Gran just smiled and handed her the cake she’d made, one of her delish Victoria sponges. Samantha (who gives their kid the same name as them?!) showed us into an enormous sort of kitchen/living room/TV room. It was so lovely; there were two huge sofas in front of the biggest TV I’ve ever seen in my life. It was more like a cinema really. And at the other end of the room there was a massive dining table with a big vase of gorgeous flowers on it. The sort of flowers you see on the front of a magazine, like proper flowers – not a crummy bunch from a petrol station like the ones Dumbledore Chops brought Mum the other day. At Sam’s it was all beautiful and perfect.

  Sam’s house reminded me a bit of some of the houses of the girls who I used to be at Greyfriars with. Even our old house never looked like that, even when we used to have more money! Mum’s never been a swish-flowers-on-the-table type, I guess, unlike GB, who is definitely one of those, like Sam’s mum. Only GB is a lot older, but just as snobby.

  Samantha made tea and put out some absolutely yummy home-made flapjacks and Gran’s cake that she’d sliced up. (I so wanted to eat loads of the flapjacks and the cake but managed not to!) We all sat around, and it was a bit eggy at first TBH. No one was saying much, even Gran who can usually talk for Britain, but then Sam, thank god, told us about how he’d been on a school trip (which is why I hadn’t seen him walking Bonnie, I guess) and about how great it had been. And then Samantha asked where I was at school and when I said Heathside Academy, she definitely looked a bit embarrassed, because she paused for a moment and then replied, ‘Oh, right. Good for you,’ but like she meant the exact opposite.

  Anyway, none of that was a big deal really compared to what happened later. I mean, anyone could have guessed, just from seeing the house and kitchen and everything, that Sam’s mum was going to be a bit posh, but not that she’d be super horrible. Not all posh people are horrible – I should know!

  After a bit, Gran and Sam’s mum started talking about the puppies Bonnie was going to have and what was going to happen to them and all that.

  Gran said, ‘Well, I hear you’re going to sell them and if that’s the case I’d like to take them all, if that’s okay with you.’

  Sam’s mum paused again (super annoying if she does that every time she speaks) and said, ‘Ah, I see …’ She said it in that way grown-ups say ‘I see’ when you just know what they really mean is they don’t see at all but they’re saying that because they don’t like what you’re saying.

  And then Samantha said in a really snooty way, ‘The thing is, each of these puppies, and there are going to be three, will sell for between seven and eight hundred pounds and …’ She trailed off then and gave a sort of and-there-you-have-it wave of her hand, making it completely obvious that she realised Gran couldn’t afford that kind of money.

  I was so furious that she had just assumed that Gran wasn’t as rich as she so obviously is. I didn’t dare look at Sam in case he was doing an ‘I agree with my mum’ face.

  Gran looked really shocked for a moment and then said, ‘Well, the puppies are half mine anyway and since I gather you don’t actually want them, and I do, it never occurred to me that money would come into it.’

  Good for Gran. I was really proud of her. She was right as well. You can’t not want something, complain about having it, but then want loads of money for it, can you?

  Sam’s mum gave Gran one of those ‘oh dear, you don’t understand’ smiles, one of those smiles people do when they really want to sneer instead of smile. ‘Ah, well, yes. I didn’t want Bonnie to have puppies, that’s right, but since she is and I’ve found out how much they go for it seemed silly not to take advantage of the situation.’ And then she gave a little laugh as if that was going to make Gran suddenly see it all from her point of view.

  I think that was probably what did it for Gran, who then said in a voice that was a mixture of sad and angry, ‘I don’t have that kind of money. If I did I’d happily pay for the puppies. But if I were in your situation I wouldn’t dream of selling them. I’d just be delighted that someone was prepared to take them into a home where they were actually wanted.’

  Which I thought was a really good point, because wouldn’t most dog lovers want at least some of the puppies from their own dog?

  Then horrible Sam’s mum let out another of those laughing-but-really-sneering little laughs and said, ‘Ah, well, I’m clearly more of a hard-headed business-woman than you are!’

