The Friends Forever Collection. Jean Ure

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      Plus she has this thing about computers, like the minute you log on someone’s going to leap out and grab you. At least, thank goodness, Mum and Dad have always been pretty relaxed about trusting us to be sensible. I mean, how can you ever LEARN to be sensible unless they let you just get on with things? But Mum says if Mrs Hooper doesn’t want Megan going into chatrooms, then Annie has to promise not to take her into chatrooms, and I have to keep an eye on them both to make sure they’re obeying the rules. How am I supposed to do this? TIE THEM UP AND HANDCUFF THEM??? Mum says don’t be ridiculous; just pop your head round the door every now and then and check they’re OK. But I don’t see why I should have to!

      “Because it’s what you’re being paid for,” says Mum. “It’s what I’d have to do, if I were here.”

      So why isn’t she here? Because she wants to take all of her holiday in one great lump and go off to Spain for the summer. She seems to be under the impression that’s what I want, too.

      “Just think of those nice friends you made last year,” she oozes.

      Hm … I’m thinking of them. One in particular. The blond one. Kerry. He was gorgeous! But who’s to say he’ll be there again this year? In any case, what about Ty? He’s gorgeous, too! And he’s stacking shelves in the supermarket … I might drop by there tomorrow.

      Jem says she and him are on the same shift. She says that sometimes they even stand and stock the same shelves together … I’m just glad she doesn’t fancy him!!! Well, she does, but she’s got Kieron. Otherwise I’d be tearing my hair out! I think tomorrow I’ll definitely go down there. Just to suss things out. The two dwarfs can manage on their own for an hour or so. I mean, they’re nearly twelve years old, for heaven’s sake! That’s quite old enough to start taking responsibility for themselves.

      They’re downstairs at the moment, watching a video. Moaning and whining because I made them go into the garden and run about. Left to themselves, they’d never move anywhere at more than snail’s pace. The little fat thing is all squashy, like an overripe plum. The other one is so skinny she looks like a puff of wind would blow her over. They don’t get enough exercise! If I had my way I’d make them do two laps of the hockey field every morning, before school. I think I’ll get them running round the garden again tomorrow, before I go and see Jem. That way, they’ll be too EXHAUSTED to get up to mischief.

      Even if they’re not, who cares? I’m sick to death of them!

      

      Mum came to collect me at four o’clock. Annie and me were still collapsed on the sofa, watching videos.

      “You look as if you’ve had a busy day,” said Mum.

      I couldn’t decide if that was her idea of a joke, or if she was being serious. Rachel was there. She said, “I made them go into the garden and get some exercise.”

      “Good for you!” said Mum.

      “She only did it because she wanted to practise hitting things,” said Annie.

      “Excuse me,” said Rachel, “I did it because you need to lose weight.”

      “Megan doesn’t need to lose weight! If you’ve made her lose weight she’ll probably disappear down the plughole next time she has a bath, and it’ll be all your fault.”

      “I just hope they behaved themselves,” said Mum. “It’s very good of you, Rachel, to keep an eye on them.”

      “She’s paid for it!” shrilled Annie.

      “People are paid for emptying dustbins,” said Mum, “but I wouldn’t want to do it.”

      “It doesn’t need any skill,” said Annie. “You just have to be a big bully, is all.”

      Mum laughed. “Well! Sooner Rachel than me. I trust Megan hasn’t been too much bother?”

      “It’s not Megan,” said Rachel, looking hard at Annie. Annie stuck her tongue out. “It’s her,” said Rachel.

      As Mum and me walked back through the Estate, Mum said that Annie was obviously “a bit of a handful”.

      Of course, I immediately leapt to the defence of my best friend.

      “It’s Rachel,” I said. “She’s so bossy!”

      “It’s difficult,” said Mum, “when you’re only sixteen. And after all, she has been left in charge.”

      I grumbled that it didn’t give her the right to make us go and chase balls all round the garden.

      “That’s not what she’s there for!”

      “I’m sure she’s doing her best,” said Mum.

      “Bossy,” I muttered.

      “Just keeping you out СКАЧАТЬ