house for at least six months while she makes up her mind what to do—’
‘Yeah, yeah. Tell us something we actually
want
to know,’ Jazz butted in rudely.
Mrs Brown frowned and Jazz muttered another barely audible ‘sor-reee’ at the floor.
‘Mr Smythe also told me some gossip about Fergus. But . . . I’m obviously intruding on your valuable time,’ Jazz’s mum teased, noting the sudden spark of interest on her
daughter’s face. ‘I’ll leave you girls to it.’
‘But, Mum—’ Jazz cried.
Mrs Brown turned her back on Jazz’s frustrated bleating.
Jazz made to follow her, but Aleisha stuck her head around the door. ‘What’s up with you guys?’ she asked. ‘You look as if the world’s about to end. Hey, did Mum
tell you about the new boy? You know he’s in a band, right? Well, you won’t believe it – they’ve got an album deal already! How cool is that? I checked him out on the
net.’ She paused for effect and then said, ‘He’s lush!’
I felt my face collapse as Jazz started jumping up and down on the spot, squealing and squeaking like a hundred Huckleberries.
8
Moving In
A t tea that night I asked Dad if he’d heard from Pinkella.
‘Er . . . oh, yes,’ he said vaguely, spooning baked beans into his mouth and staring into the middle distance. ‘Why?’
‘Just wondered if she’d told you anything about her tenants,’ I said, trying to keep my voice light.
Dad blushed. ‘Oh, sorry, Bertie, I should have told you – yes, there’s a family coming to live in her house. They were supposed to arrive tonight, actually—’
‘Yeah, I knew all that. But it’s their
furniture
that’s arriving tonight, actually. Jazz’s mum told me,’ I said pointedly. I felt a bit mean making Dad feel
bad on purpose, but at the same time I wanted him to know I was fed up that I’d heard all the gossip from someone else.
‘I’ve been distracted recently, haven’t I?’ Dad stammered, putting his cutlery down. ‘It’s just this new play I’m working on. And then all that hassle
with Jaffa . . .’
‘It’s all right, really. The pressures of success, eh?’ I laughed half-heartedly. I was happy that Dad was doing well and not having to work for the
Daily Ranter
any
more. It meant he wasn’t as grumpy as he used to be. But one thing that had not changed was the number of hours he worked. If anything he seemed to be working even harder than he had before.
He was such a perfectionist. I remembered what Kaboodle had said about Dad doing it all for me. I did wish he would just stop sometimes, though.
It was all right for Jazz. If she was upset or excited about something she could always talk to her mum or dad or Aleisha. Even having Ty around had to be better than being on your own.
‘So, do you think we should invite them round?’ Dad said, cutting into my gloomy thoughts. He was grinning widely and cheesily.
‘Who?’ I asked.
‘The new neighbours.’
‘NO WAY!’
‘Hey, there’s no need for that!’ Dad frowned. ‘What’s the problem with being friendly?’
I shifted uncomfortably. ‘I just don’t really want to make a big deal out of them being our new neighbours, that’s all.’ I squirmed, remembering Jazz’s excitement
on learning how cool and good-looking the boy was meant to be.
Dad tutted. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t embarrass you by wearing brightly coloured clothes or telling bad jokes or dying my hair green or anything,’ he said sarcastically.
‘Maybe I’ll just go round there on my own and say “hi” once they’ve had a chance to settle in. I don’t know – I hadn’t even given it a moment’s
thought till now, to be honest . . . Right,’ he said decisively, pushing back his chair. ‘You done with that?’ He gestured to my half-finished tea. I nodded. ‘OK, well,
I’m not going to do any more work tonight. How about a DVD?’
‘Nah,’ I said. ‘I’m a bit tired. I’m going up to read. Might have an early night.’ Truth
‘Yeah, yeah. Tell us something we actually
want
to know,’ Jazz butted in rudely.
Mrs Brown frowned and Jazz muttered another barely audible ‘sor-reee’ at the floor.
‘Mr Smythe also told me some gossip about Fergus. But . . . I’m obviously intruding on your valuable time,’ Jazz’s mum teased, noting the sudden spark of interest on her
daughter’s face. ‘I’ll leave you girls to it.’
‘But, Mum—’ Jazz cried.
Mrs Brown turned her back on Jazz’s frustrated bleating.
Jazz made to follow her, but Aleisha stuck her head around the door. ‘What’s up with you guys?’ she asked. ‘You look as if the world’s about to end. Hey, did Mum
tell you about the new boy? You know he’s in a band, right? Well, you won’t believe it – they’ve got an album deal already! How cool is that? I checked him out on the
net.’ She paused for effect and then said, ‘He’s lush!’
I felt my face collapse as Jazz started jumping up and down on the spot, squealing and squeaking like a hundred Huckleberries.
8
Moving In
A t tea that night I asked Dad if he’d heard from Pinkella.
‘Er . . . oh, yes,’ he said vaguely, spooning baked beans into his mouth and staring into the middle distance. ‘Why?’
‘Just wondered if she’d told you anything about her tenants,’ I said, trying to keep my voice light.
Dad blushed. ‘Oh, sorry, Bertie, I should have told you – yes, there’s a family coming to live in her house. They were supposed to arrive tonight, actually—’
‘Yeah, I knew all that. But it’s their
furniture
that’s arriving tonight, actually. Jazz’s mum told me,’ I said pointedly. I felt a bit mean making Dad feel
bad on purpose, but at the same time I wanted him to know I was fed up that I’d heard all the gossip from someone else.
‘I’ve been distracted recently, haven’t I?’ Dad stammered, putting his cutlery down. ‘It’s just this new play I’m working on. And then all that hassle
with Jaffa . . .’
‘It’s all right, really. The pressures of success, eh?’ I laughed half-heartedly. I was happy that Dad was doing well and not having to work for the
Daily Ranter
any
more. It meant he wasn’t as grumpy as he used to be. But one thing that had not changed was the number of hours he worked. If anything he seemed to be working even harder than he had before.
He was such a perfectionist. I remembered what Kaboodle had said about Dad doing it all for me. I did wish he would just stop sometimes, though.
It was all right for Jazz. If she was upset or excited about something she could always talk to her mum or dad or Aleisha. Even having Ty around had to be better than being on your own.
‘So, do you think we should invite them round?’ Dad said, cutting into my gloomy thoughts. He was grinning widely and cheesily.
‘Who?’ I asked.
‘The new neighbours.’
‘NO WAY!’
‘Hey, there’s no need for that!’ Dad frowned. ‘What’s the problem with being friendly?’
I shifted uncomfortably. ‘I just don’t really want to make a big deal out of them being our new neighbours, that’s all.’ I squirmed, remembering Jazz’s excitement
on learning how cool and good-looking the boy was meant to be.
Dad tutted. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t embarrass you by wearing brightly coloured clothes or telling bad jokes or dying my hair green or anything,’ he said sarcastically.
‘Maybe I’ll just go round there on my own and say “hi” once they’ve had a chance to settle in. I don’t know – I hadn’t even given it a moment’s
thought till now, to be honest . . . Right,’ he said decisively, pushing back his chair. ‘You done with that?’ He gestured to my half-finished tea. I nodded. ‘OK, well,
I’m not going to do any more work tonight. How about a DVD?’
‘Nah,’ I said. ‘I’m a bit tired. I’m going up to read. Might have an early night.’ Truth
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