  At that Gran stood up and said, ‘Hard-hearted more like and clearly not a true dog-lover either. Tab, come on, we’re leaving.’

  I was a bit shocked and really embarrassed, but I did think Gran was right and I didn’t think Sam’s mum was being very nice at all, but still, it was pretty embarrassing having to suddenly stand up and march out like that.

  Sam’s mum sort of muttered a few things, which I didn’t really hear. Something about the ‘lovely cake’, as if that would flatter Gran into forgetting everything.

  I could see Sam out of the corner of my eye looking pretty awks, but I didn’t say anything to him or even look at him. I was just so upset that Gran had been humiliated. And I could tell she was furious. Gran gathered Basil up and the three of us stomped out of the house. Well, I didn’t stomp, Gran did, and Basil didn’t stomp because he can’t. I don’t think dogs can stomp and anyway Gran was holding him.

  Sam opened the front door for us and I could tell was trying to get me to look at him, but I wasn’t going to no matter what he did or said. His mum had been rude to my gran and she didn’t deserve it at all, and anyway it was only because she really, really loves dogs and would do anything for them. And that is not a reason to be rude to someone, ever.

  So that’s it. We are not going to get the puppies. And Gran is really upset. And I’m never going to go out with Sam. Not that I want to now. I am never going to talk to him again. And Sam and I are never going to look cute walking our dogs and their puppies together. I hate him and his stuck-up mum. Oh god, what am I going to say if I bump into him when I walk Basil? Hmm, actually, that is not my problem, is it? It’s Sam’s. He’s the one who should be super embarrassed. He’s the one who should be worrying about what HE’s going to say when he bumps into ME … I’ll bet he isn’t, though … I’ll bet he doesn’t care what I feel. I’ll find a new place to walk Basil and I’ll forget about Sam forever. Loser. (Him, not me BTW, obvs.)

  So, you’ll never guess what happened today when I was walking Basil.

  ‘Tab! Tab! Taaaab!’ I could hear someone, a boy, shouting my name. I didn’t look round but knew it was Sam.

  Or at least I was pretty sure it was. TBH a stranger, like a mad axeman or someone, wouldn’t exactly call out your name if he was chasing you, would he? Anyway, durr, a crazy killer wouldn’t know your name. I’d actually heard Sam the first time but I’d totes made my mind up long ago to completely ignore him if I ever did see him. I didn’t care how many times he called out; I was not going to talk to him. That was final. I was never going to talk to him again. His mum had been so rude and snooty and snotty to my lovely gran and so completely ‘all the puppies are mine’ on top of being horrible and Sam had not said or done a single thing to try to make it all right.

  If my mum had been like that to him or his mum, if they’d come over to ours, I’d definitely have said something to stop her or at least to let them know that I thought she was out of order. I’d never have just sat there with my mouth clamped shut like I thought her behaviour was completely fine. He’s pathetic. He’s a total mummy’s boy and a loser and a drip, and I wanted nothing to do with him. My mind was made up.

  But he didn’t stop running after me or calling my name. He kept on going, even though I wouldn’t stop, until eventually he caught up with me. When he finally reached me he was so out of breath he was really panting. He’d obviously been running fast. It was quite funny watching him bent over double trying to get his breath back.

  ‘I don’t want to talk to you, thanks very much, so don’t bother tryin
g,’ I said and walked on. Except I couldn’t walk on, or actually march off, which is what I was planning to do, because Basil would not budge. It was like someone had nailed his paws into the ground. I tugged really hard and even yanked his lead (which he does not enjoy!) but he was like a huge heavy stone. No matter how hard I pulled I just could not move him. He was staring at Bonnie and she was staring back at him. They were like in a trance, literally locked together doing whatever the snogging equivalent is for dogs! (No tongues, though, obvs. YUCK and what a totes mankenstein idea!)

