“That’s all right.”
I didn’t care about Lori; Harriet was the one I cared about. In fact I thought I might be a bit shy if Lori were there, so I was quite glad she wasn’t going to be.
“She said maybe we could meet another time,” said Annie. “She sounds really nice! Oh, and it’s got to be kept a secret. She said her mum doesn’t usually meet her fans ’cos if she met all the people that read her books she’d never have time for writing.”
“Yes.” I nodded. I’d read that somewhere, in one of the interviews that Harriet had given. She had said that she was a very private person. She loved to hear from her readers, and she always, always wrote back; but she didn’t very often make public appearances. I could understand that! That is probably how I would be, if I were a famous writer.
“So we’ve not got to tell anybody,” said Annie. “In case it gets back to people and they all want to come.”
“Absolutely!” I said. This was my treat. I could think of several girls in our class who would be really envious … but I certainly didn’t want them intruding on my birthday present!
“I said what we’d do,” said Annie, “we’d look up the times of buses so I could tell Lori which one we were getting so Harriet doesn’t have to be kept waiting.”
I was ever so impressed! Annie isn’t normally what I would call an efficient sort of person. Mrs Glover at school once told her she was “slapdash”. But because this was my birthday present, and she did so much want me to enjoy it, she was making this huge great effort. She even knew how to look up bus timetables on the Internet!
“See, look? There’s one that gets to Brafferton Bridge at ten past two. I’ll tell her that one. Then you talk as much as you like, all about books, you could even do an interview, then we can have tea and come back home and nobody will ever know! Now you’re looking worried again. What’s the matter now?”
“How are we going to recognise her?” I said.
“Who, Harriet?”
“There aren’t any photos!”
I’d searched and searched, but being such a private person she obviously didn’t like having her photograph taken. (I agree! I don’t, either.) All these other old ugly authors had their pictures all over the place – well, they weren’t all old and ugly, but they weren’t very beautiful, either, which I suppose oughtn’t to matter as it is their books you are interested in, and not their faces, and even if Harriet turned out to be old and ugly I would still be her number one fan! But the only photographs I had been able to find were taken when she was young. I knew it was when she was young as she was holding Lori, and Lori was just a baby. Harriet had looked really pretty, then, with a nice little round squashy face and dark hair, with a fringe. I did hope she still looked like that! But I knew it was a long time ago, almost fifteen years. People could change a whole lot in fifteen years. I mean, anyone who had last seen me when I was, say, two, certainly wouldn’t recognise me as I am now. So I thought probably she was bound to look a little bit different.
“We don’t want to get in a car with the wrong person!” I said.
Annie rolled her eyes. “You are such a worrygut! Maybe she could hold a copy of one of her books? Or d’you think there might be hundreds of people waiting at Brafferton Bridge holding copies of books?”
I giggled at that.
“I’ll ask Lori,” said Annie. “Just leave it to me. And stop FUSSING!”
RACHEL’S DIARY (THURSDAY)
My sister is a brat. An obnoxious, odious, beastly little BRAT. She was playing music really loud this morning. So loud the floors were practically shaking. I told her to turn it down, but the minute I left the house she went and turned it back up again. I could hear it thumping and banging all the way down the road. Next Door’s going to create, I just know they are. Then Mum’ll say, “Rachel, how could you let her annoy the neighbours like that? You KNOW what Mrs Hawthorn’s like about noise!”
And it will stand there looking all simpering and saintly, and pulling faces at me behind Mum’s back. It knows I can’t say anything. If I complain about it not doing what it’s told, it’ll go and tell Mum about me going off to meet Ty instead of staying here and playing nursemaid. It’s blackmail!
Well, and what do I care? Seeing Ty is the only thing I care about.
He’s asked me to go to a party with him on Saturday!!! I bet he never would have if it weren’t for me going in every day and sitting there right under his nose. He probably wouldn’t ever have noticed me! You have to work at these things, they don’t happen by themselves. Well, sometimes they do, if you’re lucky, but mostly I think you have to make a bit of an effort, specially if it’s someone like Ty that could have the pick of the bunch. He’s so gorgeous! He used to go out with Marsha Williams, but he doesn’t any more so it’s not like I’m stealing him. He was up for grabs! I wouldn’t have made a play for him if he’d still been going with Marsha. At least, I don’t think I would. But then again, I might have! All’s fair in love and war, and Marsha is a total dimbo anyway. She may have the boobs but she certainly hasn’t got the brains. She doesn’t deserve a boy like Ty.
The brat and its friend are downstairs now, hatching plots. I know they’re hatching plots because whenever I come into the room they immediately stop talking and look guilty. MEGAN looks guilty. Annie looks furtive. When I ask what’s going on, Megan turns bright pink and Annie says, “Nothing. Why?” I say, “Because your eyes have suddenly bunched up and gone all shifty.” So then she crosses her eyes and sticks out her tongue, and I tell her she ought to have a bit more respect for those in authority – i.e. me – to which she retorts that I am not in the police force YET. I snap, “Service!” and flounce from the room; whereupon they both start giggling.
They just don’t seem to teach kids any manners these days. I’m sure when I was that age I wouldn’t have cheeked my older sister like Annie cheeks me. If I’d had an older sister. If I had, I’d have paid attention and done what she told me. I would have taken the opportunity to LEARN. This one just doesn’t care. Well, and neither do I! Let them get on with it.
Thursday came – the day of my birthday treat! I was so excited, but a bit nervous, as well. I had been Harriet’s number-one fan for so long! Ever since I was eight years old, and read Candyfloss. I just loved that book! I read it so many times that in the end it fell to pieces and Mum had to buy me another one. Now I was actually going to meet the person
