Rebecca is Always Right (9 page)

I decided I would have to try cheering Rachel up today. She spent all morning lying on the couch reading Mum’s old poetry books from college. It was a piteous sight. She can’t go on like this forever, but she hasn’t shown any signs of doing anything else so I knew I had to do something to help her
along the way. But what? If I had loads of money, I could, like, take her out and have lots of exciting adventures and buy her loads of cool stuff, but sadly all I had in my purse today was a five euro note and that wouldn’t go far. I couldn’t even take her to the cinema with it, and my parents had gone to visit my annoying aunt (luckily they hadn’t insisted on taking us with them) so I couldn’t get any money out of them.

Anyway, out of desperation, I decided to take Rachel for a walk. After all, fresh air is meant to be good for you, isn’t it? Of course, it wasn’t easy to persuade her.

‘I don’t want to go for a walk!’ she said.

‘It’ll be nice!’ I said. ‘The autumn leaves! The beauties of nature!’

‘What beauties of nature?’ she said. ‘There isn’t any nature round here.’

She had a point. The nearest park just looks like a big flat playing field. But then I thought of something.

‘The teacher-training college!’ I said. ‘That’s got lots of nature – well, it’s got trees and squirrels and things – and it’s only round the corner.’

‘I am not getting off this nice cosy couch to go out and walk around the grounds of a bloody teacher-training college,’ said Rachel.

‘But it will stop you thinking about Tom,’ I said. ‘I mean,
you don’t want him to think that you’re just …’ I nearly said ‘moping’ for a second, but then I stopped myself. ‘That you’re just staying at home all the time?’

I didn’t remind her that she had definitely not stayed at home on Friday night. Anyway, for some reason it worked.

‘Oh God, I’ll come for a stupid walk if it’ll shut you up,’ she said.

A few minutes later, we were walking down to the teacher-training college. I’m not sure if you’re actually allowed to walk around the grounds if you’re not a student there, but they never seem to care. Cass and I have been known to walk around there discussing the important things in life, like whether Paperboy was ever going to come back from Canada, the latest developments in
Laurel Canyon
and what we’d call our autobiographies if we wrote them (Cass’s would be called
From School to Stage: The Cass McDermott Story
. Mine would be called
Sticks and Stones
, which is a witty reference to my drum sticks. The stones bit doesn’t really mean anything. I just put it in because it’s the only phrase I could think of that has sticks in it).

It was actually rather nice just strolling down the hill because the weather was almost summery today.

‘See!’ I said to Rachel. ‘Look how warm and sunny it is!
You’d have missed this niceness if you were stuck indoors.’

‘Shut up or I’m turning around and going home,’ said Rachel, so I stopped pointing out how pleasant it was.

A few minutes later, we walked through the gates of the college (which have some excellent dragons on them that are over two hundred years old). There were flowers and nice big old trees everywhere and I actually felt more relaxed myself. I looked over at Rachel and saw she looked slightly less grumpy too. At least she didn’t have a hangover today, so that was another plus.

‘So we’re here,’ she said. ‘Trespassing. Where do we go now?’

‘Cass and I usually do a circuit of the grounds,’ I said. ‘What do you think?’

‘Oh, why not?’ said Rachel, not exactly enthusiastically. So off we went. Neither of us said anything for a while, but it wasn’t a bad sort of silence. It was all very peaceful. A squirrel paused while running between two trees and stared at us in a defiant sort of way. It felt like being in the countryside.

‘Vanessa’s ad is going to be on telly tomorrow,’ I said at last.

‘God, really?’ said Rachel. She has seen Vanessa in action before and knows how annoying she is. ‘That’s all I need. I’m not sure I’ll be able to take that in my current emotional state.’

It was only the second time since the break-up that I’ve
heard her make a sort of joke about it. I took this as a good sign.

‘She sings a song in it and everything,’ I said. ‘She says they might release it as a single!’

Rachel made a snorting sound that was almost – but not quite – a laugh.

‘I am fairly sure that is not going to happen,’ she said.

‘I wouldn’t be so sure,’ I said. ‘Cass said the other day that we should never underestimate Vanessa and she’s been proved right. She did get this ad, after all.’

‘Well, if she ends up in the charts, then I’ll know the world really doesn’t make any sense anymore,’ said Rachel. She kicked some fallen leaves. It was obvious that she was thinking about Tom again, which was not part of my cheering up plan. So I told her what Mum had said about the new Ruthie O’Reilly book.

