Izzy's River (3 page)

“But it’s as if she thinks we’ll all forget the horrible
stuff she’s said before! She was even being nice to
me
!”

Emily stared at her thoughtfully. “And if she kept on doing it, I bet you’d go along with it. She’s one of those people. She’s always been like it, ever since reception, hasn’t she?”

Izzy nodded. “Mmm. I suppose so. I wouldn’t be friends with her, though.” She shivered. “I really hope I wouldn’t, anyway.”

“Does anyone actually need the loo?” Maya asked. “We’re going to get in massive trouble if we don’t hurry up. And we want to ask Mr Finlay about Izzy sitting with us, remember.”

They barged for the door, and speed-walked along to the classroom, arriving at the door just before Mr Finlay did.

Emily pushed Izzy to the front, and they all smiled at him hopefully, except for Izzy, who went bright scarlet and stared at the floor until Poppy poked her in the back. “Izzy wants to ask something.”

Izzy swallowed. “Please could I move to sit with Poppy and Maya and Emily?” she gabbled.

“I didn’t catch a word of that, but if you were asking if you could move tables, yes. I was going to ask you if you wanted to. Providing you don’t mess
around.” Mr Finlay glared at them, mock-sternly.

“We won’t!” Poppy promised, grabbing Izzy and steering her into the classroom, and the others nodded, all trying to look saintly.

“As if we mess around,” Emily hissed indignantly, back at their table. “Well. Hardly ever, anyway.”

Izzy and Poppy had both brought lunches from home, so they were sitting together in the dining hall, waiting for Emily and Maya to come back from the lunch queue.

“I can’t believe you thought we didn’t want you sitting with us,” Poppy told Izzy.

Izzy shrugged uncomfortably. It was hard to explain without sounding even more stupid. She just wasn’t used to people actually liking her any more. “I suppose I’m just used to being mostly on my own,” she said, going red again. She could feel her cheeks burning. That was such a feeble thing to say. She stared at her sandwiches (Dad had gone mad, there looked like half a cucumber in there).

“Well, you shouldn’t be,” Poppy said firmly. “Being on your own’s fine sometimes, but it can be bad for your inner harmony.”

“My what?” Izzy stopped trying to decucumberise
her sandwich and looked up at Poppy.

Poppy sighed. “You really don’t know anything about alternative therapies, do you?”

Izzy shook her head. “I did go to a yoga class once,” she offered, and Poppy looked hopeful for a second. “But I hated it,” she added. “They talked a bit about harmony and stuff, but it was mostly just sitting around with your legs in the air. It felt stupid.”

Poppy shook her head. “OK. Inner harmony just means not being miserable anyway. All I mean is, being on your own all the time makes you fed up.”

Izzy shrugged. “I know. But trying not to be on your own and then getting told to go away because you’re boring makes you feel even worse.”

“Who said that?” Poppy asked indignantly.

“Most of the girls in our class,” Izzy sighed. “I’m sort of marked, I think. As the boring one.”

“But you aren’t!” Poppy argued. “You’re funny. And you have brilliant ideas. We couldn’t have organised all the stuff for the fashion show without you.”

“Mmm, I’m
organised
. Being organised is so exciting.” Izzy grinned at her shyly.

“Yeah, OK, I see what you mean. But you are funny. See? What you just said was funny.”

“Maybe.” Izzy nodded.

“Is your dad picking you up today?” Poppy asked suddenly.

Izzy nodded. “Yes. He always does.” Izzy’s dad was a gardener, and he fitted his work in around school hours. It usually worked, although she did have to go to work with him in the holidays now that her mum wasn’t there. She usually sat in his truck with a book unless there was something she could help with. “Almost always, anyway. I go to after-school club if he’s got a big job on.”

“Do you think he’d let you come over to mine?” Poppy said hopefully. “My mum wouldn’t mind. She only works mornings on Fridays, so she’d be picking me up.”

Izzy swallowed, suddenly nervous. She’d met Poppy’s mum when she’d taken all the girls to Tara’s clothes shop to find out about Fairtrade clothes. She was really nice – friendly and funny.

But she hadn’t been over to a friend’s house all this year. Not for most of last year either actually. How sad was that.

“Would your dad let you?” Poppy asked anxiously. “Would he say it was too short notice?”

