up,” said Angel.
“Shut up yourself!”
“No, you shut up!”
Dad banged on the table. Tom, who had silently come in and helped himself to a slice of pizza, went silently back out. At the door he bumped into Mum, on her way in.
“What’s going on?” said Mum. “What’s with all the noise?”
“They’re at it again,” said Tom.
“For goodness’ sake!” Mum pulled out a chair and sat down next to Dad. “If you have to shout, go and do it somewhere else. Not down our ears!”
Very dignified, cos I wasn’t going to lower myself to Angel’s level, I said, “Pardon me, but I was just trying to talk.”
“Just trying to make excuses! Drivelling on about power surges. Honestly,” said Angel, “I sometimes can’t believe I’m related to it. You didn’t secretly adopt it or something, did you?”
“Not as far as I can recall,” said Mum.
“It wouldn’t worry me,” I said. “Jem’s adopted. She says it makes you special. But I think if I was,” I said, “I’d want to find out who my birth mother was. Wouldn’t you?”
“I suppose I might, at some stage,” agreed Mum.
“Jem says she’s not interested.” Well, that’s what she’d said in her essay. She might feel differently now that her life had been blighted. “She says she wouldn’t want her mum and dad thinking she didn’t love them.”
“In that case,” said Mum, “don’t you go putting ideas in her head.”
“Me?” I said.
“Yes, you.”
“I wouldn’t!”
“Well, make sure you don’t.”
I munched for a bit on a slice of pizza.
“Jem wants to join a model agency,” I said. “She’s decided she wants to model clothes for catalogues and earn pots of money. Would you let one of us do that? If we wanted to? Jem’s mum won’t let her. Jem’s so upset.”
“I wouldn’t mind joining a model agency,” said Angel.
“Oh, no!” Mum was very firm about it. “We’re having none of that, young woman! You’re already quite obsessed enough with your weight as it is.”
“So you mean you wouldn’t let us?” I said. “Not even me? I’m not obsessed!”
“Neither of you,” said Mum.
“But why not? I don’t understand why not!”
“Because apart from anything else, it would distract from your school work.”
“And who would want you, anyway?” said Angel.
I said, “Somebody might.”
Angel tossed her head. She likes doing that as it makes her hair swish. I guess she thinks it will attract boys.
“You have to be joking,” she said. “What would you model? Boxing gloves?”
Dad banged again on the table. “Enough!” he said. “I have had enough. If you can’t manage to be civilised with each other—”
I said, “I’m civilised. She was the one being rude.”
Angel opened her mouth, then caught Dad’s eye and closed it again. Dad doesn’t very often get ratty, but when he does it’s best not to try his patience.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
