Worse Than Boys Read online

  That night I cried myself to sleep. I hated myself for being such a wimp. I wanted to be angry at them, but I couldn’t. It was me I was angry at, always feeling sorry for myself, drowning myself in misery.

  Next morning, I came to a decision. I would make one last-ditch attempt to explain things to Erin. What did I have to lose? I was going to write her a letter. She couldn’t erase a letter. Surely, she would be intrigued enough to read what I had to say?

  It was Sunday. Mum went off to Mass without her usual Sunday morning moan because I didn’t go with her. ‘I think you’re coming down with something, Hannah,’ she said, feeling my brow. ‘You haven’t been yourself for days.’

  I sat at my window and watched the people on the quiet streets heading for church. Or going off to do some Sunday shopping.

  Sunday had always been the Lip Gloss Girls’ day out. Going to the café on the quay, then walking back and forth along the waterfront, arm in arm, making people step off the pavement to pass us. And here I was, alone, trying to compose a letter that would make them want to walk arm in arm with me again.

  I thought about it for a long time. It had to be just the right kind of letter. Then it came to me. I’d be funny, the way they always liked me to be. Funny Hannah. I’d write a letter that would make them laugh, make them giggle. I would write such a funny letter it would make them all laugh out loud. ‘Trust Hannah,’ I could almost hear Erin say it. ‘I’d forgotten how funny she could be.’ And they would realise how much they missed me.

  That was it. I would make them laugh.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I sat up all night composing that letter – ripping out pages, crumpling them and chucking them into the wastepaper basket. I had to find exactly the right words. Funny, cheeky and yet … apologetic. (Though I knew I had done nothing wrong, by this time I would apologise for anything they wanted.) I wanted us to start again, go back to square one.

  The letter would be addressed to Erin. She was the one who had been hurt … though not by me. In my head I kept thinking that if I did this right, by next week all that had happened would be a horrible memory, nothing more.

  Mum came into my room at midnight, demanding I put the light out. ‘Just finishing my homework,’ I told her.

  It was hours later before I was done, before I was satisfied. I slipped the letter in an envelope. Should I post it? If I posted it she wouldn’t get it until the next day – so I decided against that. Speed was of the essence. I wanted Erin to get that letter today, Monday. I wanted her to read it. I wanted to put all this behind me.

  On a Monday, we had PE, period one, straight after assembly. Erin always hung her blazer on the same hook. I decided that I would slip the letter into her pocket when no one was looking. Surely curiosity alone would make her read it. And once she’d read it, she had to feel something of our old friendship?

  I hardly slept and went to school looking like something out of a zombie movie. The letter shook in my hand as I pushed it into the pocket of Erin’s blazer. I was terrified someone might catch me, assume I was taking something out instead. That was all I needed now, to be accused of stealing.

  I could hardly bear to glance over to Erin as we changed after the lesson, expecting every time her hand went into her pocket that she would find the letter and pluck it out. But she didn’t. Not then. She giggled and whispered with Heather and Rose as they hovered around her like a cloaking device, protecting her from me. Then they were gone. The door banged shut and I was left alone in the changing rooms.

  In our next lesson too it was obvious she hadn’t read it – either that or she was a very good actress. But no, she hadn’t read it. I would have known if she had. Didn’t I know her better than anyone? Wasn’t she my best friend?

  But by the time I walked into the school canteen at lunchtime I knew she’d found it and read it. I knew by the way they all turned and stared at me as I carried my tray up the canteen, looking for a table. I think I stopped breathing as I felt their eyes on me. As I came close, Erin, sitting on the edge of the table, plucked the letter from her pocket and held it out to me.

  I nodded, attempting a smile. A ‘yes, it was me,’ kind of smile.

  And Erin smiled back.

  I almost dropped my tray. It had worked. When Erin beckoned me over to her, I almost ran.

  ‘You sent me this?’

  I was nodding like one of those dogs you see in the back of cars. ‘Uhh, it was the only way I could let you know how I …’

  She stopped me gabbling, holding up her hand in front of my face in that bossy way Erin had. ‘You have to hear this, girls.’

