What’s Up With Jody Barton?, page 13
‘Totally.’
Jolene smiled and linked her arm through mine. ‘Come on then. I’m totes with you!’
We did a 90° direction shift so that we could both look out for the number 266 which passes in front of the tube station and goes to Brent Cross. But we’d not been looking for more than ten seconds before a big loud mouth further along the pavement shouted, ‘HEY JOLENE, WHERE ARE YOU ROLLING?’
Jolene immediately did a 90° direction reversal.
‘Oh no,’ I said, and did some silent inner swearing. And then I turned too. I pretty much knew what I was about to see though.
Natalie Snell and Latasha Joy had got off the bus. They were hurrying along the pavement to join us. Well, not really us. Just Jolene.
Jolene flicked her fringe and turned her volume up. ‘Wassup, sistas?’
Natalie and Latasha continued rushing forward until they were both about one millimetre away from Jolene’s face and then stopped. Natalie opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue – which had a bit of metal sunk into it – and said, ‘Check out my new piercing!’ And then she said, ‘So where are you rolling at? School ain’t that way.’
And Latasha jiggled her jubblies and said, ‘Yeah, you can’t get to it on the Jubilee Line.’
I put my hands in my pockets, crossed my fingers and secretly prayed, ‘Please don’t tell them where we’re going. Please don’t tell them where we’re going.’
Jolene said, ‘We ain’t getting on the tube. We’re waiting for the bus. Bro-Jo and me are going to Brent Cross. Wanna come?’
Noooooooooo, I secretly screamed. Publicly, I looked at Jolene, raised my eyebrows and said, ‘Bro-Jo?’
Jolene said, ‘Yeah. You’re my bro and your name is Jo. So what’s your beef?’
I really wish Jolene would stop speaking like she’s Jay-Z every time she gets together with Snelljoy. In a very sensible voice I said, ‘I don’t have any beef, Jolene. But I was going to tell you something, remember?’
Natalie Snell said, ‘Brent Cross is yesterdays though. Nowadays, everyone gets on the Jubilee Line to Bond Street and then changes to a Central Line train for Stratford and then walks to the bus stop at Angel Lane and gets on a 241 to Stratford City and then just does all their business in the bling new shopping centre at Westfield. Why are you still bothering with Brent Cross?’
And Latasha Joy said, ‘Yeah, Jolene, Brent Cross is soooooo local!’
But before my sister had a chance to reply, Natalie Snell waggled a finger in her face and said, ‘That kid I was telling you about in my geography class — Tyler Smith — he’s still WELL got the hots for you, ain’t it?’
And Latasha Joy added, ‘He’s Natalie’s cousin. He’s proper nanging.’
Natalie Snell said, ‘Are you totes one hundred per cent certain you ain’t interested?’
And Latasha Joy added, ‘Liam’s hot, yeah? But there ain’t no way he’s more of a buff bomb than Nat’s cousin.’
I held my breath.
Jolene reddened. ‘I’m not going out with Liam any more.’ Her volume had gone back down to normal.
Natalie Snell’s mouth fell open so that we could both see her tongue stud again. Then she said, ‘OMG! Message me!’
And Latasha Joy jabbed an invisible keypad with her index finger and said, ‘Don’t go through the break-up on your own, Jolene.’
I think they’d all forgotten about me. Even though there wasn’t a bus coming, I pulled Jolene’s sleeve and said, ‘Come on, let’s get going.’
But Jolene just kept on facing Natalie and Latasha and said, ‘This Tyler kid. Are you gonna be seeing him today?’
Natalie Snell’s eyes lit up. ‘You want me to have a word?’ Her volume had gone down a bit as well.
Lastasha Joy said, ‘Nat and Ty are cousins. Nat can fix you up with him no bother.’ Her volume was still cranked up to the max.
‘Come on, Jolene,’ I said. To my relief, I could now see the 266 making its way towards us down the road. But Jolene just kept on looking at Natalie and Latasha and said, ‘I am single. And if he likes me, I’m not outright saying no I won’t go out with him if I like him. If you know what I mean.’
