Recipe for Rebellion (Zodiac Girls) Read online

‘The same.”

  “Hey Joe. Listen. This isn’t my phone. Someone else must have left it in your cafe.”

  “No. It’s yours.”

  “No. It isn’t.”

  “Did you look at the site?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you know you’re this month’s Zodiac Girl?”

  “Er yeah… whatever that means.”

  “It means that this is your phone. Use it when you need help.”

  “Help?”

  “Yes.”

  “From who? You mean like the emergency services?”

  “No. Help from me.”

  “From you? You mean like if I need a take away? Oh that’s brilliant. Thank you so much. I thought it was some kind of business promotion. Yeah. Thanks.”

  “No. That’s not it at all. It’s not so that you can order take away. I meant that you can get help from me. Joe.”

  “But why would I want help from you?”

  “Because I’m your guardian. One month only. Special offer. Joe for Jupiter. That’s me. Jupiter rules Sagittarius.”

  He’s quite clearly deranged, I thought. Harmless but deranged. I decided to try and humour him. “I… I’m sure that’s very kind but I can’t afford a guardian or whatever…”

  Joe laughed. “No cost. Free service. Because you’re this month’s Zodiac Girl.”

  “But I already have a guardian. My Aunt Esme.”

  “Aunt Esme. Yes. Good,” said Joe. “Bring her with you one day to the deli. But seriously, we’re different sorts of guardians. Call me whenever you need help. And keep checking into the site. I’ll put a list of all the signs and their ruling planets on there so you can see that I’m not making it up. All the planets are here in human form you know.”

  “What?” Definitely quite mad, I thought.

  “Yeah. Human form. But enough for now. All will be revealed. And in case you try to call anyone else on the phone, you can’t. Only me.”

  And with that, he hung up.

  I went back to my computer and uploaded the site. A huge arrow appeared pointing to a list on the right-hand side.

  “Birth signs and their ruling planets,” it read.

  I pushed my mouse over to it then scrolled down:

  Sign Ruled by

  Aries Mars

  Taurus Venus

  Gemini Mercury

  Cancer Moon

  Leo Sun

  Virgo Mercury

  Libra Venus

  Scorpio Pluto

  Sagittarius Jupiter

  Capricorn Saturn

  Aquarius Uranus

  Pisces Neptune.

  Okay, right. Interesting, I thought. A list of star signs and their ruling planets. But Joe had said that he was Jupiter and my guardian. Was Jupiter. And that all the planets were here in human form. I chuckled to myself. What a nutter. I’d heard of people thinking mad stuff like they were Napoleon or a chicken or something but I’d never come across someone thinking that they were a planet before. Wow. All respect to him, I thought. It’s amazing that being so barmy, he’s managed to keep his deli going!

  Chapter Five

  Nits

  “Year Nine will see the nurse first period then Year Eight after break,” Mrs Richards announced at school assembly.

  “What’s happening?” I asked Sushila as I took my place in line. I was late for school because my curiosity had got the better of me and I’d taken another peek at the astrology site to see if there were any messages on there for me as Zodiac Girl. Sadly there was nothing very exciting, only my birth chart and my horoscope so I printed them off and had a quick look on the bus on the way to school.

  Zodiac Girl’s horoscope: An alignment between Uranus and Jupiter last Saturday led to surprise events.

  Monday: a day for glorious rebellion – go for it.

  Tuesday: the Moon moves into Cancer causing confusion.

  Jupiter is in an expansive mood and brushes your chart with possibilities should you choose to take them.

