What’s Up With Jody Barton?, page 6
‘I’ll pay you double bubble,’ said my mum. ‘It’s hardly busy in here. And, anyway, Jolene will be home any second so you won’t be on your own.’
And, even though I’d decided that I definitely was not going to be about when Liam rocked up to collect his phone, I agreed. Because double bubble is a very difficult offer to turn down.
And the truth is that, however much I told myself I didn’t want to see Liam, I knew that, deep deep down, I very seriously did.
So I pulled an orange apron over my head, plonked myself down on a stool behind the counter and fixed my eyes on the clock on the wall.
And I waited.
At 3.41, Jolene rushed in, rushed over to me, said, ‘I can’t believe you bunked off school today! We’ll talk about it later,’ and then rushed upstairs to make herself look beautiful for Liam.
At 3.57, she came down again. She’d swapped her school uniform for her Chunky’s Diner uniform and some make-up. It wasn’t ideal, but she still looked quite nice.
At 4.00, Liam didn’t arrive.
‘Oh crap,’ said Jolene. ‘Do you think he’s gonna come?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘He said about four o’clock. It’s only four o’clock now. Give him a chance.’
At 4.32, Liam still hadn’t arrived so Jolene rushed upstairs to freshen up.
At 4.43, she came down again. Personally, I thought she looked slightly less nice than she did before.
There was still no sign of Liam.
At 5.06, Jolene rushed upstairs to reapply her make-up. If she’d asked for my advice, I’d have told her not to bother. She’d already blatantly overdone the black eye-gunk as it was. Her eyelids were practically collapsing under the stuff. But as usual she hadn’t asked for my advice. She never does about make-up. Only about maths homework.
At 5.14, the front door of the cafe opened.
It was him!
My stomach did a somersault.
Apart from Whispering Bob Harris and a couple of old ladies who were taking advantage of the Chunky’s Diner BOGOF on pensioner meals, it was just the two of us. My mum was still across the road at A Tan for All Seasons and Jolene was still putting on more make-up. Unfortunately, I was in the middle of scoffing a sneaky fried-egg sandwich. Liam looked over and waved at me at the exact same moment that I stuck my tongue out to stop runny egg yolk dribbling down my chin.
I’m beginning to understand why there has never been a queue of people desperate to go out with me.
Liam was wearing the moss-green parka again. I don’t believe there’s anyone in the world who looks as good in a moss-green parka as he does. Underneath it, I could see a fraction of his school uniform. But not enough to see which school he actually went to. He was wet from the rain and his trousers were soggy where they’d dragged on the ground. I could tell that they’d been deliberately unstitched at the hems to make them as long as possible. Most people would look skanky in unstitched trousers like that. But not him.
He crossed over to the counter and said, ‘Hi. You’ve got my phone I think.’ And then he said, ‘You missed a bit,’ and tapped his own chin to show me where I’d still got egg stuck to mine.
My hand flew up to my face.
Liam grinned and said, ‘Got you! I’m just kidding. Your face is fine.’
He was looking right at me. He thought my face was fine! I looked back at him and smiled. And in that second, I got a clear view of his eyes. Even though he has River Phoenix’s face, his eyes are completely different. River’s eyes were green. (I’ve got no idea what colour Jim Morrison’s eyes were, because all the posters I have of him are black and white.)
But Liam has eyes the colour of conkers.
And his eyelashes are amazing too. You wouldn’t normally think that eyelashes could be particularly amazing, but his are. They’re long and curly and they look nice. Jolene’s eyelashes never look as nice as his even though she uses a lorry-load of mascara.
But then I bit my lip and looked at the floor. Without risking another look at him, I said, ‘Actually it’s not me you want, it’s my sister. She’s just popped upstairs. I’ll give her a shout.’
Liam looked surprised. ‘Didn’t sound like your sister I spoke to on the blower. Sounded exactly like you.’
I shook my head. ‘No, it was definitely her. We’re twins.’
‘Even so . . .’ said Liam. But I didn’t let him finish. I hurried over to the STAFF ONLY door, opened it and yelled up, ‘Jolene, the guy for the phone is here.’