‘Of course,’ said Natalie.
‘Totes,’ said Latasha.
I was just confused. I pulled Jolene’s sleeve again, nodded towards the 266, which was pulling up beside us, and said, ‘Are we going or what?’
‘I can set you up with him at break-time if you like,’ said Natalie.
‘She can do it easy,’ added Latasha, who had finally decided to ditch the shouting too.
Jolene said, ‘Really? Ohmigodohmigod.’ And then she turned to me and said, ‘Can we have that chat later? This could be one of those life-changing moments you always hear about.’
I puffed out my cheeks until they went puh. And then I said, ‘So you’re not coming with me then?’
Jolene said, ‘Nah. Is that OK?’
And I said, ‘Right. OK. Right.’ And I picked up my school bag and boarded the bus by myself.
I know it’s wrong to generalize, but my dad was right about women. They change their minds as often as they change their earrings.
It was a depressing ride to Brent Cross. The bus driver might as well have been taking me to a place called Grand Central Despair because I had this hopeless feeling of looming doom every single second of the way – and even though I kept closing my eyes and thinking really hard about maths, I couldn’t quite shake it. So in the end I just stared out at the grey streets of Brent and kept anxiously looking at my phone every four seconds to check that Liam Mackie hadn’t sent me any more terrifying texts.
To my relief, my phone was quiet. I knew it couldn’t last though.
But it did for a while. My phone stayed silent and asleep for the whole time that I hung around the Hollister shop, the whole time that I played around on the escalators and almost all the time that I sat in Super Burger and slow-drank a cup of tea. And then, just as I was getting up to go, my phone buzzed and vibrated and woke up again.
It was a message.
Without breathing, I clicked on the envelope and read it.
It was really good of him to put his name at the bottom. I’d never have guessed who it was from otherwise.
I collapsed back down in my seat and put my head in my hands.
This was easily the worst mess I’d ever been in. Fermat’s Last Theorem must have been a doddle compared to this.
Because I couldn’t think of what to do for the best, I just sat there. And I’d probably have sat there until the whole building closed – but then a voice too close to my head said, ‘Penny for your thoughts.’
I jumped and lifted my head up. The whiskery face of a very old lady was staring straight at me from a distance that was well within my personal space barrier. I jumped again and said, ‘Waaarrgh!’ And then I realized I knew this old lady. It was Doreen who comes into our cafe.
‘Sorry, sweetheart,’ she said. ‘Didn’t mean to scare the crap out of you. I just saw you sitting there on your own – looking like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders – and I thought I should say something. Check you’re OK. You’re Chunky’s boy, ain’t you?’
‘Mm,’ I said, and started to get up.
Doreen called over to the Super Burger counter and said, ‘Oi, lovey! I know you don’t normally do table service but be a good lad and bring us over another cuppa, will you? And make it a nice strong one with two sugars. This boy needs a good brew.’
‘Oh, no . . . really, it’s OK,’ I said. ‘I need to be going anyway.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Doreen. ‘You’ll ruddy well do as you’re told and sit down with me and Vee for a bit.’ And then she waved to someone on the other side of the Super Burger eating area and I saw that Vee was sitting at another table and already pulling up a third chair so I could join them.
My heart sank. I was totally not in the mood. To be honest, I don’t think there’s ever been an occasion when I might have been in the mood for this situation. And I don’t think there ever will be. But it’s not nice to argue with old ladies so I forced my mouth into the shape of a smile and politely followed Doreen over to her table.
‘I can’t stay long,’ I said. ‘I’ve really got to go.’
‘Of course you have,’ said Doreen, and looked at me over the top of her glasses. ‘Because school starts in a minute, doesn’t it. Or did it start about two and a half hours ago?’
I didn’t say anything.
Doreen took the lid off my styrofoam cup of tea and pushed it across the table to me. ‘To be honest, sweetheart, you’re doing us a favour. It’s not often we get to sit and talk to handsome young fellers like you any more, is it, Vee?’
Vee leaned forward. ‘No, darling,’she said to me. ‘Although, strictly speaking, I never really spoke to too many handsome young fellers even when I was in my prime. And Doreen definitely didn’t. She always went out with right shockers.’
