Chapter 5

‘What’s worse,’ sobbed Jess, ‘is that we’re going to be away for ages – it could be weeks.’

It wasn’t very attractive, this crying business. Her eyes filled with tears, but somehow, so did her nose.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m being disgusting.’

Fred reached up into the tree and picked a leaf. He offered it to her.

‘Wipe your nose on this,’ he suggested.

Jess tried, but the leaf wasn’t quite as absorbent as she had hoped, and only spread slime all over her face. She threw it away. Even nature seemed against them.

‘Here,’ said Fred. He pulled his shirt up and tenderly wiped her face with it. ‘Don’t cry,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s all right.’

He drew her close to him. She laid her head against his chest.

‘Don’t cry any more,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s quite all right. I’ll just . . . I’ll just have to take Jodie, that’s all.’

‘Fred! You pig!’ Jess whirled round, grabbed his shirt and shook him. They wrestled playfully for a moment or two. He was laughing, but more in desperation than anything.

‘Just a joke, just a joke!’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t share a tent with Jodie if I was in Antarctica and my survival depended on it!’

‘It’s not very funny, though, is it?’ Jess sighed. ‘What a totally vile scenario. Everything’s against us.’

‘Well, at least our families aren’t involved in a blood-feud,’ said Fred. They had watched the DVD of Romeo and Juliet quite recently. ‘My mother thinks you’re some kind of princess. In fact, I think she would gladly swap me for you in part-exchange if you were available on eBay.’

‘Your mum is so cool,’ said Jess.

‘Well, she clearly thinks that you’re my only chance of staying out of jail,’ said Fred. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve told your mum about us yet?’ He looked just a tiny bit irritated. It was getting to be a bit of an issue between them.

Jess sighed. She was glad Fred’s mother liked her, and indeed she herself adored the dear lady. But while her own mum had no objection to Fred as an individual, if she knew he had become Jess’s boyfriend, she would immediately reclassify him as vermin and set a boy-trap by the front door, baited with a large piece of cheese.

‘What sort of holiday is it?’ asked Fred. ‘Is it already booked and everything?’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Jess, ‘knowing my mum. She’s very last-minute. She’s got this obsession about taking me on a tour through England and torturing me with history and botany and stuff. We’re heading for St Ives, down in Cornwall, to see my dad.’

‘Ah! Your dad!’ said Fred. ‘But you’ve been wanting to go down and see him for ages. In fact, you’ve bored me to death with the subject recently. And I’m sure the eccentric old chap would love to see you.’

Fred pondered for a moment, then brightened.

‘Hey! Maybe, if it’s not all finalised yet, your mum wouldn’t mind leaving a few days later. So we could go to Riverdene first,’ he said. But he didn’t sound very convinced. ‘At least ask her. Explain the situation. Remind her of my many sterling qualities.’

‘I’ll ask her,’ said Jess with a heavy heart. ‘But don’t expect a miracle.’

‘Well,’ said Fred, ‘my advice is go home, do the washing-up and tell her she’s the best mum in the world. Unfortunately the florists are all closed, but as you said, the world is against us. You could try presenting Riverdene as an educational experience.’

Jess sighed. ‘I’ll try,’ she said. ‘But to be honest, I don’t think there’s a chance in a million of her saying yes.’

‘Never mind,’ said Fred. ‘Just give it your best shot. And text me as soon as you get her reaction. I’ll have to go home and watch something of unsurpassed violence on TV. Ah, where would we be without our visual comfort food? Flesh-eating zombies here I come! But first – may I suggest . . . the goodnight kiss?’

Ten minutes later Jess detached herself, most reluctantly, from Fred’s arms.

‘Send me a text tonight,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll be waiting with ludicrous eagerness.’

‘OK,’ said Jess. ‘Although I’ll have to find my freakin’ mobile first.’

Jess ran up her front path and then looked back. Fred was standing under a street light, watching her. He raised his hand and waved. A little throb of adoration ran through her.

Ah, he even waved more sweetly than anybody else in the world! Jess tore her eyes away, trudged up her front path with a sinking feeling and, having discovered that she’d forgotten her keys, rang the doorbell.

Five seconds later the door was thrown open by her mum. She was actually quivering with rage.

‘Where on earth have you been?’ she yelled. ‘Look at the time! It’s ten past eleven! You disappeared at five o’clock and I’ve heard absolutely nothing since! Not a call, not a text – nothing! For all I knew you’d been strangled! Lying in a ditch, somewhere! I’ve been absolutely beside myself!’

‘Sorry,’ said Jess meekly and shot indoors past her mum as fast as possible, cringing like a dog expecting to be whipped. Her mother would never dream of laying a finger on her, of course – but with a ferocious tongue like hers, a verbal beating-up was far more effective anyway. ‘I’ve just been at Flora’s, that’s all.’

‘Get to bed!’ snapped her mother. ‘I don’t want to hear another word! You’ll be the death of me! I do my very best to look after you, love you, care for you, plan treats for you, and what do I get in return? A kick in the teeth.’

‘Sorry, Mum,’ said Jess, from the top of the stairs. ‘I’m really sorry.’

It didn’t seem the right moment to launch the tricky subject of Riverdene. And it didn’t seem likely that the right moment would arrive for weeks, months or even years.