Cookie (11 page)

I opened my mouth but no sound came out.

‘Look at her, she’s speechless!’ Dad chortled. ‘There, trust your old dad to turn up trumps. Gerry the Fixer, that’s me!’ He turned to Mum. ‘I’ll fix the Water Meadows deal too, just you wait and see.’

‘I know you will,’ Mum said mechanically.
‘So,
Gerry, what about Beauty’s birthday tea?’

‘I’ve thought of that. They’ll have a birthday buffet when they get here. None of that cheese cubes on sticks and jelly and trifle rubbish. This is going to be a dead sophisticated buffet with canapés.’ He ticked each one off on his fingers. ‘Little tartlets and tiny vol au vents, chicken satay, sausages in honey sauce, crispy prawns, the works – and then instead of a birthday cake we’re going to have a profiterole tower.’ He smiled at me. ‘Don’t look so stunned, baby. You’ll love it. Profiteroles are them little chocolate creamy balls – they taste just like éclairs.’

‘But, Gerry, who’s going to make all this stuff?’ said Mum.

‘You are, of course,’ said Dad, and then he roared with laughter, redder than ever, wheezing and spluttering. ‘Your face, Dilly! Dear lord, you’re practically wetting your pants. Calm down, darling, I’m only kidding you. We’re going to get caterers in. They come along and lay it all out, even provide the fancy plates, and then they serve it all too. Won’t that be grand, Beauty? Fancy having a proper waiter and waitress serving all your little friends, treating you all like grown-up ladies. Won’t they be impressed!’

I felt faint. I could just imagine what Skye and Emily and Arabella would say.

‘It’s ever so kind of you, Dad, but won’t it all cost an awful lot of money? You said we’d maybe be poor if your Water Meadows deal doesn’t go through,’ I stammered.

‘It will go through, one way or another. Just you leave it to your old dad. Who am I? Gerry the …?’ He put his hand to his ear, waiting for me to say it.

‘Fixer,’ I whispered.

‘That’s right, little Beauty. There! I bet there’s not another girl in your whole school who will have such a special birthday treat. Aren’t you a lucky girl?’

‘Yes, I’m very lucky,’ I said.

I made myself smile and bounce about though inside I was dying. I didn’t
want
a party. I didn’t want a posh buffet with profiteroles instead of a birthday cake. I didn’t want a fancy stretch limo and front stalls seat at
Birthday Bonanza
. I especially didn’t want all my class at school to come to my party.

I took a deep breath.

‘Dad, it all sounds as if it’s going to be wonderful but I think I’d like it just as much – maybe even more – if I just had
one
friend, say, and you and me and Mum.’

I thought of Rhona and me partying together.

We could feast on our buffet and then swan off to the show in a posh limo, playing we were celebrities. It would be such fun, just Rhona and me …

‘Don’t be daft, Beauty,’ said Dad. He was still smiling but there was an edge to his voice. ‘We don’t want people to think you haven’t got any proper friends.’

‘But I
haven’t
, Dad, not really,’ I mumbled.

‘I saw you just the other day with two lovely little girls – hanging on your arms, they were. And then there’s that other gorgeous kid, the one with all the hair and the big blue eyes.’

Skye
.

‘But Dad—’

‘Stop all this butting! You’re not a little goat! How many girls are in your class?’

‘Nineteen.’

‘Well, you’d better get busy, little Beauty. You need to write out eighteen invitations. You can do it on my laptop or maybe hand-print them yourself, seeing as you’re artistic.’

I hand-printed the first one. I used special purple card and my silver italic pen. I didn’t address it to Skye or Emily or Arabella. I didn’t even address it to Rhona.

I wrote:

Dear Sam and Lily
,

Please come to my birthday party next Saturday. There will be a big buffet for you, Sam, and I’ll make special lettuce sandwiches and carrot cake for you, Lily
.

Love from Beauty xx

I drew a border of little silver rabbits chasing each other all round the edge of the card, and then I put it in a purple envelope and shook little silver hearts inside.

I didn’t post it. I put it in the folder where I kept all my Sam and Lily drawings. Then I sighed deeply and started on the real invitations. Eighteen of them. I used ordinary white cards and envelopes and a blue pen. I drew a birthday cake on each one, even though I wasn’t going to have one. I saved Rhona’s card till last. I used red card for her and a gold pen. I drew four little teddy bears in each corner. I added,
Reginald Redted is of course invited. He can feast on his very own pot of honey
.

Then I thought of everyone opening their invitations at school. They would see that Rhona’s was more elaborate. If they looked at what I’d written they’d laugh at me and think I was weird. I sighed again and wrote a new invitation for Rhona on white card with a birthday cake, identical to all the others.

I gave her the invitation first, when I got to school on Monday morning. I made Reginald Redted hold it.

‘He’s had a good weekend but he wants to live back with you now,’ I said.

‘Is he giving me a letter?’ said Rhona, laughing.

‘It’s an invitation to my party,’ I said shyly.

‘Oh, how lovely!’ said Rhona, opening up the card.

‘What’s that you’ve got, Rhona?’ said Skye, running over to her.

‘Beauty’s asked me to her birthday party,’ said Rhona.

‘Oh,
gross
. Ugly’s having a party. Well, that will be total freaky funtime,’ said Skye. ‘So who else have you invited to your party, Ugly? You’ve got a whole
wad
of invitations there. Just as well, because I bet very few girls will want to go to
your
party.’

‘I want to go,’ said Rhona, as I handed out invitations. ‘What sort of birthday cake will you be having, Beauty?’

‘I’m not having a proper birthday cake,’ I said apologetically. ‘I’m having a profiterole tower.’

‘Oh wow!’ said Rhona. ‘I’ve seen those cakes in a special shop in London. Are you
really
having one?’

