Wonder Women (38 page)

Mel didn't know what to do. So far, Serena hadn't mentioned going to a party that weekend, but she had developed a pattern of announcing her social plans only just before they were about to happen. Mel might once have thought it was the spontaneity of teenagers, but now she was a little wiser, she knew it was because that way Mel would have little time to check up on Serena's story or ask too many questions. She had to stop Serena going to that party. Could she invent some kind of family emergency? Commit them both to a social occasion somewhere? She knew if she did, Serena would just beg off and make an excuse. Maybe she could get Bruce to invite Serena to do something. Serena would go along with whatever her dad asked, but when Mel rang Bruce's mobile, he didn't answer, and then sent her a text to say he was in Spain for a fortnight. Nice of him to let her know.

She was thinking of inventing a deathly illness and begging Serena to stay home and look after her, but it would seem very out of character, and besides, she knew she wasn't a good enough actor to pull it off. The difficulty with being Serena's online friend was that she couldn't take that friendship into the real world, or even do anything to draw
attention to herself. She thought of posting as Lauren and suggesting that the party might be raided by the police or something, but then everyone would want to know who she was and how she knew. She felt powerless. Maybe not knowing was better than knowing and not being able to stop things happening.

Late on the Friday afternoon, she was sitting at the computer in the office at work, staring at the screen, waiting for Jo to arrive so they could cash up and close the shop. The last customers had left about five minutes before and she knew no one else was likely to come in. There was a post on the Facebook page for the party that had her flummoxed. ‘Sum1 getting NOS,' it said. ‘Bring balloons.' What the hell was NOS and why was it related to balloons? Some kind of party game? She wished she had some way of decoding this cryptic youth-speak. She looked out through the open door of the office and saw Jo's car pull up outside. Jo got out and set about unloading the kids from their car seats and getting her things together to come in. Mel didn't want to have to explain why she was on Facebook on the work computer, let alone logged on with a fictitious profile. She was about to close down the Facebook profile and go out to meet Jo, when she saw a little red notification flag come up. She clicked on it. ‘Jason “Triggah” Cook sent you a message.' She opened the link. It took her to a private message, and Triggah had written a single word: ‘Peng,' Peng? What the hell was peng? Jo was coming through the door, and Mel quickly closed the browser window.

She went out on to the shop floor to meet Jo. Without thinking, she said, ‘What's peng?'

‘Pen?'

‘No, peng. P-E-N-G. it's something I … heard Serena say.'

‘In what context?'

‘I can't remember.'

Jo looked surprised. ‘I don't know, it's not one I've heard before, but youth slang moves so fast. We wrinklies can't be expected to keep up.' She thought for a second. ‘Tell you what … I remember Lee saying that when they're working on youth campaigns and want to use the right slang terms, they use Urban Dictionary.'

‘The what?'

‘It's an online slang dictionary that anyone can contribute to, like Wikipedia. Try looking it up there.'

‘Thanks, I will,' said Mel, as if it wasn't a big deal. She went over to the till and she and Jo went through the day's figures while Zach and Imogene played in the play area. Since Jo had decided to say yes to the big investor, she wanted much more detail on the day's sales and the traffic through the shop, Mel was usually very good at keeping notes on people's browsing habits and what their kids got up to while they were looking at the clothes, but for the last few days she'd been so distracted she'd been a bit sloppy. She could see Jo wasn't very pleased with the level of feedback she was getting.

‘Look, I'm sorry. I've had terrible period pains all day. I haven't been at my best,' she said. She felt awful lying to Jo, but she wasn't going to admit to spending the afternoon Internet-stalking her own daughter.

‘That's okay,' said Jo. ‘Go home and rest. We'll get some better data tomorrow.'

Mel excused herself and headed for the door. She couldn't wait to get home. She'd tried looking at websites on her phone a few times, and she just couldn't get on with it. She wanted to be able to sit at her PC and and look up this Urban Dictionary. When she got home, Serena was slumped in front of the television, watching a DVD of something violent that involved cars roaring around and crashing a lot. Often, when Mel came home and Serena was in the living room, she would make an excuse and go to her room, but today, she glanced up, but stayed on the sofa watching the film. Damn. Mel went through into the kitchen and started preparing dinner. She was itching to switch on her PC. She put her head around the door and said, ‘Any homework to do?'

