.

I wrapped the bears up, and put them in my school bag.

Everyone was crowding around Lois before first lesson the next day.

I wriggled in close to her and handed her my present.

‘Happy birthday! I hope it's not too babyish now you're twelve!' I whispered.

She hugged me, feeling the parcel and giggling. ‘No way – gummy bears forever and ever!'

But then Bex arrived – and made this big entrance, of course.

‘BIRTHDAY GIRL!' she shrieked. She barged her way through to Lois, so I got pushed out to the outside of the group. Then she pulled a present out from behind her back – like,
ta-daaah!

It was wrapped up all glam, with a big purple bow.

‘Oh wow – thanks!' said Lois, looking a bit stunned.

Inside was this bracelet in its own velvet box.

Proper posh. And not at all babyish.

‘That's SO gorgy!' said Martha B.

And Lois was all wow-thanks, wow-thanks over and over again.

It was SO annoying.

‘Yeah, it's designer,' said Bex. Pah, she reckoned!

I was glad when Lois finally put the dumb bracelet away and showed us the wicked new phone she'd got for her birthday. She played us different ringtones, keeping an eye out for Miss Cave. All the teachers were really bossy about phones in our school – but Miss Cave was our tutor as well as our English teacher, and was extra strict with us about EVERYTHING. And quite scary. Which is why everyone called her Cave Woman, even though she was old and small, and often wore pink.

‘Hey, listen to my text alert – it's my big bro thinking he's funny!' Lois held the phone up, and we could hear Max
quack-quack-quack
ing.

We all sniggered. Funny old Max.

‘Can I have a look?' I asked, and Lois handed me her phone. It was posh – nicer than mine by miles.

‘Hey, birthday piccie of us two,' I said. Lois put her head next to mine and we grinned. But when we looked at the picture, only Lois laughed. Because there just above us was Bex's stupid face, sticking out her tongue  …  she'd totally photobombed us! I couldn't even be in a photo by myself with Lois without Bex muscling in!

‘Oh, let me take one of
me
and the birthday girl now,' said Bex, reaching to snatch the phone.

‘I haven't finished looking yet,' I said, turning away from her.

Bex gave me a sharp look – we'd both totally given up pretending to be even a bit friends.

‘Quiet please, Year Seven. Line up by the door.' Cave Woman had arrived.

I stuffed Lois's phone into her bag, and we all scuffled in.

Cave Woman had one of those pointless boy-girl seating plans. Lois was down the front next to pain-in-the-butt Kai Brown. I was at the back next to Toby G, who ground his teeth and sniffed all lesson. And – worse luck – Bex was right in front of me next to sweaty Aaron. English was such fun  … 

But we were doing creative writing – my favourite. And we were supposed to be working quietly by ourselves. But Bex kept whispering to Aaron, and she was getting away with it too, because Cave Woman was actually quite deaf. Her cave-woman ears were probably too full of fur.

Bex was showing off to Aaron. Her top hobby.

‘I'm probs going to see a 15 film later,' she said. ‘You know, that new one with Rupert Grint in it.'

Her whisper was so loud I could hear every word, but Aaron wasn't even listening – I could see his pen going across his page.

‘I always get into 15s, easy  …  I just tell them my sister's birthday and they believe me  … '

Fair play to her – she had a talent for ridiculous boasting.

She twirled her hair round her pen. ‘Yeah, maybe I'll ask Lois to come with me after school  … '

WHAT?!

I wanted to see Lois after school! We always did something together on our birthdays. Bex could get lost! She was bang out of order  …  as usual.

I shot a glance at Cave Woman. She was typing on her laptop, not looking my way.

I sneaked my phone out of my bag.

I would never do something like this usually – I was always too worried about getting in trouble. But this was an emergency!

I held my phone under the table and wrote a speedy text to Lois, peeping up at Cave Woman at every other word. If she saw me, my life would be over. She would feed me to her pet tyrannosaurus.

SEE YOU STR8 AFTER SCH, LO-LO? JUST U AND ME 4 B'DAY STUFF? OR A SWIM?xx

I looked over at Lois before I sent it. She was head-down, working away, but I hoped she'd sneak a peek at her new phone before the end of the lesson.

I hit SEND  … 

Ha, good! I'd beaten Bex to it. Get in there, Courtney!

QUACK-QUACK.

QUACK-QUACK.

Everyone looked around, like –
what?

But I froze, holding my breath  …  because I knew immediately what the noise was. Lois's new phone, quacking to the world that she had a text.

A text from me.

In a lesson.

Oh no, why wasn't her phone on silent like it usually was? No one left their phone on loud at school!

I felt my whole face burn up.

Cave Woman was looking coolly along the front row. She was deaf, but not that deaf.

‘Was that you, Kai?'

But Kai just swung round, and pointed at Lois. ‘Her phone  …  in her bag.'

What a grossoid! He was always dobbing people in like that.

Cave Woman held out her hand to Lois.

Lois stood up. I could just see the side of her face – she'd gone bright red. She pulled her phone out of her bag, glanced down quickly at the screen, and then handed it over.

‘You know the rules – confiscated until tomorrow, and a letter home to your parents,' Cave Woman said, briskly. ‘Now back to it, everyone. I want at least a page from all of you by the end of the lesson.'

She looked back at her work.

Everyone went silent then, scribbling like mad.

I could see by the way Lois was sitting that she was upset. And she'd obviously seen the text was from me. I wished she'd turn around, so I could say sorry, but she didn't.

Of course Bex missed none of this. She took one look at my face and leant back in her seat.

‘I reckon that text was from you, Courtney, wasn't it?' she hissed. ‘Well done. That's Lois's new phone gone. She'll be so angry with you.'

She was right!

I was trying not to panic, but I could feel my face flushing. Oh, what could I do?

I'd have to confess at least  … 

I stuck my hand up.

‘Miss Cave! It's not Lois's fault that her phone  … '

‘Hand down, Courtney, please.'

‘But, miss  … '

‘No one should have their phone on in a lesson, and that's it. Now please get on with your work.'

I could see it was hopeless – she had one of those firm looks on her face, so I shut up.

I hoped Lois would turn round and smile at me for trying, but she was too busy dabbing her eyes with her sleeves.

Oh no  …  now she wouldn't have her new phone for her birthday evening.

Because of me  … 

She'd be so fed up. And then she probably WOULD go to the film with Bex.

I was feeling even hotter now. I held my face in my hands, trying to gulp back my tears. I felt all weak, like I could hardly stay in my chair.

My brain was gummed up, on go-slow  …  And then finally I twigged  …  the worry magic was coming! Coming to help me dream-fix this mess.

The wooziness rolled over me in big waves. I laid my head down on my table  …  and went out like a light.

In Cave Woman's lesson.