Girls Out Late Read online

  But for just about the first time in my life I can’t face talking to my two best friends. I know they’d be sweet to me, but it would be just so humiliating, especially after showing off about Russell so at school and writing that stupid poem . . .

  I can understand why Nadine would barely talk to me when she was so cut up about Liam. He was a hateful pig who just wanted to have sex with her – but at least he went out with her lots of times and made her think she was really special. Russell couldn’t be bothered to go out with me once.

  I go upstairs to bed very early, wanting to be well out of the way before Dad comes home. In my bedroom, I take out my sketchbook. I look at the portrait of Russell. Then I take my fattest blackest crayon and scribble all over it, again and again until it’s just a black crumpled mess. Then I pull it out of the book and tear it into tiny little shreds and empty them out of my window. They flutter into the night air like black confetti.

  Right, I’ve torn him up. Now I shall forget all about him. He’s not worth another thought.

  I know this. But I do think about him. Half the night. I have a lie-in until really late in the morning, huddling right down under the covers so I can’t see the daylight. I dimly hear the telephone ringing. Then Anna’s light footsteps.

  ‘Phone for you, Ellie.’

  For one lunatic second I wonder if it could possibly be Russell ringing to apologize – and then I remember he doesn’t know my number, he doesn’t even know my full name.

  It’s Magda.

  ‘Were you still in bed? So you had a seriously late night with the divine Russell, right?’

  ‘Wrong,’ I mumble.

  ‘What? Oh, is your dad around?’ says Magda.

  Dad’s actually out at the swimming baths with Eggs. Thank goodness.

  I mumble something even less intelligible to Magda.

  ‘I can’t hear you! Look, just answer yes or no if your dad’s ear-wigging. Did you have a good time with Russell?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Oh, so you had a bad time with Russell?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, make up your mind!’

  ‘Look, I can’t talk about it, Mags.’

  ‘Well, meet me this afternoon, OK? And Nadine?’

  ‘I’m not allowed out. Dad won’t let me,’ I say, and I put the phone down.

  ‘Your dad will let you go out with Magda and Nadine,’ says Anna.

  ‘I don’t feel like it anyway,’ I say, and I droop back up the stairs.

  ‘Are you going to have a bath?’ Anna asks.

  I don’t feel like having a bath. I don’t feel like getting dressed. I don’t feel like having breakfast. I don’t feel like having any communication with the outside world ever again. I don’t even want to talk to Anna any more.

  I go back to my rumpled bed and huddle up, my knees under my chin. I wish I still had my old blue special elephant. I wish I was a really little girl again. I wish I still thought boys were stupid mucky creatures who picked their noses and ate it and yanked the arms off Barbie dolls. I wish Eggs didn’t exist and Dad hadn’t met Anna. I wish my mum was still alive.

  My throat aches and my eyes burn and I start crying because I suddenly miss Mum so much even though she died long ago. I cry under the covers for ages. When I eventually crawl out at lunchtime my eyes are sore and swollen. I come downstairs to have bacon sandwiches. Anna has obviously said something to Dad and Eggs. They both stare at me but after one fierce glance from Anna they start nattering on about swimming. Eggs demonstrates his version of freestyle so wildly that his sandwich crusts go flying and he nearly pokes me in the eye. Dad tells him to calm down. Eggs gets wilder. Dad gets cross. Anna intervenes. I let it all wash over me. As if I care about any of this stuff. As if I care about anything any more. It’s not like I’ll ever have a family of my own. It’s obvious no boy is ever going to want to go out with me, let alone form a proper partnership. My first boyfriend Dan was a total nerd. Anorak Boy with a capital A, and yet even he fell out of love with me. And Russell couldn’t even be bothered to turn up on our very first date. I am going to lead a totally solitary unloved uncherished life.

  A tear drips down my cheek.

  ‘Oh Ellie,’ says Dad. ‘I can’t bear to see you so miserable. Look, I’m sorry I wouldn’t let you meet up with this boy yesterday.’

  I glance at Anna. She raises her eyebrows a fraction. I decide it’s safer to say nothing.

  ‘Ellie’s crying,’ says Eggs, unnecessarily.

  ‘Just finish your sandwich, Eggs, and leave Ellie alone,’ says Anna.

  ‘I feel like I’ve overplayed the heavy father role,’ says Dad. ‘You do understand, Ellie, it was just because I care about you.’

  No-one else cares about me. No need to worry about Russell going too far with me, Dad. Russell doesn’t want to get anywhere near me.

  I don’t say any of this. I simply sniff.

  ‘Anna says you told Magda I wouldn’t let you meet up with her this afternoon. Ellie, I’m not that mean. You can go out with your girlfriends, for goodness’ sake.’

  I just shrug and shrink back into my bedroom.

  But Magda and Nadine don’t give up on me that easily. There’s a knock at the door ten minutes later. Magda. And Nadine. Dad answers the door and walks right into it.

  ‘Oh, Mr Allard! Look, we’ve come round to plead with you,’ I hear Magda say.

  ‘We know you’re cross with Ellie. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what was going on straight away. It’s partly my fault,’ says Nadine.

  They badger and flirt and flutter. Dad is clearly enjoying the situation and lets them carry on for ages. Then he pretends to weaken.

  ‘Well, girls, I’d hate to spoil your afternoon. OK, you’ve persuaded me. Ellie can go out with you.’

  They squeal gratefully then come bounding upstairs. Magda clatter-clatters in her platforms, Nadine bounce-bounces in her trainers. They barge into my bedroom like two knights in armour rescuing a princess. I feel more like the loathsome monster.

  They show off about their supposed victory and I try to act grateful.

  ‘Though actually I don’t really feel like going out,’ I protest weakly.

  I pretend it’s because I’ve got a bad period. They are as suspicious as Mrs Henderson. They are both peering at my sore eyes and blotchy face.

  ‘Come on, Ellie,’ says Magda. ‘Tell us about Russell. Oh God, didn’t he turn up?’

  ‘You’ve got it,’ I say, and I start sniffing again.

  ‘Oh Ellie, what a creepy mean rotten thing to do. How long did you wait for him?’ says Nadine.

  ‘An hour!’ I wail.

  I tell them all about it. Magda puts her arm round my neck and Nadine puts her arm round my waist and they both pat me sympathetically. Nadine says she thought his eyes were too close together and he had this really seriously shifty look which should have been a warning. But then she’s not one to talk, looking at her and Liam. Magda says he seemed awfully juvenile for his age anyway, just wanting to show off about himself, but she’s no-one to talk either, she went out with Greg who had all the sophistication of Dennis the Menace.

  I start to feel a bit better. Nadine goes to the bathroom, comes back with my flannel and bathes my eyes. Magda whips out her own make-up bag and powders them deep grey and outlines them in black and I now have new eyes and old friends and I feel a lot better.

  ‘Coming out now?’ says Magda.

  Nadine gets my jacket, and off we go, the three of us. I start to wonder why on earth I was so upset over Russell. Boyfriends are OK, but they aren’t a patch on girlfriends who’ve stuck by you and care about you for ever.

  We go down the town to Flowerfields and I actually manage to be funny about a sad little ghost of Ellie still standing waiting there. We wander round the clothes shops for a while, trying on different stuff and hooting with laughter.

  ‘There! I knew you’d cheer up if we took you out,’ says Magda. ‘Forget Russell, forget all boys. They’re