Girls in Tears Read online

  'I think Nadine's mad. Though maybe Ellis is fantastic. I don't know. I don't care. I'm not friends with Nadine and you any more,' I say.

  But I don't really mean it. And Magda knows I don't mean it too.

  'Can't we forget all the stuff about you and me and Russell just for tonight, Ellie? Will you come with me to London? I know where they're meeting and at what time. I thought we could maybe get there early and watch out for weird guys and then kind of keep an eye on Nadine. Maybe we could try to sit behind her at the cinema? Though obviously we don't want her to spot us. Look, if you won't go with me I'll go on my own. But the weirdos might home in on me if I'm by myself. Ellie, will you come with me? Please? Please?'

  Chapter Sixteen

  Girls cry when

  they're sorry

  Sixteen

  Girls cry when

  they're sorry

  I say yes. What else can I do? I hate Nadine, I hate Magda even more. I never want to be friends with them again. And yet under all this I love Nadine, I even love Magda, and I want to be their friend for ever and ever and ever.

  It's difficult getting away, though. I tell Anna an elaborate story about making it up with Magda and Nadine. I say we're going to this Xanadu showing up in town to celebrate, and fib that Magda's dad is taking us.

  Anna folds her arms and shakes her head. 'If you're too sick to go to school you're too sick to go out tonight, Ellie.'

  'But you didn't mind one bit about me being sick when you needed me to fetch Eggs from school.'

  'Absolutely. I'm all in favour of dramatic recoveries when it's to help me do an honest job. However, I've got a heart of stone when it comes to nights out with your friends. I thought they were your deadly enemies now, anyway. Especially Magda.'

  'Well, like I said, we've made it up.'

  'There! I told you you would,' says Dad, coming into the kitchen. He gives me a quick hug. I breathe in his warm oil-painty smell. For once I don't wriggle away from him.

  'Yes, you're nearly always proved right, Dad,' I say.

  Anna raises her eyebrows in disgust, knowing what's coming. I feel guilty playing such a low-down trick but this is an emergency.

  'Dad, Magda still feels a bit bad about things. She's talked her dad into taking us up to London tonight so we can see this special showing of vintage Xanadu episodes. I can go, can't I?'

  'Of course you can go,' says Dad.

  'I've just said she can't,' says Anna.

  'Well, I've just said she can,' says Dad.

  'Oh, for God's sake! Do you have to fight me over everything? says Anna, and she burst into tears.

  I feel guiltier than ever, but I have to take advantage of the situation. I pull my jacket on, grab my bag and make a dash for it.

  I meet Magda at the station as arranged. She's wearing her red sweater, short skirt and stiletto heels and is attracting a lot of attention.

  'I thought the entire point of this exercise was us blurring into the background so we can keep watch over Nadine without being spotted. Well ha ha. You might as well be walking round with a spotlight on you in that get-up. And suppose they go off for a walk together? You can't walk the length of the road in those silly stilettos. Maybe that's how you came to be lying on the stairs at the party? You simply fell over?'

  Magda looks stricken. 'Oh, Ellie, I'm sorry. I forgot I was wearing this outfit on Saturday. Oh God, I feel so dreadful—'

  'Good! Because I do too. But let's forget about the party for the moment and get up to London. What are we going to do if Nadine's on the platform? Kid her we're the best of chums going on a girls' night out?'

  'She won't be. We're going extra early to avoid her. But . . . can't this be a kind of girls' night out? Please let's make friends, El. If you'll only let me explain properly—'

  'I'm warning you, Magda. Just shut up about the bloody party.'

  She doesn't. She goes on and on and on about it all the way on the train. I make out I'm not listening. I put my hands over my ears but Magda simply raises her voice. I go and sit in another carriage but she follows me. She sits down beside me and puts her arm through mine, trying to anchor me into my seat.

  'I'm going to make you listen if it's the last thing I do,' she says.

  'It will be the last thing you do because I'm going to throw you right out that window if you dare start talking about you and Russell. Can't you understand? It's too painful,' I say, trying not to cry.

  'It's painful for me too, Ellie,' says Magda. She's nearly crying too, her eyes brimming. 'I feel so terrible. I didn't mean to. Russell didn't either. It just kind of happened without us realizing.'

  'Oh, like there was this extraordinary magnetic force that sucked you both up and hurtled you towards each other and stuck you together, tongue to tongue?'

  'It wasn't the fact that it was Russell. It could have been anyone. He just happened to be there. It was the same for him. It wasn't me he wanted. He doesn't even like me, Ellie, you know that.'

  'Yeah, he was acting like you thoroughly repel him on Saturday night.'

  'That's all he thinks I'm good for,' says Magda, her face crumpling. 'That's what all the boys think. Look, I was feeling really, really fed up at that party. I know I was laughing and joking but underneath I felt lousy, really cheap. I heard all the things they were whispering about good old Magda. Meaning bad old Magda. I don't know what to do. I like dressing up and looking sexy and having guys stare at me, of course I do – but they never seem to want to know me.

  'I tried having a swig of that vodka but it didn't make me feel better, it made me feel worse. I started feeling really sorry for myself. I went to the bathroom and sat on the stairs and had a little weep about it, wondering why all my relationships go wrong. Well, I don't even have relationships. Even Greg has gone off me now because I won't go further than kissing. Then I started thinking about little Fudge and what it must have been like for her, having sex for the first time and getting all confused and depressed and running away and then suddenly falling and falling . . . OK, I was pretty maudlin. Then Russell fell over me on his way back from the bathroom and he heard me sobbing. He thought he'd hurt me so he sat down beside me and put his arm round me, just to comfort me. I howled ridiculously about Fudge. He said he hadn't realized I was such a softie at heart and then he practically started crying and said some stupid stuff about you and then—'

  'What stupid stuff?'

  'Oh, you don't want to know. He didn't mean it. He was just a bit drunk—'

  'Magda. Tell – me – what – he – said.'

  'He said you thought you were absolutely it now because this artist lady had written you a letter and how you had a cheek saying he copied you and he'd wanted to be an artist all his life and he couldn't help feeling his artwork is better than yours simply because he's two years older than you and works harder at it and is maybe a bit more naturally talented.'

  I say something incredibly rude.

  'I knew you didn't want to hear,' says Magda.

  'He's so jealous. It's pathetic,' I say.

  'Yeah, well, he's a bloke, isn't he? They don't like it if you're better than them.'

  'So, do you think my artwork is better than Russell's?'

  'Of course I do! And Russell realizes it is too. That's why he's going on about it so much. Oh, Ellie, you are dense at times. Anyway, he was bleating on about this, and I was blubbing about my little Fudgypops, practically lying on Russell's chest. I was just using him like a pillow, honestly. But then I moved and he moved and I swear I don't know how – it was pitch-black, remember, so we couldn't see what we were doing – but what we were doing was kissing.'

  'Stop right there!' I say. And then, 'Why didn't you stop right there?'

  'I know. If only we had. But it just felt so nice, Ellie, that I couldn't quite bring myself to stop. I thought Greg was a good kisser but your Russell is fantastic.'

  'He's not my Russell any more. He's yours.'

  'No he's not! He doesn't want me. He's nuts