Suzy P and the Trouble with Three (11 page)

“Let’s clean it off and put some antiseptic cream on,” Clare says. “I’ve got a first-aid kit in the car.”

Murphy starts frantically barking as she goes to the car.

Clare cleans up my foot and slathers it in cream. Ouch. Stingy.

“So what do you want to do?” Clare asks. “I think it looks all right, but it’s not up to me.”

“I think we should all go back to bed,” Dad says. “We can look at Suzy’s toe in the morning and decide what to do then.”

Er, hello, I could be totally dead by then! Easy for him to say we can decide in the morning, when it’s not his foot that could have this Weil’s disease they’re all banging on about. Plus it really hurts. It’s properly throbbing. Does that mean I’ve got it?

It feels like I’ve literally only just dropped off when I wake to see Mum’s face looming over me, as she unzips my sleeping bag and grabs my foot. Outside it’s light, and I can hear the sounds of the small kids running around screaming. Which is obviously the cue for Murphy to
start howling at the top of his doggy voice.

“Whaaa are you doing? Gerroff,” I say.

“Let me look at that bite,” she says.

That wakes me up in a flash. Oh yes. The bite. They’re lucky I didn’t cark it in the night, if you ask me.

My toe still throbs like crazy. It’s kind of pink and red, but doesn’t look too bad this morning. The rat didn’t bite that hard, you can hardly see the teeth marks now, but I don’t find that hugely reassuring.

Dad appears in the doorway of the caravan, still in his pyjamas. He yawns widely as he ruffles his hair. “I’m so tired,” he says. “Amber woke me up about eight times again last night with her constant peeing.”

“She’s pregnant, what do you expect the poor girl to do?” Mum says. “Now, we need to discuss Suzy’s foot.”

“I don’t want to die,” I whimper pathetically.

“You’re not going to die,” Dad says.

“I think she needs to get checked at the hospital,” Mum says.

“Well, I can’t take her. I’m supposed to be driving back today, to get my equipment for the talent show.”

Thanks for nothing, Dad. Heard of compassion?

“That can wait,” Mum says. She holds my foot up for Dad to examine. “Look, it’s swollen. All round there. And it’s red by the bite marks.”

“What bite marks?” Dad says, squinting. “I can’t see anything. And it doesn’t look swollen to me. Are you sure she hasn’t just got a funny-shaped toe?”

A funny-shaped toe? How flipping rude!

“I’d be happier if we got it looked at,” Mum says.

“Oh, all right,” Dad says, realising that giving in is the only way he’s going to get some peace. “Let me have my breakfast and a cup of coffee first, then we’ll go back to the hospital.”

“Thank you,” Mum says. “We’ll get you seen to, don’t worry, Suzy. And with luck, we’ll have caught it in time and they won’t have to amputate.”

Amputate? Say
what
now?

Am I seriously about to lose a toe because of a stupid rodent?

My toe
doesn’t need amputating.

But it does take a really long time to sort out.

It’s hours before we get back to the campsite. Dad got lost on the way to the hospital, refusing to take Clare’s satnav as he’d driven there before and of course he could remember the way, what did we take him for, an idiot?

Turns out, he is indeed an idiot. He totally couldn’t remember the way.

Then when we signed in at A & E, the receptionist looked like she was trying not to laugh as she squinted at my toe. I’d limped for dramatic effect and everything, but it made no difference – she just told us to take a seat, and warned we could be a while.

A while was right. Over three hours, in fact.

We eventually got seen by a doctor Dad called ‘a young upstart’, who said she thought it would be fine as my tetanus was up to date. It was only when Mum started freaking and 
shrieking about Weil’s disease that she sighed heavily and wrote out a prescription for antibiotics to be taken as a precautionary measure.

This was after she’d explained that Weil’s disease comes from rat wee, so unless the rat bit me then peed on my foot before scarpering, it was extremely unlikely that I had it.

In all honesty, I think she just wanted Mum to shut up and go away.

The only good thing about the whole experience was that I discovered I had mobile reception again. Hurrah, and indeed, huzzah.

