Seven Days by Eve Ainsworth

Author:Eve Ainsworth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic UK
Published: 2014-12-19T16:00:00+00:00

Marnie is sitting opposite me, pulling her “when will she shut up?” face. I really don’t mind Julie going on. She has a loud, friendly voice that makes me want to smile (most of the time). Just as long as she doesn’t start on me. I’m just glad I was allowed to stay another night.

“Honestly, Marnie, all I’m saying is you’ve got to try harder,” Julie says as she shuffles across the kitchen, busying herself making coffee.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Marnie now has her head resting on the kitchen table.

“I just hate calls from the school. You know that. Your Head of Year seems pretty concerned. Says you have so much potential.”

More than me, that’s for sure. I wonder if they’ve tried to call home. I think Mum only gave them her number. God knows what would happen if Dad was ever contacted. I shift in my seat at the thought.

“I’m just asking you to try harder, that’s all. You don’t want to end up like me, do you?” She gestures at her skinny, bronzed body. “Five nights in a pub and trying to run an Avon catalogue. Hardly a shining example of success, am I?”

“You do OK,” Marnie mumbles.

“But you could do better!” Julie’s eyes flicker over to me and I swear I see something there. I don’t know what it is. Resentment? Blame? I quickly turn my face and look back at my phone. It’s still sitting in my hand, staring at me blankly. No message from Lyn yet. Why hasn’t he replied? I sent him a sweet message as soon as I woke up, but still nothing from him.

“What did you two get up to last night anyway?” Julie asks too brightly.

“Nothing,” says Marnie, her head still buried.

“We just walked about,” I say.

“Not too late I hope. There’s nutters about you know. That Terry at number twelve hasn’t cleaned his curtains in years. And his eyes point in different directions.”

“Hardly makes him a paedo,” says Marnie.

“Whatever. You’d soon be running to me if you were buried under a foot of concrete in his back garden.”

“Urgh, Mum, you’re so sad.”

My phone buzzes, the tiny vibrations sending prickles of hope down my spine. He’s replied.

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