Suzy P, Forever Me Read online

  In loving memory of Tanneke Doerrleben,

  who always walked on the wild side.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  About the Author

  By the same author:

  Copyright

  CHAPTER ONE

  Well, this sucks.

  I’m standing on the outer edges of Collinsbrooke School’s playing fields, dodging nettles and thistles and trying to avoid any form of participation in the world’s lamest rounders match. The drizzle is making my curly brown hair frizz and I’m shivering in my too-small gym kit.

  It’s my idea of hell.

  I can’t run. Can’t catch. Can’t throw, can’t bat.

  It’s fair to say that rounders is not the sport for me.

  Ugh. I hate PE.

  And I shouldn’t even be here. I dropped the subject as fast as humanly possible when I was choosing my GCSE options and honestly thought my days of hanging around sports fields wearing unflattering nylon outfits were over.

  Apparently not.

  Unfortunately for me and my fellow exercise dodgers, our teachers had other ideas. Over the holidays there were problems between some kids in my year and some students from St Edward’s, on the other side of town. There’s always been a rivalry between us but this summer things kicked off, big-style. (Or as much as things ever kick off around here. It’s hardly gangland central, let’s be honest.)

  The rumours all suggest different things happened to start it – someone got off with someone else’s boyfriend, someone nicked someone else’s bike – nobody really knows for sure, but whatever it was, it got way out of hand. Soon there was a huge fight being organised in the Aldi car park. The police caught wind of it and broke it up, but the teachers went into crisis mode. In their infinite wisdom they decided the best way to smooth things over was this farcical event.

  The letters arrived before we got back to school, telling us the date the reconciliation game would take place, informing us that there would be several matches going on so everyone in the year could participate, that our teams would be mixed, that by the end of it we’d all be friends again, blah blah blardy blah.

  It finished by declaring it wasn’t optional. No excuses.

  Honestly, I sometimes wonder if teachers live on the same planet as the rest of us. I mean, really? How did they think a calm-stormy-waters-with-rounders match was going to help?

  I tried to get out of it, but Mum was having none of it – she was already freaking that she’d never be able to visit Aldi again without being stabbed – hence I’m here. In a bordering-on-indecent kit, because Mum thought after last term I’d never have to do PE again.

  As did I.

  I’m grumpy. I’m bored. And I’m properly tired. My big sister Amber had twin girls a few months ago, and they cry a lot. Mainly at night. There’s not been a whole lot of zeds happening in the Puttock household of late. The tiredness is not helping the boredom any, because even the muddy grass is looking tempting enough to curl up and nap on.

  Admittedly, I’m finding things extra boring because I opted to be a fielder, far, far away from the main action, and deffo the safest place for me. Only it’s really dull standing around a field for hours by yourself with nothing to do. I should’ve brought a book along.

  Although they’ve mixed up the schools between the two teams, the rivalry is still way obvious. There’s been pushing. There’s been shoving. There’s been an awful lot of shouting. But still we’ve not been allowed to bring this whole farce to an end and we’re hating each other more as the games go on.

  Checking my watch, I see it’s not that much longer until this fiasco is over. Thank the Lord and all that is holy for that.

  In the distance, I can almost see my boyfriend of forever, Danny, leaping forward to try to catch someone out. I imagine him looking seriously cute as he bites his lip, fringe flopping over his blue eyes as he frowns in concentration. But he fumbles the ball, and the Collinsbrooke watchers groan. Even from here I can see his ears turning red as he rubs his hands dejectedly through his light brown hair. Poor Danny. His sporting ability’s on a par with mine.

  My best friend, Millie, and her boyfriend, Jamie, were stuck on teams in one of the other matches, the game at the opposite side of the field. I wonder how they’re getting on? Millie’s always stupidly enthusiastic about everything, so she didn’t really mind having to do this, and Jamie’s great at sport. He even chose PE as one of his options, the crazy fool.

  I’m so busy squinting across the field that I don’t notice what’s going on. I tune back in to a load of shouting… uh oh. All of a sudden people seem to be trying awfully hard to get my attention:

  “Suzy, catch it! Suzzzzyyyyyy!”

  Oh God. There’s a ball coming this way.

  Aaaaah, this wasn’t supposed to happen! I’d carefully positioned myself so I wouldn’t have to get involved!

  It seems Kara Walker was up to bat; she’s clobbered the ball crazy hard and is sprinting off round the posts.

  I need to catch the ball.

  I have to catch Kara out.

  She’s one of my least fave people on the planet.

  Only… the ball’s coming so quickly. And if it hits me, it’s going to smash my face in. My nose will be broken. It’ll knock out all my teeth. Oh noooooooo!

  The yells are getting louder. I tell myself I can do this and get in position, hands poised, ready to try and catch – but at the last possible minute I bottle it and leap to one side, cradling my head in my hands.

  Out of the corner of my eye I see the ball bounce onto the floor then roll into the undergrowth at the very back of the field.

  Now all I can hear is booing.

  Gnargh, stupid sporty people. Who cares about this stuff, anyway?

  When the boos have lessened, I risk glancing up. The guys that aren’t on my team are killing themselves laughing; the ones that are seem to want to kill me.