“I don’t think so…” Izzy said slowly. She knew her
dad wouldn’t mind at all. He was more likely to give Poppy’s mum a hug, to be honest. She knew how much it upset him that she was lonely. That was why he kept signing her up for stuff like yoga, and ballet (even more of a disaster, Izzy was not made for ballet). She smiled at Poppy. “He really likes you – he said you were good at washing up. He likes people who get on with stuff and don’t whinge about working.”

Poppy sighed. “I’m fabulous at washing up. My mum thinks dishwashers use too much energy, she’s trying to make us more eco-minded and save money at the same time. She says she’s got three dishwashers – me, Jake and Alex – and she doesn’t see why she should buy another one.” She looked at Izzy hopefully. “So would you like to come over? Will you ask him?”

Izzy nodded. She still didn’t quite believe what was happening. Poppy had that look now – that slightly worried look that meant she wasn’t sure if someone might laugh at her. “I’d really like to,” Izzy murmured. “I’ll definitely ask him.”

“Good.” Poppy beamed at her, and the others came back with their lunches – baked potatoes and salad.

“Whatever the veggie option was, it looked like
glue,” Maya explained.

“Hey, Maya!” Ali walked past their table with Elspeth and Lucy trailing behind her, and Maya half-smiled. Luckily, the lunch tables only had room for six at the most, otherwise Ali looked like she would have tried to sit with them.

“This is going to drive me mad,” Maya wailed, as soon as they were out of earshot on the other side of the dining hall.

“She doesn’t take a hint, does she?” Emily muttered. “They’re still all staring at you, by the way.”

“Aaaargh!” Maya moaned. “Why can’t I just have a normal mum like everybody else?”

Izzy tried not to drop her sandwich. Maya had no idea she was being tactless – she’d only joined the school that year, and she didn’t know that Izzy’s mum and dad were divorced, and Izzy hardly saw her any more.

“Ow!” Maya stared at Poppy in surprise. “What was that for?”

Poppy had kicked her under the table, Izzy realised.

Poppy sighed. “Maya! I was trying to tell you, tactfully, that not everyone’s mum is normal. Actually mine’s a monster half the time,” she added jokily, but she was looking at Izzy sideways, obviously worried.

“It’s OK. My mum lives in Australia. She got married again, and I’ve got a baby brother,” Izzy explained to Maya. “You weren’t supposed to know all that, don’t worry.”

“Oh.” Maya looked guilty. “I wouldn’t have said it if I had known, Izzy.”

“It’s really OK. I’m sort of used to not seeing her,” Izzy lied. “What are we going to do about Ali?” she said quickly. Even though she was upset, she still enjoyed saying “we” like that, feeling part of a special group again. It was great.

“We could just try telling her to get lost,” Emily suggested. “It would be simple.”

“She’d kill us,” Poppy pointed out.

“I wouldn’t.” Izzy shivered. “You don’t know how mean she can be. Really, deliberately on-purpose cruel. And she’s clever about it,” she added. “It isn’t just pushing you over in the playground, or anything like that.” Her eyes were burning with tears, just thinking about it. “She told Mrs Gratton I had nits last year. I got sent home. My dad was furious, he even came in and saw Mrs Angel and said they were bullying me, but Ali said she’d just made a mistake. She apologised really nicely. And then the next day she told the whole class.”

Emily made a face. “I remember now. But you did have…” She trailed off as Izzy looked up at her furiously. “OK, I’m guessing you didn’t.”

“It was ants!” Izzy hissed. “She’d brought them into school, and she threw them at me, and then she told everyone. She said it was because I told on her.”

“She put ants in your hair?” Maya asked, horrified.

“Yeah, like I said, she’s clever,” Izzy said miserably. “Don’t get on her bad side. If you can help it.”

“Are you planning your next mission, girls?”

They all jumped, and Maya nearly tipped her lunch over.

“Sorry!” Mr Finlay moved Emily’s cup, so she didn’t spill it. “I didn’t mean to creep up on you. You were all looking so serious, I wondered if you’d come up with another project.”

“Um, not yet…” Emily said slowly. “Do you think we should, Mr Finlay?”

“Definitely! I still haven’t got over the last one, mind you.” He grinned. “But seriously, girls, you worked together so well. Why not?”

They nodded thoughtfully.