‘Done it,' muttered Serena.

‘Great!' Mel said brightly.

Eventually, the swelling music suggested that the film was finished and Mel assumed that Serena would then head for her bedroom, but she switched over to a music channel and sat in the same position, watching music videos.

Mel dished up dinner and carried plates through into the living room. ‘Let's eat in front of the telly for a change,' she said cheerfully, handing Serena her plate. ‘Is there anything we could both watch?

‘
EastEnders
?'

‘Too depressing,' said Mel.

‘There's that American comedy thing on E4,' Serena said.

‘Perfect.'

With years of practice, Mel knew how to infuriate Serena when they watched television. She'd just sit there and ask
really stupid mum questions until Serena had had enough and stormed off to her room. She started as soon as the show came on. ‘Now, who's that? Is he the same one we saw in the other show? The one about the school?' Then she tried, ‘Is he married to the blonde one or the skinny dark one? I can never tell these pretty American girls apart.' And finally, ‘Why is that funny? I can't bear those American laugh tracks.'

But to her surprise, Serena answered all her questions and sat quite quietly on the sofa. She picked at her dinner, but for once didn't complain about Mel's cooking. It was more as if she just wasn't hungry. She seemed very subdued. She wasn't often vibrant or chatty any more with Mel, but this seemed different … as if she was sad rather than sulky.

Mel finished her dinner and held out a hand for Serena's plate.

‘Are you done?'

‘Yes, thanks. Sorry. It's nice, I'm just not very hungry. Mel nearly fell off her chair. Serena had been polite! Something must be wrong. Why today? Normally she barely saw her in the evenings, and now, today, when Mel was desperate to get to her computer, Serena was moping on the sofa. She'd try being extra chummy. That would surely get Serena to flee to her bedroom. She took the plates through to the kitchen, and dug around in the freezer. She came up with an ice-cream lolly and carried it through to the living room.

‘Maybe this will cheer you up,' she said, and handed Serena the chocolate ice cream. Then she sat beside her daughter on the sofa and grabbed the throw off the back of the sofa to spread over both of them.

‘Thanks, Mum,' said Serena in a small voice. She pulled the throw up to her chin, and sat nibbling at her ice cream in tiny bites. Mel knew she should ask what was wrong, but in all likelihood, Serena would either say, ‘Nothing,' or would yell at her for being nosy. Mel kept sitting beside her on the sofa, itching to get moving, but eventually the restlessness got the better of her. She jumped up and headed for the kitchen, where she washed up noisily. Then she thumped back into the living room. ‘Are you going to be long in here?' she asked briskly. ‘Only I want to hoover.'

‘Hoover?' said Serena blankly. ‘It's the middle of the night!'

‘It's only eight o'clock, and I just have so much to do over the next few days. I need to get these things done.'

‘Okay …' said Serena rather dubiously. She clicked the television off and, wrapping the throw around her shoulders like a superhero cloak, shuffled off to her room. Mel felt a pang. Maybe Serena had wanted to talk. Maybe she'd been about to open up, and she, Mel, had missed an opportunity. But she'd gone too far down the path she was on. She had to see what was going on with Triggah and the party – see the whole thing through.

Damn. Now she would actually have to hoover. She dragged the machine out from the kitchen cupboard with a clatter, and ran it over the living room carpet in the most cursory of ways before she pushed it back into the kitchen, not bothering to put it away properly, and switched on her PC. Oddly enough, there was no music coming from Serena's room.

She ran a Google search and easily found the Urban Dictionary website Jo had mentioned. She began by looking up some of the words she had seen in the discussions on the party page. She had been right that ‘draw' was a term for marijuana. And NOS, it seemed was Nitrous Oxide – laughing gas – which the kids inhaled for a brief euphoric high. It wasn't illegal, but another Internet search suggested that it probably wasn't entirely safe either.

