Have a Little Faith Read online

  So all this time Megs has been jealous of Lily.

  How adorable is that?

  Adorable, but also insane and quite annoying. I went after Megs and shouted under the locked toilet door. ‘I love you best! No one can ever take me away from you! I will always love and respect you for the wonderful, intelligent young woman you are. Now come on out, you stupid idiot.’

  She shuffled out the door blubbing and I was forced to hug her.

  ‘Do you really hate Lily?’ I asked.

  Megs wiped her nose on my sleeve. ‘A bit. I’m not happy about her chatting up Cameron.’

  ‘I’m not sure that Lily knows how to chat anyone up. Most of her chatting is about her favourite hats and things she’s learnt from reading cereal packets. I don’t think that’s what boys go for.’

  Megs didn’t seem entirely convinced.

  ‘What about Angharad? Do you hate her too?’

  ‘I tried, but I couldn’t.’

  I could understand that, hating Ang would be like hating a teddy bear.

  ‘Anyway the thing is that you’ve been friends with Lily for a really long time. You’ve known her since primary school,’ Megs sniffed.

  ‘Yes, and I’ve known my granny since I was born, that doesn’t make her my bestie. You’re my best friend, Megan, and you always will be.’

  We gave each other super-soppy smiles.

  And then I put her in a headlock just to reinforce my point.

  Angharad mouse-scuttled up to Megs this morning and tapped her on the shoulder. Megs turned round and Ang cringed backwards.

  ‘Please don’t shout at me,’ she said in a rush, ‘but I wanted you to know that Lily isn’t trying to steal Cameron. I was there when they were talking and Lily only said that you’re nice, well, she said something about talking horses as well, but I didn’t really understand that part and I don’t think Cameron did either. But honestly, Cameron said, “You’re Megan’s friend, aren’t you?” and Lily just said how cool you are. I’m not making it up.’ She was gasping for breath when she finished. Megs looked at me. We both knew that she was telling the truth.

  Megs went a bit pale and said, ‘Thank you for telling me, Angharad.’ Then she slumped against the wall. ‘Oh Faith, I can’t believe how mean and horrible I’ve been to Lily!’

  ‘I know. You’ve been awful. First you were sniffy with her, then you came right out and accused her of stealing your friend and now—’

  ‘Stop it! I know what I’ve done. What am I going to do to make it better?’

  What she did was to buy her own body weight in sweeties and present them to Lily and say, ‘I am very, very sorry. I will never be a jealous cow again.’

  And Lily said, ‘That’s OK.’ Which I thought was extremely nice and understanding of her.

  We all met up at lunchtime, but things were still a bit uncomfortable. I thought that some sort of activity might be less painful than chatting, but being a model student has seriously limited the pastimes that are open to me. However, we all know that there’s nothing more wholesome than exercise. Also, sport is great for teamwork, isn’t it? I thought it might be good for building bridges between Megs and Lily. So I got those two plus Angharad, Zoe and Becky enjoying the healthy and stimulating activity of Sumo wrestling.

  The two competitors put on everyone else’s coats and then tried to bump each other out of the circle I’d drawn. It was very exciting and it definitely cheered everybody up, plus – most importantly – I am brilliant at it. I said to the girls, ‘I think I may have discovered the sport for me.’

  Angharad said, ‘I thought you hated sport.’

  ‘Nonsense. There are a few sports that I prefer not to participate in, but that’s only the ones that involve running, sweating, water or balls.’

  Megs added, ‘Or horses.’

  ‘Or horses,’ I agreed. ‘Other than that, I have long been searching for the sport I would shine at. I always knew I had sporting potential. I used to be worried that my hidden talent was for pole vaulting and that it would remain hidden forever, but now I know that it’s Sumo for me.’

  I can hardly believe that it’s taken me this long to find an activity that combines my skills for dressing up, overeating and violence.

  Miss Ramsbottom was not interested in my Olympic hopes. She just flounced past us on the netball court and said, ‘Must you make such a racket, girls?’

  After that we played Silent Sumo, which was even funnier.

