Cookie (7 page)

‘Then I’m sure she’d like it too.’

So we bought her a copy in W H Smith’s, and then we went into the actual Claire shop and bought her three slim silver bangles and then we went to New Look and bought her a pink T-shirt with
Princess
written in silver lettering on the front.

‘There, it all goes beautifully together,’ said Mum. ‘She’ll love her presents, Beauty.’

‘Do you really think so? They’re more interesting than a stuffed teddy bear, aren’t they? That’s what Lulu and Poo-poo are giving her.’

‘She’ll like your presents best, Beauty,’ said Mum. ‘Just you wait and see.’

‘I can’t wear
them
, Mum. They’re yours! They’ll be much too big.’

But when I sat down and put them on they very nearly fitted me. I was alarmed at the thought I had feet as big as my mum’s already. They’d be totally enormous by the time I was grown up. I’d have to wear real clown’s boots, those long ones as big as baguettes.

‘They look great on you!’ said Mum.

‘But they’ve got high heels!’

‘They’re not
that
high. Anyway, it’ll make all the other girls jealous if you’re wearing proper heels,’ said Mum.

I considered this. ‘OK. So how do you walk in them?’ I said, wobbling to my feet. I took one uncertain step and nearly fell over. ‘The answer is, with great difficulty!’ I said, clutching Mum.

‘You’ll be fine, Beauty. You just need to practise,’ said Mum.

I staggered around the bedroom and out onto the landing. I toured my own bedroom, my bathroom, Mum and Dad’s bathroom, Mum’s dressing room and one of the spare bedrooms. I fell over once and twisted my ankle twice.

‘Maybe the heels aren’t such a good idea after all,’ said Mum.

I begged to keep them on, knowing that none of the other girls had proper high heels, not even Skye.

Wonderfully, Dad wasn’t back from his golf game when it was time to leave for the party, so Mum drove me in her little purple Ka. Dad bought it for her on their tenth wedding anniversary. It had purple velvet cushions in the back and two fluffy purple teddies with their arms wrapped round each other and silly smiles sewn on their snouts to show they were in love with each other. I knew for a fact that one colour Mum didn’t care for at all was purple, but she squealed obediently when she discovered the car outside our house. It was tied up with an enormous purple satin ribbon so that it looked like a gigantic Easter egg.

I sat in the back with the canoodling teddies while Mum drove to Rhona’s house. We set off in good time but we ended up arriving ten minutes late. Mum drives very slowly and cautiously. She takes ages edging out onto the main roads, not making a move until there’s not another car in sight. She also got lost twice.

‘I’m sorry, babes, I’m so useless,’ she said, drawing up outside Rhona’s house at last.

There was a big bunch of pink and blue balloons
tied
to the gate to show there was a party going on. The living room glowed rose with pink fairy lights. I saw hordes of girls rushing around, waving their arms and dancing. We could hear the music from inside the car. Skye bobbed into view, flinging back her long silky hair as she step-tapped sideways.

My tummy tightened.

‘I don’t think I really want to go to the party,’ I said.

‘Oh, Beauty! Come on, darling, you’ll be fine once you get inside,’ said Mum, squeezing my hand tightly. ‘You’re going to have a lovely time.’

When I teetered up to the front path in my high heels and knocked at the front door Rhona opened it immediately. She smiled as if she’d been waiting specially for me. She was wearing a red stripy top and a short black skirt. She had red lipstick on too, though it had gone a bit wobbly at the edges.

‘Happy birthday, Rhona! You look lovely,’ I said.

Rhona was blinking at my new corkscrew hair.

‘Wow, Beauty, you look so different,’ she said. She swallowed. ‘
You
look lovely too,’ she said.

Her eyes slid down my blue frills and white pleats. When she saw my shoes her mouth widened in genuine delight.

‘Oh my goodness, look at your
shoes
! Mum won’t let me wear even the weeniest heels, she says I’ve
got
to wait until I’m at least thirteen. Oh you’re so
lucky
!’

I walked in proudly, keeping my legs rigid, willing myself not to wobble.

‘Here’s your present,’ I said, offering it shyly.

I’d spent ages wrapping it up. Rhona didn’t snatch it carelessly or shove it in a corner. She held it carefully, stroking the silver paper and pink satin ribbon.

‘Rhona! Come
on
, it’s the
Don’t Feel Like Dancing
song!’ Skye called from the party room.

‘Just a minute,’ said Rhona.

She undid the ribbon, smoothing it out and then winding it in a little silky ball. She slid her finger under the wrapping paper and eased it off. She slipped the three silver bangles over her wrist and waved her arms so that they jangled. She held her pink
Princess
T-shirt against her, showing that it would fit her perfectly. She opened her book and peered at it politely.

‘Thank you so much, Beauty,’ she said, giving me a big lipsticky grin. ‘They’re wonderful presents.’

‘I’m so glad you like them,’ I said.

We smiled at each other. I wanted to freeze-frame us so we stayed in that magic moment in her hall, on the edge of her party, Rhona and me. But then Skye shouted again and Rhona rolled her eyes at me.

‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Just wait till they all see your gorgeous silver shoes!’

They didn’t notice my high heels at first. They were too busy gawping at my hair. Skye gave an exaggerated double take when she saw me, standing still, hands on hips. She was wearing an even shorter skirt than Rhona and a little black vest top that showed her totally flat tummy. She’d inked a blue star round her belly button that looked almost like a real tattoo.

‘Oh my God, who’s this? Hey, it’s the Corkscrew Kid! Old Ugly Curlynob!’ She got started on my blouse next, pulling the pussycat bow, saying her granny had exactly the same blouse, she’d bought it for ten pence at a jumble sale. Emily and Arabella hooted with laughter.