Finally, she typed ‘peng' into the search box. Multiple definitions came up, but the first one was: ‘Fit, sexy, good-looking, hot, fuckable'. Well, that cleared that up. Serena's boyfriend was trawling around on Facebook telling other women he thought they were hot. Classy. Maybe his behaviour was the reason for Serena's subdued mood that evening. The question was, what should she – as Lauren – do about it? It was probably best to just ignore it. She shouldn't respond. But as she sat at her computer, she got more and more angry. Whatever she might think of Triggah, Serena had picked him and had invested her heart in him, and it seemed he was a slug. But just how much of a slug was he? She couldn't resist prodding him slightly to see just how slimy he would turn out to be. She hit ‘Reply' and spent some time trying to come up with a response that would not give her away as a fake. Eventually she opted for, ‘Havnt u got a gfriend?' That should be pretty safe. She hit ‘Send'. He must have been online, because he replied pretty much immediately. ‘Nah,' he said. ‘Not relly. You goin Alexs free house Sat?'

Well, that settled it. He was a vile little opportunist. She wanted to march straight into Serena's room and say to her,
‘Your boyfriend is a disgusting little worm, did you know that?' But of course she couldn't. Firstly, Serena had no idea she knew of Triggah's existence or his place in her life. And secondly, even if she could get around that, what would she say? ‘I know he's a pig because he's been hitting on my fictitious online persona, the one I use to spy on you'?

In the morning, Serena seemed a little happier. Mel guessed that during the course of the previous night, she'd heard from Triggah. Either that, or she was just getting excited for the party that night. She hadn't actually asked to go out yet, so Mel tried offering some alternatives. ‘Hey,' she said when Serena sloped into the kitchen at around eleven, ‘that vampire film opened last night. How about we splash out on some VIP tickets and I'll take us to Pizza-Express for dinner after?'

‘Hmm,' said Serena. ‘Coffee?'

Mel switched on the kettle. ‘Or if you don't feel like a film, we could go bowling. Or invite someone for dinner. Shall we see if Hamish wants to come?'

Serena didn't answer, just made herself a mug of instant with three sugars and sank into a chair at the kitchen table. Mel busied herself with kitchen tasks – packing away clean dishes, wiping surfaces, humming to herself. Pretending that this was a normal weekend and a normal conversation. But it seemed Serena wasn't going to answer unless she pushed. Eventually she said, ‘So what do you think? Film? Dinner? Bowling? Dinner party?'

‘I can't,' said Serena. ‘Sorry, I meant to tell you. Izzie's having a sleepover. Loads of us are going.'

Izzie and Serena had been friends since junior school.
Not close friends, but always in roughly the same circle. It was one of those friendships that seemed more about competition and bitchiness than affection. Izzie was a brittle, insecure girl who looked as if she had something to prove. Her parents were very rich, but time-poor. They were always at work or out of the country, and they tended to throw money at Izzie and her younger sister to assuage their guilt. She wasn't necessarily popular for herself, but the kids were not averse to spending time in her huge house with its pool table, home cinema and frequent lack of parental supervision.

‘Really?' said Mel carefully. ‘You didn't mention it before.'

‘We only decided yesterday.'

‘And will her parents be there? I know they're away a lot.'

‘They are away, but there's an au pair there to look after her little sister.' Serena knew how to play the game. ‘You can meet her when you drop me off, if you like.'

I bet I can, thought Mel. I also bet Izzie's slipped her a few quid to keep her mouth shut about the girls going out for the night. She had met the au pairs at Izzie's house before. They tended to be moody, disinterested Eastern European girls who saw the job as a stopgap. But without causing a major row and arousing Serena's suspicions, there was no way she could put her foot down and say no. Serena had slept over at Izzie's many times before.

Mel was working at the shop from twelve until four, and she worried and fretted through her shift, but couldn't come up with a feasible way to prevent Serena going. When she got back to the flat, Serena had packed a small rucksack, ostensibly with pyjamas, toiletries and clothes for the next
day, but Mel was sure the bag actually contained an outfit for the party. Together, they walked over to Izzie's house. It was only a few blocks away, but in a more affluent part of the neighbourhood.