Part 3 (2/2)

Unfortunately Amy had been spotted in the cla.s.sroom minutes before as she was tearing up the paper squares.

'Missing your friend, are you? Playing her little game?' It was Penny Boswell-Hackett, the day girl who just had to have a go at Amy whenever she could. 'Poor little Amy who are you going to snuggle up with at night now that your best dormie has left?'

'Shut up,'Amy had snarled back in fury. 'Just because you don't know what a best friend is just because you probably have to pay those two to hang around with you . . .' She'd pointed at 'Piggy' and 'Weasel', the two girls who always tagged along with Penny.

'b.i.t.c.h,' Penny had hissed back. 'Well, at least we've all got a chance of getting into the Scottish hockey team now that your overgrown clod of a friend is out of the way.'

'Wrong again!' Amy had been delighted to correct her. 'Niffy's travelling up especially for the trials. It turns out you don't have to be a snooty St Jude's girl to compete for the national team.'

'What's that round your neck?' Penny had flicked a casual finger at Amy's beautiful, prized necklace, which glinted from the open neck of her school blouse. 'Something tacky you picked up at the Barras?'

As the Barras was a well-known Glasgow street market, Amy was understandably furious. But her pithy reply had to be put on hold because just then their new form teacher walked in, called for silence, took the register, then marched her Upper Fifth B cla.s.s down the corridor to a.s.sembly.

Walking along, Gina realized she'd forgotten how dark the school was. Even though the windows were big, they were set way up off the ground so you could only look out at the sky, which was a dull grey. In the corridors the floors were also dark grey, the walls greenish and panelled up to waist height in dark wood. Compared with life in California, it was like being underground.

After the school hymn, the Banshee took to the stage. She'd clearly had an invigorating holiday. Her stride, unhampered by her pleated skirt, seemed even more purposeful than usual. It was obvious that she must have been a lacrosse, hockey and tennis champion in her day. She would definitely have been team captain and head girl, her reports praising her 'leaders.h.i.+p qualities'.

Gina glanced down at her list of words. Each time the Banshee said one of them during her speech, Gina would get ten points. 'Relish, challenge, address, smart, and the bonus ball for a hundred points: Santa.'

She looked at the tall woman behind the podium, who swept back her short brown bob, gave a curt smile, took a breath and then launched into her sermon. There really wasn't a s...o...b..ll's chance in h.e.l.l that she was going to say 'Santa', was there?

After welcoming everyone back, telling her holiday anecdotes and announcing various staff changes, she added: 'Also, you'll be delighted to hear that there will be three Christmas b.a.l.l.s at the end of this term: for Years Five and Six, Three and Four, Two and One. I'm afraid our younger girls will still have to make do with a visit from Santa. I hope that isn't too insulting.'

Amidst the polite t.i.ttering this brought, Gina was grinning: 100 bonus points! She put a big tick across her score sheet, while Min gave her a despairing glance and scrunched up her square of paper.

'I give up,' she whispered, earning herself a glare from Amy. Was she somehow insulting Niffy by doing this? she thought crossly. Niffy wasn't dead! Amy was going to have to lighten up about it!

Neither the t.i.ttering nor the paper scrunching was loud enough to drown out Penny's comment from behind them.

'Obviously the little cross around my neck is a family heirloom. It's Georgian. It's been in the Boswell-Hackett family for over a hundred and forty years. There are portraits of great-aunts of mine wearing it. Some people just haven't got any family history. Well, certainly not any that you could be proud of.'

This was clearly aimed at Amy. Min and Gina could almost see her hackles rising. Gina put her arm on Amy's to restrain her and Min whispered a firm: 'Don't!'

But Amy, riled by the suggestion that she shouldn't be proud of her family, turned and hissed at Penny: 'Put your silly little bit of Georgian tat away! I'm wearing a grand's worth of Brand. New. Bling. Don't even pretend you're not jealous. Yeah, there are a total one point five carats in my new jewellery box because I'm worth it!'

As the cla.s.s filed out after the first a.s.sembly of term, Min couldn't help saying to Amy: 'Well, that's great. Let's just start the year off on a really good footing with Penny and her cronies. I don't suppose there's any hope that the great rivalry between you two is going to settle down or blow over?'

'Big. Fat. Chance,' Amy a.s.sured her.

Chapter Seven.