‘Shut up, Skye,’ said Rhona, but no one could ever shut Skye up.

I turned my back on her and went over to the sofa. An entire
squadron
of teddy bears were squashed up together, jostling each other with their furry paws.

‘Look at Beauty’s fantastic shoes,’ said Rhona.

‘She can’t walk properly in them,’ said Skye. ‘Wiggle-waggle wobble-bum.’

I plonked myself down in the midst of the teddies, blinking hard. The others started dancing – Rhona and Skye, Emily and Arabella, Lulu and
Poo
-poo, everyone. Some girls danced in a little group together. I could have got up and danced with them, but I didn’t. I picked two of the teddies and made them dance instead, up and down the arm of the sofa.

Then they had a singing contest. Skye had given Rhona a karaoke set for her birthday. She had first go to show us how to do it. Skye was brilliant at it of course, using the mic professionally and jigging along to the music. Rhona tried hard when it was her turn but she kept getting the giggles and losing her place. Arabella and Emily performed as a duo and were quite good, jumping up and down and shaking their hips in unison.

‘Whose turn is it now?’ Skye asked.

There was a general clamour of ‘
Me! Me! Me!
’

Skye ignored all of them. She was looking straight at me.

‘You have a go, Ugly Corkscrew,’ she said.

‘No thanks,’ I said.

‘Come on, you’ve got to join in. Don’t be a party pooper,’ said Skye. ‘It’s your go now. Choose your song.’

I’d never even heard of most of the songs. Dad hated all modern pop music, calling it ‘that waily-thumpy rubbish’. He listened to old rock bands from ages ago. I could sing those songs all right, but they weren’t on offer.

I dithered helplessly. Skye raised her eyebrows.

‘Get
on
with it, Ugly. Come on, come on, come on!’ She turned it into a chant. The others started joining in.

‘We’ll sing a duet, you and me, Beauty,’ said Rhona.

Skye frowned. ‘No, let her sing solo. You’ve had a go anyway, Rhona.’

‘Yes, but it’s my party, so I can sing as often as I want,’ said Rhona, smiling sweetly. She scanned the songs on offer. ‘We’ll sing
Baby Boo
.’

She took hold of me and pulled me to the mic. I squeezed her hand.

‘I don’t know it!’ I whispered.

‘You don’t need to. I’ll sing the main bit and you just go
Baby Boo boo boo, boo boopy do
after each line. It’s easy-peasy, Beauty.’

She started the music and sang the line. I mumbled my way through the daft
Baby Boo
refrain. Rhona sang the next verse and then I went through the
Baby Boo
babble again. I realized Rhona was right. It
was
easy-peasy. She got the giggles again in the last verse because there was a whole lot of silly stuff about making you moan, obviously a reference to s-e-x. When Rhona collapsed
I
sang the lines because I knew the tune now. We sang the last line together and yelled the chorus: ‘
Baby Boo boo boo, boo boopy do
,’ finishing with a twirl.

I wobbled wildly in Mum’s heels and clutched Rhona. We both ended up on the floor, shrieking with laughter. The others laughed too, but they were laughing
with
us, not
at
us. Well, Skye wasn’t laughing.

‘I hope you realize what a fool you’re making of yourself, Ugly,’ she hissed. ‘Don’t think Rhona wants to be your friend. She’s just being kind because she feels sorry for you.’

I tried not to take any notice but I worried that she might be right.

I got to sit on one side of Rhona at her birthday tea. Skye sat the other side of course. It was wonderful food: giant turkey-and-bacon-and-salad club sandwiches held together with toothpicks; sausages dipped in tomato sauce; potato wedges with sour cream and salsa dips; four-cheese pizza with pineapple topping; mini burgers with relish and pickles; an enormous trifle with whipped cream and cherries; fairy cupcakes with pink and lilac and baby-blue icing; chocolate fridge cake and a huge birthday cake in the shape of an R, decorated with little silver hearts and crystallized roses.

‘It looks so
beautiful
,’ I said in awe.

‘Oh, my mum loves cooking,’ said Rhona. ‘Let’s tuck in!’

I picked up my plate and started munching.
Rhona
’s mum poured us all glasses of juice – cranberry, orange or raspberry.

‘Which juice would you like, dear?’ she asked me.

‘Cranberry, please,’ I said indistinctly, my mouth full. I swallowed. ‘Oh, Mrs Marshall, this is absolutely delicious.’

‘Thank you, darling. I’m glad you’re enjoying it,’ she said, smiling at me, and then moving on.

‘Good grief! Look at the way Ugly’s piled her plate high,’ Skye muttered. ‘She’s such a greedy guts, no wonder she’s got such a big belly. Look, it’s sticking out all the pleats in her ridiculous skirt.’

Rhona pretended not to hear but Arabella and Emily sniggered. I wanted to push Skye’s head
plop
into the bowl of trifle. I tried to act as if I hadn’t heard her. I ate my entire plateful – though the food tasted like cardboard now.

It was easier after tea because the grownups came into the living room with us and Skye was too sly to be blatantly mean to me in front of the Marshalls. Mr Marshall stuck a false moustache under his nose, balanced a silly hat sideways on his head, and said he was Bumble the Conjuror. He did a lot of tricks that didn’t work properly. I wasn’t sure if this was deliberate or not. I tittered uncertainly when he picked the wrong card or tapped the wrong box. Rhona roared with
laughter
and kept yelling, ‘Oh,
Dad
, you are so so
stupid
!’