  Why is Miss Ramsbottom such a misery? Why can’t she be more like Mrs Webber? When she saw us Sumo-ing she leant out the window of the staff room and yelled, ‘Knock her legs out from underneath her, Angharad!’

  Hilarious. Our dear old headmistress had a tantrum today.

  Miss Pee is obsessed with everything being in its proper place: bags on pegs, girls in classrooms, PE skirts around waists instead of being worn as a cape, you know, all that sort of OCD nonsense. She is especially particular about her parking space. Absolutely no one else is allowed to park there. Probably because it’s the best parking space in the school grounds. It’s protected from both the rain and bright sun by a lovely shady tree and it’s the only space right outside the main entrance. The other spaces are a good thirty metres away and, to be fair to old Miss Pee, if she had to walk that far her ancient bones would probably crumble to dust.

  Today, it seems she had popped out at lunchtime (I like to imagine that she went to get a Big Mac, but in reality she probably went to WHSmith’s to buy some of those metal rulers so she could ‘accidentally’ slice off a few Year Sevens’ fingers with them) and when she came back to school, the window cleaners’ van was parked in her spot. I was lucky enough to be strolling by with Megs. Actually, we are banned from hanging out at the front of the school ‘making the place look untidy’, but we were on our way back from the corner shop – no one should be expected to sit through double French without the comfort of a few sweeties. It’s a pretty scary language. Do you know that every single noun is a boy or a girl? That’s just making work for yourself. And who decided that a table is masculine? All my granny’s tables are covered in doilies.

  Anyway, Megs and I were skulking through the bushes when we saw Miss Pee and Mr Freeborn, the school caretaker, having a heated discussion. Miss Pee stamped her foot (yes, it was that serious) and was jabbing at the van and raging about the window cleaners’ rudeness in parking in her space. Poor old Mr Freeborn was obviously trying to calm her down, but she growled, ‘This is entirely unacceptable.’ Her pearls were quivering with rage. ‘Move that thing NOW!’

  I’m afraid I missed the end of their conversation because Megs pointed out that I was going to miss singing the birthday song in French.

  During French I asked Lily how she was getting on with Megs. She said, ‘Fine.’ As if she was surprised that I’d asked.

  ‘Aren’t you angry about the things she said to you?’

  ‘No, I felt a bit sorry for her really. She was just feeling threatened, wasn’t she? I knew that once she knew that you’ll always like her best she’d come round.’

  I was so staggered by Lily showing such insight into another human being that I could hardly speak. ‘So you don’t mind? You’re not . . . cross or anything?’

  ‘No, I like Megs, she wears great socks.’

  I can’t say that I’ve looked at Megs’s socks recently, but it was just a relief to hear Lily say something Lilyish again.

  I can only hope that all this nonsense is over.

  Because it would be terrible to have people fighting over me all the time.

  I might describe this whole incident to Granny next time she asks me if I’m popular.

  Heard today that those naughty window cleaners were actually having a cup of tea and eating doughnuts with the kitchen staff. Apparently, Miss Pee was furious. I am furious too. I have never even seen a doughnut at school. Where have they been hiding them all this time? Clearly, down the necks of workmen.

  I wonder how Miss Pee explained to th
e window cleaners the hugeness of their crime. I reckon that it’s not just that it’s the best parking space, I think that Miss Pee likes to park her big shiny car there so that she can keep looking out the window of her office and saying, ‘That’s mine, that is.’ Old people are so immature.

  Everyone was talking about Miss Pee’s tantrum. I don’t know how so many people knew about it. Megs and I can only have managed to get round to a hundred or so girls before registration.

  Anyway, I got a standing ovation in History when I arrived (a mere six minutes late) and found Limp Lizzie in my favourite seat. I said, ‘This is entirely unacceptable,’ then I pointed at her and said, ‘Mr Freeborn, move that thing NOW!’ Ah, how everyone laughed. Even Miss Wood tried so hard not to giggle that she accidentally bit the cap off the board marker she was holding. She ended up with blue ink all round her mouth, but we didn’t mention it.

  Brilliant rehearsal. We got there in time to see Finn stroll in and the first thing he said was, ‘Hey . . . Faith.’

