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It’s Tuesday and I have to do my talk in front of the class. Everyone needs to do it. It has to be two minutes long and be about your best friend. I wrote mine last week, but now I need to think of someone else because Leona Turnbull isn’t my best friend anymore.
We stopped being friends on Friday. We were meant to be going to the end of term disco at the church hall together. When we got there the lady in charge said,
‘I’m sorry, Mary, the disco is only for Brownies. You’re not one, are you?’
‘Naw,’ I said. ‘But no one told me. Can I not come in anyway?’
‘Well, that wouldn’t really be fair to the other girls.’
Leona is a Brownie and she went into the hall. She didn’t say sorry or come back to check on me. The lady in charge had to phone Granpa to pick me up. We only live down the road, but it was past school time so they wouldn’t let me walk home alone. I didn’t want Granpa to find out.
He wasn’t happy about me not getting in.
‘But her pal’s in there,’ he said.
‘Yes, I understand, sir. But it’s Brownies only.’
‘Ye can stick yer disco up yer arse.’
He took me to the shop on the way back so I could get a sweet. He owed me 50p for swearing, but he gave me a whole pound instead. I got a Kinder Egg. The chocolate was good but you didn’t get much of it. I tried to show Granpa the little princess toy that came with it, but he was going on about how annoyed he was with the Brownies. Saying random things, just talking to himself really.
‘Ridiculous way to treat a wee girl... could’ve whacked that snooty woman... Granpa in the jail, that’d be good.’
‘Can we do something tomorrow, Granpa? Like go to M&D’s?’
‘No tomorrow, hen. Too expensive. Maybe for yer birthday?’
‘I was wanting a bike for my birthday.’
‘Might need to be yer birthday and Christmas combined.’
‘It’s not till September, anyway.’
‘It’ll come sooner than ye think. What age will ye be again?’
‘Eight.’
‘Eight going on twenty-eight.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘That ye’re the cleverest girl I ken.’
On Saturday, I went to Leona’s house. Her mum said, ‘Sorry, she’s away out with Hannah.’
I went back again on Sunday.
‘Sorry, Mary, she’s at Hannah’s again. She stayed over last night.’
Leona had always said that her mum didn’t let her stay over at other people’s houses. It wasn’t safe.
Yesterday, Leona did her talk on Hannah.
‘Hannah Hunter is my best friend,’ she said. ‘Because we get on really well and have brilliant sleepovers. We have our own dance routine we did at the Brownie’s disco last week and we both got our dancing badges.’
After the bell went, I said to Leona, ‘D’you want to come round to mine for a sleepover?’
‘Naw,,’ she said. ‘I’m just hanging around with Hannah now. We’re both only hanging around with each other and no one else is allowed.’
Now it’s my turn to talk. Everyone’s staring. Mrs Mills is nodding at me so I need to start. I look at my paper and I’m ready to read out my talk about Leona. Then I think that doesn’t make sense. To be best friends, both of you need to think it.
‘My best friend,’ I say. ‘Is my granpa. His name is Arthur Sutherland. He was born in Kilmarnock.’
People are laughing. Your best friend can’t be your granpa. It’s silly, but I keep talking. I try to think of all the things there are about Granpa that makes him my best friend.
‘Granpa’s looked after me my whole life, mostly. He’s really nice and sometimes we build dens in the living room and play castles. If he says a swear word, he has to give me 50p. It’s our game.’
I’ve run out of things to say. There are other games Granpa and me play, but no one even smiled when I said about the swearing game and they’ll think the other games are stupid too.
‘Mary,’ Mrs Mills says. ‘Are you and your granpa doing anything during the summer?’
‘We might be going to M&D’s.’
People are laughing even more. Leona is laughing and whispering to Paul Reed about something, probably saying that M&D’s is rubbish.
‘Are you going away anywhere on holiday?’ says Mrs Mills.
‘We dinnae really go on holidays.’
‘That’s all right. Does anyone have any questions for Mary about her best friend?’
They’re all just looking at the floor and no one wants to ask me anything. Paul Reed puts his hand up.
‘How can you be best friends with your granpa?’ he says. ‘Your granpa doesn’t count. Did you no have anyone else?’
Everyone bursts out laughing. Leona is laughing. Mrs Mills stares at Paul and points outside and he gets up and goes out to the corridor. My face is hot and I want to take off my jumper to cool down. I’m going to cry and I want to sit down. Mrs Mills nods and starts clapping.
‘Well done, Mary,’ she says. ‘Who’s up next?’
I sit on the floor with my legs crossed. The carpet is old and I pull at it instead of listening to the next person’s talk. I can feel tears going down my cheeks, but I don’t wipe them away. If I wipe them away, then people will notice, but if they dry themselves, people might not know.
I won’t talk to Leona, ever again. I hate her and I’m glad she’s not my best friend. Granpa says hate is a strong word, but I mean it. She’s only friends with Hannah Hunter because she went to the disco and I wasn’t allowed. That is the stupidest reason to be a person’s friend. My best friend can be anyone I want it to be. It can be Granpa if I say so. No one can tell me who my best friend is.
It’s later on and we’re having a chippy for tea.
‘Did ye hear, hen?’ Granpa says.
‘Hear what?’
‘There was a big fight at the chippy tonight.’
‘Oh, dinnae, Granpa.’
‘And d’ye ken what happened to the fish?’
We say it together.
‘They got battered.’
He’s chuffed to bits with his stupid joke. His specs are fogged up from the steam off the chips.
‘How did yer talk go the day?’ he asks me.
‘Aye, fine.’
‘What was it aboot again? Yer best friend?’
‘Actually…’
He gets the tomato sauce out the cupboard and sits it next to my plate. He knows I like to squeeze it out myself.
‘Aye,’ I say, ‘My best friend.’