  I tried not to catch Sam’s eye. But it was hard because it was really funny and sweet; they were so totally thrilled to see each other. It had been weeks and Bonnie had obviously had her puppies, so they might have been talking to each other about that – oh god, I sound like Gran, but you know what I mean. Dog couples must def have a way of letting each other know they’ve given birth, don’t you think?

  I couldn’t laugh or even smile, though, because I had to stay super angry in front of Sam. There was no way I was going to start letting him think that everything was okay. And then Basil, looking right into Bonnie’s eyes, made a sort of whimpering sound and tilted his head to one side exactly the same way humans do when they’re letting you know they feel sorry for you – it was uncanny.

  Sam, who’d finally caught his breath, said, ‘She’s obviously just told him about the puppies. She had three, so he’s a proud father now,’ and then he looked at me and smiled and I couldn’t help it, I smiled back.

  Our two dogs were being so incredibly soppy and it did look like they were cooing over something special to only them. It was impossible not to smile. I was so cross. I did not mean to do that.

  And then Sam, seeing me smile, obviously realising this was his in, started babbling really fast. I guess to make sure he got it all out before I walked off and he lost his chance.

  ‘I’m so sorry about what happened. My mum felt awful. She really didn’t mean to be so rude and then I lost my phone the next day so I couldn’t text or call you, and I’ve been walking Bonnie much more often than normal hoping I’d see you …’

  I didn’t know what to say at first, so I didn’t say anything. I just shrugged my shoulders like I was saying ‘whatevs’. I was actually thinking: Big deal. You’re sorry, great, but nothing’s really changed.

  ‘Mum’s been through a lot recently, my dad went off with his secretary, incredibly original, and they’re now fighting over money and we might have to sell the house and … sorry, I’m not trying to give you the whole sob story, I’m just trying to explain why Mum was like that.’

  Of course him saying that about his dad did make me feel sorry for him and I guess did sort of help me to understand why his mum had been so ghastly. After all, apart from the going-off-with-another-woman bit I have been through all that.

  And then Sam, suddenly, literally out of nowhere, turned away, like to walk off, even though he’d only been there for a second. He just said, ‘Well, that’s all I wanted to say, so see you around,’ and then he walked off!

  Literally it was just like that. Completely amazeballs – one minute he’s giving me a whole big apology and waffling on and then super abruptly he walks off as if his pants had caught fire. I was speechless. And I was furious that I’d smiled at him over our dogs. I should have stayed angry with him the whole time and never given him the chance to walk off like that, leaving me standing there like a lemon.

  After he got a few steps away he turned round and said, ‘Oh yes, I need your address. Mum would like to send your granny a note, you know, to apologise.’

  He said it like it was something he’d nearly forgotten to ask and like it wasn’t that big a deal anyway. So, great, even a note from his mum to Gran, which would mean so much to her, was like a ‘who cares’ for him. I was so surprised and actually a bit dumbstruck. I mean, he’d run after me like a maniac for ages, even after he must have realised I knew it was him and noticed that I wasn’t stopping, so obvs I’d thought whatever he was running after me to say was going to turn out to be for a much bigger reason than just getting our address. It was so extra. All that effort, just for that, and it wasn’t apparently even the main reason for running after me, which had been to explain his mum’s behaviour.

  I was really angry and I wanted to tell him to go away, but I knew Gran would be pleased with the note so I gave him our address and then just as I was about to properly flounce off, deliberately without saying goodbye or anything to make sure he knew I was super obviously Not Talking to Him, HE walked off! He managed to be the first to walk off. He just said ‘cheers’ and ran off doing a stupid little jog after Bonnie who had trotted ahead of him. HE WALKED OFF FIRST BEFORE I COULD SHOW HIM I WAS WALKING OFF!

  Grrrr. Sam, who has not One Single Reason to be annoyed with me, walked off first, leaving me like I had meant him to feel – all eggy and awks and properly aware that he’d done something bad to me! He was the one supposed to be feeling uncomfortable and like he hadn’t made it up with me, not the other way around! I could not believe what had happened. I was so cross. I had decided, if I ever did make it up with him, I’d be super frosty with him for ages and ages and make him really sweat and then only after he properly believed I was never going to talk to him again, then I’d maybe, maybe, start talking to him a bit. This had all gone wrong and so quickly I hadn’t even had a chance to notice it was happening.