“Although it probably wouldn’t be popular with Mrs Angel if you picked another school policy to fight against,” Mr Finlay pointed out hurriedly. “I think
the Fairtrade jumper was enough for the minute.”

“So we shouldn’t campaign for longer summer holidays then?” Poppy sighed.

“Better not. But have a think, girls. I’ll be interested to see what you come up with.”

He really meant it, Izzy thought, as he walked away. She just wished she could think of something that they could do…

THREE

“Dad, you remember Poppy from the fashion show?” Izzy looked at him pleadingly.
Please don’t have anything planned!
she said to herself hopefully. Occasionally they went to the cinema on Fridays, or drove to visit her grandma.

“Yes, I do!” Her dad beamed at Poppy. “The champion mug-washer-upper.”

“That’s me.” Poppy smiled back. “Please, can Izzy come back to my house tonight? And stay for tea?”

Izzy watched her dad’s eyes widen, and a delighted smile spread across his face. “Of course…” he started to say, and then he trailed off, and looked at her worriedly. Oh no – he had arranged to go and see Gran, after all.

But that wasn’t it. “Izzy, you do want to go?” He sounded anxious, and Izzy stared back at him in
surprise. Of course she wanted to go! Why wouldn’t she?

Oh! Of course – he was thinking of Ali, and the way she’d lied. He wasn’t sure if Poppy wasn’t pressuring her to come over. Izzy hugged him. “It’s OK, Dad, really. Poppy isn’t like that at all.”

Poppy stood there looking confused, and Izzy’s dad glanced at her apologetically. “I’m sorry, Poppy. Izzy had some trouble with one of the other girls in your class – I was just checking…”

Poppy nodded. “I’ve been on Ali’s bad side too,” she assured him.

Izzy’s dad sighed. “I don’t understand girls sometimes,” he muttered. “Is she just horrible to everybody?”

Poppy and Izzy looked at each other, and nodded. “Pretty much,” Izzy agreed.

Poppy’s mum walked over, smiling hopefully. “Is it OK for Izzy to come round? Poppy really enjoyed getting to know her better when we did our trip to that lovely clothes shop.”

“It’s very nice of you to have her. I’ll give you my phone number. Shall I take your stuff home with me now, Izzy? Gives us less chance to forget it later.” He sorted out the numbers with Poppy’s mum, and
gave Izzy a kiss, then headed off to his truck with her school bag, waving.

“Don’t forget, Poppy, you promised to take Billy for a walk this afternoon,” Poppy’s mum reminded her as they walked down the road to the car.

Poppy made a face. “I haven’t taken him on a really long walk in ages. Do you mind coming out for a walk, Izzy? I’d forgotten.”

Izzy shook her head, smiling shyly. “Is Billy a dog? I’d love to go for a walk.”

“He’s an English Bull Terrier. He’s gorgeous, and ever so friendly, not scary at all. But he’s really dim. Totally stupid. Alex calls him the dumb blond, because he’s a sort of reddish-gold colour.”

Izzy laughed. “Bull Terriers are supposed to be so fierce, though, aren’t they?”

Poppy shrugged. “Whoever said that didn’t tell Billy. He’s a sweetheart. But they have a bad reputation. We got Billy from a shelter, his last owners didn’t want him because he’d got too big.”

Izzy frowned. “But what did they think was going to happen? Puppies grow up.”

“Exactly!” Poppy nodded approvingly.

“What Poppy isn’t telling you is that Billy is pretty enormous, even for a Bull Terrier,” Poppy’s mum put
in. “He’s got a chest like a barrel. And he’s incredibly strong.”

Poppy started to laugh. “Not long after we got him, I answered the door, and it was a man trying to get Mum to buy double glazing. I kept saying we didn’t want any, and that Mum and Dad were both busy, and he just wouldn’t go away. Billy had come to the door as well, and he happened to see next door’s cat walk along our front wall, just as the double glazing man was getting really annoying. He kept calling me Miss in a really nasty sort of voice.” She chuckled to herself.

“What did you do?” Izzy asked, intrigued.

“It was very naughty,” Poppy’s mum said, but she didn’t sound as though she minded all that much.

