The It Girl: Superstar Geek. Katy Birchall

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СКАЧАТЬ gave a last concerned eyebrow rise and then finally pulled himself up from his chair and left the room. I relaxed and traitorous Dog immediately followed him just in case he was going in the direction of the kitchen.

      Sadly for Dog, Dad went to his bedroom to get ready for his big date. Recently Dad has been seeing someone new who he still hasn’t introduced me to. Not that I’m insulted.

      Usually he’s never with them long enough for me to meet them. I just pick up the phone every now and then and hear a different woman go, ‘Oh hi, sweetheart, is Nick there please?’ and he makes a wild ‘say I’m not at home’ gesture in the background as I explain that he’s actually gone to Slovenia to find himself. I like to mix it up and throw in some pretty inspired reasons for his disappearance, such as he’s modelling his new line of swimming trunks in Beirut, or he’s in Peru training to be a Sherpa.

      This can be risky however because if Dad overhears he throws things at me.

      He’s been seeing this girlfriend for a few months now though. He’s really been quite disgusting about the whole thing. Combing his hair, wearing aftershave and dancing – dancing – as he goes around the house. Honestly, I had to ring Mum and tell her how embarrassed I was.

      She was in India at the time so it was a bit crackly but I think I managed to convey my disgust. Mum is a travel journalist which means she’s away a lot but I don’t mind. Sometimes she takes me with her to these amazing places and then when she’s in England and hasn’t seen me in a while she comes to stay with us too.

      Mum and Dad were never married – or even together for very long. They met when they were both junior reporters and in Dad’s words ‘Rebecca was totally in love’ with him and in Mum’s words she was ‘either very drunk, honey, or suffering from some kind of tropical disease that causes hallucinations’. Either way, I was the outcome, and luckily they’re really good friends which makes things a lot easier.

      When I was younger I kept hoping they would get back together, like in The Parent Trap or whatever, but now I see that it’s actually a lot better this way. Mum says they could never be together because Dad is too opinionated and the way he sneezes creeps her out. Dad says they could never be together because Mum never washes up and once mocked John Wayne’s hat. I reckon it’s actually because they’re best friends, but hey, you’ve got to let adults believe what they want to believe.

      ‘It sounds like he’s in love, darling,’ Mum laughed down the phone as I explained Dad’s recent antics. ‘Be nice to him.’ I’m not sure what other advice she gave me because as she spoke there was a lot of background noise at her end and I think I could hear someone trying to sell cabbages for twenty rupees a kilogram. India seems like a very noisy place.

      As Dad rummaged around in his bedroom he decided to start lecturing me from upstairs. ‘I don’t want any problems this evening. You’re to stay home and behave,’ he instructed.

      I found this comment unjustified considering I am very well behaved the majority of the time. I am hardly a troublemaker and I don’t get invited to any parties so I don’t really know what he was getting so anxious about.

      The most recent time that I guess I wasn’t the model of good behaviour was when he had a house-warming party for our new place in London and all these people invaded, sauntering in with their wafts of expensive perfume and bottles of Chardonnay. I had to take their coats and walk around for the evening with trays of nibbles, listening to them tell Dad how adorable I was as they ignored me and picked up mini bruschettas from the tray.

      Anyway there was this actor there who I overheard saying that he couldn’t understand why Nick had that dog over there that looked like he would slobber all over the place and probably, by the look of the boy, wasn’t even a good pedigree. I accidentally let Dog chew his hat.

      Dad didn’t make me sit down that time and have a talk about respecting my elders or anything, but he talked to me for about five billion hours the next day on the difference between fighter aircrafts and bomber aircrafts in the war.

      I’m not sure if that was intended to be a punishment but it sure felt like one.

      ‘I’m just going to sit and watch movies with Dog. Have a little trust, Father.’

      ‘Not vampire movies?’ He snorted with laughter at his own ‘joke’.

      This is not only unfunny but also grossly unfair considering he was the one who last week recommended the stupid people-slaying child-vampire movie to his fourteen-year-old daughter, alone in the house with only a Labrador for company.

      It’s not as if Dog could protect me. He’s afraid of salad spoons for crying out loud. Whenever we get out the big wooden salad spoon he goes round in circles manically and barks his head off in fear. What would he do if a vampire strolled into the building? I’d had to disturb Dad on his date and make him come home and check there were no vampires around.

      ‘When do I get to meet this girlfriend of yours?’ I asked, ignoring the vampire movie comment and trying to change the subject.

      ‘Soon enough,’ he said breezily, coming back into the room. ‘She’s dying to meet you.’

      ‘I bet.’

      Dad did a last mirror-check in the hall. ‘Not bad for an old man, eh? I reckon I could pass for early thirties.’

      ‘Don’t get ahead of yourself, Gramps. Anyone who talks about Eric Clapton with as much passion as you do could never be a day under forty.’

      ‘That’s enough from you.’ He stood over me. ‘Are you going to be all right? No fires, yes?’

      ‘No fires. No vampires.’

      ‘Call me if you need me.’ He gave my hair a ruffle and then he shot me a long, hard look as though he was trying to read my face.

      ‘Anna . . .’ He hesitated. ‘You do . . . you do like it here in London don’t you?’

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘And you . . . well . . . never mind. Have a nice evening. Bye, Dog.’

      As the door shut, I got a very distinct feeling that my father wasn’t telling me something.

       From: [email protected]

       To: [email protected]

       Subject: Are you a pyromaniac?!

      So I tried looking for you after school but someone said you’d gone home early. And I’ve been trying to call and you’re not picking up your home phone or mobile, which I assume means you and Dog are watching something?

      What happened today?? Is it true that you set the science block on fire??

      Write back asap.

      J x

       From: [email protected]

       СКАЧАТЬ