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thanks.”
    â€œErm, I was wondering,” he adds, “if you’d like to hang sometime? Just us, I mean?”
    â€œWhat, you and me?” I blurt out.
    Ben nods. “Maybe sometime in the holidays?”
    You mean you’re asking me out? I want to shriek. Me, whose dad goes on about number twos? Me, who’s never ever been asked out by a boy in her whole life? My thoughts turn to panic. What’ll Kyle say if he finds out? Will Ben even tell him? I picture my brother’s sniggering face. And what about Zoe? She said she’s never met anyone like him. I just don’t know what you’re supposed to do in this kind of situation. Actually, I do. I should say no, of course.
    â€œEr … that’d be great,” I reply in a strangely calm voice.
    Ben grins. “Great. Can I have your number then?”
    â€œCourse,” I say as he takes his phone from his pocket. Just as I’ve recited the last digit, the kitchen door flies open.
    â€œDid I sleep in? Have I missed breakfast?” Gran is standing there, barefoot, in her flowery nightie with an ancient yellow cardie on top.
    â€œNo, we were just talking,” I say, jumping up from my seat.
    She peers at Ben. “That nice boy’s here again.”
    â€œYes, Gran.” I take her gently by the arm and guide her through to the room that used to be our dining room, even though there was hardly enough space for a table. It’s Gran’s bedroom now and smells of lavender and talc.
    â€œYou’re a very kind girl,” she says, clasping my hand with her papery fingers as we step carefully in the darkness.
    â€œD’you think so, Gran?” I hear Ben treading lightly upstairs.
    â€œOh, yes. You’re a good person, darling.” As I help her back into bed, my mind replays the incredible thing that’s just happened. Ben has asked me out. The most gorgeous boy I’ve ever set eyes on wants to go out with ME.
    Right now, though, I’m not sure that I’m such a good person really. Zoe likes Ben too, and things are obviously not that great for her right now. But she’ll be fine about it when I tell her … won’t she?

Chapter nine

    While I’ve always suspected that Rosalind isn’t exactly keen on Matty and me, these past five days have proved it. Aside from the iPad (which Dad has already whisked away to be fixed), there have been other, smaller things we’ve done wrong, like…
    Â 
Me not showing enough interest in Olivia’s second riding lesson of the week. “She just stood there looking bored,” Rosalind complained to Dad, as if I should have been either clapping, cheering or fainting with excitement. Next time – when I finally get my phone back – I’ll be sure to take hundreds of photos, OK?
Me (again!) saying I like science, when Rosalind asked what I enjoy at school. From the look she gave me, you’d have thought I’d said, “What I really love is performing cruel experiments on live frogs.” Which, of course, we never do. Or maybe she just doesn’t get science?
Me and Matty and the Hot Chocolate Incident. Last night, Rosalind made Olivia’s special bedtime drink, complete with squirty cream, chocolate sprinkles and some kind of edible pink hearts. When Dad wandered into the living room and said, “Don’t you two like hot chocolate any more?” Rosalind replied, quick as a flash, “They didn’t say they wanted any.” Well, I didn’t actually. I don’t really go for drinks that look like cakes . “You could have asked them,” he said, and the atmosphere was so uncomfortable, he grabbed his wallet and stormed out to the pub. Rosalind went all pink and watery-eyed and then spent nearly an hour in the bath.
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    Anyway, things aren’t all bad, because we’ve survived – just. It’s Saturday morning and any minute now Dad is taking us home. I glance at