Another Life Altogether: A Novel - By Elaine Beale Page 0,149
heavy, since I’d begun lugging all my letters around. “He promised me he’d never do it again. Said he doesn’t like her anyway. He was just cadging a cig off her, that’s all. Anyway, I made him drive me home and we rode right by Margery Pearson’s bus on the way back. With a bit of luck, she’ll have seen him with me and she’ll know to keep her greasy hands off him from now on.”
Just then Dizzy arrived, shuffling up to the bus stop without even looking at us.
“Hiya, Dizzy,” Tracey said brightly.
Dizzy, who was used to being either completely ignored by Tracey or the target of her insults, blinked at Tracey. Her brown eyes, magnified through the thick lenses of her glasses, made me think of the saucer-shaped stares of goldfish as they eased themselves beneath the water of our pond.
“You all right?” Tracey asked, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder.
Dizzy nodded cautiously. “Yeah.”
“Hey, why don’t you come and sit down here, on the bench.” Tracey pulled herself out of her slouch so there was more space between the two of us. “There’s plenty of room for you here,” she said, patting the wooden slats next to her and flashing Dizzy another smile.
Dizzy looked at me, as if seeking some hint as to why Tracey was being so uncharacteristically pleasant. I gave a little shrug. I had no idea what had got into her. I could only think that perhaps making up with Greg had made her so happy that she was prepared to be warm and friendly toward even those she normally despised. “I’m fine here,” Dizzy concluded, taking a step back and stuffing her hands into the pockets of her scruffy anorak.
“Suit yourself,” Tracey said. “I just wanted to ask you something, that’s all. You’re still friends with Malcolm Clements, aren’t you?” Tracey’s tone was cheery, not a hint of a threat in it.
“Yeah.” Dizzy gave me another suspicious glance. Then, finding no clue there, she looked back at Tracey. “What about it?”
“Nothing, really. It’s just that I want you to give him a message. Can you do that?”
“I suppose so,” Dizzy said.
Naturally, I expected Tracey to issue another threat to Malcolm, or ask Dizzy to convey another slew of insults. So I was taken aback when I heard her speak to Dizzy in her sweetest tone. “Can you tell him that I want to apologize to him? That I’m sorry about what I said.”
“You are?” I burst out, unable to contain my surprise. This was certainly a first for Tracey. Particularly after the display she’d put on yesterday in the corridor after Ms. Hastings’s lesson, it came as quite a shock.
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about what Ms. Hastings said yesterday and I realized that what I said to Malcolm wasn’t very nice.” Tracey regarded Dizzy with a look of unwrinkled sincerity. “I mean, calling him a poof and all that. It’s … well … I realize that Ms. Hastings is right—I shouldn’t use words like that.”
The idea that Tracey had given Ms. Hastings’s remarks such consideration warmed me. It wasn’t that I expected to confide in her about my confused feelings for Amanda, but the idea that she was even open to thinking about these things gave me a little thrill of hope.
“Will you tell him?” She looked at Dizzy expectantly.
Dizzy shrugged. “I’ll tell him. I don’t know what he’ll say, but I’ll tell him.”
Tracey beamed. “Thanks. Because I probably won’t see him in school. I haven’t got any lessons with him today.” She put her hand in one of her coat pockets and pulled out a packet of chewing gum. “Want a piece of chewy?” she said, offering the packet to Dizzy.
Dizzy shook her head, and Tracey took out a piece and started unwrapping it. Before she was done, though, she looked up at Dizzy, as if a thought had suddenly come to her. “Hey, maybe you could tell Malcolm I’d really like to make up for things by apologizing to his face? It’d be nice if we could clear the air. I’ll be by the gates, right after school. Can you tell him that?” Her voice was high, filled with eagerness. It seemed, amazingly, as if she really wanted to put things right.
“I don’t know if he’ll want to talk to you,” Dizzy responded. She was blinking fast, and I noticed how pale and sparse her eyelashes were. Under her glasses they looked frondlike and alive.