Fat Boy Swim by Catherine Forde Read Free Book Online Page B

Mum.
    ‘Something like that,’ said Jimmy.
    The women crowded him at the cooker.
    ‘Something like what? What’s he been saying?’ Aunt Pol practically spat the words out. It wasn’t like Jimmy to play games, even mind games.
    ‘He’s gonna teach me to swim. Says I’ve got swimmer’s shoulders.’
    ‘What?’ Aunt Pol’s tone made Jimmy glance up from the soup he was stirring. He frowned.
    She had turned whiter than a slab of buffalo mozzarella.

MAIN COURSES

Chapter 12
    I don’t like Mondays
    Two minutes to nine.
    He was going to be late.
    Jimmy stumbled from the bus – already pulling off while one leg was still on – and groaned.
    He should have taken a chance. Alighted with the other kids from St Jude’s. Who knows? Monday morning. Folk might not have been in slagging mode yet.
    Now Jimmy would join the Latecomer’s Line outside the Heedie’s office. The Usual Suspects in the line up would tease him as per:
    Jumbo Jimmy Fifty Bellies.
    Piggy in a blazer.
    Everyone passing the Heedie’s door would gawp as though Jimmy was on temporary loan from the Museum of the Revolting. Cheeky wee first years doing impressions to amuse their mates, puffing out their cheeks and chests, holding their breath until they turned beetroot, waddling from side to side, belly-bumping anyone coming the other way up the corridor.
    Why was he late today? Not today. All the classes in third year were having an assessment first period to sort out English sets for next term. If Jimmy made the top set he’d have Mrs Hughes again next term, a fantastic teacher. To give himself a fighting chance he’d had an early night to make sure he didn’t sleep in. And he’d actually had a great sleep. No bad dream last night. No Hungry Hole this morning. But now the day was going downhill even though it was uphill all the way to St Jude’s. A steep, steady rise. Jimmy’s legs felt stiff, jerky. He pecked. Heard the bell ring.
    How tempting, how very tempting for him to about turn and retreat into the peace and comfort of his own bedroom.
    Mum wouldn’t mind.
Quite right to come home, son. Shouldn’t overexert yourself.
    No!
    The hand of responsibility settled in the small of Jimmy’s back and pushed him onwards.
    ‘No!’ Jimmy swore he heard a real-life female voice echo. Jimmy froze.
    Up ahead, in the bin alley by the school gates, several girls formed a tight huddle.
    Jimmy’s blood ran cold as he homed in on the scorpion ankle tattoo and platinum perm of Senga McGuiness.
    ‘Beam me up, Scotty,’ he implored.
    Last time this coven had pressed him up against a wall, Senga had made Chantal unbutton Jimmy’s trousers to see if he wore a corset. Too late. He’d been clocked. Chantal McGrory already nudging Senga.
    Jimmy shuffled onwards, bracing his shoulders against the first attack.
    ‘Ith it twinth ow twiplets?’ Chantal lisped. Senga, the ringleader, seemed otherwise engaged. She had someone trapped in the middle of the huddle.
    ‘I said
no
! Leave me alone,’ cried the same voice Jimmy had heard a moment ago. This time he recognised it.
    ‘
Leave me alone,
’ Senga repeated in a wheedling voice. ‘Posh, in’t she? Gonny make me?’ she added with a snarl.
    With a flick of her wrist, Senga sent Ellie McPherson’s spectacles skiting along the ground. They landed near Jimmy’s feet.
    ‘Stop it. I
need
them.’
    ‘
I need them
,’ voices cackled back, as Senga lunged for the spectacles, one foot raised to smash them.
    And at that moment, two remarkable things happened.
    First, Jimmy beat Senga to the quarry, bending with a grunt to snatch Ellie’s specs before Senga’s trainer squished them. Second, from the deepest recesses of Jimmy’s chest, a voice yelled:
    ‘Leave her alone.’
    Jimmy launched himself at the two henchgirls who held the struggling Ellie in their grip. They were so taken aback when Jimmy butted in that they let Ellie’s arms go and she plunged like a missile from a catapult head first into