Candyfloss Read online

  She wrote Smelly Chip and Swotty Potty/Pongy Twit and Spotty Botty all over the walls of the girls’ toilets. She wrote other stuff too – too rude to include in this list!

  She jogged the desk whenever I started writing.

  She snatched my best felt-tip pen and stabbed the point on the desktop, ruining it.

  She tipped my packed lunch onto the floor, accidentally on total purpose.

  She tore the cover right off my maths book and scribbled inside it.

  I could continue my list, easily reaching 50. Make that 100!

  But here’s another lovely list:

  Examples of Susan’s Incredibly Sweet and Comforting and Kind Behaviour:

  She kept turning round and smiling at me all through lessons.

  She said Rhiannon was a pathetic parrot repeating the same stupid words over and over.

  She said she couldn’t wait to meet my dad next Saturday.

  She said she wanted to meet my mum when she came back from Australia.

  I told her about the designer denim outfit and she said it sounded embarrassingly awful.

  She tried to rub out all the ‘Smelly Chip and Swotty Potty’ rhymes in the girls’ toilets. They remained clearly visible because Rhiannon had used biro, so Susan got her thickest black marker pen and scribbled right over them.

  She pushed her chair right back against our desk to steady it.

  She lent me her own felt tips.

  We salvaged my banana and my apple and my Kit-Kat, but my special cheese salad sandwiches (Dad was trying hard to think Healthy Eating) spattered all over the floor, grated cheese and tomato slices and little leaves of lettuce covered in dirt. Susan shared her tuna and sweetcorn sandwiches with me, and they were delicious. She also gave me half her apricot yoghurt (taking turns with the spoon) and a little bunch of black grapes. I insisted she have half my Kit-Kat and half my banana and half my apple. We ended up having a total feast.

  After lunch Susan mended my maths book with sellotape while I drew a picture of two girls, one serious with specs and shiny brown hair, one smiling with crazy yellow curls. They were writing an elementary sum on a giant piece of paper: 1 + 1 = 2 BEST FRIENDS. I stuck my picture over Rhiannon’s scribbles and my maths book was as good as new. Better.

  When I had to hand in my maths classwork for marking, Mrs Horsefield smiled and shook her head at the picture. This gave me courage.

  ‘Mrs Horsefield, I was thinking,’ I said earnestly.

  ‘I wish you’d think more about your maths, Floss,’ said Mrs Horsefield, going cross cross cross against each sum.

  ‘Oh dear,’ I said. ‘No, the thing is, Mrs Horsefield, I wonder if I could move desks so I could sit next to Susan? It wouldn’t cause any major disruption, seeing as Susan doesn’t have anyone sitting next to her.’

  ‘What about Rhiannon?’ said Mrs Horsefield.

  ‘I think she’ll be very very pleased not to have me sitting next to her,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, I gathered you two have fallen out big time,’ said Mrs Horsefield. ‘You girls! You have more dramas than a soap opera.’

  ‘So . . . is that a yes?’ I said.

  ‘I’m going to have to think about it. If I let you change desks I’m going to have a whole posse of little girls wanting to swap places. Probably half the boys will start too.’

  ‘Oh please, Mrs Horsefield.’

  ‘Look, I’ve already done you and Susan an immense favour yesterday. You can’t trade on being my special favourites, you know.’

  ‘Are we?’

  ‘I’m a very good teacher and we all know very good teachers don’t have class favourites, but if I did, you two might be contenders. Now, run along. I’ll have a little think about you and Susan and your seating arrangements. Meanwhile, see if she’s any better at teaching you maths than I am!’

  Susan did try and show me stuff but my mind wouldn’t stay still and concentrate properly. We’d start on this sum about six men digging a hole in a field. I’d wonder why they were digging this hole. Was it going to be a swimming pool? I saw them in dusty jeans, digging like crazy, and then one of them got a hosepipe and filled up the pool with sparkly water and they all stripped off and jumped in, splashing each other and spouting water like whales . . .

  ‘So what do you think the answer is, Floss?’ Susan asked.

  I stared at her, because I’d forgotten all about the question.

  Susan sighed and rolled her eyes, imitating Mrs Horsefield. ‘Could you just concentrate, Floss?’

  ‘I’d much sooner concentrate on you coming round next Saturday, Susan. We’ll be in a bit of a mess because Dad and I are moving out on Sunday.’

  It still didn’t seem real. Nowadays I kept getting this weird feeling that my home life had turned into the longest oddest dream. I felt like a boat that had lost its anchor, and now I was bobbing out to sea and the waves were getting bigger and bigger. It felt much safer when I was at school, because that mostly stayed the same.

  I was late for school that morning. Ten whole minutes. I crept into the classroom and whispered to Mrs Horsefield that I was very sorry. She wasn’t really cross, but she did shake her head and sigh at me. It made me feel really bad.

  ‘You’re such a teacher’s pet, Smelly Chip,’ Rhiannon hissed. ‘Anyone else would have got really told off. It’s just because old Horsey’s sorry for you. That’s the reason anyone’s ever nice to you. That’s why my mum made me invite you round last Saturday. I didn’t want you to come. You’re no fun. You’re a total loser, just like your sad fat Smelly Belly Chip dad.’

  ‘You shut up about my dad,’ I hissed.

  She didn’t shut up. She said it again. She added bits, poking at me with her ruler. I suddenly snapped. I grabbed the ruler and poked her back hard, right in the ribs.

  ‘Ooow!’ Rhiannon screamed.

  Mrs Horsefield got to her feet. ‘For goodness’ sake! Stop that screaming, Rhiannon!’

  ‘I’ve been stabbed,’ Rhiannon shrieked.

  ‘Let me have a look,’ said Mrs Horsefield, sighing. She came over to our desk and looked at Rhiannon’s front. She pressed gently all round Rhiannon’s waist.

  ‘I think you’ll survive this savage attack, Rhiannon,’ she said. She picked up the ruler. ‘I take it this was the weapon involved?’

  ‘It hurt!’ said Rhiannon.

  ‘I’m sure it did,’ said Mrs Horsefield. She looked at me. ‘Were you the culprit, Floss?’

  I nodded. I thought Mrs Horsefield would shake her head and sigh at me and maybe tell us both off a little bit, but it wouldn’t be serious. But she didn’t shake her head or sigh. She put her hands on her hips and looked very very very serious.

  ‘Flora Barnes, I’m ashamed of you,’ she said coldly. ‘I’m very disappointed that you’re behaving so badly nowadays.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Horsefield,’ I whispered.

  ‘Sorry isn’t good enough. I can’t keep making excuses for you. You waltz into the classroom ten minutes late, and you don’t concentrate properly when you are here. I’m going to have to think of a serious punishment.’

  I bent my head, burning all over. I wanted to lay my head on my desk and weep. I felt so awful. I couldn’t understand why Mrs Horsefield was so very angry with me.

  ‘Please, Mrs Horsefield, I have a strong feeling Floss was provoked,’ said Susan.

  ‘You be quiet, Susan. Nobody asked your opinion,’ said Mrs Horsefield, totally snubbing her.

  Rhiannon was still groaning theatrically, rubbing her ribs, but her eyes were glittering. She was hugely enjoying our humiliation.

  ‘Poor Rhiannon,’ said Mrs Horsefield. ‘I won’t have you teasing and tormenting her any longer, Flora. Gather up all your books and pens and pencils, please. Put them all in your school bag and stand up.’

  I stared at Mrs Horsefield. Was she sending me to the head for the whole day? Was she suspending me? Was she EXPELLING me?

  The whole class was silent, stunned. Even Rhiannon looked startl