  “Get the ball, Suzy! Get the ball!”

  I can’t even see the ball, but as it’s Jade Taylor bellowing at me, maybe I should make an effort to be getting the blimmin’ thing.

  Jade Taylor. Otherwise known as Queen Bitch, and best friend of Kara. Stunningly gorgeous, stunningly sporty, stunningly competitive and stunningly mean. Me and my mates kind of have a history with these two – it’s fair to say we’re not exactly close since Jade and Kara managed to break up Danny and me for a while as part of a bet. I avoid them as much as possible, only now Jade’s running towards me at speed, huge norks bouncing hypnotically.

  “Where’d it go?” she asks, skidding angrily to a halt next to me.

  “Um, in there somewhere,” I say, gesturing to the grass and brambles.

  “Well, get looking for it, you dozy cow.”

  I don’t dare refuse. She’d make my life
hell if I did.

  Jade and Kara are best friends but also mortal enemies. They are more competitive than anyone else I’ve ever known, which will be why Jade’s so hacked off with me for fumbling the catch. To see Kara get caught out would have made her ecstatically happy, even if it was me who’d made it happen.

  It feels like forever until I see the ball. My arm gets scratched to pieces trying to retrieve it, but eventually I’ve got it in my hand.

  I look upfield.

  It’s an awfully long way. I’m never going to be able to chuck it back to the other players.

  Still, I suppose I should at least have a go. Show willing, that kind of thing. Miss Lewis, our PE teacher, wrote on my report last year that I had an ‘apathetic attitude’. Which is kind of true, I suppose, but not very nice.

  “What are you doing, you utter tool? Stop wasting time,” Jade snaps, snatching the ball and lobbing it powerfully up the field.

  “I… um…”

  This is the point where I need a snappy, witty retort to put Jade firmly in her place. Which will no doubt pop into my head later tonight, but right now, I’ve got nothing.

  Total brain-blank.

  I watch as Jade jogs away, and kick crossly at a clump of mud.

  The game continues for a few more minutes as the last players queue up to bat. The other team wins by a run, and I’m glowered at by most of my teammates as we’re made to line up and shake hands. But then everyone seems to be glowering at everyone else, so maybe it’s not only my fielding that’s the problem.

  Pfff.

  I’d confidently say the calm-stormy-waters-with-rounders peace mission was a big fat fail.

  “Hey,” Danny says, grinning as he jogs over and we head back towards the school. Not for the first time, I think how lovely his smile is. It makes his eyes go all crinkly. He flings an arm around my shoulder and pulls me towards him, kissing my temple.

  “Hey,” I say back. “I’m so glad that’s over. I can’t remember the last time I had such fun. Possibly when I visited Evil Aunt Loon at the nursing home and trod on those false teeth.”

  Danny laughs. “Grim. At least it’s done now. Seen Jamie and Millie?”

  I spot our friends a short distance away, about to come up the steps.

  “They’re over there. Hi, guys,” I say, waving.

  “We won!” Millie says, flicking her newly dyed hair triumphantly. She’s left the back blonde but dyed the rest hot purple. It looks amazing, if a smidge space-age. Only Millie has the confidence to carry off something like that. “That was so much fun. How’d you get on?”

  “Don’t ask.” My stomach growls loudly. “I’m starving. Got any sweets?”

  Millie looks heartbroken. “I haven’t. I’m sorry.”

  We stare at her in shock.

  Millie is pretty much 99% fuelled by sugar, with jelly babies being her favourite. She’s always got sweets within easy reach. This is, after all, the girl who stuffed emergency jelly babies into her bra during a cross-country run, and who took a suitcase of the things with her on holiday in case they didn’t sell them abroad. (We were going to Wales.)

  “How come?” Jamie says. “Have you eaten your daily ration already?”

  Millie sighs heavily. “There were some news reports on how bad sugar is for you and Mum started getting her knickers in a knot that I was going to end up an obese diabetic or something. I’ve promised her I’ll do my best to cut down, but she wants me to go cold turkey. I’d kill any one of you for a sugar hit right now.”

  “In that case, maybe your mum has a point,” Danny says.

  Millie shrugs as I hold open the door so my friends can file inside. “She’s going to give me an iPad if I can last until Christmas,” she says.

  “Wow, that’s a pretty amazing incentive,” I say.

  “If you can manage it,” Jamie says, smiling wickedly. “I can’t see it happening myself.”

  “Hey!” Millie says, swatting him. “Do you really think I won’t be able to do it?”

  “You do have a pretty strong addiction,” Jamie says.

  “Do not. And Christmas isn’t so far off.”

  “It’s months away!” I say.

  “That’s not that long,” Millie says, weakly.

  “We’ll see,” Jamie says. “Catch up with you later.”

  The boys go on ahead as we turn into the girls’ changing rooms.

  Urgh. As if doing PE wasn’t bad enough, the post-sport showers are worse.

  Way, way worse.

  Because who wants to parade around naked in front of their classmates?

  Um, nobody.

