How to Get the Friends You Want (2 page)

I was so relieved I felt like skipping as Primrose and me set off up the zig-zag path on the way to school. But Primrose was definitely not in a skipping mood. She was still peeved and prickly because of her stained school bag. She said it looked like someone had peed on it.

‘I can't wait to tell my friends about Dad being on TV!' I said.

‘What friends?' said Prickly Primrose.

Have you noticed how bad moods can be catching, like colds? I shouldn't try to talk to Primrose when she's in a mood because she just puts me in one too, but I never remember.

‘What do you mean, “What friends?” I've got lots of friends!'

‘Like who?' goes Primrose.

It was chilly even for November. There was frost on the edges of the path and our breath
puffed out like clouds in the air. The houses in Old Polgotherick were built before cars were invented so there aren't any roads, just steep zigzag paths that wind up between the houses from the harbour to the main road at the top.

‘Like Toby and Jess,' I said.

Primrose did a funny sort of snort.

‘What's that supposed to mean?'

‘It means those two are a pair of misfits,' she said. ‘They aren't proper friends, are they?'

We stopped at the Old Bakery to catch our breath. The boats in the harbour were as still as a picture and the sea looked glassy and grey. The seagulls seemed super-noisy in the cold, still air, as if someone had turned the volume up.

I let the misfits part go, but I didn't see how she could say they weren't proper friends. Toby and Jess were the two people I always talked to if I had a problem or if something brilliant happened, like Dad being on TV and managing not to fall flat on his face.

‘They can't be proper friends because you don't do proper-friends things with them,' she went on. ‘You don't go round each other's houses after school or hang out at the beach or go round the shops, do you? You don't really even hang out together at school.'

It was true we hardly saw each other at school
but that was because we all went to different lunchtime clubs and stuff. It was also true that I had never been to Jess's house and generally tried not to go to Toby's.

Toby's dad was in charge of the Polgotherick Cubs and Scouts and his mum ran the Brownies and Guides; when you sat down to eat your tea with them you felt like you were going for your table manners badge.

So I didn't like going round his house, but in an outdoors situation Toby's family didn't feel so full-on, and that was handy considering they spent most of their time outdoors. They did exciting things like night-hiking and winter camping, and they often asked me along.

‘We do hang out at weekends,' I said. ‘I went badger-watching with Toby's family last Saturday night!'

‘Not exactly normal friends stuff, is it?' goes Primrose. ‘And it isn't as if you and Toby and Jess ever do things together. Not like a proper group.'

‘Actually, we're doing the Young Voices competition,' I said smugly, as if we were always teaming up for that kind of thing. ‘Toby's the Chair, Jess is doing the speech, and I'm giving the vote of thanks.'

‘Whatever,' goes Primrose. ‘You know I'm right.'

‘No you're not, and anyway, I've got lots of other friends.'

She did that stupid snort-thing again and didn't bother to say anything, and that's when I noticed that I'd caught her bad mood.

I tried to shake it off when I got to school.

‘Hi Jess – did you see my dad on breakfast TV?'

Jess marked her place with her finger and looked up from her book.

‘We don't watch TV before school. Why was he on?'

I told her he had just been voted Agony Aunt of the Year. She looked suitably impressed... and astonished.

‘Your dad's an agony aunt? Why didn't you tell us?'

‘He didn't want anyone to know. It's not really good for his image, being a sports reporter and all that.'

‘I wonder what proportion of agony aunts are men,' Jess pondered. ‘I'll look it up.'

That's what Jess does – she finds out facts and hoovers them up like an ant-eater hoovering up ants.

‘Is Toby here yet?' I asked, looking around.

Kirsty overheard me.

‘He's away – he's probably got pneumonia in his knees!'

Everyone burst out laughing. They all laugh at Toby because he sometimes wears shorts to school, even in the winter. He doesn't care. He says he prefers shorts and it isn't against school rules, so why shouldn't he? But I can't help wishing he wouldn't.

Just then, Sasha arrived with Tammy and Abina. They're the cool girls in our class and they don't usually take much notice of me.

Sasha's the prettiest girl in school. She's got honey-coloured hair that she ties back with flowers and stuff. Tammy's mum and dad own half the holiday homes on Mill Lane and she wears something new every single week. Abina's family moved here from Africa before she was born and they take her there on holiday every year. She's seen real live elephants and lions in the wild – imagine!

‘We saw your dad on TV,' Sasha said. ‘We thought he was brilliant!' They always say ‘we'. They're like matching-set friends.

‘We didn't even know he was an agony aunt. That's so cool!' said Tammy.

‘We want to hear all about it!' said Abina.

They were serious. They thought Dad was some kind of celebrity. ‘We never knew he was famous,' they said. They wanted to hear all about the twinkly dinner and the swanky London hotel
and I told them everything I knew – except the fact that Dad didn't actually write the ‘Dear Daphne' page. That was one of those accidental secrets that sometimes seem to get stuck.

It started because Mr Kaminski didn't want anyone to know he was the one doing it. ‘I haf no qualification,' he said. Mum kept telling him he had all the qualifications he needed from studying in the School of Life for about a hundred years.

In the meantime, Dad's editor was amazed how brilliant Dad had turned out to be at solving people's problems, and now it was just too late for him to tell the truth.

