one that’s sitting back listening? And then you think, who is the real me? Who is the real anybody? How are you supposed to know?”
I thought that some people seemed to know OK. I couldn’t imagine any of my family stopping to ask themselves who they were.
“Sometimes,” I said, “I can’t make up my mind whether I’m just Peachy or whether there’s something more.”
Millie skipped out of the way as two huge Year 10s went lumbering past.
“Why just Peachy?” she said.
I’ve always been Just Peachy. Almost ever since I can remember.
“It’s what my family call me,” I said. “Well, it’s not what they actually call me. It’s not like a nickname or anything. It’s more what they say, like, ‘Oh, it’s just Peachy.’ Like there was this one time, when I was little, we’d gone to visit my gran…” Big Gran, it was. “I was clambering round the room on the furniture and I went and fell off and clonked my head and started howling, and Gran came rushing in wanting to know what had happened, and Mum said, ‘It’s all right, you don’t have to worry, it’s just Peachy.’”
“What did she say that for?” said Millie. “It seems a bit mean.”
“I suppose – ” I wanted to be fair to Mum, even though it was Gran who had picked me up and cuddled me – “I suppose cos I was the sort of child that was always doing that sort of thing.”
“Even so,” said Millie. And then she screwed up her face and said, “Families!”
I wondered what hers was like, with all those annoying little sisters. The twins were a bit annoying, always showing off and doing their special twin thing, like finishing each other’s sentences or collapsing into secretive peals of laughter. They would giggle away for minutes on end, without anyone ever knowing why.
“Know what?” said Millie. “I was having this huge big argument with my dad the other day and he was getting really mad. I could see him getting all bright red. And in the end he said, ‘You have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. You are a mere child.’”
“Like that means you’re not entitled to have opinions?” I said.
“I guess not,” said Millie. “Not according to my dad.”
“Honestly,” I said. “Families!”
The second bell was ringing as we reached the science lab. We had been dawdling rather; all the others had raced ahead. Guiltily we made our way down to the front, to the last two empty places. Miss Jackman stood watching us, starched and crackly in her white coat.
“Just get a move on, you two! You should have been here five minutes ago.”
You two. I liked that! I think Millie did too, cos she gave another of her impish grins as we slid on to our stools. Seconds later, she pushed a scribbled note along the bench:
“Hi, Just Peachy! This is your friend Merely Millie. LOL!”
I think that was the moment when I began to feel that maybe Sacred Heart would not be so bad. When Gran asked me if I had made any friends yet, I was able to tell her very proudly that I had.
“Excellent,” said Gran. “I’m sure that must be a great relief to your mum. I know she was a bit worried.”
Mum has this belief that I am shy. But I really am not! So long as I can just be me. The reason I’d found it so difficult to make friends at primary school was because of everyone always expecting me to be someone else. All the really cool kids lost interest once they discovered I wasn’t like Charlie. And all the others were too busy trying to get into the smart set to bother with a non-entity who’d been dismissed as boring. That only left a few nerdy ones, which made me think I must be pretty nerdy myself, only how can you tell? I wasn’t nerdy like Ginetta Derby, who used to keep whining at me to get autographs for her. It was all she was interested in: autographs.
“Your dad must know hundreds of stars! He must meet them all the time. Please, Peachy… I really need him to get some for me!”
And then there was Emily Ashton, who trailed round with me at break time and did nothing but moan.
“Everyone is so mean! They are all so mean. I really hate them!”
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