When my sister feels like it, she’s got bionic hearing. From somewhere way up higher I heard our front door open and Jolene shout back, ‘Ohmigodohmigodohmigod,’ and then I heard the thump of her feet on the stairs.
Without another glance in Liam’s direction, I said, ‘This is her now,’ and scarpered.
Whispering Bob Harris was eating ham, egg and chips in one of the window seats. I noticed that his egg had been giving him grief as well. He’d dripped it all over the table. I grabbed a cloth and said, ‘Would you like me to wipe that for you, sir?’
WBH cupped his hand behind his ear and said, ‘Speak up, son. I can’t hear you.’
I smiled. I always do when he says this. For some reason, it just totally tickles my pickles. He even calls my mum son. I waved my cloth at him and wiped the table. I was still doing this when, behind me, Jolene announced her arrival with a big cheery ‘Hiya’.
I heard Liam say hi back.
‘Hi-de-fipping-hi,’ I muttered into my dishcloth. To be honest, I was starting to feel really crap. It’s not easy being nice and setting your sister up with a boy who looks like River Phoenix. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if it’s one of the hardest things to do in the whole world. I reckon it’s even more difficult than Fermat’s Last Theorem – and, according to the Guinness Book of World Records, Fermat’s Last Theorem is the most difficult maths problem in the entire history of maths. Except that Mr Fermat did eventually come up with an answer so it wasn’t that blinking tricky.
‘Speak up, son. I can’t hear you,’ bellowed Whispering Bob Harris.
‘I didn’t say anything,’ I bellowed back.
Whispering Bob Harris put his hand up to his mouth as if he wanted to tell me a secret, leaned forward and thundered, ‘What the heck is that one over there wearing? She’s forgotten her blinking trousers!’ And then he nodded his head in Jolene’s direction.
I turned round.
Instantly, my jaw dropped and my heart sank. I’d just done something really generous and unselfish. For her. For her to have another chance with Luscious Liam. And she’d already blown it.
And then my mouth closed and my heart lifted right up.
Good, I thought. Good. Good. Good.
And then my heart sank again. Because I didn’t feel good at all. I felt guilty.
Jolene hadn’t only tampered with her make-up – she’d tampered with her clothes too. And for someone who’s had more hot dates than an African calendar she’d got her entire look completely wrong. The usual Chunky’s uniform – orange apron, orange T-shirt and black trousers – had been ditched in favour of a pink crop top and a pair of silver shorts which were so short that, on first glance, it looked as if she’d just wrapped a bit of baking foil round her bum.
Beyoncé Knowles could easily get away with this, but Jolene Barton just looked stupid.
Weirdest of all, though, were the socks she was wearing. They had blue and white stripes on and were pulled up high over her knees.
Queens Park Rangers football socks.
I shook my head and moved on to wipe another table. Jolene was blatantly trying way too hard. Anyone with eyes could see that Liam is not the type of person to get excited by a tragic Trudy Try-Hard.
Whispering Bob Harris bellowed, ‘Service please!’
I chucked my cloth down and went back to see what he wanted. He had the wipe-clean menu open in front of him.
I said, ‘How can I help you, sir?’
WBH said, ‘Speak up, son. I can’t hear you!’ And then he tapped a picture of a slice of apple pie and bellowed, ‘And custard. And a cuppa tea.’
This time my pickles weren’t tickled. In fact, I was feeling thoroughly fed up. Before I could think about what I was saying, I bellowed back, ‘No problem, son.’ And then, immediately, I felt ashamed for disrespecting someone who is older than God. Then I remembered that WBH can’t hear anyway and felt OK again.
But as I began to walk off he bellowed, ‘What the bloody hell is up with you today?’ So I’m not actually sure whether he heard me or not.
Liam was leaning against the counter and talking to Jolene. He had a silly grin on his lovely face. She had one on hers too. I know for a fact that there wasn’t one on mine. I opened the fridge, took out a slice of apple pie, whacked it into a dish and then slammed the whole lot into the microwave. Being a good twin and doing a seriously unselfish thing is not something I can wholeheartedly recommend.
I heard Liam say, ‘You sound totally different in real life to how you do on the phone.’
And I heard Jolene say, ‘Yeah, well, yesterday I had a snotty cold.’