  Birth chart: Sagittarius Sun, Cancer rising, Moon in Taurus…

  There were pages and pages. Some made a bit of sense – that Sagittarians are known for their big mouths and for being spontaneous and sporty and that they hate being hemmed in. They prefer roaming about outdoors and having adventures. True, true, true, I thought. And Cancer rising meant that I would be home loving and that although I might present a hard exterior, inside I was a big softie. Also true, but there were other parts of the birth chart that I didn’t understand – that Saturn was square to Mars and the Moon was conjunct with Jupiter in the third house. I don’t like not understanding things and I like a challenge so I had tried to decipher it. This made me late getting to the bus stop hence I’d got to school after the first bell and missed half of our headmistress’s announcement. Not that I cared. Today could be my last day at the school if all went well and being late was a part of my plan to get myself thrown out.

  “Nits,” said Sushila. She took a look at my dreadlocks then stepped back. “We all have to see the nit nurse. She’s going to have fun with your mop isn’t she?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Not my idea of a fun way to start the day.” But not even the nit nurse could ruin the good mood I was in. I had a bag full of tricks from Uri’s shop to try out and couldn’t wait to get started.

  The nurse put her comb into my hair and tugged it in an attempt to drag it through.

  “Ow,” I yelped putting my hands up to grab her wrists. “You’re hurting.”

  Nurse Torturer shook my hands off and narrowed her eyes. “Tough. It’s your own fault for having this peculiar hair. It’s impossible,” she said as she yanked at my head again. “I can’t get the comb through. It’s one big knot.”

  “It’s not meant to be combed,” I said.

  Nurse T gave me a withering look which I think was supposed to scare me into submission but I stared right back at her. I was thinking, I must remember that expression and practise it at home. Purse the mouth, flare the nostrils slightly, narrow the eyes, frown and bingo, you have an excellent withering look. Nurse T’s example was effective. She was intimidating and a half. Tall and bony with wiry grey hair and thin skin through which you could see the blue veins inside pulse with her blood. And she stank of disinfectant. Not one to be messed with.

  “It’s not meant to have nits either,” she said, “but unless I can get this comb through, I can’t be sure whether you have them or not. So young Madam. What do you suggest?”

  “That you leave me alone. Can’t we leave it? I’m sure I haven’t got nits.”

  “Not an option. I have a job to do.”

  “I’d know if I had nits,” I said. “I’d feel them.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “Well even if I do have nits, I don’t want you to kill them. It’s cruelty to animals. I’ll report you to the NSPCA. Nit killer.”

  Nurse T gave me an exasperated look. “Listen kid, I have hundreds of pupils to see today. So here’s the deal. Either you comb out your hair or I’ll have to cut it off. The choice is yours but I will be back to check on you, you can count on that.”

  “You can’t make me cut my hair!”

  “Try me. I’ll be back next week and either your hair is combed out so that I can get my comb through it or the lot comes off.”

  “I’m going to report you to the Head,” I said.

  “You do that,” she said. “But not before I send you to see her myself.

  “You do that,” I said.

  Great, I thought as I got up to leave. I’d love to get sent to the Head again. All part of the plan and soon Dad would have no choice but to let me go back home. I couldn’t wait as actually it was beginning to get boring acting tough and defiant all the time. It’s not me normally. I like learning. And I like doing well at school so it went against the grain to always be disinterested in class and not do my homework properly so that I got bad marks. I didn’t want it to go on too long, like months or years or anything as I need to get go
od results in the end so that I can get the job I want. I’m still not sure what career I want but it will be either a travel writer, a foreign ambassador or a dancer on a pop music show on TV. Although you don’t need mega qualifications for the last one, you do for the first two and I didn’t want to mess up my chances in the long run by this bad girl act that I was having to pull. The sooner my plan worked, the quicker I could get back into ensuring my school CV was up to scratch.

  When I’d finished with the nit nurse, I sneaked into the teacher’s cloakroom and left the dirty face soap on one of the sinks. Then I reached up and took the mirror off its hook behind the door and stashed it in the end cubicle. With no mirror to check their appearance, any teacher who used the soap wouldn’t know that their skin had changed colour until it was too late.