  I realised then that they had all gathered round me. Did that mean I was back in the fold again? Or were they hemming me in so I couldn’t move? I wasn’t sure.

  ‘This is so sweet,’ Erin said, and she flicked the pages of the letter and began to read it aloud.

  ‘My dear friend, Erin. And you are my friend. Always will be.’

  I tried to interrupt her. I didn’t want her to read it like this, here in the school canteen. But I couldn’t stop her now.

  ‘How long has it been now? A week, two? Too long anyway. What are you like, Erin?

  Monday: Out with my best friend, Hannah.

  Tuesday: Blame Hannah for something she didn’t do.

  Wednesday: Wash my hair.

  Thursday: Joke over. Bored without her. She’s such a great laugh. How could I ever have blamed Hannah for anything?’

  Erin looked round at everyone. ‘See what she’s doing? She’s writing it like a diary. Bridget blinkin’ Jones diary! Isn’t that clever?’

  There was a murmured giggle. I looked round them. I was smiling too. ‘You know me,’ I said.

  ‘There’s more,’ Erin said, and she began to read on. Only this time her voice changed, from giggling as if she was enjoying it, to sad and pathetic. Not the way I had meant it to be read at all. Turning the meaning upside down.

  ‘Monday: Found Hannah’s letter in my pocket. Couldn’t stop laughing as I read it. She is so funny. I miss her so much.’ Erin looked up at everyone again and pretended to sob. ‘Boo – hoo!’ Then she went on, ‘Only Hannah could think of a way like this to apologise. (Though she didn’t do anything. Not guilty, ma’am.)

  Monday night: Talk all this over with the girls. Rose, who’s going to be great in the school show, by the way – talk about boot licking!’ Erin giggled.

  I tried to snatch the letter from her hand but she turned away. I couldn’t even run, trapped by the crowd.

  ‘Oh, listen to this. This is classic: Heather’s so understanding. “We just don’t have the same laughs without Hannah,” Heather says. We all decide to call Hannah at once. She’s waiting for that call. Skips over to my place on a high. Hugs and kisses and my mum’s ice cream all round and she’s dying to see the wedding photos! The Lip Gloss Girls together again. For ever!’ Erin burst out laughing. ‘Doesn’t that make you cry?’ But the laugh died on her lips when she turned to me. ‘Do you really think that’s how it will happen?’

  I knew it wouldn’t. Not now. I’d been an idiot to think this would work. I felt as if there was a lead weight in my stomach. I watched, everyone did, as Erin very slowly tore my letter in half. ‘You’re pathetic.’

  ‘Sad little girl,’ Heather said.

  ‘Loser,’ said Rose.

  I was suddenly shoved so hard my tray slipped from my hands. My dinner – cottage pie, rhubarb and custard – went everywhere. They all jumped back. ‘And clumsy too,’ Erin said.

  I was ready to cry. Why couldn’t I stop myself from crying? I hated myself for it. ‘What is it you want from me? What do I have to do?’

  Erin slid down from the table. ‘What do you have to do? Let me see … Keep well back from all of us from now on … that’s all. We’ll know when you’re too close.’ She pinched her nose. ‘Smells awful.’

  In another life, when I was another Hannah, I would have answered that. ‘Then you must have peed your knickers
again, Erin!’ But I couldn’t hurt her like that. Why couldn’t I hurt her when she was hurting me so much?

  ‘You’re the saddest thing I’ve ever seen,’ Heather said, as she passed me. ‘Trying to get round us with that pathetic attempt at a letter.’

  And one by one they stepped past me, stamping my ‘pathetic attempt at a letter’ into the floor along with my cottage pie. I was left alone. Completely alone.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I stood there like an idiot, cottage pie all over my shoes. When I looked around, there was Wizzie and her gang, grinning at me. I found my voice at last. ‘What are you gawping at?’ I yelled at them.

  It was Sonya who answered. Sonya with her stutter.

  ‘S-s-somebody nobody likes.’