‘She swears she didn’t put anything about us in the book this time,’ I said.

‘She’d better not have,’ said Rachel. ‘I still can’t believe she put in that story about Jenny and the … well, never mind.’

‘You never did tell me what story she stole!’ I said. ‘Go on!’

‘I can’t,’ said Rachel, but she was smiling. ‘It’s Jenny’s story, not mine. And I’m still a loyal friend. You wouldn’t tell me
about Cass or Alice, would you?’

‘I suppose not,’ I said. ‘Anyway, the book’s not going to be out for a while, so we have plenty of time to prepare. Unlike last time.’

‘Yeah, I think our parents have given us more than enough surprises over the last year,’ said Rachel. ‘What with ridiculous books and Dad being a dancing legend.’

‘I still find that kind of hard to believe,’ I said. ‘I mean, I almost think I dreamed it. If you and my friends hadn’t been there to witness it, I’d really think I had. I wonder what he’s doing to liven up Henry Higgins.’

‘God, yeah,’ said Rachel. ‘I’d forgotten about that. What can he be doing? High-kicking across the stage while other people are singing, probably.’

‘He wouldn’t do that!’ I said, but as soon as the words were out of my mouth I realised they weren’t true. There is a chance he could do that. He’s dancing mad. ‘Oh God, he probably would,’ I said.

At this stage, we had done a circuit of the training college grounds so we wandered out of the gates and headed homewards. I didn’t want to mention You-Know-Who, especially as we’d managed to talk about other things for the entire walk, but, as we walked up Glandore Road, I realised Rachel had
been thinking about him anyway because she suddenly said, ‘He’d have told me if there was somebody else, wouldn’t he?’

I didn’t bother pretending that I didn’t know who ‘he’ was.

‘Yeah, I suppose so,’ I said, even though I wasn’t actually sure. Then I thought of something. ‘I mean, when would he have had a chance to meet someone else? You saw him all the time until … well, you know.’

I’m afraid that might have sounded like I was reminding her that they weren’t seeing each other at all now, but she didn’t seem to think about that.

‘Yeah, you’re right,’ she said. She sighed. ‘God, I’m boring myself talking about it now.’

‘Did, um, did the walk distract you a bit?’ I said. We had just reached the top of our road.

Rachel looked quite surprised.

‘Yeah, actually,’ she said. ‘I mean, sort of. Ah, it got me out of the house. Thanks, Bex.’

‘It’s all right,’ I said. And then we were home and, to be honest, for once I was kind of relieved that our parents were there, being noisy and telling us to go and do some homework, because I am still not used to Rachel looking to me for romantic advice and guidance. It is meant to be the other way round. In fact, I almost miss the times when she was being
patronising and annoying and we kept insulting each other. Her being so miserable makes me feel weird as well as sad.

Oh.

My.

God.

I have seen Vanessa’s ad. I suspect everyone I know has seen Vanessa’s ad. And I think it might be the worst thing I’ve seen on television EVER. You might think it’d be hard to tell whether the ad is just bad because of Vanessa or whether it would be terrible anyway, but Rachel and I both agree that it would be terrible even if someone else was in it.

Here’s what happened. Rachel and I were in the sitting room watching
Fair City
and when the ad break started I was surprised at how nervous/excited I felt. After all, we’d been listening to Vanessa talk about this ad for weeks and now I was going to actually see it. Though now I wish I hadn’t. Anyway, first of all there was an ad for a phone company and the next thing I knew the screen was full of Vanessa’s face in black and white! A sort of jaunty bassline played as she pretended to
be asleep in a bedroom full of vintage trinkets and posters – there was a ‘Keep Calm and Carry On’ poster and another one with a big castle symbol and the words ‘Dublin’s Great in ’88’, which Mum said was the slogan when Dublin was supposedly a thousand years old back in 1988.

Then Vanessa stretched and opened her eyes and everything turned into colour. She was wearing a genuinely cool pair of navy polka dot pyjamas. She looked at the camera, smiled, then reached out of bed, picked up a bright pink ukulele and started to play chords on it. I am pretty sure that if Vanessa could actually play a musical instrument we would have heard all about it during the summer camp, so I can only assume she was miming. Anyway, that was all bad enough, but then, still looking straight into the camera, Vanessa said, ‘Hi. I’m Kookie. And I’ve got a message for everyone out there who feels a little bit, well, quirky. Like me!’ Even though she was meant to have just woken up, she was wearing perfect make-up.

