Free Girl, 16: Five-Star Fiasco by Sue Limb Page A

embarrassed expression came over Ed’s face.
    ‘Ah,’ he said, rubbing his nose (always a negative gesture). ‘Different!’
    ‘Yes,’ admitted Mum uneasily. ‘He certainly is different.’
    ‘He did you no good at all, then, Madeleine?’ remarked Ed, staring at Mum with a mixture of disbelief and pity. ‘Not very easy for you, neither, Jessica, having a Dad who’s a little bit queer.’
    ‘Oh no!’ Jess felt furious. ‘Everybody at school’s jealous. They all think it’s amazingly cool.’
    ‘I told you so, Dad!’ snapped Polly. ‘You shouldn’t be so homophobic.’
    ‘No need for them long words, Pol,’ said Ed crossly, folding his arms defensively over his enormous gut. ‘I’m just a normal bloke.’
     
    Much later that night, when they had escaped at last and were having a late-night cup of hot choc, Mum announced that her dating experiment was at an end, and that from now on she would do anything to avoid spending another evening, or even five minutes, in the company of a ‘normal bloke’. Jess wondered if Mum was being a little harsh. Polly and Jess had exchanged phone numbers and email addresses – she wouldn’t mind seeing Polly again some time, even if their parents’ first date was going to be their last.
    When Jess finally gained the sanctuary of her own room and checked her emails, the latest episode from Lord Volcano was waiting.
    ‘I know you, Volcano,’ hissed Sir Filo Pastry from the depths of his cloud-blue cloak. ‘I know you’re plotting against me. We intercepted your snail.’
    ‘Not Donald!’ cried Lord Volcano in alarm.
    ‘We’re debriefing him now.’ Sir Filo Pastry nodded menacingly. ‘He’s singing like a canary.’
    Lord Volcano uttered a strangled cry. Please, don’t let them torture poor Donald! he prayed .
    ‘And when we’ve got every bit of info out of him, we’re going to have him boiled with garlic butter and a fine Chianti. But as for you, Volcano,’ continued the evil Sir F, ‘you’re going to be taken out to sea and set adrift in a small boat with only enough peanut butter sandwiches to last until Sunday.’
    And with a diabolical echoing laugh, he was gone. The door slammed.
    Lord Volcano shuddered. Would he ever see his beloved long-lost daughter Messica again?

Chapter 13
     
     
     
    On Sunday at lunchtime the gang met in the Dolphin Cafe. The old Dolphin was looking good: the walls had been repainted a Caribbean turquoise for the new year, and there were new twirling mobiles of dolphins, made of beautiful twinkling silver and glass. But Maria, the cafe owner, looked more melancholy than ever. She had a tendency towards heartbreak; in fact, she’d already had three heartbreaks since Christmas.
    Jess, Fred, Flora, Ben Jones, Mackenzie, Jodie and Tiffany bagged the biggest table and ordered some drinks. But for once Jess didn’t feel hungry: that morning, she and Fred had exchanged tense and stressy text messages about the missing money. Fred insisted that he’d searched his bedroom from top to bottom and hadn’t found it; Jess was equally sure he hadn’t even looked. They couldn’t mention it in front of everybody, though: it was the elephant in the room.
    ‘Have you written your stand-up for Chaos yet?’ Jodie asked Fred.
    He shook his head and looked embarrassed.
    ‘No, no, I was busy all week embroidering lampshades,’ said Fred. It was a kind of lame gag by his standards, but everybody laughed. Normally Jess loved the way everybody laughed at Fred’s jokes, but she was in such a peculiar mood today, she didn’t seem able to cope with it. Instead she felt a sudden urge to lay it all on the line (except for the missing money, of course) and fess up to the mess.
    ‘Listen, guys,’ she said. ‘Fred and I are a bit out of our depth organising this Chaos thing. We could use some help.’
    ‘Leave it with me,’ said Mackenzie. ‘I think it needs a Wild West motif.’
    ‘Shut it, Mackenzie, you idiot,’ murmured Ben, giving