‘Yes. But you can’t put candles on them.’

‘Who needs boring old candles?’ said Rhona.

I wanted candles so I could blow them all out in one go and have a proper birthday wish. But my wishes didn’t ever come true, so maybe I didn’t need candles after all.

‘What else are you having to eat at your party apart from this proffy thingy,’ asked Poppy. ‘My mum says I can have proper pizzas when I have my party, with all different toppings.’

‘I don’t think there’ll be pizzas,’ I said. ‘It’s going to be like a buffet. Finger food. Canapés. Little tarts and sausages and stuff.’

‘Canapés!’ said Rhona. ‘How
cool
, just like a real grown-up party.’

‘It sounds totally weird if you ask me,’ said Skye. ‘Are you going to have dancing at your party, Ugly, as you’re such a good dancer –
not
.’

‘No, we’re not having any dancing, Skye,’ I said.

Skye rolled her eyes. ‘So what kind of a dull party is it going to be? Are you all going to sit cross-legged and do spelling tests for fun?’

‘We’re going to the theatre to see
Birthday Bonanza
,’ I said.

‘Oh wow, wow, wow!’ Rhona shrieked. ‘That group McTavish are in that – and Will Forman. They are
so
cool. I’ve been dying to see that show for
ages
but my dad can’t get tickets.’

‘Well, my dad can,’ I said, suddenly proud.

‘So who’s going to
Birthday Bonanza
?’ said Skye, narrowing her eyes. ‘Just you and Rhona?’

‘Dad’s got tickets for everyone,’ I said.

There was a great whoop from all the girls standing around.

‘Am
I
going?’

‘Are we really
all
going?’

‘Are we sitting near to the stage so we can see McTavish and Will really close up?’

‘Dream on,’ said Skye. ‘They’ll be those rubbish seats right at the back where you can’t see a sausage.’

‘We’ve got front-row stalls seats,’ I said. ‘My dad’s fixed it.’

‘So how is everyone going to get there?’ Skye said. ‘I suppose your famous fixer dad has hired a
coach
?’

‘No, he’s hiring a super-stretch limo,’ I said, with a little nod of my head.

Everyone squealed and clapped their hands, even Arabella and Emily. Skye stood there, arms folded, chin jutting.

‘So, is
everyone
invited?’ she said.

I still had her invitation in my hand. I so wanted to tear it into tiny pieces and say ‘Everyone but
you
, Skye.’

She was staring at me, her blue eyes suddenly
anxious
. I hated her, but I still couldn’t do it to her.

‘Of course everyone’s invited, Skye. Even you,’ I said, and I pressed her invitation into her hand.

She didn’t even thank me. She simply glanced at hers and then said in an off-hand manner, ‘I’m not sure I can make it that Saturday anyway.’ But we both knew wild horses wouldn’t stop her coming.

She was still horrid to me all day long. In a way I respected her for that. Emily and Arabella still called me Ugly but they smiled at me in a new silly way and Arabella offered me some of her crisps at playtime. Louise and Poppy started up a
Did-I-like-bears?
birthday-present conversation and some of the girls who hadn’t said a single word to me since I joined the class last year started chatting away as if I was their new best friend.

It felt so weird. Dad really was Gerry the Fixer. I’d longed for them to like me and now it looked as if they did. But it wasn’t
real
. They hadn’t really changed their minds about me, they just wanted to keep in with me so they could come to my party. I smiled and chatted back to all of them but inside I despised them.

I didn’t despise Rhona, of course. She’d been kind to me all along – and she was lovely now.

‘You’re so
lucky
, Beauty! Imagine your dad fixing all that for your birthday!’

‘Yes, Dad’s like that,’ I said.

‘Can I sit next to you in the super-stretch limo, Beauty?’ Rhona asked.

‘Of course. And will you sit next to me in the theatre?’

‘You bet.’ She hesitated. ‘I suppose I’ll have to have Skye on my other side, seeing as she’s my best friend.’

I took a deep breath.

‘Is she
always
going to be your best friend, Rhona?’

Rhona shrugged awkwardly.

‘Well, we’ve been best friends since that first day of infant school and we live in the same road so we
can’t
really break up. I hate it when she’s mean to you. I’ve begged her to stop but she won’t. You know what she’s like.’ Rhona edged closer to me and whispered in my ear. ‘I wish
we
could be best friends, Beauty.’

I nibbled. ‘Oh, Mum, it tastes so good!’ I said, munching.

‘They’re OK, aren’t they?’ said Mum, whirling about the crazy kitchen. ‘I’ve been making them all day long. I found this old American recipe book for twenty-five p in the Oxfam shop. It’s got
heaps
of cookie recipes, but I thought I’d stick to the very basic one to start with – and it’s worked, hasn’t it! I’ve actually made proper cookies. Eventually. I had to do three batches before they came right.’

‘You’re the total Cookie Queen,’ I said, savouring each mouthful. ‘Can I have another one?’

‘Of course you can! I’ll have another too – and then we’ll have to get going clearing up all this mess. Your dad will go nuts if he sees the kitchen like this.’

I went upstairs to take off my blazer and dump my school bag – and then I stared at my Venetian glass mirror. It was glittering and gorgeous, the glass shining. No crack!

‘Mum! You’ve got me a new mirror!’ I shrieked.

‘Yes, it’s been a very hectic day,’ said Mum. ‘I sold that diamond collar thingy your dad gave me for our first anniversary. I only ever wear it for
posh
dances and I hardly ever go to them now. I didn’t really like it anyway. I didn’t like it being a
collar
, like I’m a little dog. Anyway, I got heaps of money for it, enough for a roomful of mirrors, only try hard not to break this one, eh, darling?’