I was the first one to get to Grace’s house, followed five minutes later by Hannah and Dean. I was in her cellar, setting up a game of pool, when they walked in. Dean gave me a funny look.
‘We just called for you and you is already here,’ he said.
‘Yeah – we knocked for ages and no one answered,’ said Hannah.
I shrugged. ‘You didn’t tell me that you were gonna call for me,’ I replied.
‘Yeah, but we never do,’ said Hannah. ‘Your mum out or something?’
I nodded. ‘Yeah – she’s gone away with—’
‘She got a new man?’ asked Hannah.
I was about to tell her the truth but something in my head stopped me and I told her a lie instead.
‘Nah . . . she’s with an aunt.’
‘Oh, right . . .’
Dean took the cue from my hands and broke off a new game. ‘Enough chit-chat – time to get beat at pool by the Number One,’ he announced.
Grace looked at Hannah and smirked. ‘More like a Number Two,’ she said, giggling.
Dean shook his head. ‘See how you go on, Sister Gee? And I’m so nice to you too.’
Grace grinned.
‘I’m soooo sorry, Deany-Beany-Boy. I didn’t mean to upset you,’ she teased.
‘Yeah – don’t have a tantrum,’ said Hannah.
‘Just watch the master at work,’ Dean replied.
Hannah looked at Grace. ‘He used to throw tantrums at junior school. Like if he was tryin’ to talk to you and you didn’t listen – he used to cry like a baby.’
‘No! I don’t believe you,’ replied Grace. ‘Not big bad Dean.’
‘You two are bad,’ I told them.
‘Don’t bother me, bro,’ said Dean. ‘Least I grew up. Hannah still goes on like a baby and as for Grace . . .’
‘Grace ain’t a baby,’ I told him.
‘You tell him, Jit!’ said Grace, smiling at me.
Dean handed me the cue and shook his head slowly. ‘You’re supposed to back me up,’ he told me. ‘You’ll be wearing skirts next, bro.’
‘Oh shut up, you moron,’ said Hannah. ‘Don’t listen to him, Jit – he’s just stupid.’
‘Least I ain’t got a fat ass,’ said Dean, winking at me.
Hannah grabbed the cue out of my hands and pointed it at Dean.
‘I’m gonna shove this cue right up your fat ass!’
‘I do wish you’d get over this fixation with Dean’s bottom,’ said Mr Parkhurst, appearing at the foot of the stairs.
Everyone laughed except Hannah, who went bright red. Grace’s dad was always catching her out just as she was threatening Dean. It happened so often that it was getting silly.
‘I’m sure that there are therapists who can help,’ continued Mr Parkhurst.
‘I was only—’ began Hannah, going red again.
‘Oh, Dad – stop teasing her,’ Grace told him.
Mr Parkhurst looked at me and Dean and winked.
‘Looks like I’ve been told,’ he said. ‘Now who wants to help me sort out dinner?’
I shrugged and looked at Dean, who shook his head.
‘I got this disease, Mr Parkhurst,’ he replied. ‘Summat ’bout how I can’t do no housework ’cos it might kill me . . . Nohelpyitis or something.’
Grace’s dad laughed.
‘Sounds nasty,’ he said. ‘Is it contagious . . . like those spots you seem to get regularly?’
‘NAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’ I shouted. ‘Dissed by the old man!’
‘DAD!’ shouted Grace, trying not to laugh too much.
Dean shook his head, picked up another cue and went back to playing pool.
‘What are we having for dinner?’ asked Hannah.
‘Sausage and mash,’ beamed Grace’s dad. ‘Made by my own hand.’
‘But Hannah and I are vegetarians,’ protested Grace.
‘Yes, I know that,’ replied her dad. ‘That’s what the veggie sausages are for.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Grace. ‘I like those.’
Hannah looked at Grace. ‘Are they nice?’ she asked.
‘Mmmm!’ Grace replied like a little girl.
Dean snorted. ‘Surely you shouldn’t eat sausages if you’re vegetarian,’ he said.
‘But they’re made of soya and stuff,’ said Grace. ‘There’s no meat in them, stinky boy.’
