Brave New Girl (3 page)

They had the laptop open and were scrolling through some clothes website online. As far as they were concerned I had practically vanished. I didn't count at all. They didn't want chocolate, they just didn't want me around.

“Don't call Keith my ‘little' mate!”

For a second Sasha looked really worried. “Oh, no! You haven't fallen out with him too?”

I rolled my eyes. “No.”

“Tell you what, Ser, we'll do your eyes when you come back, how about that, yeah?”

Somehow that sounded worse. It was like she was only doing it to make me feel better, cos she felt bad. I went downstairs and slammed the front door. It was still warm and little kids were running around in the car park. There was a drink can in the gutter and I kicked it hard.

One of the kids yelled at me. “Is Denny coming out?”

“I don't know!” I snapped, and he ran away as if I'd hit him.

I took a deep breath. It was no use being angry, I
knew that just made everything turn out even worse. I didn't do that sort of thing any more.

I just had to make it work with Luke and Sasha. Then maybe she'd think twice about ignoring me.

It rained all day Saturday. Keith texted me in the morning to say it was too wet to go and look at locations so he'd be going to Youth Orchestra after all. I texted back ‘CHICKEN'.

By the time Keith did come round, it was after tea and the boys were sitting in front of the telly, watching giant dinosaurs chasing people through time.

Keith looked at me shiftily. “Can we talk?” It wasn't like him at all.

“Are you all right?” I said.

“Keeeith!” Arthur said, and threw a cushion at him.

“I'm singing in the Olympics, at the Opening Ceremony!” Denny said. The boys loved Keith. He was like an unofficial big brother.

“Fantastic!” Keith said, throwing the cushion back, gently, at Arthur. “That is great, Den, but I need to talk to Seren. Upstairs.”

“Ooo-oooh!” said Denny, and Arthur sang, “Keith's your boyfriend!” over and over.

“That is so lame, boys. If you want to wind me up you'll have to try a lot harder,” I said, because it was so blatantly not true. And, may I add, it never has been and what's more, the boys knew it too.

“What is it?” I said, on the way up. “Has something happened?”

“Is Sasha in?” He looked round the bedroom.

“She's not in the cupboard, Keith, honest,” I said. He was looking around, nervous. “She doesn't finish work until seven.” Sasha did a Saturday job, waitressing in my dad's restaurant in the afternoons.

“Good.” Keith shut the door behind us. “I was at Youth Orchestra.”

“I know,” I said. “I didn't think you'd get out of it. You always say you'll bunk off, but your problem is you're just too good.”

Keith pushed his glasses back up his nose. “I told you, it was the weather!”

I smiled. “So, am I looking at your wonder script or not?”

“It's not a script exactly – not yet. Anyway, something came up. I heard them talking at Youth Orchestra.”

“Them?” I made a face. “Go on.”

“There were some girls from school, from Year
Eleven, Danielle something and her mate with the short hair.”

“Amy, isn't it?”

“Yeah, Amy.” He nodded.

“Well?”

“I was just packing up, and I heard these girls talking... I don't always hang around girls talking, that's not my style at all.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, you're not jamming with the boys going over the football scores.”

“I do. Sometimes!” Keith sounded hurt. “I only listened because they were talking about your precious Luke!”

“He's not
my
Luke!” I was practically jumping up and down. “Spit it out, Keith!”

“They said he was going out with Keisha Coates.”

I let out a long breath and flopped back on the bed. I wanted to laugh, I was so relieved. “Oh my days! That news is so old it's probably carved in stone! Carved in stone on the side of a pyramid or something. Everyone knows they split up weeks ago! You had me worried there for a second, you really did.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am sure. I'm surer than sure,” I said. I looked at
him. He seemed nervous. “What is it you're worried about? Is it tomorrow? You don't want us to even try, do you?”

“No, it's just…” He sighed. “Well, yes, all right, I am worried.” He took a deep breath. “I know you, Seren. It could all backfire. I'm worried you'll be disappointed.”

“So? I'll be disappointed! At least I'll have tried. At least, maybe, Sasha will see I'm not entirely useless. I mean, Keith, what's the worst that can happen?”

Keith said nothing. He opened his mouth and shut it again, more than once. I knew there was a chance things might not work out – Luke might be ill with some new kind of flu, Sasha might do one of her earth-shattering burps, thinking the shop was empty – but we had to try.

“And if Luke Beckford did have a new girlfriend, I would be the second to know – maybe third, after Sasha and Fay. Believe! It's all still on for tomorrow,” I said, trying to sound determined and in control. “So, now that's settled, why don't you tell me about your film?”

Keith made a face that said ‘I'm still not convinced'. I made one back that said ‘that's that', and he fished about in his bag and brought out a notebook.

“My film,” he said. And I knew it was important to him because he couldn't quite look me in the eye.

