appeared he had only two, but I bet the other six were folded away in his swimming shorts.’
‘And what about Mr Chapman?’
‘Mr Chapman is a donkey.’ The geography teacher did indeed have grey hair, a worn-out expression and a very loud and bizarre laugh.
‘And what about my dad?’ asked Flora.
Jess took care over this one. ‘Your dad is the king of the beasts,’ said Jess diplomatically. ‘The lion, of course.’
‘And what about your dad?’ asked Flora.
Jess thought fondly of her male parent: his nervousness, his long thin legs, his startled look, his fondness for fish. ‘My dad’s a heron.’
‘And what about Fred?’ asked Jodie.
Jess thought about Fred: his strange solitary behaviour, his wisdom, his addiction to violent films.
‘Fred’s an owl,’ she said. ‘I can just see him tearing the heads off rats every night. In fact, for all we know, that’s precisely how he spends his leisure hours.’
Jess and Flora said goodbye to Jodie and then trudged on, finishing the chocolate. Minutes after getting back from school, Jess was curled up on her sofa with Flora, watching MTV and eating pizza. This was the life!
‘I’m so glad we’re friends again, Jess. I just couldn’t cope without you,’ said Flora. ‘And it’s so great that Ben and you are getting it together.’
‘We aren’t,’ said Jess.
‘But he asked you to have coffee at the cafe!’ insisted Flora. ‘And the burger bar! And you two came to the CCTV party together.’
‘That doesn’t mean anything,’ said Jess. ‘I think he just hangs around with me because Mackenzie’s always busy with you these days.’
‘Oh no!’ said Flora. ‘He’s crazy about you, anyone can see that. He’s just a bit shy. All he needs is the right moment. He’s probably a bit self-conscious about making a move in public. I bet he’s waiting till he gets you on your own, without other people in your face all the time.’
Jess wondered if this were true. She certainly hoped so. That night in bed, Jess enjoyed a delicious fantasy in which Ben Jones hired a balloon and floated away with her over the countryside in perfect, total peace and privacy. She hoped God wouldn’t mind. Although now she knew that it was Fred who had rescued her, she had gone back to being a bit uncertain about whether or not she believed in God. One thing was for sure – she certainly believed in Fred. He was her guardian angel. Or something. Bless his long straggly locks!
Chapter 15
A few days later, Fred sidled up to Jess after English. The room was empty, as Mr Fothergill had lumbered off to perform some gross act in the privacy of the staffroom, possibly involving the tea urn and powdered milk. The rest of the class had similarly evaporated at speed. Flora and Mackenzie had rushed off together to find a private place in which to admire each other’s earlobes and eyelashes. Ben had gone off to a football practice. Only Jess was left, because she still hadn’t quite finished her essay about dark moments in Twelfth Night . ‘Although Twelfth Night is a comedy,’ Mr Fothergill had announced, ‘it does have its dark moments. Rather like life. Ha ha!’
‘Er . . . any chance you can do me a favour?’ said Fred.
‘A favour?’ cried Jess. ‘After what you did for me? Name it! I trust it will involve considerable pain and inconvenience.’
‘Well, yes, of course,’ said Fred. ‘Otherwise it wouldn’t be worth asking.’
‘OK, then – reveal my ordeal,’ Jess said, grinning.
Fred sat down on an adjoining desk and sort of played with his long scruffy locks of hair.
‘I do wish you’d have your hair cut, by the way,’ said Jess.
‘Yeah, yeah,’ sighed Fred. ‘I’m waiting for the right moment. Anyway, the deal is, it’s my mum’s birthday tomorrow.’
‘Oh! I adore your mum! She is appallingly delightful!’
‘Yes, well . . .’ Fred frowned a bit. ‘I don’t know what to get her. Could you possibly buy her some small token of my
‘And what about Mr Chapman?’
‘Mr Chapman is a donkey.’ The geography teacher did indeed have grey hair, a worn-out expression and a very loud and bizarre laugh.
‘And what about my dad?’ asked Flora.
Jess took care over this one. ‘Your dad is the king of the beasts,’ said Jess diplomatically. ‘The lion, of course.’
‘And what about your dad?’ asked Flora.
Jess thought fondly of her male parent: his nervousness, his long thin legs, his startled look, his fondness for fish. ‘My dad’s a heron.’
‘And what about Fred?’ asked Jodie.
Jess thought about Fred: his strange solitary behaviour, his wisdom, his addiction to violent films.
‘Fred’s an owl,’ she said. ‘I can just see him tearing the heads off rats every night. In fact, for all we know, that’s precisely how he spends his leisure hours.’
Jess and Flora said goodbye to Jodie and then trudged on, finishing the chocolate. Minutes after getting back from school, Jess was curled up on her sofa with Flora, watching MTV and eating pizza. This was the life!
‘I’m so glad we’re friends again, Jess. I just couldn’t cope without you,’ said Flora. ‘And it’s so great that Ben and you are getting it together.’
‘We aren’t,’ said Jess.
‘But he asked you to have coffee at the cafe!’ insisted Flora. ‘And the burger bar! And you two came to the CCTV party together.’
‘That doesn’t mean anything,’ said Jess. ‘I think he just hangs around with me because Mackenzie’s always busy with you these days.’
‘Oh no!’ said Flora. ‘He’s crazy about you, anyone can see that. He’s just a bit shy. All he needs is the right moment. He’s probably a bit self-conscious about making a move in public. I bet he’s waiting till he gets you on your own, without other people in your face all the time.’
Jess wondered if this were true. She certainly hoped so. That night in bed, Jess enjoyed a delicious fantasy in which Ben Jones hired a balloon and floated away with her over the countryside in perfect, total peace and privacy. She hoped God wouldn’t mind. Although now she knew that it was Fred who had rescued her, she had gone back to being a bit uncertain about whether or not she believed in God. One thing was for sure – she certainly believed in Fred. He was her guardian angel. Or something. Bless his long straggly locks!
Chapter 15
A few days later, Fred sidled up to Jess after English. The room was empty, as Mr Fothergill had lumbered off to perform some gross act in the privacy of the staffroom, possibly involving the tea urn and powdered milk. The rest of the class had similarly evaporated at speed. Flora and Mackenzie had rushed off together to find a private place in which to admire each other’s earlobes and eyelashes. Ben had gone off to a football practice. Only Jess was left, because she still hadn’t quite finished her essay about dark moments in Twelfth Night . ‘Although Twelfth Night is a comedy,’ Mr Fothergill had announced, ‘it does have its dark moments. Rather like life. Ha ha!’
‘Er . . . any chance you can do me a favour?’ said Fred.
‘A favour?’ cried Jess. ‘After what you did for me? Name it! I trust it will involve considerable pain and inconvenience.’
‘Well, yes, of course,’ said Fred. ‘Otherwise it wouldn’t be worth asking.’
‘OK, then – reveal my ordeal,’ Jess said, grinning.
Fred sat down on an adjoining desk and sort of played with his long scruffy locks of hair.
‘I do wish you’d have your hair cut, by the way,’ said Jess.
‘Yeah, yeah,’ sighed Fred. ‘I’m waiting for the right moment. Anyway, the deal is, it’s my mum’s birthday tomorrow.’
‘Oh! I adore your mum! She is appallingly delightful!’
‘Yes, well . . .’ Fred frowned a bit. ‘I don’t know what to get her. Could you possibly buy her some small token of my
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