It's Not Fair! Chapter 1

“Who’s about to leave their homework behind on the bench?!
“Me. Sorry. Thanks, Dad.” Charlie was busy eating her breakfast as fast as she could – the school bus was nearly due.
“And I need a favour from one of you at the end of the summer holidays. I’ve a new colleague starting at the lab, and his son’s going to be going to your school. Will one of you show him round the town a bit and so on?” “The last two weeks? But that’s the only time Chloe and me and Poppy are all here together. Dad, that’s not fair! I can’t miss out on seeing my bezzies for someone I don’t even know.”
“I don’t mind,” Charlie said through a mouthful of pancake. “Hanako’s at her violin camp. As long as I don’t have to see too much of him if I really don’t like him.”
“That’s reasonable,” her dad agreed. “Thanks, Charlie.” “Mum, my bedroom really needs like, updating. I mean, look at it! A unicorn bed? That’s so stint. It’s like, totally babiesville.”
“It was also like, totally expensiveville, as I remember,” her mother said drily.
“Yeah, well, Grandma and Grandpa H paid half of it. But I’m, like, ashamed to bring my friends here now. Mum, I need to update. No-one will take me seriously with a unicorn bed.” “The thing is,” Jonnie said to David, “she’s got a point. That room does look babyish.”
“Only because she insisted on having it like that when she was younger. How come she got the bigger bedroom anyway? Charlie’s older.”
“She made a fuss. Charlie didn’t. And my mother gave her that dressing table – it wouldn’t fit into the little bedroom.”
“We could extend, you know – look, the Awabis have, and they’ve only got Hanako.” “Mrs Awabi told me it was so they didn’t have Hanako practising her violin downstairs!”
“I can see their point! Look, the Annottos have built out onto the front.”
“Yes, well, their girls get on so well, they like sharing a bedroom!”
“Point taken.” “Look, that house is extended at the back – bigger kitchen.”
“That would be nice too – shall we extend front and back and upstairs?”
David laughed. “That might work out a bit too expensive.”
“Yes, but it might give us the space we need to keep Daisy and Charlie apart for a bit!” “What can we do to get them to be a bit more civilised with each other?”
David groaned. “I have no idea. What did you say we needed for tonight’s tea? And when are they both due to go away to camp? And why did we say we’d take them on holiday with us?” “Dinner will be ready soon. What’s that you’re painting?”
“It’s a bit of an experiment. But there’s an art competition on at the art gallery next June – I thought I’d like to enter. First prize for my age group is £250 – I wouldn’t mind winning that!”
“Mmm. Sounds like a good idea. Listen – tomorrow, can you go with Dad and meet Matthew? And take him round the town a bit? Grandmère says you can go to their house for coffee and cakes, so that will give you somewhere to head for.”
“Okay. I don’t mind. After lunch though? I want to paint again in the morning.” Watering the garden for his new stepmother, Matthew thought about the day ahead of him. Someone had said to him that the Saxtead girl was “like, totally hot”, which sounded promising – seeing round this place with a “like, totally hot” girl might be better than doing it on his own. “You will put something else on, won’t you, before you go out with Dad?”
“What does it matter what I wear?” Charlie was beginning to regret her offer: the painting was taking shape under her brush.
“Yeah, like you could look good anyway. Mum, can I have money for lunch out, please?”
“And what do you look like? I see you’ve been doubling the electricity bill again with your hair straighteners. And what’s with the purple hat, cowgirl?”
“Everyone who’s anyone knows plum is the new pink. You’re just jealous because you couldn’t look pretty…” “That’s enough!” It was Jonquil’s I-mean-it tone of voice, and both girls shut up, though they went on glaring at each other. “And where did those clothes come from? I don’t remember buying them for you.”
“I bought them for myself – with the holiday money Grandma H gave me.” “Okay, I’ll get changed if I really must," Charlie said to her still slightly cross mother. "Don’t know how she bought all those clothes from ten quid of holiday money though.”
“Is that what Grandma H gave you?” Jonquil inquired mildly enough, her irritation subsiding.
Charlie nodded. “And before you ask, yes I sent her a thank you note.”
“Good girl,” Jonquil said teasingly. “And Charlie – thanks for going with your dad today.” This was not Matthew’s idea of a “like, totally hot” girl at all. And Charlie for her part couldn’t get over the size of the place. He must be stinking rich! Surely he’d be going to some fancy private school somewhere? They got off to a sticky start. And then when Matthew sloped off to his room, leaving his stepmother talking to Charlie, she sent Charlie up with a pile of clean washing to find him. He did sort of wish he’d tidied up a bit…but Charlie didn’t seem to notice the mess. She’d spotted the posters – and the CDs. “Hey, do you like greenstone? I love their stuff. Which album do you like best?”
He hadn’t meant to be rude, but there had been so much upheaval lately that he was permanently defensive. “I thought girls your age only liked boy bands.”
Fortunately she laughed, instead of taking offence. “That’s my sister. I’ve got better taste.”
A sister! Charlie had a sister! Perhaps she was the looker. How could he find out? Matthew thought fast.
“I think someone might have pointed her out to me. What does she look like?”
“Well, it varies from day to day. Today she was channelling her inner cowgirl – purple Stetson and all. Nothing like me is probably the answer to your question.” “There you are – that’s where we’ll both be in ten days’ time. It’s all still pretty shiny new.”
“The uniform’s okay too – but I thought I saw some kids in a really weird uniform when I visited back in June.”
“Ah, that’s the other school. I’ll get Grandpère to tell you about it. But I’ll take you to Thornham Park first.” “What on earth is that?” On the way to the park, Charlie had stopped to show Matthew the art gallery.
