Free Girls Out Late by Jacqueline Wilson Page A

Russell, but I’m going to stick to this nine o’clock curfew for the time being. I think that’s more than fair.”
    “I don’t!”
    “Well, it gets dark by nine—so you couldn’t do any sketching then, could you?” says Dad, smiling.
    I smile back weakly. I don’t know who’s bluffing who. But at least I can see Russell—even if it’s only in daylight!
    I go up to my bedroom and read his letter again. Several times more. Then I go downstairs and ring Nadine and tell her that it’s all OK and that Russell walked round and round the town looking for me, practically knocking at every house door.
    Nadine isn’t quite as impressed as I’d hoped. She’s got her Claudie album playing full blast (her family are obviously out) and she’s singing along instead of concentrating fully. I need to ask her something.
    “Nadine, do you really think Russell looks seriously shifty?”
    Nadine herself sounds as if she’s doing some serious shifting on the other end of the phone. “No, no, Ellie, not at all. I was just, you know, saying stuff to comfort you. I don’t think his eyes are too close together either. I think it was just his intense expression when he was sketching you.”
    I let it go at that. I ring Magda next. She’s got some great news for me first—her dad has booked three tickets for us to go and hear Claudie next month! “There, aren’t you pleased, Ellie? Claudie will cheer you up. He’s not worth it, worth it, worth it, right?”
    “Well, maybe he
is
worth it after all, Magda.”
    I fill her in on all the details, massaging the facts even more impressively, so that I have Russell practically trekking round the entire country looking for me.
    I wait for Magda’s comments. There’s a little silence on the end of the phone.
    “So it shows he didn’t just stand me up,” I say.
    “Sorry, Ellie, I’m not quite clear. You mean he stood you up because his dad wouldn’t let him go out?”
    “He didn’t stand me up, he wanted to come.”
    “But Daddy wouldn’t let him.”
    I don’t like that Daddy bit. I pause. “I take it you still think Russell is awfully juvenile, just wanting to show off about himself?”
    I can hear Magda swallowing.
    “No, no, well, not Russell in particular. Just most boys in Year Eleven. I mean, they’re better than the pathetic creeps in Year Ten, not to mention Year Nine, but they’re still not exactly . . . mature.”
    “So you think that Russell is
im
mature?”
    “Oh, Ellie, stop being so prickly. I think all boys are immature, full stop. But your Russell is great . . . for a boy.”
    I agree happily and tell her to thank her dad for ordering the tickets. Sometime I am going to have to tackle
my
dad about coughing up the cash, but maybe it might be better to wait till tomorrow seeing as we have already spent so long negotiating today.
    I decide to put myself in a good light by making him another coffee, even though it’s nearly teatime. I wonder where Anna and Eggs have got to. I have to make sure I get Anna on her own to get her to promise to keep quiet about my sneaking out to meet Russell on Friday night. If Dad knows I deliberately disobeyed him then maybe he’ll stop me seeing Russell altogether. And I
have
to see him!
    I think about him going round all those houses asking for me. It’s like a fairy tale. He’s the handsome prince on the loopy quest: knock three times on every house in this street and the next and
then
you will find the princess and get to kiss her. . . .
    I go into a happy little daze in my bedroom and don’t resurface until I hear the front door.
    “Is that you, Anna?” I shout.
    “No, it’s just me,” Dad calls. “I was looking down the road to see if there was any sign of them. I don’t know where they’ve got to.”
    “Where were they going? Shopping?” I peer over the banisters at him.
    “Ellie! As if Anna would go shopping with Eggs. You know what a pain he can be. No, Nadine’s mum phoned her up.” Dad pulls a