  I made sure that I hung about near the cloakroom in the break so I could see if anyone went in and used the soap. I couldn’t believe my luck. A hat trick of teachers went in. One, two, three. First Miss Hardman went in and came out with dirty hands. I ducked round a corner but needn’t have worried as she seemed preoccupied and in a rush and hadn’t noticed that her hands had turned deep blue.

  “What are you doing here, Jones?” Mr Beecham asked creeping up behind me and causing me to jump.

  “Oh nothing…”

  “On your way then, on your way…”

  He went into the cloakroom and came out two minutes later with normal-coloured hands. Hhmf, I thought. He doesn’t wash his hands. Yuk.

  Next was Mrs McPhiblin. She came from the direction of the chemistry labs and spent a good five minutes in the cloakroom. Result! I thought when she came out with dark blue blotches all over her cheeks.

  “And what pray is so amusing Miss Jones?” she said when she saw me peeking out from behind the lockers with a big grin on my face.

  “Oh nothing,” I said. “Just…”

  A couple of Year Seven’s went past and stared at Mrs McPhilbin’s face then burst out laughing. She was beginning to get worried.

  “What is it? Have I got something on my face?”

  “Um. Only a nose like the rest of us,” I replied.

  At that moment, Mr Beecham came out of the staff room. “Good heavens, Madeleine,” he said when he saw Mrs McPhilbin. “Your face! Your face!”

  He ushered her into the staff room from where an anguished cry arose a few moments later. My work is done! I thought as I took off down the corridor. They must have a mirror in there.

  Mr Beecham came hurtling after me not long afterwards. “Danu. Danu. Was that something to do with you?” he asked.

  I wasn’t going to deny it as it was all part of my plan to be as annoying as possible. “Yes. It was a special soap from the Black Sea. Good huh?”

  “Get to your lesson and see the Head at lunch time,” he said.

  “Yes, sir,” I said. “Thank you, sir.”

  He looked at me as if I was mad but I smiled back. Everything was working out brilliantly.

  On the way to Maths, I took a quick detour to the swimming area. Oh bat poo, I thought when I saw that there were a number of people in there using the pool. At the far end in the little office, I caught sight of Mr Doherty, the swimming instructor, reading a paper. I ran over.

  “Fire drill sir,” I said breathlessly. “Headmistress sent me over to ask you to get everyone out in the next five minutes.”

  “But there was no bell,” said Mr Doherty. “We’d have heard it.”

  “There was everywhere else sir. That’s why I was sent to get you. It’s clearly not working over here but Mrs Richards says for you to get everyone out even if they’re still in their swimming things and that she’ll send someone afterwards to look at why the bell isn’t working here.”

  Mr Doherty sighed heavily. “Nuisance, nuisance.” He stepped outside his office and blew loudly on his whistle. “Right everyone. Out of the pool and into the playground. Fire drill.”

  A loud moan came from the swimmers but they did what they were told and begrudgingly got out of the pool, grabbed their towels and headed out in the direction of the playground.

  Five minutes later, the pool area was empty. I reached into my rucksack and pulled out a bottle of superdye. Lovely, I thought as I poured the purpley-brown liquid into the pool. It began to work immediately, slowly seeping into the water and turning it a lovely bright red that began to spread all the way from the shallow to the deep end. If my old mates could see me now, they’d die, I thought because at my other school they used to tease me and call me Miss Goody Two Shoes. Now here I was being as bad as bad could be. And I had to admit, I was enjoying every minute of it.

  The next lesson was Maths and I’d already been in and done my preparations when the others were lining up for the nit nurse. I’d taped the sound part of my remote-control fart machine under Mr Nash’s chair.

  I took my place with everyone else and the lesson soon got underway. As soon as Mr Nash sat down on his chair, I pressed the remote control from under my desk and a loud thhhhhwwppppp noise erupted from the front of the class.

