Best Friends Read online

  I blinked at Grandad. 'Who?'

  Grandad shook his head at me. 'Who do you think? Come on, Gemma, who do you have the most fun with?'

  I knew who Grandad was getting at. But I wasn't in the mood for fun.

  We were back in our bed and breakfast early to get a good night's sleep before the long journey home the next day. I had a very bad night's sleep.

  Grandad gave me a very serious talking to before 193

  we went to collect Mrs Cholmondly It was a funny name. It was spelled Chol-mond-ly but for some weirdo reason it was pronounced Chumly.

  'Now, you are to behave yourself utterly with Mrs C,' said Grandad. 'One complaint from her and I'll be out of my job altogether. Now, Mrs C is a sad old lady. She's hurt her knee so she's probably in a lot of pain and feeling fussed and worried. She might be a bit sharp or snappy with us. You must not give her any cheek back. You must try to be understanding. You're basically a very kind little girl. I know you'll try your best.'

  Grandad looked so anxious I put my arms round his neck.

  'Don't worry, Grandad. You're a very kind big man to take me all the way up here, especially as I mucked it all up anyway. I swear I'll be good to Mrs Chummywhatsits. Your job will be safe, I swear it will.'

  I felt like swearing all the way home. Mrs Cholmondly was not the slightest bit chummy.

  Grandad picked her up on the exact dot of nine o'clock next morning but she greeted him with a very sharp, 'So there you are! I've been waiting and waiting. It's simply not good enough. Well, come along, jump to it now you're here. I have a great deal of luggage.' She paused to draw breath and saw me standing beside the car.

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  'Shoo, little girl, shoo!' she said, waving her crutch fiercely at me. 'Don't you dare scratch that shiny car.'

  'It's all right, madam,' Grandad said quickly. 'She's my granddaughter. She's coming with us.'

  Mrs Cholmondly banged the floor with her other crutch, so nearly over-balancing that Grandad had to grab hold of her. She shook him off furiously.

  'She is certainly not coming with me. I'm not paying an extortionate amount of money for you to give free rides to half your family'

  I looked at Grandad helplessly. What were we going to do now? Maybe he should have hidden me in the boot as this Old Boot was proving so difficult.

  But Grandad could be Mr Smoothie when he wanted. 'I've brought Gemma with me deliberately, madam. I thought she might prove helpful to you.

  I figured we'd make several stops along the way.

  She can fetch and carry for you and accompany you to the ladies' room. She's here simply to help you and make your journey as comfortable as possible.'

  Grandad smiled at Mrs Cholmondly. Her powdery cheeks and tight little mouth twitched slightly, as if she might be considering smiling back. She didn't go quite that far, but she did summon me to her side with an imperious wave of her crutch.

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  'Come along then, child. Take my arm and make yourself useful. You can help me into the car but you must be extremely careful not to touch my poor knee as it's excruciatingly painful.'

  I felt ready to tug her entire leg off by the end of the journey. She nagged, she moaned, she complained continuously. She took up very nearly all of the big back seat so that I was hunched right up against the window, barely able to move, but she still prodded at me to make sure I made space for her poorly knee. I was making space for a hundred elephants' knees, but did I protest?

  I didn't even mouth a word of complaint when she kicked off her nasty black buttoned old lady shoes and flapped her horrible old lady bunion feet right in my face. I had to help her stuff her warty toes back into her shoes when we stopped at the motorway services. Then I had the most terrible task of all – assist-ing Mrs Cholmondly in and out of the lavatory.

  'Ah, aren't you a kind girl helping Granny?' one lady cooed.

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  I badly wanted to stuff 'Granny' head first down the lavatory pan and pull the chain on her. Instead I simpered sickeningly.

  We drove on, mile after mile. We

  stopped at many service stations because Mrs Cholmondly seemed to have a blad-der the size of a pea. We ate several meals, Mrs Cholmondly complaining bitterly at the standard of the food and spilling soup all down her massive bosom. She made me run for paper napkins and help mop it up. I still didn't say a word.

  'Cat got your tongue?' said Mrs Cholmondly.

  'You're not a very chatty child. I like a kiddie to have a bit of spirit.'

  'Oh, not our Gemma. She's a shy little thing, good as gold,' said Grandad. He then went into a coughing fit. I think he might have been laughing.

  When we eventually bundled the horrible old bag off to her poor daughter's house she fumbled in her bag for her purse.

  'Here, child, this is for your help on the journey,'

  she said, holding out her hand.

  She pressed twenty pence into mine. The price of just one of those dreaded visits to the toilet!

  'Never mind, little darling. She didn't give me anything at all,' said Grandad. 'Well, Gem, this trip has been a learning experience for both of us. I've discovered something on the drive back. I'm not 197

  sure I like it when you're being a good little girl.

  You're much more fun when you're being bad.'

  Grandad didn't tell on me to Mum about the Cake Incident but she could tell the visit hadn't been a total success. Mum and Dad and Callum and Jack were very tactful and didn't ask any awkward questions. Even Barking Mad sidled round and round sympathetically, the soul of canine tact.

  Biscuits' approach was more direct. He came rushing up to me the minute I got into school on Monday.

  'How did you get on, Gemma? Did Alice like her cake? Did it taste yummy?'

  'I don't know,' I said. 'I was dying to try it but it would have meant licking it off Flora's face and I didn't fancy that.'

  Biscuits blinked at me. 'Who's Flora? It was Alice's cake.'

  'Yeah, exactly. Only this foul girl Flora got the cake knife and acted like it was hers and so I shoved her head in it.'

  Biscuits' mouth fell open. 'You are so bad, Gemma!'

  'I don't mean to be. It just sort of happens. And it's so stupid because I spoil everything. Alice and I couldn't make our birthday wish so now I don't see we can ever stay best friends.'

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  'Yeah you can. This boy Tim and me are great mates and yet we only get to see each other on holiday'

  'Alice's mum would never in a million years let me go on holiday with them.'

  'I bet this Flora's mum wouldn't be too keen either! You are one scary girl.'

  'Biscuits . . . you're not scared of me, are you?'

  'Yeah, look, I'm shaking in my shoes,' said Biscuits, wobbling about. 'You're the girl who stalked me right into the boys' toilets and wanted to beat me up!'

  'I didn't really mean it. Well, I don't think I did.

  I was just a little bit mad at the time.'

  'You're always a little bit mad. But that's OK.

  Nobody's perfect.'

  'You're generally quite good at acting perfect.

  How come you're always so nice, Biscuits?'

  'Oh, it's just my ace personality' said Biscuits, grinning.

  'Well, I don't want to spoil things and make you big-headed so I'll shut up now. Shall we practise our Fat Larry project? You can be him, like I said, and I'll read out the recipes while you demonstrate, OK?'

  'I've got a better idea,' said Biscuits. 'We're both going to be Fat Larry. Come round to my house after school. Bring your grandad – my granny specially invited him. Just wait till you see what my mum's got for you!'

  Seventeen

  Biscuits' mum had made me my very own Fat Larry emerald sparkly suit! I clasped it to my chest and danced round with it, the empty green arms wrapped round my neck.

  'Oh Mrs McVitie! It's wonderful! You made it specially for me. You re so kind.

  'Well, Billy said he badly wanted