Boy Trouble by Sarah Webb Read Free Book Online

go. I need to talk to him about something.”
    He looks at me, a strange expression I can’t quite read on his face. “About what?”
    “Just things.” I’m lying. I don’t really need to talk to Dad at all. It just came out.
    Then he nods. “Fine,” he says, sounding a little cross. “If it’s that urgent I’ll drop you over on Saturday afternoon. I’m sure Art can drop you home on Sunday. As long as he doesn’t have an important golf match or something.”
    “Thanks,” I say grudgingly. I only agree because Dad lives in Castleknock, which is miles away. It takes two bus rides to get there. I’ll take my iPod so I won’t have to talk to Dave in the car.
    “It’s a date.” He winks at me.
    Eeew
. I just ignore him and walk out of the kitchen. He’s such a nerd.
    I run upstairs to ring Dad on my mobile from my bedroom. If Dave says something to Mum and she gets to Dad first, I won’t be popular. I don’t need any more grief than I’m already getting.
    “How’s my favourite daughter?” Dad says. He sounds very cheerful. I can hear a whirring noise in the background.
    “Your
only
daughter,” I point out. “Where are you?”
    “In the garden. Cutting the grass. You know what Shelly’s like. Complete slave driver.” He gives a rattling laugh which turns into a cough. Dad gave up smoking recently after twenty years and his chest is still a bit funny from it. The cutting the grass thing is a first; Dad never used to cut the grass when he lived here. Mum was always giving out about it.
    I don’t like Dad’s girlfriend, Shelly. In fact I rarely acknowledge her at all if I can help it. And I’ve never uttered her name, not once. It requires quite a lot of effort to remember to say “she” or “her” all the time, but it’s worth it. Mum doesn’t use her name either; she calls her “Little Miss Perky” or “The Secretary”.
    Today I need to keep Dad on side so I laugh too. “Hey, can I stay over on Saturday?” I say, coming straight to the point. I hear a dog yapping and Dad turns off the lawnmower.
    “That’s better,” he says. “I can hear you now. The pup-py hates the mower. What did you say about Saturday?”
    “What puppy?” I say, my voice a little sharper than I intend.
    There’s silence for a moment, then a sharp yelping followed by Dad saying, “Down, Justin, there’s a good boy. Can you take him, Shelly? I’m on the phone to Amy. Sorry about that, Amy love. We only got him yesterday and he’s a bit unsettled.”
    I feel like someone’s just poured concrete into my stomach and is stirring it around with a great big stick. He promised, I think, my eyes starting to smart.
    He continues, “I know you wanted to be with us when we went to the dog’s home, but Shelly thought—”
    “Listen, I have to go. See you Saturday. Dave will drop me over in the afternoon. After lunch. Is that OK?”
    “Great. You’re not upset are you? I’m sorry if you’re disappointed about the puppy, only—”
    “Bye, Dad.” I click off my mobile and drop back against my bed. Tears spill from my eyes and wet the pillow beneath me. Why did Shelly have to go and spoil things yet again? Everything was fine until she came along.
    “Amy?” Mum knocks on my bedroom door. “Can I come in?”
    “No! I’m getting changed.” I hear her walk away. I lie very still as streams of hot, angry tears roll down my cheeks.
    There’s a rap on my bedroom door. I look at my watch. It’s just after eight and apart from the nightmare that was Alex’s bath, and dinner, I’ve been up here all evening. Alex created a tidal wave by shifting his tubby pink bum from one end of the bath to the other, soaking the bathroom floor. Water dripped through the gap between the side of the bath and the lino, down through the ceiling and on to the hall floor. Of course I got blamed for not keeping a proper eye on him. I tried to explain I was too busy wiping the soapy water out of my eyes as he kept splashing me, but