“I let go of Billy’s collar.” Poppy grinned. “And he’d seen Pepper from next door, so he went off like a rocket. He’s not bright, like we said, and he’s got a sort of one-track mind. If he wants something, he just goes and gets it, unless you tell him not to. So he went to bark his head off at Pepper – straight through the double glazing man. He only knocked the man into the hedge,” she told Izzy reassuringly. “He wasn’t hurt.”

“But he could have been, and he was very, very
cross,” her mum reminded her. “Still, he should have known to take no for an answer.” She smiled at the girls in the rear-view mirror. “Strangely enough, no one’s tried to come and sell us anything at the door since. I think we’re on a black-list.”

Poppy sniggered.

“Is it OK for us to take Billy for a walk?” Izzy asked, a little anxiously. “When he’s so big, I mean?”

“It’s all right. He’s pretty good. We don’t usually let him off the lead – he might not come back if he saw something more interesting, and he’s got no road-sense at all, either. But if he’s on the lead, he walks fine. He’s got one of those extending leads,” Poppy explained. “We just have to hold on tight if there’s a cat.”

“Or a squirrel,” her mum added.

“Oh yeah. Or a dustbin lorry, he really doesn’t like those.”

“Why not?” Izzy asked, her eyes widening. This was a whole new world – she’d never had a dog, her mum didn’t like them, and Dad said it wouldn’t be fair now with them both out all day. Izzy had tried arguing that a dog could go to work with him, but he wasn’t convinced.

Poppy shook her head. “I’m not sure. The smell?
Or maybe he doesn’t like the way the bins go up and down at the back. He barks his head off, and tries to chase them. It’s really embarrassing. We had to give our dustmen some chocolates at Christmas after he slipped out of the gate one morning and chased them all down the road.” She shuddered, remembering. “He wasn’t quite as big then, luckily. And one of the dustmen had a Bull Terrier too, he was really nice about it. His one goes ballistic at fire engines, he said.”

Izzy decided that she wasn’t going to offer to hold Billy’s lead, as there was bound to be a dustbin lorry rolling past just at the wrong moment, and she wasn’t sure she could face grovelling to a team of angry dustmen.

She could hear excited barking as they walked up the path to Poppy’s house, and somebody shouting from indoors. It sounded like, “Shut up, you dim mutt!”

Billy didn’t, but it was a happy sort of barking, and when Poppy’s mum opened the door, and hurried Poppy and Izzy in, he whisked around them, still barking, and wagging his tail frantically. It thumped against Izzy’s legs, and she could see what Poppy meant about Billy being big – even his tail was strong!
He was a very strange-looking dog, Izzy thought, but in a nice way. He was mostly a golden-red colour, with white paws, white tummy, and a white blaze down the middle of his triangular nose. He stared up at Izzy with his head on one side, looking at her hopefully from small black eyes, as if she might have brought him something to eat.

“I think you need him over there,” Izzy whispered, carefully patting Billy’s head.

One of Poppy’s brothers was disappearing up the stairs with a plate piled high with toast. “Hi, Mum.” He waved at them vaguely.

“Just a light snack?” his mum called after him, sighing.

He didn’t answer her, and Izzy realised he had earphones in.

“Right, well, there’s obviously no point cooking dinner just yet. Your dad’s not home anyway, Poppy, and Jake’s at football till later. Why don’t you two have a snack – biscuits, or you can have toast if that pig upstairs has left any bread. Then we can all have dinner when you get back from your walk.”

At the word walk, Billy suddenly erupted into the kitchen and started barking again. He’d been sniffing Poppy’s schoolbag in the hallway in case she’d
brought anything slightly edible home.

“Mum! You have to spell that word out!” Poppy moaned. “Now he won’t stop barking till we take him.”

“Sorry!” Her mum quickly stuffed a handful of biscuits and a couple of apples into a plastic bag, and handed it to Izzy. “Take my phone with you, girls, just in case. Where are you going to go?” she half-shouted over the barking, which was getting louder as Poppy fetched Billy’s lead off a hook in the understairs cupboard and he practically exploded with excitement.

“Umm, through the park and along the path by the river? That should wear him out a bit,” Poppy suggested.

“OK. Back by half-five then?”

Poppy nodded, and the girls hurried out with Billy bouncing around them like an enormous puppy. Thankfully, he stopped barking once they got out of the front door, and he understood that they really were going for a walk – they hadn’t just been teasing him with the lead. He set off at a fast pace, pulling hard on his collar, and making strangled noises.