Lagging behind the parentals as we return to the car, I excitedly dial Danny’s number. The phone rings and rings.

Come on, Danny, pick up, pick up…

Just when I think it’s about to go to voicemail, Danny answers. I can hear a weird noise in the background, like drilling or something, then a ‘shhhhhhh’ noise, and everything goes quiet.

“Danny?”

“Hey, you,” Danny says. His voice, so familiar and reassuring, immediately makes me feel better. “How’s it going? I didn’t think you could get a signal.”

I’m about to explain when I hear a huge crash on the end of the line. “What was that?” I ask.

“Erm, nothing. Walking around outside and there are some roadworks,” Danny says. “Having a good time?”

“I’m calling you from the hospital car park,” I say. “I got bitten by a rat.”

“You what? Hagrid?”

“No. It’s a long story. I can’t flipping wait to come home. It’s not stopped raining, we’re bored stiff and to top it all off, we’ve been forced into entering some ridiculous talent show.”

Danny starts to laugh. “A talent show? What are you going to do? Recreate some of your more spectacular accidents?”

“Oh, ha ha. No, Millie and I are doing a routine to The Drifting,” I say.

Danny laughs harder. “What, one of those routines you used to do when we were little? Seriously? That’s hilarious. I might get my dad to drive me across so I can watch.”

“Don’t you dare,” I warn him, although I’d give anything to see Danny right now. “Millie talked me into it.” I hear another crash and some muffled swearing.

“What’s going on?” I ask. It doesn’t sound like Danny’s outside.

“Um, that’s still the roadworks,” Danny says.

Really? One of the voices sound awfully female to me… but I must be imagining things.

“Look, I really need to talk to you. Millie’s acting
really strangely, and these boys have turned up on the campsite. Isabella’s really into them, and I—”

“I’m sorry, Suze, but I’ve got to go,” Danny says, sounding distracted. I’m not sure he’s heard a word of what I’ve said. “Can’t wait to see you again.”

“But—”

“Bye!” And then Danny’s gone, leaving me staring at my phone in disbelief.

Pfff. Boys. I seriously need some cheering up.

“Can we go and have a wander around town?” I ask. “Mum and I could go shopping while you sit and have a coffee and read the paper?” I say to Dad.

He’s tempted. I know he is. I can tell by the way he’s jangling the car keys thoughtfully.

“Come on, Mum, it’ll be nice to have a mooch around,” I say, silently adding in my head,
and it’s something to do other than hang around the utterly boring campsite
. Plus I reckon I could convince Mum to buy me some stuff…

Civilisation! We’re so very close to civilisation!

“What do you think, Jen? We could grab an hour or so before we go back, couldn’t we?” Dad says.

Mum’s torn. “It does sound lovely, but no, I don’t think so, I’m sorry. We should really get back to the others. I don’t want to leave Amber too long, in case she needs anything.”

Dad and I exchange a forlorn look, but know better than to argue with Mum when it’s something to do with Amber’s babies.

Pfff. It was worth a try.

“Where’s Millie?” I ask Clare. There’s no sign of her or Isabella when we get back. In fact, the whole campsite’s pretty much deserted. Clare’s busy wrestling with Murphy. She’s wielding a hairbrush, trying to groom him, but Murphy’s having none of it.

“Murphy, come on, you stupid dog, I need to get these burrs out of your fur,” Clare says, as Murphy flips onto his back, waving his legs in the air. She should know better than to try to make him do something he doesn’t want to do. He’s more stubborn than Harry.

“Will you give me a hand?” Clare asks.

“Um, I was looking for Millie?” I say.

Clare makes a frustrated noise and releases her hold on Murphy’s collar. Murphy gives a triumphant shake and darts into the caravan.

“I give up,” she says. “I was trying to get him vaguely presentable before your mum and I start practising with him.”

I still have
no
idea how she thinks that’s going to work.

“Devon was around again while you were away.
Apparently more people have been complaining about all the noise he’s making. He’s going to get us chucked off the campsite at this rate,” Clare sighs. “Devon said we were on our last warning. I don’t know why Martin couldn’t look after him. Murphy’s his pet.”

