Girls Out Late Read online

  ‘Russell can look after himself, Dad. He’s not some sad little wimp.’

  ‘He could be Mr Muscles Macho Man. It wouldn’t make any difference if a whole gang started in on him.’

  ‘You’re getting totally paranoid, Dad.’

  ‘Maybe. I don’t know. But how about if you and Russell met up after school and then he went back home around nine?’

  ‘Dad! We’re not Eggs’s age!’

  ‘I know, I know – but you’re as precious to me as Eggs and I don’t need another night like Thursday. Look, you’re still supposed to be in the doghouse for that. I’ll let you see Russell, but I’m going to stick to this nine o’clock curfew for the time being. I think that’s more than fair.’

  ‘I don’t!’

  ‘Well it gets dark by nine – so you couldn’t do any sketching then, could you?’ says Dad, smiling.

  I smile back weakly. I don’t know who’s bluffing who. But at least I can see Russell – even if it’s only in daylight!

  I go up to my bedroom and read his letter again. Several times more. Then I go downstairs and ring Nadine and tell her that it’s all OK and that Russell walked round and round the town looking for me, practically knocking at every house door.

  Nadine isn’t quite as impressed as I’d hoped. She’s got her Claudie album playing full blast (her family are obviously out) and she’s singing along instead of concentrating fully. I need to ask her something.

  ‘Nadine, do you really think Russell looks seriously shifty?’

  Nadine herself sounds as if she’s doing some serious shifting the other end of the phone. ‘No, no, Ellie, not at all. I was just, you know, saying stuff to comfort you. I don’t think his eyes are too close together either. I think it was just his intense expression when he was sketching you.’

  I let it go at that. I ring Magda next. She’s got some great news for me first – her dad has booked three tickets for us to go and hear Claudie next month! ‘There, aren’t you pleased, Ellie? Claudie will cheer you up. He’s not worth it, worth it, worth it, right?’

  ‘Well, maybe he is worth it after all, Magda.’

  I fill her in on all the details, massaging the facts even more impressively, so that I have Russell practically trekking round the entire country looking for me.

  I wait for Magda’s comments. There’s a little silence on the end of the phone.

  ‘So it shows he didn’t just stand me up,’ I say.

  ‘Sorry, Ellie, I’m not quite clear. You mean he stood you up because his dad wouldn’t let him go out?’

  ‘He didn’t stand me up, he wanted to come.’

  ‘But Daddy wouldn’t let him.’

  I don’t like that Daddy bit. I pause. ‘I take it you still think Russell is awfully juvenile, just wanting to show off about himself?’

  I can hear Magda swallowing.

  ‘No, no, well, not Russell in particular. Just most boys in Year Eleven. I mean, they’re better than the pathetic creeps in Year Ten, not to mention Year Nine, but they’re still not exactly . . . mature.’

  ‘So you think that Russell is immature?’

  ‘Oh Ellie, stop being so prickly. I think all boys are immature, full stop. But your Russell is great . . . for a boy.’

  I agree happily, and tell her to thank her dad for ordering the tickets. Some time I am going to have to tackle my dad about coughing up the cash, but maybe it might be better to wait till tomorrow seeing as we have already spent so long negotiating today.

  I decide to put myself in a good light by making him another coffee, even though it’s nearly teatime. I wonder where Anna and Eggs have got to. I have to make sure I get Anna on her own to get her to promise to keep quiet about my sneaking out to meet Russell on Friday night. If Dad knows I deliberately disobeyed him then maybe he’ll stop me seeing Russell altogether. And I have to see him!

  I think about him going round all those houses asking for me. It’s like a fairytale. He’s the handsome prince on the loopy quest: knock three times on every house in this street and the next and then you will find the princess and get to kiss her . . .

  I go into a happy little daze in my bedroom and don’t resurface until I hear the front door.

  ‘Is that you, Anna?’ I shout.

  ‘No it’s just me,’ Dad calls. ‘I was looking down the road to see if there was any sign of them. I don’t know where they’ve got to.’

  ‘Where were they going? Shopping?’ I peer over the banisters at him.

  ‘Ellie! As if Anna would go shopping with Eggs. You know what a pain he can be. No, Nadine’s mum phoned her up.’ Dad pulls a face.

  I giggle. Nadine’s mum is one of those women who seem to spring from their bed fully made-up, hair lacquered into a helmet, armed with a J-Cloth and a Dust Buster.

  ‘Don’t you dare laugh! She’s still very much looking down her pointy nose at me because you were out so late on Thursday, and she doesn’t want you to be a bad influence on her Nadine.’

  ‘Oh God, she wasn’t going on about it again, was she?’

  ‘For a while, yes. But she was also telling Anna about this local photo shoot she’s dragging that showy little sister of Nadine’s to this afternoon – and she wondered if Anna wanted to take Eggs.’

  ‘What? Eggs!’

  ‘I know, I know, I can’t really see the little guy prancing around in front of a photographer myself, but apparently this particular company wanted to find a little boys who look like little boys – that is, filthy dirty and fooling about. It’s for this washing powder where a little girl is all dressed up in a pristine party frock—’

  ‘Natasha!’

  ‘And all these little boys come along and get her to play football with them and then push her over and get her all muddy.’

  ‘Ah, Eggs might be good at that!’

  ‘That’s what Anna thought. He seemed to relish the idea too. And you get paid! So that’s where they went. Only they’ve been gone hours and hours.’

  ‘Eggs probably got too enthusiastic and completely coated Natasha in mud. They might have to hose her down and dry her off and pretty her up again for each take – that would take ages.’

  ‘And meanwhile we’ve got rumbly tummies. I suppose I ought to mosey out into the kitchen and get something started for supper.’

  Dad sounds totally lacking in enthusiasm. He understands the concept of the New Man but has all the laziness and lack of inclination of a very old man.

  ‘I’ll rustle something up, Dad,’ I say cheerily, determined to keep in his good books so that he might just extend this ludicrous nine o’clock curfew.

  I rustle – and hustle and bustle – and we sit down to burnt omelettes and soggy chips.

  ‘This is delicious,’ Dad says determinedly. ‘But the thing is, Ellie, I’m starting to get really worried about Anna and Eggs, so I’ve sort of lost my appetite.’

  It’s only partly an excuse. He does look a bit tense and twitchy.

  ‘They’ll be all right, Dad. This shoot thing will have just gone on for ages. Look, I’ll phone Nadine again and ask her how long these things take.’

  I phone Nadine, but this time Nadine’s mum answers. She doesn’t sound too thrilled when she hears my voice.

  ‘Oh, it’s you, Ellie. I hope you’ve done your best to show you’re sorry for your behaviour last Thursday night. Your poor parents were in a terrible state. And I wasn’t at all happy about you involving my Nadine in your little deception.’

  She rants on in similar vein for ages. I hold the receiver away from my ear, sighing. Eventually there seems to be a little pause.

  ‘I’m really sorry, but anyway, I just wanted to ask—’

  ‘No you can’t talk to Nadine just now, she’s having her supper. You girls! You’re on the phone every two minutes and yet you see each other every day. What? No, Nadine – go back to the table! What’s that, Natasha, pet?’

  ‘Have you and Natasha just got back from the photo shoot?’ I gabble quickly.

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