Abina said, ‘Wasn't it great when your dad told that man to get a new house if his old one was full of clutter?' They could remember every detail of the interview.

‘Hey!' Sasha said. ‘Why don't you come round my house after school and we can watch it again?'

‘We always go to Sasha's on Mondays,' said Tammy.

I felt the way Dad must have done when they announced he'd won Agony Aunt of the Year. Could they mean me?

‘I expect you're busy,' Abina said, seeing me glance round to check they weren't talking to someone else. ‘What do you normally do on Mondays?'

What I normally did on Mondays was the same as every other day after school – watch Neighbours, mess about on the computer, play with Dennis, lie around on my bed reading... when you came to think about it, my life wasn't exactly action-packed.

‘I'm not doing anything today,' I said. ‘But I'll have to phone my mum.'

When I told Mum I was going to Sasha's after school she said I'd better let Primrose know. Dad works in the office on Mondays because the paper goes to press on Tuesdays, and Mum was going to be late back. When Mum and Dad aren't around, Primrose is supposed to be in charge.

I sent Primrose a text.

Won't be home – going to my friend
Sasha's after school with other
friends Tammy and Abina

So she thought I didn't have any proper friends? Well, that showed her!

Sasha's house was called ‘Mariners' and it was right on the harbour. Inside, it was just like her mum's shop on Fore Street, full of old furniture painted in new colours, lacy cushions, candles and ornaments. It had big pictures on the walls and thick rugs on the floor.

We left our shoes at the door and went straight through to the kitchen. Everything was spotless.
Gran would have said you could eat your dinner off that floor. You would not want to eat anything off our kitchen floor, especially since we've had Dennis.

The boats were bobbing in the harbour right outside the windows. There were freshly-baked shortbread biscuits on a cooling-rack on the counter. Sasha told us to help ourselves while she poured some juice.

‘Your mum's a great cook,' I said, trying not to sound jealous.

Sasha laughed. ‘My mum doesn't cook! That's Margaret's job. She comes every day after school and stays till Mum gets home.'

Just then, Margaret put her head round the door to say hello. She had frizzy grey hair and a hearty look. She said if we didn't need anything she would carry on with the dusting.

There were two glass doors from the kitchen onto a balcony that jutted out over the water. Some of the other houses in the row had boats tethered to their balcony-rails and metal ladders going down to them. If Toby's family lived in Sasha's house they'd have a whole bunch of boats tied up outside and the balcony would be crammed with canoes.

I gave up trying not to sound jealous. ‘You've got a great house.'

‘It's all right,' said Sasha. ‘But I wish we had a garden. You've got big gardens in Harbour Row. You're so lucky!'

I didn't tell her that in fact most of ours had been sold off to the house next door before we moved there, so all we actually had was a dark yard that hardly got any sunshine.

‘Let's go and watch Peony's dad on TV again,' said Tammy.

Sasha's bedroom was three times bigger than mine and she had her own widescreen TV. I was a bit nervous in case I had missed any terrible gaffes the first time round, but on the second time of watching, Dad still did surprisingly well.

‘You're so lucky having a dad like that,' they said. ‘You must be able to talk to him about absolutely everything.'

I could hardly stop myself doing one of Primrose's famous snorts. Dad was great in lots of ways but if you wanted help with a problem you'd get more sense out of Dennis.

When we had watched Dad's interview they decided to put on a DVD. Sasha had the complete first series of Vampire Girl. I'd never seen any of it before so they started with Episode One.

‘Everyone watches Vampire Girl,' they said. ‘How come you've missed it?'

Vampires had always seemed a bit silly to me but I didn't like to say so, so I blamed it on Primrose. She has her uses!

‘We've only got one TV,' I said, ‘and my big sister hogs it.'

‘You're so lucky having a big sister,' said Sasha.

‘Yes,' agreed Abina. ‘I've only got a little one.'

‘And I've only got brothers,' said Tammy. ‘All they talk about is football.'

They seemed to think a big sister was like a best friend, only better. I smiled and nodded. There wasn't any point in putting them straight. It wasn't as if they'd ever invite me again.

‘What do you do on Wednesdays after school?' Sasha asked. ‘We go to Tammy's. You can come too if you like.'

Abina told me their timetable. ‘Sasha can't do Tuesdays because of dancing, Tammy can't do Thursdays because of orchestra and I can't do Fridays because of basketball, so we can only hang out on Mondays and Wednesdays after school. Then on Saturday afternoons we meet at mine.'

It was exactly like Primrose had said, friends going round each other's houses all the time – if this was really how the rest of the world did things, no wonder she thought I didn't have any proper friends.

We went home at about six o'clock. I walked some of the way with Tammy and Abina. It was nearly dark and the lights were twinkling on the water in the harbour. They put their arms round my waist as we walked, which felt kind of weird but nice. It wasn't the sort of thing Toby and Jess would do.

I split off from Tammy and Abina and went up the zig-zag path, getting to my house just in time to see Matt coming out. He is officially the best boyfriend Primrose has ever had, plus he's got the most adorable dog called Sam. He always brings Sam with him when he comes round our house, which is nearly every day, because he knows I love walking him.