“Um, Millie?” I ask again.

“Oh, yes. I think she’s gone somewhere to practise the routine with Isabella,” Clare says.

“Thanks,” I say. I grab a couple of biscuits and then head off to the clearing to see what Millie and Isabella have come up with while I’ve been away.

When I finally catch up with them, I stand from a distance, watching in horror.

Isabella is demonstrating the most complicated move as Millie copies her. While she looks amazing, people would think I was having a seizure if I attempted something like that. Millie looks great too. But then Millie always was a million times more coordinated than me.

I swallow. Hard.

“Hi!” Millie says, catching sight of me and giving a huge wave. “How’s the foot? Didn’t they bandage it?” She peers at my toe in its sandal. “Gosh, you can’t even really see the bite any more. What did they do to it in the hospital to make it disappear? That’s amazing.”

I don’t want to tell her all they did was clean it again
and whack on more antiseptic cream.

“Oh you know, some tests and stuff,” I say vaguely.

“And have you got that disease?”

“I’ve got some antibiotics, so it should all be fine.”

“Thank goodness for that. I was properly worried about you. We’ve been working on the routine loads while you’ve been gone, did you see?”

“Yeah,” I say. “It seems very, um… complicated.”

“It’s looking great,” Isabella says. “We’ll show you. Obviously you’ll be doing my part.”

“Isabella made me spend the whole afternoon spying on those boys,” Millie whispers as Isabella walks a short distance away to her starting position and fiddles with the phone to get the music started.

“Nightmare,” I whisper back.

“It was actually quite funny,” Millie replies, with a giggle. “We were listening to them outside the bathroom block. They’re here on an adventure sports week or something. They were wandering around in these small towels, you should have seen their abs, Suze! Anyway, Isabella’s come up with a plan to get them to notice us,” Millie smiles mischievously. “We’re going mountain biking tomorrow.”

“Ready?” Isabella calls.

“I was telling Suzy about your idea for tomorrow,” Millie says.

“Oh, right. We’re going to hire some bikes from Devon,” Isabella says. “The boys are mountain biking, which means we are too. We’re just going to happen to be on the same paths as them.”

“Um, okay, sounds fun,” I say dubiously, while I’m actually thinking that me on a mountain bike sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. “Speaking of boys, I spoke to Danny earlier. There was mobile reception at the hospital.”

“Aw, cool, how is he? How’s Jamie?” Millie asks.

“Are we going to do this, Millie?” Isabella asks.

I really want to talk to Millie properly, but it’s impossible with Isabella butting in.

I swallow down my disappointment at not being able to dissect the conversation I had with Danny, and get ready to watch the routine. Never mind. I’ll talk to Millie later.

I try not to seem too freaked out as I watch Millie and Isabella strut their stuff. I mean, they look great. It’s just I can’t see myself doing what Isabella’s doing. It’s never going to happen. Not in a million, trillion years.

“So what do you think?” Millie asks eagerly, after they’ve finished.

“Yeah, fantastic,” I say, trying my best to seem enthusiastic.

“Should be simple enough for you,” Isabella says. “We’ll start practising tomorrow, when Millie and I get back from mountain biking.”

“You’re coming too, aren’t you, Suze?” Millie says.

“Course,” I say, trying to ignore the fact Isabella’s just made it pretty clear she doesn’t want me there.

“I’m really looking forward to getting off this campsite,” Millie says. “If I have to spend another day hanging around with Mum I’m going to scream.”

Huh? That’s not like Millie. She and Clare have always got on well, and Millie doesn’t put her down often. Millie’s acting… kind of different, I suppose. Not in any way I can put my finger on, but there’s definitely something off.

“Tomorrow’s going to be a laugh,” Millie says. “I’ve never been mountain biking before. You haven’t either, have you, Suze?”

“No, but it sounds good,” I lie. “I haven’t ridden a bike in forever.”

“We used to have matching pink bikes when we were younger,” Millie tells Isabella. “They had these streamers on the handles and baskets on the front. We used to put our dolls in them. Talk about lame.”