  So it’s somewhat unfortunate that Miss Lewis, our teacher, is completely obsessed with personal hygiene and cleanliness, and makes everyone shower after any kind of sporting activity, even if you haven’t broken a sweat because you’ve been standing on the sidelines. She’s physically herded girls into the shower cubicles before. Mortifying.

  But maybe today, if I can get dressed fast enough, she won’t notice… it’s not like I’m pongy or anything, I hardly moved out there.

  I’m about to wiggle into my trousers when Miss Lewis appears in front of me.

  “Have you showered?”

  “Er… yes?”

  Miss Lewis shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “But –”

  “No buts,” Miss Lewis says, pointing in the direction of the showers. “In. Now. Otherwise it’s detention.”

  Yurgh. As if being humiliated on the playing field wasn’t enough, now I’m being humiliated in the changing rooms, too.

  I take off my clothes under my towel before scuttling into a cubicle, intending to take the world’s fastest shower.

  I’ve just turned the water on when…

  Drrrriiiiinggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg!

  Heh? What’s that?

  It can’t be, can it?

  Oh God. It is.

  Fire alarm.

  It’s a fire alarm.

  I am naked in school and the fire alarm is going off.

  I seriously don’t believe this.

  All around me are squeals and yells as girls stampede to get their clothes back on.

  “Okay, everyone, file out to the playground assembly point, as quickly as you can. I haven’t been warned about a drill,” I hear Miss Lewis call.

  I switch the shower off, grab my towel and see everyone disappearing out of the door. I run back to where I’d hung up my stuff… which is no longer there.

  “Hurry up!” Miss Lewis says, sounding increasingly panicky. “We need to leave!”

  Where are my clothes? Wherearetheywherearetheywherearethey?

  I know this is my peg, because my bag’s on it. And my underwear’s shoved inside. And my shoes are underneath. But my clothes – shirt, trousers and jumper – are nowhere to be seen.

  The last few girls leave the room, and now there’s just me and Miss Lewis.

  “Suzy, you need to get out,” Miss Lewis says, getting more and more stressed. “I hope it’s not a fire, but with the St Edward’s team here and all the problems between the schools, anything could have happened.”

  “Um, my clothes have gone,” I mutter.

  “Gone? What do you mean, they’ve gone?”

  In the corridor, a male voice is shouting loudly: “We need everyone out of the building. Everyone outside, as quickly as possible, please.”

  “Suzy, we’re going to have to leave,” Miss Lewis says. She seems awfully flustered. Is there really a fire? Seriously?

  “But I’ve got no clothes!” I squeak.

  “Well, you’ll have to put your kit back on,” Miss Lewis says, starting to usher me towards the door.

  “That’s gone too,” I say.

  “We need everyone out immediately so the firemen can assess the building,” the male voice shouts again.

  “Suzy, there’s no other option. We’ll find your clothes later,” Miss Lewis says. “Wrap your towel around you, it’ll be fine, and here’s m
y cardigan, let’s go, now!”

  “But, but, no…”

  Miss Lewis isn’t listening. And now she’s herding me outside. I’m shuffling along, holding onto my towel so tightly my knuckles are white.

  Waiting in the corridor are several large firemen, who do their best not to laugh when they see me.

  “Outside, straight away,” says one of them. “We’re pretty sure it’s a false alarm, but we need to complete our checks of the building.”

  “Can’t I wait over by the doors?” I plead.

  “Afraid not. We need everyone off the premises,” the fireman says. “You might want to get dressed a bit more quickly next time.”

  Heaving the heaviest of sighs, I push open the doors and walk out, holding onto my towel for dear life and praying that Miss Lewis’s cardigan covers up more than I think it does.

  Everyone’s gathered together on the tennis courts, trying not to look impressed by the firemen or the fire engines, and probably already gossiping about who it was that set off the alarm. I certainly can’t see any smoke.

  And then there’s the horrible moment when I’m spotted.

  One person points me out to their neighbour and the news spreads until the whole playground is cracking up. I can’t see Millie, Jamie or Danny anywhere, but at the front of the crowd are Jade and Kara.

  They’re killing themselves laughing and then Jade tugs the waistband of her trousers slightly down. Underneath is another pair of trousers. My trousers. And then Kara pulls the neckline of her shirt aside to reveal she’s wearing another shirt underneath. My shirt.

  They’re wearing my clothes.

  There are not enough words in the world to describe how much I hate them both right now.

  Rounders couldn’t do it, but it seems the afternoon has finally provided a common goal for everyone to bond over: laughing at me wrapped in a towel and the PE teacher’s cardigan.

  Mrs Cooper, the headteacher, rushes over. “Miss Lewis, what are you thinking, letting Suzy outside dressed like that?”

  “She couldn’t find her clothes and the firemen said we had to evacuate. I thought there could be a fire…”

  Mrs Cooper shakes her head slightly. “There’s no fire. We think it’s a false alarm. Suzy, back inside, quickly.”

  As Miss Lewis ushers me indoors, I can hear Mrs Cooper shouting at the assembled crowd, “Anyone taking photographs or making videos of what happened here had better delete them immediately. If any find their way online, it will result in an immediate suspension from school, do you understand?”