I smiled. I couldn’t help it. They were forcing me to.
Doreen said, ‘I see that cuppa tea is working its magic. There’s nothing in this world that a cuppa tea can’t fix. Is there, Vee?’
‘Nothing,’ agreed Vee. ‘If they took Tony Blair and Barack Obama and the ayatollah and that tiny little Frenchman with the big heels and that hunky Russian prime minister, Vladimir Rasputin and put them altogether in my front room with a great big pot of tea and a jar of ginger hard-bakes, you’d have every single one of the world’s problems sorted out by the end of the day. You mark my words!’
‘But Tony Blair’s not in charge any more,’ I said. ‘He got kicked out ages ago.’
Vee pulled her neck back and looked at me as if she totally disagreed. And then she shrugged her shoulders, sipped her tea and went into a sulk.
Doreen said, ‘We’ve been doing a lovely spot of shopping. There’s a Buy One Get One Free offer on at Miss Seventy so we both got ourselves a brand-new pair of slacks, didn’t we, Vee?’
Vee nodded but didn’t say anything. I think she was still cheesed off about the Tony Blair thing. I didn’t say anything either because I didn’t have the faintest clue what slacks were.
Doreen smiled at me and said, ‘And what about you? What brings you here today?’
‘Not much,’ I said.
Doreen nodded. ‘A change of scenery, is it? Sometimes a change is as good as a rest.’ And then she smiled at me again and said, ‘Especially when you’ve got the weight of the world on your bonce.’
I squeezed my styrofoam cup. ‘I haven’t. I’m fine. Really I am.’
Doreen patted my arm. ‘Do you know who the wisest person alive in the world today is?’
‘Nope,’ I said. ‘Do you?’
She nodded. ‘Yes I do, dear. Do you want me to tell you?’
‘OK,’ I said. To be fair, I was genuinely quite interested.
‘Oprah Winfrey,’ she said. ‘Ain’t that right, Vee?’
Vee nodded and perked up. ‘Absolutely. There’s nothing Oprah couldn’t help you with. If she sat down in my front room with Tony Blair and Barack Obama and the ayatollah and that little Frenchman with the big nose and Rasputin, you’d have the world’s problems sorted out in no time.’
I decided not to say anything this time.
Doreen said, ‘I’m a big fan of Oprah. She says a lot of sensible things. And one of those things was this.’ Doreen paused, closed her eyes and clasped her hands in front of her. And then – in an American accent – she said, ‘Difficulties come when you don’t pay attention to life’s whisper. Life always whispers to you first. But if you ignore the whisper, sooner or later you’ll get a scream.’
It was by far the freakiest thing I have ever witnessed in my whole life.
Apart from that though, the words did make sense.
Doreen opened her eyes. ‘Whatever is troubling you, young man, you’ve got to listen to the whisper. You can’t ignore it. You’ve got to listen to what your heart is telling you. And then somehow – by hook or by crook – you’ll get through it. Ain’t that right, Vee?’
Vee nodded thoughtfully. ‘It certainly is, Doreen. It certainly is.’
I left them to it shortly after that. I went and sat by the fountain in the middle of the shopping centre. I kept on thinking about what Oprah Winfrey had said. She was right. Life does whisper. I had a whisper in my head all right. I just wasn’t sure if I wanted to listen to it.
And I was still thinking about all this when Jolene showed up.
Before she even said a single word, I knew she knew. And she knew I knew she knew. It was blatantly obvious all round.
Her eyes were almost as puffy as my fist-damaged one and her mascara was seriously smudged.
I blew out my cheeks until they made that puh sound and then I said, ‘I’m so sorry.’
Jolene sniffed and folded her arms really tightly. And then she sat down next to me on the edge of the fountain. I didn’t know what else to say so I waited for her to speak first.
A googolplex of years passed. And then she said, ‘So guess what, Jody. Liam phoned me.’
I folded my arms really tightly too and looked down at my hi-tops. We’re not allowed to wear hi-tops to school. When I’d put them on, the one certain thing in my head had been that I definitely wasn’t going in.