Lame? Is that what she really thinks about our childhood stuff? I always thought it was kind of sweet that we’d insisted on having all our possessions matching for about
three years. It showed what good friends we were.

“Jelly baby?” Millie offers Isabella. “There’s no point asking Suzy, she thinks they’re evil.”

“You’re terrible, you’ve got me totally addicted to these things,” Isabella says as she takes a handful.

As I watch Millie with Isabella, I feel all kinds of confused.

Maybe she and I aren’t the friends I always thought we were.

I’m wobbling
my way across the campsite on a hired bike, and it would be the understatement of the century to say I’m not exactly happy about it. However, I need to prove to Isabella I’m up for a laugh and not utterly rubbish at absolutely everything.

Mum was a bit disappointed we didn’t want to go to the stately home she’d found nearby, but delighted that Isabella’s finally taking an interest in something, so she gave us some money to hire bikes from Devon. Her only condition was that Harry had to come. And Murphy, of course. He’s running around barking his head off.

We hired our bikes from an equally excitable Devon this morning. I think he was thrilled to see us partaking in something he deemed worthwhile and outdoorsy, plus we’re all vacating the campsite. As far as he’s concerned, it’s a win-win. We got a big lecture about sticking to the cycle paths in the woods – the bikes he’s lent us aren’t suitable
for going off-road – and following the coloured arrows so we don’t get lost.

Isabella, Harry and Millie immediately zoomed off in front, while I’m following behind at about two miles per hour, doing my best not to fall off.

“We’ll ride past their pitch all casual,” Isabella’s saying when I finally catch up. “We’ll stop and get talking to them and drop it into the conversation that we’re going for a ride too, so why don’t we all go together. I’ll do most of the talking, so act natural, okay? Especially you, Suzy. Harry, don’t you dare give the game away.”

Huh? What does she mean, especially me? And Harry’s being surprisingly good about the whole thing. Usually this is just the kind of thing she likes to ruin for everyone.

“If anyone asks, the three of us are sixteen, okay?” Isabella adds.

“We’re lying about our ages?” I ask.

“They’re not going to want to hang around with babies,” Isabella says, loftily. “So we’re sixteen.”

I don’t look sixteen. Nowhere near. They’re never going to believe it. But I can’t stuff this up. Isabella and Millie will never forgive me.

“Okay, let’s go,” Isabella says.

I set off again, wobbling crazily, following behind
everyone else. This ground is too bumpy. And why are my pedals so hard to turn? I must be in the wrong gear or something. I fiddle around with the levers, but the pedals get even stiffer. There’s no way I’m revealing my ignorance to Isabella, so I decide to push through the pain. It’ll probably be easier going once we hit the cycle paths.

Over by their pitch, the boys are wheeling out their bikes and poking at their front tyres.

“Hi,” Isabella says, skidding to a stop and leaning over the handlebars.

The boys look up and give Isabella huge grins, staring at her in awe. To be fair, she does look amazing, in these teeny shorts which make her brown legs appear a mile long, with a couple of vests layered over the top showing off her impressive cleavage, and wedge sandals. She must be freezing. I’m still bundled up in my jeans and sweatshirt. I only wish I bought that thermal vest Mum got me last winter which I refused point-blank to wear at the time.

“Hi,” one of them says. He’s tall and muscly, with cropped blond hair and a stud through his eyebrow. He’s absolutely gorgeous. I’d kill for Isabella’s confidence. Imagine being able to just go up and talk to boys like that!

“You heading into the woods for a ride?” Isabella asks.

“Yeah,” the boy replies.

“Us too. Maybe we could all go together?” Isabella says,
flipping her hair over one shoulder and beaming a megawatt smile.

The older man accompanying the boys emerges from a tent and eyes us with suspicion.

“These girls were asking if they could cycle with us today, Dave,” the blond boy says.

Dave starts pumping up a tyre. “’Fraid not. Sorry, girls. Our insurance doesn’t cover you.”

“Hmm,” says Isabella. “But there’s no law against biking in the woods, is there?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Dave says.

“Well, that’s where we’re going. You’ll just happen to be there at the same time,” Isabella says.