'OK, I know this is not exactly fun, but there's no need to get vicious,' Gina said; Amy had just sprayed her with a shower of earth.

'I can't believe this!' Amy all but shrieked back. 'And it's not even a punishment! It's supposed to be some sort of hobby for us all. Gardening? We're fifteen! Not sixty-b.l.o.o.d.y-five!'

'Shut up, both of you, or it will just go on for longer.' Min had her head down and was hoeing steadily through the little patch of flower garden that had been a.s.signed to the three of them.

The Neb 'clearly menopausal', according to Amy had decided that great improvements had to be made to the rather sad lawn, shrubs and patches of flower beds that surrounded the boarding house. The school's groundsman was clearly not up to the job, so she had decided to introduce the girls to 'the delights of gardening', as she'd put it in her dining-room announcement.

'Just an hour or two once a fortnight, that's all I'm asking of you hardly more time than you currently spend doing the weekend was.h.i.+ng up,' she insisted.

But there were unmistakable groans. The weekend was.h.i.+ng up was bad enough, with its mercilessly strict rota which always seemed to throw up your turn unexpectedly and at the worst possible moment.

Tonight it was the turn of a small group of Upper Fifths to be handed hoes, rakes, spades and orders to tidy up the flower beds.

'It's not just the gardening, is it?' Gina asked Amy her friend had been in a barely disguised bad mood for days now.

'No, it's not!' Amy agreed angrily. Actually, hoeing wasn't so bad: it was a chance to take out some serious aggro on the earth.

'Jason . . .?' Gina ventured. 'Still no news?'

'No!' Amy snapped. 'No news.'

It baffled her. They'd had such a good time! He'd told her it had been his best date ever and still nothing! Had he lost her numbers? Should she text or email him with some reminders? No. In her heart of hearts she knew he had her details, because last term he'd done exactly the same thing: been out of touch for weeks, then suddenly reappeared to scoop her up and take her breath away.

And as for her dad's advice on the phone last night! She just wanted to forget all about it, but she couldn't get the lovingly meant words out of her head: Amy, love, maybe he's just not that into you. Maybe you have to find someone better.

Maybe he's just not that into you! Aaaaaargh!

'Unlike lovey-dovey, caring-sharing Dermot of course,' Amy couldn't help sneering. 'I saw you got another postcard from him today!'

'Yeah,' Gina confirmed, but she felt embarra.s.sed. During the first fortnight of school, Dermot had emailed, Dermot had texted, and Dermot had now sent her two postcards.

The messages had begun cheerily enough: HOW ARE YOU? HOW'S SCHOOL? MISS ME YET? DOING ANYTHING AT THE WEEKEND? WANT TO SEE ME AGAIN? But because her answers had been so vague, he was now sounding a little sad and desperate. The postcard had read: Gina? What did I do? At least give me a call. I'm sure we can sort this out. I'd love to see you this weekend.

It didn't matter how nice and how keen he sounded, Gina only felt unsure. Did she want to get to know him really well? Who the h.e.l.l was Scarlett? Should she ask him? And her newest anxiety: would Dermot one day treat her the way Jason was treating Amy? Gina never ever wanted to feel as miserable over a boy as Amy did.

She had tried before now to tell her friend how confused she felt about Dermot, although she'd kept her horrible anxiety about the Scarlett file to herself. But Amy hadn't been very sympathetic. He'd rung, hadn't he? Amy had pointed out. He'd emailed? He was desperate to see her again? What was her problem?

Tonight Gina was finally going to email Dermot: she was going to tell him that she just wanted to be friends. Yes. That was definitely what she was going to do.

'h.e.l.lo, worker bees! Enjoying ourselves, are we?' The voice floated across the garden towards them.

'Just what we need!' Amy groaned.

They turned to watch Mel striding showily into the boarding-house gardens. Although it was mid-week, she wasn't wearing school uniform and looked as if she had been out somewhere interesting. Well, it was Mel's aim to make her life sound as interesting and colourful as she possibly could.

Unusually for a St Jude's girl, she had punk hair, currently dyed the most vibrant shade of red she could get away with, eyes lavishly kohled in both black and iridescent green. The tightest black jeans, slouchy boots and a bright fuchsia jacket completed the look.

'Hi there, Amy! Gina!' she called out. Min was acknowledged with a nod because she was far too square to register on the Mel radar. 'We've not had a post-holiday catch-up.'

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