Jolene said, ‘It’s bad enough that you hit on my boyfriend behind my back, but do you know what really upsets me?’
My hand moved up to my mouth and, for a moment, I bit my fingernails. But then I stopped and moved my hand up to cover my eyes instead. Tears had started leaking out all over the place.
Jolene said, ‘I don’t give a flying monkey that you’re gay. But you never told me. I’m your twin sister and you never told me.’
I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand and swallowed down the enormous lump that had grown in my throat.
‘I couldn’t,’ I croaked. ‘How could I? I’m not sure that I am gay. It was just him, that’s all.’
Jolene sucked her cheeks in. ‘So you’re blaming Liam? It’s his fault, is it?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘It’s not his fault. It’s not anybody’s fault. I just . . . liked him. Really liked him. I thought he was beautiful. I thought he was River Phoenix.’
And then I stopped speaking and covered my eyes up again because – however much I wanted to ignore the whispers in my heart – I realized that what I’d just said couldn’t have sounded any gayer if I’d tried.
Jolene sat next to me for a moment or two and didn’t move a muscle. And then she said, ‘So you tried to get off with Liam and waited for him to tell me instead. That’s nice. That’s good to know. Thanks very much, Bro-Jo.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. I don’t know if she heard it though. The lump in my throat was so huge that I could hardly breathe.
Jolene stood up. ‘I don’t care about Liam. Turns out he’s a Nasty Boy, anyway. But I care about you. Or I did.’ She sniffed and lifted her eyes so that they were staring straight into mine. And when she looked at me there was no fury or fire or fight, just a dull, dead look of disappointment. She sniffed again and said, ‘Go and get yourself another twin, Jody.’
And then she walked away and left me sitting there.
The library at Willesden Green is so close to our cafe that it’s almost a part of it. All my life it’s been there, and all my life I’ve breezed in and out of its big front doors and felt so totally at home that I pretty much feel like part of the furniture. In fact, that library is a bit like my own personal chill-out zone. Except that I share it with thousands of other people. And we all breeze about the rows of books and read and surf and chat and type and cough and whisper and sit and stare and doze and daydream and somehow manage to stay fairly and squarely and absolutely well and truly OUT of each other’s way. So, although it’s always busy, it’s actually one of the most peaceful and calming places in the whole of Willesden Green. Perhaps, even, the world.
And the day after that terrible conversation with my sister Willesden Library became more than just a place to chill out. It became the place that saved my life.
Because, until I pushed open those big double doors, I was running on empty with nowhere to go.
Basically, it was like this: I couldn’t stay at home unless I faked the plague, but if I faked the plague my mum would have sent me straight back to Superman. And Superman had turned out to be a total letdown.
I couldn’t sit in Gladstone Park all day because Gladstone Park in February is not the warmest place in the world to stop and sit. In fact, it’s so flipping freezing that it can actually make your acorns ache.
I couldn’t wander around Brent Cross Shopping Centre all day because I didn’t want to see that stupid fountain ever again.
I couldn’t wander around central London all day because wandering around central London is only fun with wads of wonga in your pocket and at least one friend to keep you company. When you’re on your own and broke, it tends to be a bit depressing.
And I absolutely definitely could not go to school because everyone there was blabbing about what I’d done. And I knew this for a fact because they were kind enough to keep me informed.
My phone can’t get the internet. It’s too much of a Shame Box. But it still gets texts. And Tuesday afternoon, before I’d even made it back from Brent Cross Shopping Centre, it started getting more texts than usual.
I was still sitting by that fountain – feeling flipping terrible — when my phone buzzed.
I pulled it out of my pocket to look at it. And I saw a single word written on my screen:
Battyman
I’ve got no idea who typed that word and sent it to me.
But I knew what it meant.
I sat by the fountain and stared at my phone until my eyeballs hurt. And then I switched it off, caught a 266 back to Willesden and went straight home to bed.
I didn’t even have any tea. When my mum pushed her head round the door to tell me that tea was on the table, I told her I was on a one-day detox.