“Is he OK?” Izzy asked worriedly. It sounded as though his collar was hurting him.

“He’s fine, he’s just a twit. Billy, heel!” Poppy said firmly, pulling him back.

Billy looked up at her mournfully. His long sloping nose made him quite good at mournful, Izzy thought. And despite Poppy saying he wasn’t very clever, he definitely knew how to milk it.

“I’m not cross, you silly dog.” Poppy patted him. “But you’ll break your neck pulling like that.”

“Couldn’t you use some alternative therapies to calm him down a bit?” Izzy asked mischievously. She was expecting Poppy to tell her not to be so stupid, but instead her friend sighed.

“I did try. I borrowed Mum’s Rescue Remedy, but it just made him sneeze. I think he ought to have a course of massage, actually, but Dad said there was no way he was paying for it.”

Izzy snorted with laughter. She could just imagine Billy lying on a table with his legs in the air, being massaged. “You can’t really do massage on dogs!” she said disbelievingly.

“Of course you can!” Poppy looked at her in surprise. “It’s really good. Great for stress and relaxation. That’s why Billy could do with it – he’s just too mad all the time.”

Izzy nodded. “I suppose it would calm him down,
if he’d keep still.” She used to give her mum foot-rubs sometimes, she remembered, with a little jolt. Her mum had said it was blissful, and it made her want to fall asleep.

“There’s a vet in Malton that does all sorts of alternative therapy for dogs. Massage. Acupuncture.”

“Acupuncture? Like, with needles? They do that to dogs too?” Izzy sounded horrified.

“It’s supposed to be really good for things like arthritis. Achy bones. Billy doesn’t need that, though.” Poppy eyed him. “Which is good, because to be honest, I can’t see him letting anybody stick needles in him and keep them there. He howls if we even walk past the door of the vet’s, and he hasn’t had to go and have any vaccinations for ages.”

“Really? He looks so – you know, big and brave.”

“Nope. He’s a wuss. But we love him anyway,” Poppy told her happily as they headed into the park. “Just tell me if you see any other dogs coming up. I’m going to let his lead pull out.”

“OK. Would he chase them?” Izzy looked round anxiously, but she couldn’t see any other dogs at all.

“Probably not, but you never know. And because he’s so big, if he gets in a scrap with another dog, their owner always seems to blame Billy, which is really
unfair. It’s the little yappy dogs you need to watch, like Yorkshire Terriers, and Dachshunds – they can be really mean. And then their owner arrives, and yells at Billy for upsetting poor little Fluffball.”

“I hadn’t realised it was so exciting, having a dog,” Izzy murmured, keeping a sharp eye out for Yorkshire Terriers.

Poppy grinned. “Billy’s sort of a dog and a half. He always gets into everything. But he’s great at home, too – he loves watching TV, he’ll curl up with you for ages.”

Izzy nodded. That sounded lovely – a big, cuddly dog to snuggle with when Dad was busy doing work stuff in the evenings.

“Look, if we go down that path there,” Poppy pointed out through a gate, “we come to the river path. Have you been down there before?”

Izzy shook her head. “No. I’ve never been to this park, either, our house is the other side of town.”

“It’s a bit messy, but I like looking at the water, and Billy loves it. I think he smells water rats, or something like that. He goes sniffing along like a bloodhound.”

Billy had caught the scent of the river path already, and he speeded up, his ears pricking with excitement.

“Wow…” Izzy looked around in surprise. The
river ran through the centre of town too, but it was all pretty there, with benches, and grassy banks. Lots of people went there for picnics.

“I know, it’s such a mess.” Poppy sighed. “What is it about shopping trolleys? I can see at least three of them.”

The river bank was covered in litter, and the river itself looked like some weird piece of modern art, with stuff sticking out all over the place. As well as the shopping trolleys, there was a bike, and a bit of a boat, and Izzy was pretty sure she could see a mattress.

“Why do people dump all this stuff here?” she asked. “It would be really pretty, without all the rubbish.”

There were benches, and a picnic table set further back on the grass, but she couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to come and eat their lunch here. It was grim.

Poppy shrugged. “I guess once one person does it, everyone else thinks it’s OK.”

Billy was sniffing happily on the end of his long lead, poking his big nose in and out of the clumps of grass, and snapping at bees and butterflies.