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think he knows.”
    My heart did that plummeting thing, like when you’re sitting on a plane and there’s turbulence and you fall into an air pocket, or whatever it is that planes do. When they lurch , and you think your last hour has come.
    â€œ Pleeeeez don’t be mad,” begged Indy.
    I said, “I’m not mad.”
    â€œYou sound like you are.”
    I snapped, “Well, I’m not! I’m just sick of people tittle-tattling. Who was it?”
    â€œI don’t know, but Lance S—”
    â€œThat thug ?”
    â€œHe was making these really stupid remarks, and Josh was there, so he must have heard, but— What?” She broke off. “Yes, OK. I’m coming! Carm, listen, I’m sorry, I’ll have to go. I just w—”
    â€œDon’t you ring off!” I screeched.
    â€œI’ve got to, it’s the bell.”
    â€œDamn the bell! I want to know what that thug said?”
    â€œI’ll tell you tomorrow. You’re gonna be here tomorrow, aren’t you?”
    â€œI don’t know, I don’t know! Tell me now.”
    â€œCarm, I can’t, it’s maths, you know what Mr Dearden’s like. If—”
    â€œTell me right this minute,” I bawled, “or I won’t ever speak to you again!”
    There was a pause.
    â€œI mean it! I’m not joking. You either tell me what he said, or—”
    â€œI’ll tell you tomorrow,” said Indy. She said it in this very dignified tone of voice. No squealing. No caralarms. “I have to go now or I’ll be late for class.”
    â€œWell, don’t bother ringing,” I snarled, “cos I won’t be answering!”
    Whether she heard me or not, I wasn’t sure. The phone had gone dead, leaving me in a kind of trembling fury. Fury with Marigold, fury with the Thug; fury with Indy for not telling me, fury with myself for having set the whole thing off. Answering back to Marigold . It was asking for trouble. And now I’d gone and brought it down on Josh, as well as myself.
    There was only one way to find solace: for the rest of the afternoon I let Urban Legend pound my brain to atoms. Mum always says that I’ll damage my hearing if I listen to music that loud. “You’ll be deaf by the time you’re my age!”
    I tell her that lots of rock stars end up with dodgy hearing. “It’s part of the price you pay.”
    That afternoon I couldn’t have cared less. I just wanted to deaden my brain. It suddenly felt like my whole life was falling apart.
    Round about four o’clock I lugged myself out to the kitchen to forage for food. Breakfast stuff was still on the table, so I ate a bowl of cereal and made some toast, then decided that maybe I should get dressed before Mum arrived back. Just as well I did, cos the doorbell rang. I thought it was probably Mrs Gasbag come to beg a bowl of sugar or a packet of peas. She’s always doing that, it drives me nuts, but Mum says we have to be neighbourly. Anyway, it wasn’t her, it was Josh. For the second time that day my heart plummeted. Thunk , like a sack of cement.
    I said, “Oh – hi.”
    Josh said, “Hi.”
    And then we both went quiet. And then we both spoke at the same time:
    â€œDid you—”
    â€œDo you—”
    â€œAfter you,” said Josh.
    I swallowed. I have never been self-conscious withJosh. Not even right at the beginning, when he picked me instead of Marigold.
    â€œDo you… want-to-come-in?”
    It wasn’t even my voice! It was like some kind of growl. We went through to the sitting room and stood, awkwardly.
    I said, “Mum’s still at work.”
    Josh said, “Ah.”
    Then we both said, “So—”
    â€œYour turn,” I said.
    â€œYeah. OK! I was just, like… wondering how you were. Indy said you had a headache, she was worried about you. So I said I’d call round after