I took a can of custard out of the cupboard, attacked it with a can-opener and pretended that it was Jolene’s head.
Liam said, ‘So can I have my phone back then?’
Jolene said, ‘Yeah. It’s in my dad’s office. I’ll go and get it. So what’s your name? Liam what?’
I stopped attacking the can so that I could listen better.
‘Mackie,’ said Liam.
So that explained the ringtone. ‘Return of the Mack’.
Jolene said, ‘Which school do you go to?’
Liam grinned and pulled a face. ‘What is this? Twenty questions?’
‘I’m just asking,’ stropped Jolene. ‘I didn’t realize I needed some sort of licence! Jeez!’
I smiled and set back to work on the can of custard.
Liam said, ‘Hey, I like your socks. So you’re a QPR fan?’
Jolene’s voice brightened right up. ‘Oh yeah, I love them. Best football team in the whole of London.’
I smiled again. In fact, I nearly laughed out loud. I have to hand it to Jolene. If there’s something she really, really wants, she makes a proper effort to go out and get it. Having those words in her mouth must have made her want to vom.
Liam said, ‘It’s funny that. Because you’ve got the Spurs logo all over your nails.’
I closed my eyes. She makes a proper effort. But she’s also a proper muppet.
But then again she’s also my twin sister and listening to her massively FAIL with the bloke of her dreams was beginning to make me feel pretty awkward and uncomfortable.
I turned round and said, ‘For your information, we’re a two-team family. Spurs and QPR. Always have been. Always will be.’
‘Your dad didn’t seem like much of a QPR fan,’ said Liam.
‘He’s not,’ I said. ‘But my mum is. And so are me and Jolene.’
Jolene looked at me and smiled. And it was such a grateful smile that, for a second, I wanted to cry. When all is said and done, nobody could ever come between me and her. Not even Liam Mackie.
Liam smiled at me too. ‘Fair enough. So maybe I’ll see you at a Rangers match one day.’
My heart stopped. Had he just said that to me? To be honest, I hate football. Normally, I’d rather shave my eyeballs than watch an entire game. But if he was asking . . .
Jolene said, ‘Cool! When are they playing next? We could combine it with a burger somewhere and then maybe go on to the cinema afterwards and catch a film. I really want to see Mothello. It’s a 3D cartoon tragedy involving a massively jealous moth. I don’t know you yet, Liam, but my guess is that you’d completely love it. So what do you say?’
My sister may be a muppet. But she’s an über-confident one.
Liam smiled again. And then he started to laugh. ‘Cartoon moths? Nah, I don’t think so. Can I have my phone back though?’
The microwave pinged. I took WBH’s apple pie out and poured cold custard over it. And then I put it back in.
Jolene said, ‘I’ll get your phone, shall I?’
I didn’t need to look at her to know that she was properly cheesed off. Her voice had turned so frosty that she sounded like she could spit ice cubes. My sister Jolene doesn’t like being knocked back. Especially not twice in two days from the exact same guy.
Without another word, she went off to get Liam’s phone from the tiny cupboard underneath the stairs that my dad calls his OPERATIONS OFFICE.
Liam folded his arms on the counter and grinned at me. ‘No offence to your sister,’ he said. ‘She just ain’t my type.’
‘Oh,’ I said.
Liam laughed again and said, ‘Does she do the talking for both of you?’
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. My voice-box had packed up. And actually this was massively inconvenient because if it had been working I’d have used it to shout,
‘What about me, Liam?
Am I your type?’
But because I was speechless I just went all hot and prickly and stared at the microwave and felt massively humongously and incredibly awkward.
For a moment, the only things that could be heard at our end of the cafe were the whirring of the microwave and a particularly loud conversation between the two BOGOF old ladies who were sitting close to the counter. They were so old that it’s possible they were even older than Whispering Bob Harris. They were talking about childbirth. One of them said, ‘Do you know what, Doreen? Fourteen hours I was in labour with my Bobby. Fourteen hours! And he had a head like an oversized watermelon. I don’t know how I managed. I’ll tell you one thing for sure, though, I ain’t ever going through all that again!’
