Untitled Adam Baron 2

‘And that’s my ENTIRELY STUPID mum for making me DO IT!’

Then she noticed Stephan.

‘DO I know you?’ she said.

Stephan smiled, and held his hand out for a shake. ‘Stephan,’ he said. ‘I think we’ve …’

‘Not helpful.’ Juni sighed. ‘Why would I care about your name? Who are you?’

‘Oh.’ Stephan looked round, but Mum and Auntie Mill were back in the kitchen. ‘I’m a friend of Janet’s, Cym’s mum? I’ve …’

‘Well, if you are her friend,’ Juni said, holding up a hand to stop him, ‘then why aren’t you at her house?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘If you are her friend, what are you doing here? MUM!’ Juni bellowed. ‘What’s this friend of Cym’s mum doing in OUR house?!’

Auntie Mill came back then – and explained. Stephan was staying for supper. She smiled at Juni in a wiry sort of way, and asked if she’d kindly go upstairs to change. She turned back into the kitchen while Juni hissed, shaking her head until she finally noticed me. Her hands went to her hips as she pinned me with her eyes.

‘À point,’ she said.

‘Sorry? “Ah …”?’ I stared. Juni goes to a posh school and I wondered if this was something you got taught there.

Juni closed her eyes, then opened them again. ‘À point. Please tell me you know what that means.’

I thought hard but had to shrug.

‘Unbelievable! It’s a way to cook steak.’

‘Cool. Thanks for telling me that.’

‘Wait. I am not just telling you – what am I, your teacher?’

‘Then …?’

‘Listen. Thursday is steak night. Tell Mum I want mine à point and that she MUST NOT overdo it. Your limited brain can remember that?’

I was about to say yes, or at least I thought so, but Juni swivelled, marched through the living room and banged off up the stairs.

Stephan had his mouth open. ‘She always like that?’

‘She’s nicer when she wins.’

‘Right,’ Stephan said, noticing that his hand was still held out and putting it down by his side.

‘I mean, a bit nicer.’

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I tried to tell Auntie Mill about Juni’s steak. I really did, though pretty soon she was busy making ‘drinkies’ and talking to Stephan in the kitchen, and while she did say, ‘Yes, Cym, darling,’ I’m not sure she was really listening. I tried waiting for the conversation to finish but when it did I still didn’t get a chance – because of Stephan.

Now, I do like him. As I’ve mentioned, he’s Mum’s new friend. They go to the pictures on Fridays and he comes over at the weekends sometimes too, with his girls. He fixed my bike tyre that’s been flat FOREVER and he’s good enough at Subbuteo to be worth playing, but not so good that he ever wins. It can be odd, though. In Greenwich Park you can tell that people think we’re all together! One woman told Mum how lovely her daughters were! Mum went red. And, right then, in Auntie Mill’s kitchen, Stephan made a catastrophic grown-up error.

‘So,’ he said, holding his hand over the top of his wine glass when Auntie Mill tried to pour more in, ‘how was school today?’

Adults! TELL me why you ask this question! Isn’t the answer obvious? IT WAS SCHOOL! Unless it has turned into a giant theme park (unlikely), what else is there to say? The only thing that stops me totally bugging out when I’m asked how school was today is that there is, as I’m sure you know, one question that is even MORE pointless. And that is: What did you do at school today? What did I do? Not only do I NOT CARE, but HOW WOULD I KNOW? I’m no longer AT SCHOOL! School has vanished into thin air, it does not exist and will not exist until I have to walk through the door next day. The only thing worse than asking us what we did at school is what Mum does: asks me what I did at school that day WHILE I AM WATCHING THE SIMPSONS.

Sorry, I got a bit cross there and, actually, I shouldn’t have, because when Stephan asked me that day it meant I finally got a chance to talk about Mrs Martin. I told him about the science. I went back and told him about the JE (jelly event). And I told him about my giggle. I ended with the explosion and he was amazed. I hadn’t told him the importance of her bag – her most prized possession – and when I did, his mouth dropped open.

‘And it wasn’t you?’

‘NO!!!’

‘Then who was it?’ he asked, and I sighed. Daisy had asked the same question and it really rang through my head now. I was baffled, though a face did come into my mind that so would have been there before Christmas. It belonged to the kid who used to be the class horror, kicking you from behind on school trips, hiding your pencil case, putting old chewing gum in your coat pocket.

Billy Lee.

But Billy and I had become friends before Christmas so it couldn’t be him. Could it? It must have been someone in Year 6. I started to go through the names but Mum said it was suppertime.

‘Juniper!’ Auntie Mill called. ‘Can you come and set the table, please!’

While we waited for Juni to come and help (never going to happen) Mum went into a faff wondering where everyone should sit. Auntie Mill set the table herself, telling us that Clay was going to a friend’s house. She still set six places, however, doing most of them normally, though at the head of the table she stacked up lots of glossy magazines where the plate was supposed to go. Stephan looked at me and I looked at Stephan but neither of us knew why. Then Juni came down, bumping into a chair and then a floor lamp as she walked across the living room.

‘Where’s my stinky brother?’ she said, texting.

‘Friend’s house.’

‘Great.’ TEXT. TEXT. ‘I’ll get his steak, then.’ PING!

‘Oh,’ I said, ‘I don’t think there’s going to be—’

PING! Juni wasn’t listening. ‘Where’s Dad?’ she said, pulling her chair out with one hand. TEXT. TEXT. TEXT. TEXT. PING! TEXT. Stephan and I didn’t know so couldn’t answer, so she shouted, ‘MUM? Where’s DAD?’ TEXT. PING!

There was quite a lot of crossness in Juni’s voice and I thought I knew why. My Uncle Chris used to work all the time in this big glass building (not a greenhouse, one with computers in). He was never home for anything. He’d promised to change, though, so where was he?

‘Well?’ Juni demanded, as Auntie Mill came through. TEXT. TEXT. PING! PING! PING!

‘Look, love—’ Auntie Mill winced, and stared at the side of Juni’s bowed head. ‘Daddy had to take a little trip.’

TEXT. ‘Typical.’ TEXT. PING! ‘And he’s not my “daddy”, he’s my dad.’ TEXT. PING! TEXT. ‘How little?’

‘Well …’

TEXT. ‘I mean, is he getting back soon?’ TEXT. TEXT. TEXT. TEXT. ‘Or not till after supper?’

‘Neither. He’s in …’

‘His –’ TEXT – ‘office?’