  If I’m being really picky there was quite a long pause between the ‘hey’ and the ‘Faith’, but I think that’s just the speed that he speaks. It’s like he’s not quite of this world. Besides, he must meet a lot of girls and he obviously doesn’t speak to all of them because once he’d sauntered off to the piano almost every female in the room was hissing at me under their breath.

  Megs just said, ‘He’s a bit sure of himself.’

  I said, ‘You’d be sure of yourself if you looked like that.’

  ‘If I looked like that I wouldn’t be sure at all. I’d wonder why my parents had raised me as a girl when I quite clearly had a boy’s body.’

  ‘There’s no need to bring your weird gender issues into this.’

  She looked at me. ‘What do you mean my gender issues?’

  ‘Megs, we all know you enjoyed wearing that beard when we did Macbeth in Year Eight . . . And I haven’t forgotten that time you stood up to pee.’

  ‘You’ve been known to enjoy sporting facial hair yourself and that loo seat looked very unhy—’

  ‘If I promise to give you some proper therapy when you’re rich enough to pay me for it, do you think we could go back to talking about Finn?’

  ‘I just don’t like people who are too sure of themselves.’

  ‘So you think we should all be insecure together?’

  ‘Well, it’s much more friendly.’

  I don’t think that Finn is too sure of himself. He’s just very relaxed. Mellow. He’s nice to everyone.

  I tried being on the frosty side to Ethan to show him what I thought of him abandoning me at the party to go and spend time with Icky. He didn’t even have the manners to notice. So I decided to use subtle questioning to discern his motives for hanging out with her ickiness.

  I said, ‘Why the hell were you talking to the tiny troll at the party?’

  He laughed. ‘Vicky is a bit high-pitched, isn’t she?’

  I, of course, am too well-mannered to criticise other girls, so I just nodded my head. Quite a lot.

  ‘And a bit . . . pushy. I really just wanted a go on that guitar. It’s Ryan’s dad’s Dreadnought.’

  It seems not all guitars are the same. I gathered that some are better than others and some are so exciting that they make your eyes go shiny. Ethan was quite sweet and glowy when he started talking about the Battlestar or whatever it’s called. I found myself actually listening to him explain the kind of guitar sound he likes best (grainy, apparently). I was thinking about asking him for a lesson when Finn ambled past and gave me a thumbs up.

  Ethan saw him and said, ‘And what about who you were chatting to at the party? What did you and Beach Bum find to talk about? Hair care?’

  Which annoyed me. I didn’t know that Ethan had seen me talking to Finn and I didn’t think it was fair of him to suggest that it was trivial. I couldn’t bear to prove him right by saying we mostly talked about cheese, so I said, ‘Just . . . stuff.’

  Then there was a bit of a pause and before I could get back to the guitar lesson Mr Millet was making noises at us and I had to start singing and pretending to know what he was talking about. Obviously, I didn’t do this very well because a couple of times Lily and Megs started cracking up at my attempts to follow Mr M’s nonsense instructions. At least they seem to be getting along a bit better. At the end I wanted to talk to Ethan again, but straight away he started chatting to Lily. I hope he enjoyed his lecture on the history of her shoe collection.

  This morning I was just settling down for a post-breakfast snooze on the sofa when the doorbell rang.

  Mum said, ‘That will be Granny.’

  This is obviously Mum’s new tactic. Previously, when she has heralded Granny’s arrival by insisting on house cleaning and the brushing of hair, she has found herself in a strangely empty house by the time Granny arrives, so this time she went for a surprise attack. Both Sam and I sprang towards the window.

  Mum said, ‘It’s locked. Sit down and be polite.’

  To be fair to Granny, I’ve always found that she’s not that bothered whether you are polite or not. She tells you off either way.

  She came in and said, ‘There are my grandchildren, or at least I think they are. I haven’t seen them in so long.’ Then she took out her hanky and wiped the sofa before she sat down.

  I sat back and tried to lose consciousness whilst still nodding and smiling. Talking to Granny is a lot like being lectured by Miss Ramsbottom. Only I don’t bother with the smiling for that.

