par with the tyre, had settled on me. I was pretty sure I knew who’d done it. Last week a mouldy bag of prawns had been pushed through the letter box while we were at work. Judging by the awful smell in the hallway it had happened sometime before the heat of the day had hit twenty-eight degrees and they’d sat there cooking at maximum temperature for a large part of the day. The week before, five unexpected pizzas had turned up. How much longer were Sam and I going to have to put up with this sort of thing? We weren’t doing anyone any harm. Was I going to have to go to the police? It was my absolute last resort, as I was convinced it would stir up more trouble between Sam and his friends, because they’d all take Victoria’s side. It was petty, mindless stuff on the surface but done with malicious intent to cause inconvenience and trouble. And there was no way of proving it was Victoria. I didn’t even know for sure that it was her. Did she know we were going away to Cornwall this weekend? Was her timing deliberate?
I looked around the street, my skin prickling. Was she watching? Or was I imagining the whole thing and it was just bad luck?
Sitting high up in the comfort of Uncle Richard’s Mazda CX5 I grinned as we sailed along the M5 on the second leg of our journey, already feeling slightly nauseous thanks to eating nearly a whole pack of Jelly Babies.
‘You look pleased with yourself,’ said Sam, offering me the last sweet in the bag.
‘I’m just having a smug moment. If it was Victoria who did that to my car, her evil plan backfired spectacularly.’
‘Karma,’ said Sam, biting the head off the final jelly baby with a snap of his teeth. ‘This is a very nice car.’
Upon hearing what had happened to my car, Richard had immediately suggested that we take his. I’d been insured on it earlier in the year when he’d twisted his ankle; because he worked not far from me, I’d chauffeured him to work every day as he’d refused to be seen in the Minnie Mouse Mobile, as he referred to my car. Like I was going to complain, when I got the chance to drive his big luxury car with its heated seats, warning beepers all around, and surround-sound entertainment system (actually, I might have made the last bit up, but the car had a jolly fancy console).
‘But … that doesn’t make up for what she did.’
‘If it was her.’ I sighed.
‘I’m going to ask her.’
‘But if it is her, she must know that we’ll think it’s her. She wants us to know.’
‘Well, then I’ll ask her to stop.’
‘Like that’s going to work.’
‘When we get back I’ll go and see her. Perhaps if I talk to her face to face.’
‘Good luck with that one.’ In frustration, I resorted to heavy sarcasm that Sam really didn’t deserve. I knew he was as fed off with the situation as I was. Perhaps more so because he was being ostracised by his friends.
‘Well, what do you suggest?’ he asked with a distinct snap in his voice which made me feel doubly guilty.
‘Hey.’ I put my hand out and laid it on his thigh. ‘Are we about to have our first row?’
He pushed his hand through his mop of hair. ‘No. I refuse to row because of Vic. I’m sorry. I just never imagined it would get so complicated. It makes me so cross. I didn’t fall in love with you on purpose and I tried to do the right thing. God, I did everything I could to put you out of my head.’
‘Sorry. I’m a limpet.’ I tried to make a joke of it.
‘Don’t apologise; that makes me cross.’ And from the terse cut of his words, he sounded it. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong. Neither of us have. There’s no reason for either of us to apologise.’ His hands clenched on his thighs, the knuckles white on his tanned hands. ‘It would have been wrong to carry on things with Victoria knowing that I felt something for someone else.’
I knew all that. ‘But I feel like everything is still messed up. I thought by now things would have settled down. You don’t see your friends anymore and you’ve fallen out with your mum.’
‘We haven’t fallen out,’ said Sam a little too quickly.
‘Hmm? When was the last time you saw her?’
‘We’ve