The other old lady said, ‘Well, Vee, you don’t need to tell me about pain. When I had my Carol, it turned out that my trapdoor weren’t big enough. The midwife had to–’
I rushed to the stereo and pressed play on the MP3. The sound of Johnny Cash filled the cafe. My dad’s favourite. Not mine though. In my opinion, Johnny Cash’s voice is shiftier than Titch’s and twice as terrifying. I switched the stereo off again.
Liam said, ‘Hey, can’t you leave that on? Johnny Cash is a dude!’
My eyebrows shot off the top of my head, but I switched Johnny Cash back on again. To be fair, perhaps I’ve never really given him a proper listen.
The front door opened and, briefly, the noise of cars and buses splashing down Willesden High Road in the rain mixed into the general Johnny Cash versus Childbirth Horror Story audio mash-up. I looked up and then immediately wished I hadn’t. Chatty Chong was walking towards me.
Chatty Chong plonked his school bag down on the counter. Then, after a suspicious sideways glance at Liam Mackie, he said, ‘You weren’t in Maths Club, yeah?’
‘No,’ I said. Although, to be strictly honest, I didn’t really say it. It was more of a mortified mumble.
Liam Mackie grinned and said, ‘Maths Club? Rock and roll!’
My face started burning. Chatty Chong shot another suspicious sideways glance at Liam and then he said, ‘Come to think of it, you weren’t in maths either.’
I didn’t say anything. I just frowned at Chatty Chong and telepathically told him to clear off.
He didn’t clear off though. Instead, he said, ‘So what time do you finish in here? Do you wanna come over to mine after and draw some isosceles triangles, yeah?’
‘Not really,’ I mumbled.
Liam’s eyes boggled. Shaking his head in amazement, he said, ‘Do you wanna draw some isosceles triangles?’ And then he started laughing so hard that he had to put his head down on the counter.
I turned away and stared at WBH’s apple pie and custard. According to the timer on the microwave, it still needed another minute and forty seconds. Not that I actually needed a poxy microwave to warm anything up – I could have just used the heat from my face.
Chatty Chong said, ‘Ain’t this a good time?’
‘Not really,’ I said.
Chatty Chong was silent for a second. He gave a long, hard look at Liam Mackie and then he gave a long, hard look at me. And then, after what felt like a solid hour of long, hard looking, he picked up his bag and walked out of the cafe.
‘Rock and roll,’ said Liam again, and he began to sing along to the Johnny Cash song playing on the stereo. It was a song about a boy called Sue. It’s probably my least favourite song of all time.
During a quiet bit in the record, I heard the old lady called Vee say to the old lady called Doreen, ‘Does your trapdoor still give you trouble? Mine does on odd occasions.’
But to my relief I never got to hear Doreen’s reply because the front door opened again. My mum was back from the tanning salon.
‘Hiya, baby,’ she said, and waved at me.
‘Hiya, Mum,’ I said, and waved back. I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to see her in my whole life. I didn’t even mind too much that she’d called me baby.
The microwave pinged. I took the apple pie and custard out of it.
My mum closed up her umbrella and took her raincoat off. Underneath it, she was wearing a little strappy sundress. I hadn’t noticed that she’d been wearing that earlier. But, then again, she always wears summer clothes when she’s popping over to A Tan for All Seasons. She reckons it helps her get into the tanning mood. As she walked through the cafe, she almost looked like Cameron Diaz. Just a slightly more knackered version.
My mum said, ‘Where’s Jolene? Skiving off again?’ And then she looked at Liam and said, ‘And who’s this handsome feller? A new friend?’
Cameron Diaz might have the edge on my mum when it comes to looks but I doubt she could beat my mum in a competitive cringe-off.
‘Don’t be daft,’ I snapped. ‘He’s just some random customer who came in to collect his stupid phone. Jolene’s gone to get it for him.’ And then I sploshed tea into a mug, picked up the molten hot bowl of apple pie and custard and got out of the way before my mum could say anything worse.
As I was putting WBH’s stuff down in front of him, I heard my mum say to Liam, ‘I must apologize to you, sweetheart. My children have got shocking manners. I don’t know where I’ve gone wrong with them, I honestly don’t. And what’s your name, my lovely?’