  Once I would have snapped back at her, made a fool of her. Now I couldn’t think of anything to say. She was right. I was someone nobody liked. It was so unfair. In a few days I had gone from Hannah, always surrounded by friends, to Driscoll, the girl who was constantly alone.

  Zak Riley was at the door of the canteen when I stumbled through, as if him and his mates were waiting for me. ‘I’d hate to be a lassie,’ he said.

  ‘You’re too much of a wimp. We’d never have you.’ A little of the old Hannah coming through. Why couldn’t it come through when I spoke to Erin?

  That night at home, I couldn’t hold back any tears. I cried so much I eventually made myself sick. I had to run from my room and just made it to the bathroom in time. I hung over the toilet, retching. It reminded me of the night of the wedding, and made me cry all the more.

  Mum came pounding on the door. ‘Hannah! What’s up with you?’

  I came out, my face drained of any colour, beads of sweat dotting my brow. Mum looked almost as bad. Face grey, her eyes wide with alarm. ‘Hannah, what’s wrong with you?’

  And finally, it all came pouring out. I told her everything. The only thing I didn’t tell her was Erin’s secret. Loyal to the last.

  Mum listened and when I’d finished she slumped against the back of her chair. ‘Oh, Hannah, thank goodness.’

  Thank goodness?! I almost yelled at her then, but she added, ‘I thought you were going to tell me you were pregnant.’

  The old me would have laughed herself silly at that. Me? No boyfriend, and no interest in any either. I might still have laughed, we might both have, if she hadn’t gone on to say, ‘That would be just my luck. You getting pregnant at your age.’

  Suddenly, it was all about Mum again and her hard luck. It made me so angry. ‘Oh well, we can’t have you having any bad luck, can we? We’ll not worry about what’s happening to me.’

  She looked taken aback. Then she had the cheek to say, ‘Everything has to be about you, hasn’t it? What did you do to bring this about, eh?’

  ‘Have you not been listening, Mum? I didn’t do anything.’

  ‘Have you apologised?’

  ‘Apologised for what?’ Why didn’t she ever listen? ‘I didn’t do anything.’

  ‘So how come they’re not talking to you?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘I saw this coming. That lot think you’re not good enough for them, eh? That Erin’s mother thinks she’s something. She always thought she was better than me. She’s always been luckier, that’s all. Everything fell into her lap. She married a man with a good job, and what did I get? Your dad. A real loser. Oh well, like attracts like. But that’s how that Erin’s so stuck up. She thinks she’s better than you as well.’

  She ranted on and on, and I was forgotten. It was her bad luck. She patted my shoulders and turned down my bed like a good mother, but all the time she only made me feel worse. We were both losers, that was her message. She was like a broken record.

  I lay in the dark and tried to sleep, but my mind was too filled with all that had happened today. The humiliation of Erin reading out my letter in front of everyone. It played over and over in my head like a scene from a horror movie.

  It was my mum’s raised voice that brought me out of the nightmare. I sat up in bed, wondering who she was shouting at. But there was no other voice. Only hers. She was on the phone, and as I listened, her voice grew louder, her tone more strident.

  And suddenly I knew who she was yelling at. Erin’s mother. She was on the phone to Erin’s mother. I felt like being sick again. What did she think she was doing?

  I leapt out of bed.

  ‘So you think your daughter can treat my daughter like that? Well, you can think again.’ She paused and I knew Erin’s mother was talking to her, shouting at her in fact, though I couldn’t hear what she was saying. Whatever it was it was making Mum even more angry. ‘What did you call me? You take that back. Don’t you dare say that about me!’

  She was almost losing it. I tried to pull the phone out of her hands, but she yanked it away from me, kept on shouting down the line. ‘And as for your daughter, Hannah’s told me all about her. She’s got no reason to be such a snob. She deserves everything she gets!’ I could hear the click on the line. ‘Hello!’ Mum screamed. ‘Don’t you dare hang up on me!’ She shook the phone as if she expected Erin’s mother to drop out of the receiver.

  Finally, I managed to pull it from her. ‘What have you done?!’

  She was shaking with anger. ‘I was trying to help. I thought I could talk to that woman, but she is such a snob. Thinks she is something.’