‘Yeah – I know that,’ said Dean. ‘But sausages are normally meat, right? So if you were a grass eater – why would you want sausages? I mean – you don’t get vegetarian steak and kidney, do yer?’
Grace looked at him like he was mad. ‘But that’s what we just said . . . that’s why they’re vegetarian.’
Dean shook his head. ‘I just reckon you’re desperate to eat meat, only you’ll look silly because you’re always goin’ on about animals and that.’
‘God! Sometimes you’re so . . .’ began Hannah.
‘So, instead you eat vegetarian sausages and pretend that they’re really made of pork or beef or . . .’
‘OK! shouted Grace’s dad, grinning even wider. ‘Let’s just get them cooked, shall we? You can have a debate about them afterwards.’
I looked at Mr Parkhurst and smiled. ‘Would you like me to help you?’ I asked.
‘Would you like me to help you?’ mimicked Hannah.
‘Yeah – can I be captain licky bum, sir?’ added Grace.
Dean shook his head again and looked at me.
‘Witches,’ he said. ‘You get me?’
By the time Imtiaz and Suky turned up, together, the food was ready. Mr Parkhurst had piled a load of sausages onto two separate plates, one for meat and the other for non-meat. I helped him take everything through to their dining room, which was almost the same size as the whole ground floor of my mum’s house. The gang were sitting round the table, waiting, and Dean was teasing Suky. Grace’s dad asked him why.
‘They’re bumping uglies,’ Dean told him.
‘I’m sorry?’ asked Mr Parkhurst, looking confused.
‘Dean means that Imi and Suky are going out with each other,’ explained Hannah.
Mr Parkhurst smiled. ‘Excellent!’ he said. ‘I always knew there’d be a couple amongst you . . . too much bickering for there not to be,’ he said.
I didn’t have a clue what he meant but I nodded anyway and smiled. Imi tried to change the subject.
‘Where’s your mum, Grace?’
‘She’s away for the weekend with work,’ replied Grace.
‘Don’t change the subject, Lover Bwoi!’ shouted Dean.
‘Oh shut up!’ Suky told him. ‘You’re such a little boy sometimes.’
‘Man,’ corrected Dean. ‘Ain’t no boy sitting here.’
‘You looked in the mirror lately?’ replied Suky.
‘Yeah – unlike you . . . did you even brush your hair this morning?’ countered Dean.
Suky gave him a death stare.
‘Enough . . .’ said Grace’s dad. ‘Let’s eat before my mountain of mashed potato goes cold.’
He told everyone to help themselves and went to get some gravy.
‘Fool!’ whispered Suky to Dean.
‘Tramp . . .’ replied Dean.
‘Just eat your food, will you,’ Grace told them. ‘You can have a fight afterwards.’
Dean shrugged.
‘We need to talk to you all later anyway,’ said Imi, looking at Suky.
‘’Bout what?’ mumbled Dean, spitting food everywhere.
‘URGH!! Dean!’ shouted Suky.
‘Sorry,’ he said, after he’d swallowed what was left.
‘Dutty, nasty little bwoi,’ said Hannah.
Dean shoved half a sausage into his mouth and chewed it really fast.
‘So, what you need?’ I asked.
‘Just . . . well . . .’
‘Lessons in lurrve?’ asked Dean, spitting more food out.
‘Sorry, Sister Gee,’ he said, not meaning it.
‘We’ll tell you in a bit,’ said Suky, looking at me.
I expected her to look away but she didn’t. Instead she kept her eyes on mine for another few moments and in the end it was me who looked away.
‘This food’s great, Mr Parkhurst,’ said Hannah, as he returned from the kitchen.
He sat down and piled a load onto his plate. ‘Call me Michael, please,’ he said.
I saw Dean grin and knew exactly what was coming.
‘How ya’ doin’, Michael Please?’
Grace’s dad looked at me, picked up a vegetarian sausage and threw it at Dean, who ducked. The sausage flew past his head and landed on a side table, next to a pair of glasses and a lamp. We all looked at each other in shock and then started laughing.