“It’s Art, Matthew,” she said solemnly, and then giggled as he snorted in disbelief. “It’s Andreo Montano’s latest site-specific installation, and it’s called Time’s Ghosts.”
“Whaddya mean, site-specific installation?”
“Well, obviously, those retro petrol pumps wouldn’t look right outside a Victorian building, but here, a building put up at the dawn of The Age Of The Motor Car, they speak of…”
“I’ve heard enough!” But there was a laugh in his voice, and for the first time in ages he was enjoying himself. “Now this is total Victoriana!” Matthew eyed up the bandstand, the glass houses, the massed flower beds.
“Yep. We have free concerts in the bandstand every Sunday afternoon – really free, I mean. Anyone can book an hour and do a performance. Do you play anything?” After all, he was a greenstone fan – that argued he was musical.
“Drums,” Matthew admitted. “What about you?”
“Piano. At school and at Grandmère’s. We haven’t got room for one at home.”
"So, are your grandparents French?"
“No. But Grandmère’s mother was, and Grandmère is much more French than English. Grandpère’s English all the way through. But you know how it is – you need different names for the two sets of grandparents.”
Charlie hadn’t been what Matthew was expecting – and neither was her grandfather! The car looked like a heap of junk to Matthew’s inexperienced eyes, but Jonathan assured him it would – one day! – run again.
“I’m much further on with it than people realise!” To his surprise, Matthew found himself talking to Charlie’s grandfather in a way he hadn’t talked to anyone for a while. It was partly the age gap – and partly Jonathan’s gentle but shrewd questions.
“Changes are never easy.” Jonathan’s eyes were kind. “The challenge is always not to let the changes change us for the worse.” Charlie showed him the tree-house Grandpère had built for her and Daisy.
“Though I don’t think she ever went into it. But I loved it!” She grinned reminiscently. “The first time I went in it, I emptied a bucket of water over her head.” “Lift the patisseries over, Charlie. And also, find yourself a chair.” Charlie’s grandmother did sound French.
“Grandmère! Patisseries!”
“For your coming, I made them.”
“I have a joke for you, Charlie,” her grandfather announced. Matthew wondered why his wife groaned.
“What do chemists eat for breakfast?”
“I don’t know, Grandpère. What do chemists eat for breakfast?”
“Boyled eggs.”
Charlie shook her head, but Matthew laughed, and began to tell terrible jokes on his own account. “Frappez. Frappez.”
“Qui est là?” Charlie asked, laughing at him.
“Losta.”
“Losta qui?” her grandmother asked, also smiling.
“Yes – that’s why I’m knocking.” Everyone groaned! “Grandpère said I had to show you this end of Rowansford as well,” Charlie said to Matthew a couple of days later. “It’s all his old stamping grounds. His family have lived here for ages – in that house, too.”
“It’s…impressive,” said Matthew, looking at the library. But he was enjoying his trips round Rowansford with Charlie – and enjoying getting to know her grandparents as well.
“Yeah. His great-great grandfather built and endowed it, and it hasn’t changed much since then. Come and look inside.” “It’s not much like the library up at your end of town.” He didn’t say “our end of town,” Charlie noticed.
“I know. Though they have tried to modernise it a bit.” Charlie waved one arm in the direction of the obviously new children’s corner, where a thin and shabby-looking young woman was sitting on the floor with a small child.
“It used to be books from floor to ceiling everywhere. And the stock’s still – unique, shall we say? You won’t find any chick-lit here, though they do have an enormous collection of detective stories. And the science section is amazing!”
“This was Grandpère’s school. And Grandma and Grandpa H – and loads of other people in the town as well! Dad’s too, but Grandma H sent mum to a private school.”
“What was wrong with this one? “
“Nothing. In fact, it was way better than the one she went to. This is a really good school. But small – it’s way over-subscribed, you have to pass an entrance exam to get in, you have to live in Rownasford…it’s privately endowed, but there’s no fees.”
Matthew knew about the entrance exam – he’d be trying for the sixth form there in a few years’ time. “Are all the houses round here as run-down as this?” So far, Matthew had only seen the prosperous side of Rowansford.
“Pretty much. I guess if all the new ones where we live hadn’t been built, people might have come and lived here. But not everyone wants a long-term DIY project, mum says. I think it’s a bit sad though. And these houses are bigger than ours!” They went right down to the edge of the Breckfleet, and Charlie began skimming stones across it. She was very good at it! After a moment or two, Matthew joined in as well. Charlie was very relaxing and undemanding to be with – and she even laughed at his jokes. Which reminded him…
“Knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?” she asked, laughter and resignation mixing in her voice.
“Amos.”
“Amos who?”
“A mosquito!” “Don’t tell me Grandpère’s got you on with the car now!”
“Don’t tell your mother, but I can see the appeal. Hello, Matthew. Did you have a nice walk?”
“Apart from the dreadful jokes…” Charlie said, answering for him.
“Knock, knock,” he said back to her.
“Who’s there?”
“Anna.”
“Anna who?”
“Anna nother mosquito!”
Charlie groaned. Loudly. So did David. “You tell the worst jokes ever. You’ll like Mr Richards, the chemistry teacher. The school’s not bad, you know.” Disconcertingly, she’d read his thoughts from his face. “And you can meet my other friends – Hanako for one. She’ll be back soon.”
Matthew was beginning to think that maybe school would be okay. Though he still hadn’t met Daisy – and he was becoming more and more curious about her. But Charlie, if she could manage it, wasn’t going to let Matthew meet Daisy. She’d had more than enough of being the what-a-pity-you’re-not-pretty sister, enough of being in Daisy’s shadow. Her dad and Matthew were swapping more dreadful jokes. She liked this friendship, and she didn’t want to lose it.