Dave rubs his hand along his goatee and frowns. “We’re going off-road. You haven’t got the bikes to keep up.”

“Why don’t you let us worry about that?” Isabella says.

Dave decides that ignoring her is the best option, and instead of replying, calls, “Come on, Ant, we’re leaving.”

A boy of about Harry’s age emerges from the tent absorbed in a massive book, reading as he walks along.

“How come you’ve got a kid with you?” Isabella asks.

“My brother,” one of the other boys replies. He’s taller and skinnier than Blond Boy with jaw-length light-brown hair flecked thorough with natural auburn
highlights. There’s a stud through his lip and a beanie on his head. Like Blond Boy, he’s completely gorgeous.

“Come on,” Dave says to Ant again. “Put that down if you’re coming with us.”

“Okay, Dad, I’m coming, I’m coming,” Ant says distractedly, as he turns the page. “I need to finish this chapter… okay. Done. Cool dog, by the way. Is he friendly?”

He carefully sticks a bookmark between the pages, and, as he puts the book down on the table and starts making a fuss of Murphy, I see it’s the penultimate Harry Potter book.

“Hey, Harry, another Potter fan,” I say.

“You’re actually called Harry? You’re so lucky,” Ant says.

Harry doesn’t answer, although out of the corner of my eye I think I can see her turning slightly pink.

“You’ve read them all, haven’t you?” I say.

“Uh-huh,” Harry replies, staring down at her pedals.

“They’re good, aren’t they?” Ant says. “Which is your favourite?”

“Um, I don’t know,” Harry says.

“You never shut up about how your favourite is book three,” I say. What is going on with my sister? “Harry even does magic, don’t you?” I persevere.

Harry shrugs.

“Wow, magic. That’s pretty cool,” Ant says. “Can you show me some?”

“Um, maybe,” Harry says. “I haven’t got any of my stuff with me at the moment, though.”

“Maybe when we get back?”

“Yeah, I guess that should be fine,” Harry mumbles.

How weird. Under most circumstances Harry would kill for a captive audience to show off her magic skills to.

“Right, lads, that tyre’s sorted. Let’s go,” Dave calls. “Follow me.”

We follow the group of boys into the wood. The tracks are wide enough to ride two abreast. Isabella’s with Blond Boy, whose name turns out to be Tom. He says the other lads are Joe, Matt and Tim. Son-of-Dave-and-brother-of-Ant is Ben, who immediately starts talking to Millie. Ant’s riding alongside Harry and the rest of the boys are riding up front with Dave.

I’m left by myself, right at the back, struggling to join the conversations the others are having.

“So are you guys here on holiday?” I hear Isabella ask, like she doesn’t know.

“Yeah, we’re doing adventure sports for Ben’s birthday,” Tom replies. “Dave agreed to take a bunch of us away for a few days. So far we’ve done night orienteering, abseiling, coasteering and hung out.
It’s been a right laugh.”

“We are going to stay on the path, aren’t we?” I say nervously, as up ahead Dave veers into the forest.

I’d only intended Millie to hear, but Isabella replies. “Don’t be so boring. We’ll be fine. The boys aren’t going to take us anywhere too dangerous, are you?”

Tom laughs. “I’m not making any promises.”

Before long I’m falling even further back, wrestling with my pedals. It seriously feels like I’m pedalling through sand. Is my bike broken? I keep fiddling with the gears, but apart from making a few scary clanking noises, nothing seems to be happening. And my bum is so sore. Every bump I go over, pain shoots up both bum cheeks and down my thighs.

Murphy’s having a fantastic time, sniffing every tree, stick and stump. Tom, Ben, Isabella, Millie, and even Harry and Ant, are chattering away and I’m feeling seriously left out. Everyone’s having fun, apart from me. Well, and the skinny boy who looks like he’s hating his bike as much as I am.

As we’re cycling through the wood, bumping over tree roots and rocks, we pass a series of cave openings. Most of them are covered with railings, but one of them is open, a dark mouth in the hillside.

“What’s that?” Isabella asks.

“A cave from when they used to do mining around here,” Tom says. “We checked it out on our walk the first
night we were here. It’s huge. Would be a great place for a party.”