And then she began to sing the most annoying song I’ve ever heard in my life.

I think my mouth might have dropped open with horror.

‘Whoah,’ said Rachel.

Then the ad cut to Vanessa dressed in a really cute little dress with a white collar. Except it didn’t matter how nice the dress was because she was prancing around still pretending (probably) to play the ukulele and smiling in a horrible sickly way.

While she was singing, she skipped out the front door, accompanied by a very, very cute pug with a lovely smiley face. He must be Handsome Dan! Poor little thing, how unfair that he has to share his moment of stardom with someone as awful as Vanessa. The ad cut to her riding a really cool 1950s-style American bike down a street of redbrick houses. Handsome Dan was sitting in the basket in a special harness which didn’t look very safe to me, but he looked cheerful enough even though Vanessa was still singing.

Then we saw her arrive at a cute little shop that said Bluebird Bakery over the door. She and Handsome Dan strolled in and
she went up to the counter, where there was a big display of Bluebird Bakery Yummy Scrummy Cookies, complete with an old-fashioned china plate piled high with cookies. Vanessa picked one up, took a quick bite and sort of wrinkled her nose with pleasure. It was a sickening sight. Then she looked at the camera again and said: ‘And the perfect treat on a kooky little day – or any day – is a Bluebird Bakery Yummy Scrummy Cookie!’

Then she sang the last verse of her dreadful ditty.

‘Some people might think I’m, well, a little bit strange,’ said Vanessa. And then she winked at the camera as the words ‘Bluebird Bakery Yummy Scrummy Cookies’ appeared on the screen. ‘But that’s the way the cookie crumbles!’

And that was it.

It was even worse than I could have imagined. Not only was Vanessa incredibly irritating in it, but it took loads of things that would be very nice on their own – like miniature musical instruments and pugs and old bikes – and put them all together and made them look all affected and cutesy and
silly. And as for the song – well, words almost fail me, but not quite. I have never heard anything more annoying in my life, and not just because they rhymed ‘kooky’ with ‘snooty’. Those words don’t rhyme! Don’t they have a rhyming dictionary? There are loads of words that actually rhyme with ‘kooky’! Like ‘spooky’! And ‘fluky’! That line could have been something like ‘So don’t be afraid that I’m spooky’, or something. Not that that’s particularly good, but then, it’s a terrible song to begin with.

And then there was that even worse catchphrase at the end. That’s the way the cookie crumbles indeed! Handsome Dan was the best thing by far in the whole ad. I wish the entire thing was just him going around by himself being awesome and puglike. That would make me want to buy biscuits. He could have carried the cookies around his neck in a little basket or something. I just feel sorry for him having to work with Vanessa for an entire weekend. I know he is merely a dog, but they do say animals are very sensitive when it comes to people’s personalities, so he must have known how awful she is.

On the plus side, this evening was the first time I’ve seen Rachel laugh properly since the dumping. When Vanessa cycled off, with Handsome Dan in the basket, singing about having a kooky little day, she let out a proper big honk of laughter.

‘This is amazing,’ she said.

Then I made her shut up because for some weird reason I didn’t want to miss the rest of the awful song. I must be a masochist.

As soon as it was over, my phone beeped. It was a text from Cass and simply read, ‘Won’t be in school tomorrow cos I have been struck blind and deaf by that ad.’

I rang her because this was another issue that needed to be discussed in person. She didn’t even say hello when answering the phone. She just said, ‘It was worse than I thought.’

‘I know,’ I said. ‘Apart from Handsome Dan.’

‘Oh yes, I liked him,’ said Cass. ‘But otherwise I am trying to think how it could have been more annoying and I actually don’t think it could.’

‘She’s going to be worse than ever now,’ I said. And we both sighed because we know this is true. She was pretty bad at school today and that was before the ad had even aired. She accosted me when I was going to the loo at lunchtime.

‘So, Rebecca,’ she said. ‘Is your mother still doing that whole writing for teenagers thing?’

‘Um, yes, unfortunately,’ I said, wondering what was going to come next. The last time Vanessa showed any interest in my mother was when she decided Mum’s supposed fame would
help her get on a reality TV show. ‘The next one’s coming out before Christmas.’

‘Great,’ said Vanessa. ‘Are there any plans for a TV series?’

‘What?’ I said. ‘No! Not as far as I know.’