  ‘You said I told you all about Erin.’

  She shrugged that off as if she thought it wasn’t important. ‘You say a lot of things when you’re angry.’ Then she walked off into the kitchen. ‘I need a cup of tea … I can’t get over what that woman said to me!’

  It was bad enough Mum had phoned Erin’s house, but she had said that I had told her all about Erin, as if I had told her Erin’s secret too.

  Now I had no hope of convincing anyone otherwise.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It couldn’t get any worse, I thought, but I was wrong. Next day I discovered just how bad it could get. As soon as I walked through the school gates I knew they were going to start on me. They were all gathered round Erin and when she saw me she whispered something in Rose’s ear. And suddenly they all looked at me and laughed.

  ‘Her mother said what?!’ Rose shouted in a dramatic voice. Always said she should be an actress. They all knew exactly what my mother had said. It had been well rehearsed.

  ‘Like mother, like daughter,’ Erin sneered. ‘That’s what my mum says. Her mother’s always been over the top about everything. Can’t handle life, my mum says.’

  ‘Can’t handle a boil on the backside, my mum says.’ This was Heather, and she turned on me and her eyes were dark with venom. ‘She’ll go the same way as her mother, my mum says.’ And I knew what she meant. They all did. No secret about my mum.

  ‘Sooner the better,’ Rose said, and my eyes filled up with tears. How could they be so cruel? I should have had a smart answer for them. I should have been sticking up for my mother. Instead, I wanted to agree with them – anything to make them my friends again. After last night, my mum had only made things worse for me. I ran from them into the school building, trying to block out their catcalls behind me.

  It was during the first lesson that the police arrived. We could all see the car from the class window as it pulled to a halt. Two officers, a man and a woman, strode towards the main entrance. I saw Wizzie exchange a look with Sonya, and I remembered the old woman who had been held up in the town. Good. They had been caught at last.

  It was only a short time later that Wizzie, Sonya, Grace and Lauren were being summoned out of our class. They all swaggered as if they had nothing to fear, daring us to say a word. Someone dared. Rose. As they passed her desk she whispered, ‘Scumbags!’ and Lauren glared at her.

  A buzz went round the class as soon as they’d gone. I wasn’t part of that buzz. I had no one to buzz with now.

  Mrs Tasker slapped a book on her desk to shut us up, and though the lesson continued, nobody really listened. All we could
think of was Wizzie and her gang and what was happening in the office.

  ‘They’ve probably been arrested,’ I said to no one in particular as we pushed our way out of class. Just as well, as no one in particular answered me.

  They didn’t appear again till lunchtime, striding into the school yard, laughing and looking as if they’d got away with murder, one up on the police. I hated them in that moment. I thought of the old lady and the photo of her I’d seen in the papers, upset and vulnerable, and I hated them for it.

  I wasn’t the only one.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re laughing!’ Heather snapped at the Hell Cats as they passed her.

  ‘Believe it!’ Lauren said, squaring up to her.

  ‘What business is it of yours, anyway?’ Grace came up behind Lauren, her big horsey face angry.

  ‘She thinks we’re scum,’ Wizzie said.

  Rose spat on the ground. ‘You are scum. Always were and always will be.’

  I thought there would be a fight then. I waited for Wizzie to launch herself at Rose, or one of the others. She would have too, I was sure of it. But just at that moment one of the teachers appeared. He stood at the main door, glaring directly at Wizzie, and behind him the two police officers stepped from the building and stopped. Their cold stare was aimed at Wizzie too. They knew the Hell Cats were guilty, I was sure of it – just didn’t have enough evidence to prove it.

  The police headed for their car and left. Wizzie waited till they were gone. Then she leant close to Rose. ‘Catch you later for that,’ Wizzie mouthed, and I knew there was trouble coming. The first time there would be trouble and I wouldn’t be there to share it. I’d always known my boldness gave them courage. How could they manage without me? Maybe they wouldn’t want to.

  Or maybe I had another chance to show them they needed me.

  ‘Catch you later,’ Wizzie had warned. And I was going to be there when she did.