“Talking of parties, are you guys doing anything for the talent show?” I call. Yeah, okay, so it’s a tenuous link, but I need to get in on this conversation.

The boys snort. “As if,” Ben says. “That’s all kinds of lame. Oh… wait. You’re not, are you?”

“Um, well…” I mumble, wondering if I’ve said the wrong thing, then Isabella jumps in.

“I’m choreographing these two an amazing routine to a Drifting song,” she says. “You should come along and watch. They’re going to be amazing.”

“Well, if you’re going to be there, maybe it’ll be laugh,” Tom says.

“It will be,” Isabella says. “Millie’s doing really well, but Suzy’s having a few problems. If she doesn’t improve by Saturday, it’ll be hilarious.”

Fantastic. Thanks so much, Isabella.

I’m about to open my mouth to protest when Dave calls, “This way,” and shoots off the path, down a sloping bank.

“Woohoo!” yell Ben and Tom. Even Millie’s squealing with delight.

I want to yell too. Something with four letters, preferably.

I’m going way faster than I’m comfortable with and I hate this. Hate it, hate it. I could kill Isabella, with her stupid ideas. And now we’re schlepping up the other side of the bank, onto a massive hill that’s going on forever and my legs are burning with pain and—

“Look, don’t take this personally, but you’re kind of holding us back,” I hear Tom say. “We’ll go on ahead and catch up with you later on, yeah?”

“Oh. Okay. Bye, then…” Isabella calls as the boys pedal off, Ant trailing after them. She’s obviously disappointed. “I bet that was because of you,” Isabella hisses at me crossly as I catch up with them. “You came down that hill at the speed of some old granny.”

I’m saved by the sound of Isabella’s phone chiming.

“Mobile reception!” Isabella screeches.

I grab my phone from my pocket and wait impatiently for it to come on. Three bars! I’ve got three whole bars!

The bing-bong text receipts from Isabella’s phone go on and on.

“How many messages have you got?” Millie asks enviously. Her phone’s only gone a couple of times.

Isabella’s scrolling through her messages at about ninety miles an hour, wincing and laughing and tapping back answers at top speed.

“Um, a hundred and three,” she says. “I need to reply
to some of these. You guys are going to have to wait a bit.”

I stare down at my phone. Still no messages. Not one… oh wait. A message! It’s from Danny!

Really? I’ve been away for days and all I get is one message. And that’s what it says?

I’ll try to give him a ring. I haven’t spoken to him in ages and I really want to hear his voice. I press the green call button, but the phone just rings. There’s no answer.

I try again. Still nothing.

Sighing, I stick my phone back in my pocket. Isabella’s still got her head bowed over the phone, her thumb moving in a speedy blur as she types out texts.

“How much longer are you going to be?” Harry whines.

“I’ve missed loads,” Isabella mutters. “I think my friends were on the verge of putting out a missing person announcement for me. I’ve never been without my phone for so long. Never!”

“Even when you were a baby?” Harry asks.

Isabella rolls her eyes and doesn’t reply. I’m smirking, but don’t let her see.

“Okay, we can go,” Isabella eventually says.

We set off again, legs pumping hard as we struggle to make it up the hill. I’m on the point of thinking I’m going to either pass out or die because my lungs have exploded when we finally reach the top of the slope.

“Tyre tracks,” Isabella says, pointing to the ground. “They went this way.”

Now we’re on a downhill strip of path again. Ah, this is much better. My bum’s still painful, but I’m not feeling like I want to keel over any more. We’re freewheeling pretty fast, but actually, it’s kind of okay seeing the scenery whizz past. Downhill is good.

“Hole!” Millie calls, veering around a big dip in the ground. But I’ve been so busy daydreaming I don’t register what she’s said until it’s too late. I slam on the brakes, but my front tyre has dipped. Before I know it, the bike’s flipped forwards and I’m flying through the air.

I put my hands out to brace myself against the impact and my wrist buckles underneath me.

Oh, oh, oh, it hurts, it hurts so bad!

There are spots in front of my eyes and I think I’m going to pass out…