Chapter 2- Don’t End Up Like Your Father

  “Saffy! Jaz! Please don’t go!” Bryony stood at the door of the cottage, watching in dismay as her friends departed hastily through the garden gate.

  She couldn’t believe the afternoon had turned into such a disaster. Saffy and Jaz would never talk to her again. She’d be cut adrift, branded a social outcast.

  Just like Edwin.

  Edwin. It was all his fault. And that stupid mouse of his.

  Gritting her teeth, Bryony stormed back down the hallway. So Edwin was studying, was he? Bryony swore to teach him a lesson he’d never forget. And Stubby, too. She’d make the pair of them suffer…

  Bryony was dreaming up a suitable magical punishment when the dining room door opened, and a stack of paper lurched into the hallway.

  Bryony called out a warning, but the paper didn’t hear and went stumbling into her. There was a squeal as they collided, and suddenly the paper was strewn across the floor.

  Bryony’s stepmother Jane stood where the stack of paper had been. Her eyes were wide and glassy, and her lips quivered as she surveyed the scattered sheets.

  “I’d just sorted that into order,” she wailed. “It took me hours.”

  “It’s not the end of the world,” said Bryony, not in a sympathetic mood. “Who cares if stuff is in order?”

  “It’s for my filing system.” Jane knelt to gather up the sheets of paper. “Paperwork has to be filed correctly. It’s the first rule of office work.”

  “Rules are for dweeps,” muttered Bryony, having no choice but to stand there whilst Jane scrambled around on the floor in front of her.

  “Rules are very important,” insisted Jane. “Not just in the office, but in all walks of life. Especially school.”

  Bryony thought she was going to get a lecture, but Jane seemed more intent on retrieving her precious paperwork. She had half the papers arranged in a neat stack when the front door opened.

  “I’m ho-ome!” A cheery voice wafted down the hallway, accompanied by a breeze that scattered Jane’s papers again.

  Jane groaned and clamped a hand across her face. Bill came striding down the hall, oblivious to the chaos he’d just unleashed.

  “Hi darling.” He leaned down and kissed Jane on the cheek. “See you’re still sorting out your paperwork. Thought you might have finished by now.”

  “You’re early,” said Jane, which sounded more like an accusation than a passing remark.

  Bill nodded. “I took the afternoon off.”

  “You’re unemployed.” Bryony dodged her father’s puckered lips. “How can you take the afternoon off when you don’t have a job in the first place?”

  “Looking for work is almost a job in itself,” said Bill.

  Bryony nodded. “You’re certainly making a career of it.”

  “So how did you get on today?” asked Jane, retrieving her paperwork for the second time.

  “Oh brilliant.” Bill grinned. “I registered with a new job agency. They fed all my personal details into a computer, which matched my unique skillsets to all applicable vacancies.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Jane looked at Bill with a hopeful smile. “So what did the computer say?”

  Bill’s grin faded. “It said there aren’t any applicable vacancies. Except one in a zoo which I didn’t like the sound of. Even though I would have got my own hanging tyre.”

  “Oh darling,” sighed Jane. “Will you ever get a job?”

  “Don’t worry,” said Bill. “Something will turn up. A man with my talents can’t be overlooked for long.”

  “But you don’t have any talents,” said Bryony.

  “Yes I do,” argued Bill. “I have an excellent memory, fine numerical skills, and, er… an excellent memory.”

  Bryony shook her head. “That won’t be enough to get a decent job.”

  “But I have perseverance,” insisted Bill. “And I’m trying.”

  Bryony rolled her eyes. “Very.”

  Then she heard a whimpering noise, and looked down to see that Jane was crying.

  “What’s wrong, love?” Bill knelt and put an arm around Jane’s shoulder.

  “I’m just a bit tired,” snivelled Jane, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “I’m finding it hard to cope being acting head teacher.”

  “Don’t worry.” Bill gave Jane a hug. “I’m sure it’s nowhere near as hard as being a proper one.”

  Bryony didn’t think that was the right thing to have said, and Jane’s reaction proved her right.

  “There there.” Bill cradled Jane as she sobbed uncontrollably. “You don’t have to be acting head teacher if you don’t want to.”

  “I don’t have a choice,” groaned Jane. “We can’t survive on my normal wages, so I’ll have to carry on until you get a job.”

  “That could take years,” said Edwin, emerging from the kitchen.

  Despite sharing Edwin’s doubts about her father’s employment prospects, Bryony scowled at her stepbrother.

  “Go away,” she snarled. “You’ll make things worse.”

  “I only came to find out what’s happened to my tea,” said Edwin. “It was due five minutes ago. I’m running a tight revision schedule, you know.”

  “I’ll make some tea in a moment,” said Jane. “After I’ve got all my papers back in order.”

  “I’ll give you a hand.” Bill dropped to his knees to gather up the paperwork. “The kids can help too.”

  “I’m revising.” Edwin retreated hurriedly into the kitchen.

  “Bryony will help us.” Bill nodded encouragingly at his daughter.

  “Bryony should be revising too,” said Jane.

  “No way,” said Bryony. “Revising is for dweeps.”

  “Schoolwork is important.” Jane used her arms to sweep the fallen papers into a pile. “If you don’t study hard you could end up like your father.”

  Bryony was horrified at the thought. “You mean I’ll wear dodgy lumberjack shirts and sing all the wrong words to pop songs on the radio?”

  “No,” said Jane. “I mean you’ll find it difficult to get a job when you leave school.”

  “I’ll find a job soon,” promised Bill.

  “You’ve been saying that for months,” said Jane. “Why don’t you leave this to me, and go check today’s paper to see if any new vacancies have come up?”

  “Good idea.” Bill stood up and marched off down the hallway.

  “You’ve got some of my paperwork,” Jane reminded him.

  “Oh yeah, sorry.” Bill turned round, smiled, and then dropped the papers onto the floor. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

  “What a berk,” grumbled Bryony, rolling her eyes as she watched her father disappear into the lounge. “The only vacancy around here is his brain.”

  “Please don’t be rude about your father,” said Jane, frantically sorting through the carpet of scattered papers. “And I really think you should follow Edwin’s example and do some revising.”

  “Whatever.” Bryony had no intention of wasting her precious time revising, but wasn’t prepared to stand in the hallway arguing about it. Instead she decided to go up to her room for a good sulk.

  Bryony stormed past Jane, trampling all over the scattered paperwork in the process. Jane wailed with dismay, but Bryony smiled as she crunched and tore the papers underfoot.

  Bryony stormed up the stairs, but when she reached the landing she noticed a torn sheet of paper looped round her foot. Her instinct was kick the paper off, that was until she noticed what was written on it.

  Or rather, one particular word written on it.

  That word was ‘Bryony’.

  Curious, Bryony stooped and picked up the paper. As it was torn, she had to do a bit of origami before she could read the whole thing.

  And what she read made her giddy with shock.

  This was serious stuff. Bryony’s life was under threat, her very reason to exist placed in serious jeopardy.

  She
needed help, and urgently.

  But Bryony waited until later, when the house was dark and silent, before tiptoeing into the lounge…