I told myself I would not tease him. If it was bad I would let him down gently, like Mum does with the boys when we've run out of cherry yoghurt.

Keith started talking. “I had this idea, sort of based on the play we did in class in Year Seven –
The Tempest
– where this girl has grown up on an island and never seen the real world. Her dad is a magician, and a bit of a control freak to be honest, and there's spirits and stuff and a shipwreck.”

I remembered doing that play. “Why did Miss Tunks give that big part to Shazna? She was so bad! I had to be the fairy thing, the spirit, Ariel. Sanjay and Ed called me ‘TV' for weeks. That was
so
not fair.”

“Seren, will you let me finish? Shazna is not going to be in my film, OK? And like I said, it's only
based
on
The Tempest
. And anyway, you being Ariel was the best thing about it.” He flicked through the red notebook while he talked.

Keith thought I was good. I
was
good. Christina had said so at the time, even Miss Tunks.

I listened and said nothing for ages while Keith talked me through it. Downstairs, I heard the front door slam. It was Sasha, come in from work.

“I better go,” Keith said, getting up. “You read through it and let me know what you think. Add some notes, anywhere you want. You've always got good ideas, Seren. See you tomorrow.”

“Will do.” I lowered my voice in case Sasha came up the stairs and I didn't hear. “You reckon Luke's in the shop for 11.30?”

Keith nodded.

“Then we'll be there at 11.20.”

“Shall we synchronise our watches?”

“Do I look like James Bond?” I said.

Keith shrugged. “Well maybe not Daniel Craig, but sometimes, if it's a bit dark and you're frowning, you could pass as one of the old, craggy ones…”

“Keith!”

He ran out of the room before I could hit him with a pillow.

Keith's story wasn't bad at all. It wasn't a whole story, more like notes and sketches, and some of his drawings even made me laugh. It was about this girl who's lived all of her life on one estate, cut off from the world by a river and a motorway. It sounded a lot like where we lived. She was called Miranda, though,
same as in the play. I liked that. Miranda. In Keith's notebook it was about Miranda wanting to see the world and being trapped on an estate.

There were spirits, but they weren't people dressed up as ghosts, they were in the place, in the buildings and in the new Light Railway. Anyway, at the end, the world comes to the girl, in the Olympics. I did think it was good, but I thought he could make it better.

I was still sitting on my bed reading Keith's notebook when Sasha came in and changed out of her waitress's white shirt and black trousers.

“Your dad gave me an extra tenner this afternoon,” Sasha said. She stood in front of the cupboard and swished through the clothes on her half of the rail. “I couldn't believe it, the place isn't exactly heaving with customers and your dad is usually so tight.”

“He is not!” I said. Someone had to defend him.

Sasha shrugged. “Well, OK,
he's
not tight exactly but his mum, your Nene, oh my days, what a nightmare!”

I said nothing. I was not going to defend Nene. Nightmare was a totally fair description. Nene didn't like any of us, especially not Mum or me. Mum had
explained it wasn't my fault, that Nene thought my dad had let himself down by falling in love with her.

Sasha went on, “She usually has her beady eye on him. Doesn't let any money out of her sight, that woman. I reckon something's up. He gave me one for you too. He seemed kinda odd.”

I looked up. Sasha was holding out a tenner. “For me?”

Sasha nodded. “I know! It's not like him at all. Maybe he's ill. Anyway, this lovely tenner is going straight into my dress fund with my wages. I am going to have something so special for the end of term Prom...” She folded the money into her bank stuff and shut it in her drawer.

“Odd?” I said, sitting up. “You said my dad looked odd. What d'you mean?”

“Worried.” Sasha turned towards me. “More worried than normal, you get me? And tired.”

Now
I
was worried. Last time I'd seen him he'd been talking to Nene in Turkish a lot. I don't speak it at all, just hello, goodbye and counting to ten, but even so, I could tell there were problems.

Nene never let him forget how stupid he was to spend all that money on doing the whole place out
like the inside of a cave, a few years ago. I couldn't bear it if they had to close. I knew how hard he'd worked.

“Yeah, OK. I'll get myself over there after school this week,” I said. On the table by my bed was the blue glass eye pendant he'd given me when I was born. For good luck, to watch over me. I picked it up and turned it over and over in my hand.

“I hate that bloody thing!” Sasha said. She'd never liked it. “Can't you put it away? It really creeps me out.”

I shoved it in the drawer with my knickers. “So, Sash, are you going out?” I said. Silly question.

“There's a party at this youth club over in Clapton.”

“You're not staying over at Fay's though?” I said. I needed her back here, reasonably early, not looking completely washed-out. “Are you, have you, I mean you're not, you're not going out with someone, anyone… yet?”

“What are you on about?” Sasha looked at me as if I was more than one kind of nuts.