  Also, the fact is, I have to admit, although I’m not going to tell anyone else – okay, maybe Grace, but that’s it – I was a bit upset that he hadn’t asked for my number again. (Which in my planned version of how things were going to go he was definitely going to do and he was going to have to ask like a zillion times, begging and pleading before I finally gave it to him.)

  He said he’d lost his phone, which happens, right, so why didn’t he ask for my number again? I guess I’d thought we were sort of making up, but I was obviously wrong. He doesn’t care about me. He only wanted to talk to me so that he could get our address for his horrible mum. Great. I so wish I hadn’t bumped into him after all. I was fine all that time I didn’t talk to him or see him and now I’m cross and upset and feel like I let him get away with something … I don’t know exactly what but, you know, I’d had my guard up really well and I’ve just let him break it down only to trot off without a care, at least about me, in the world. I AM ANNOYED.

  I heard the front door knock, but didn’t think anything about it. I knew it wasn’t going to be for me. My mates and I all text each other first if we’re planning on going to each other’s houses. But then I heard Gran squealing, which I know probably sounds a bit random, maybe even a bit scary, but it’s not that weird (or scary) if it’s my gran doing the squealing. It would be if it was anyone else’s gran because old ladies squealing is a bit … I dunno, extra, but Gran does do it quite a lot.

  So this time, I just thought she’d got Basil into that new jumpsuit she’s been knitting him and was super thrilled with how he looked in it. (I am not kidding, it is literally a jumpsuit but with a special hole for him to wee through – major mankenstein. I swear to god I am NEVER EVER taking him out in that.)

  Then Gran called up the stairs for me to come down. She sounded like it was really urgent. I didn’t want to go down. I was in a super-bad mood because of what had just happened with Sam and didn’t feel like pretending I thought Basil’s latest outfit was fantastic.

  Anyway, I’m never mean to Gran, so I did go down and guess what? You are never going to believe this. Sam was standing in the kitchen, in OUR KITCHEN, holding a basket with the sweetest little puppies you have ever seen in your life in it. There are the tiniest, teensiest things ever. They’ve got miniature black buttons for noses (not real buttons, durr, but that’s what they look like) and their fur is soft and fluffy. They look like they’ve been blow-dried with a hair-dryer. They were peeping over the side of the basket, with their paws over the edge. It was just like a photo from the front of a tin of biscuits. TOTES ADORABLE.
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  Sam gave me a half-smile. ‘Sorry I rushed off and didn’t say anything, but I wanted to surprise you. Mum would like your gran to have these. Is that okay?’ he said, turning to Gran.

  ‘Okay? It’s a great deal more than okay. It is just wonderful. I am thrilled. Please thank your mother very much!’ Gran squeaked (she was so excited), holding out both her arms for the basket.

  Sam handed it over and Gran plonked herself down in her chair, lowering the basket onto her lap. She was literally in heaven – puppy heaven! She started making baby noises at the puppies, which was a bit embarrassing in front of Sam, natch.

  I was super pleased for Gran, and, yes, all right, really pleased that Sam had gone to all that effort to surprise me, but obvs I was also panicking that Sam was in our house – aaaargh. Sam was actually inside my house! It was major.

  You could fit about two million of our houses into his house. We didn’t have any posh flowers on the kitchen table (as if, we never do). It was just like our house always is – messy, not done up and chaotic. And also I was panicking about what if Luke walked in or, worse, Mum, or, total disaster, Dumbledore Chops popped round (like he is always doing these days – I don’t know why he doesn’t just move in he’s here so often). Erm, there was no way I was going to let him meet Sam. He would so show me up with his look-at-me-understanding-kids-today non-stop head nodding. So, I wanted to get Sam out of my house as quickly as possible to avoid anything like that but obvs I didn’t want to look like I was still cross with him.