  In the end, Granny caught my attention by saying, ‘You’re a growing girl and I expect you’re expensive to keep in clothes.’

  I nearly said, Yes, but the neighbours complain when I go without, but I thought I could hear the papery rustle of some cash coming my way so I kept quiet. She started fishing about in her shopper bag and I started planning a trip to Topshop.

  She pulled out a carrier bag. ‘So I’ve brought you some of my things.’

  My mouth fell open. Which Granny seemed to take as a sign of gratitude. ‘That’s all right; I needed some new clothes for my mini-break with Peter anyway. And you may as well have these things now. It will all be yours when I’m dead.’

  Which is crafty when you think about it. She’s giving me an incentive to keep her alive.

  When Granny had left, I said to Mum, ‘Make sure you keep those windows locked tonight, otherwise she might just fly right back in.’

  Mum said, ‘Faith, I won’t have you making your granny sound like a witch. It isn’t fair.’ She fished out the sweet wrappers Granny had stuffed down the side of the sofa. ‘All the witches I’ve known have been very sweet ladies.’

  Which just goes to show. Mum might be an old hippy, but we can all see where I get my sharp tongue from.

  I took my bag of treats from Granny upstairs, along with Sam’s football gloves which I put on for protection before pulling out the charming selection of items she’d given me: one turquoise polyester blouse with shoulder pads and ‘jewel’ buttons, one vest-style top with a parrot embroidered on it in sequins and one pointy black bra. The size on the label of the bra had faded away, but when Sam wandered in and saw me holding it up in horror he said, ‘Can I have that so I can make a couple of wizard hats?’

  I didn’t give it to him, because it goes against my nature to say yes to anything he asks, but now I realise I want it myself. Ethan’s going to get a nasty surprise.

  Yesterday afternoon I took Granny’s cast-offs (except the bra) to a charity shop. There was a girl manning the till who, if you ignored the pierced nose and scary eye makeup, looked like she was about eight years old.

  I went up to her and said, ‘Can I swap these for something nice?’

  She sniffed. ‘We haven’t got anything nice, but you can have a look at our rubbish.’

  I thought that was a bit judgemental coming from a small girl in high heels and a gold crop top, but it turns out she was right. There was nothing worth having in the whole shop.

&
nbsp; In the end I found three My Pretty Ponies, like the ones I had when I was little, and they gave me a good idea. The little girl made me pay for them (apparently it’s not a swapping situation and you’re supposed to just give away your stuff to these places – no wonder they’re full of junk). I watched her to make sure she put the money in the till. I didn’t want her spending my cash on another piercing.

  Miss Pee has had ‘Headmistress’ painted on her parking space in big white letters! I’ve got to say that if she wants to stop people parking there, a traffic cone might be more effective.

  It’s also going to be quite hard for me to walk past the word ‘Headmistress’ every day and resist the urge to cross out ‘mistress’ and write ‘case’.

  Anyway, while Megs and I were admiring Miss Pee’s parking space craziness, a lady in a suit came up to us. But I couldn’t tell you what colour the suit was because I was entirely distracted by the massive chain around her neck. You know, like a mayor or a rapper. She almost fell over Megs, who had got down on her hands and knees to take a picture with her phone of a dead bird that we thought Miss Pee had probably sacrificed to the parking space gods. The woman skipped backwards sharpish, like she thought Megs might bite.

  I said, ‘Don’t worry, she won’t hurt you. Since we put the chip in her head, she’s done a lot less savaging.’

  The woman smiled at me. Sometimes I wonder if people are actually listening to what I say.

  She said, ‘I do hope you young ladies can help me. I’ve come to present some certificates in this afternoon’s assembly. Do you think you could show me the way to reception?’

  It was almost time for the end-of-lunch bell to ring, but I thought that showing visitors about was probably a legitimate excuse for being late for registration, so I agreed that Megs and I would show her the way.

  As we strolled along, Angharad flew past us, red in the face and gasping. Obviously, she was terrified of missing those vital first few minutes of registration when people are finishing their lunch and the teacher is making up her next lesson.