‘Well, if there is,’ said Vanessa, ‘just let her know I might be available. Of course, it depends how the Kookie campaign develops. I might be too busy. But I’m sure she’d want her daughter’s friend to play a lead role.’

‘I don’t think she’d have any say in the matter,’ I said. I didn’t bother pointing out that Vanessa has only ever seen herself as my friend when she thought she could get something from me.

‘Just let her know I’m interested,’ said Vanessa, ignoring what I’d just said (as usual). And she strolled off.

The thing is, and I hate to say it, but I actually think she would be pretty good at playing the awful Ruthie O’Reilly. She’s certainly obnoxious enough.

Anyway, now I am faced with the prospect of seeing that ad every time I turn on my telly. What a thought. Still, it was good to see Rachel laughing like a loon again, even though she does have quite a honking laugh (she inherited it from Dad. Mum still laughs like a horse. I hope I haven’t inherited either of their weird animal-like laughs. I don’t think I have, but you never know. Maybe I am so used to it I can’t tell that I sound
like some weird goose-horse hybrid).

Rachel said she hadn’t thought it was possible for Vanessa to be so sweet and sugary. ‘I kept expecting her to say that she believed in fairies and that the stars were God’s daisy chain or something,’ she said. The ad had definitely cheered her up. She looked positively happy. So maybe Vanessa can be a force for good after all.

I don’t understand the world anymore. Nothing makes sense. Today was even worse than I feared. Unsurprisingly, everyone at school saw the ad last night. But very surprisingly, everyone at school seems to love it! Girls from other classes kept sticking their heads into our form room at lunch, trying to catch a glimpse of Vanessa. They were even following her around as she went from class to class. I swear to God, some of them were even asking for her autograph. And she, of course, was in her element.

‘Form an orderly queue, girls,’ she commanded as a bunch of first years held out pieces of paper.

‘They’re too young to know any better,’ said Alice.

‘I don’t know,’ said Cass. ‘When we were their age, we certainly wouldn’t have wanted to get Vanessa’s autograph.’

We mightn’t have had a choice. She was actually offering to sign people’s copies and folders during the mid-morning break. I half expected her to start grabbing them out of our hands and scrawling all over them.

‘I told you I wouldn’t forget you all when my ad came out,’ she assured us. ‘And I won’t!’

If only she would. The thing about Vanessa is that you simply can’t ignore her because she won’t let you, so she is a constant source of annoyance. Of course, none of us (not even Caroline and Karen) took her up on her autograph offer, but she didn’t care. At one stage, in our form room during lunch break, when the flood of girls from other classes had died down, she turned to me and said, ‘So, what did you think of the ad?’

I said the only polite thing I could think of.

‘Um, it was very colourful,’ I said. ‘I liked Handsome Dan.’

‘Oh yeah,’ said Vanessa. ‘He was a pro. I actually asked his owner about buying him. I thought it would be good for the brand if we were seen walking around together in public.’

What a terrible fate for poor Handsome Dan! Imagine being bought by Vanessa purely as a marketing tool and forced to
parade through the streets with her. Luckily, his owner immediately said no. Apparently, she runs a performing-animal agency called The Li’l Tykes and has two other dogs of her own which also appear in ads. What a brilliant job that must be – just hanging around with nice, cheerful dogs all day and teaching them how to ride in bike baskets (because putting a dog in a bike basket should only be done under expert supervision). Although, on the downside, you’d have to hang around with people like Vanessa too. Still, swings and roundabouts, as my annoying aunt likes to say.

‘I didn’t realise you could play the ukulele, Vanessa,’ said Alice politely.

Vanessa looked at her in a very patronising way.

‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘I was doing a little thing I like to call … acting.’

And because Alice has much better manners than I do, she just said, ‘Oh. Well, it looked very realistic.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ said Vanessa, and before any of us could say anything else she turned back towards her fan club (aka Karen and Caroline. Alison was there too, but she looked very bored). Karen started telling them how Bernard the Fairytale Prince went over to her house last night so they could watch the ad together.

‘You’re an inspiration to us all,’ said Karen to Vanessa. ‘Bernard and I are going to start looking out for auditions ourselves.’

Vanessa looked a bit taken aback for a moment. Clearly she didn’t like the idea of someone else, especially her devoted pal, stealing her thunder. But then she seemed to decide that being copied was another form of flattery, as well as an opportunity to show off even more.