  Mr Nash looked around but of course, there was no-one behind his chair or anywhere near it. I pressed the button again. Another thwpppppp blasted from his chair and the class started laughing as Mr Nash stood up to try and see where the noise was coming from.

  I repeatedly pressed the remote control from under my desk. Thwwwp. Thwwwp. Thwwwp. By now, everyone in the class was laughing their heads off. It was funny too because, try as he might, Mr Nash couldn’t work out where the sound was coming from as there was no whoopee cushion or anything he could actually see.

  He stood at the front of the class and glared at us. “One of you horrible lot is responsible for this. Now are you going to own up or do I give all of you detention?”

  In way of a reply, I pressed the remote one more time. Thwwpppp. Everyone cracked up again.

  Mr Nash continued to glare at us so I put my hand up.

  “It was me, sir.” And I demonstrated how it worked. “Brilliant, isn’t it? The man in the shop said it works as far as fifty feet away so we could even use it on someone in another class.”

  Mr Nash sighed. “Harvey Jones. I might have known. Off with you now before I strangle you. I don’t want you in my sight another moment. Go and see Mrs Richards right now.”

  I saluted him. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Although I already have an appointment to see her at lunch time, I’m sure she won’t mind me dropping in earlier as well.” I went to the classroom door then turned back. “Maybe I should take the machine with me so that she can see how it works?”

  The idea of this clearly appealed to most of the class and a few nodded but Mr Nash’s expression let me know that he didn’t agree so I shrugged.

  “No? Okay then, later,” I said and gave the class a little wave over my shoulder as I left.

  What a great morning, I thought as I sauntered down the corridor waving through the glass partitions at anyone who could see me. I could get to like being bad.

  Mrs Richards was furious. I suppose it didn’t help that I gave her my exploding pen when she couldn’t find her own pen to take notes.

  “The swimming pool. The soap. The…” She couldn’t bring herself to say fart machine, “the… rude noise machine, the pen. What next Danu?”

  “Not sure,” I said as I crossed my legs and looked thoughtful. “I’ve got itching powder, fake dog poo, I thought I might put that in a pan of the school dinners… um… a hand buzzer. Superglue. Fake blood capsules… so loads of stuff really. What do you think?”

  Mrs Richards took a few deep breaths and regarded me calmly for a few moments. I almost lost my nerve because like Nit Nurse, she can do an impressive scary look, but suddenly her expression softened.

  “I’m not a fool, Danu,” she said gently. “And neither are you. Nor are you a pupil known for their bad behaviour at least not until you came here. So. I take it that these activities of yours are to provoke some sort of reaction. Am I right?”

&
nbsp; I nodded. “Maybe.”

  “And what reaction would that be exactly?”

  “I think you ought to give me the worst punishment there is. I think I ought to be expelled.”

  Mrs Richards pushed the palms of her hands together and studied me over them. “Oh you do, do you?”

  I nodded. “Most definitely. My behaviour has been unacceptable. Totally out of order.”

  “Unacceptable? Hhmmm. Out of order? And if I say no?”

  “I’ve still got my superglue, stink bombs…”

  Mrs Richards sat and stared at me for a good few minutes before she spoke. “Are you threatening me, Danu?” she finally asked.

  By this point, I really was starting to feel nervous. “No. Yes. I mean… I just think you should expel me.”

  “I think we both know that is not an option Danu. I spoke to your father before you started here. Where do you think that you would go?”

  “Back to my old school.”

  Mrs Richards shook her head. “Danu, I’m sorry that your life has been disrupted. I know it can’t have been easy but this mad behaviour of yours has to stop right now. Do you hear me? I’m not going to expel you. No. I’m not. But I will write to your father and let him know what’s been going on. And I will see your aunt to discuss your attitude. In the meantime, you will see the school counsellor. Understood? In this school, I set the agenda, not the pupils and we don’t give in to demands like yours. So you will not be getting your way. Understood?”

  “Mfff,” I muttered. “Understood.”

  I felt totally deflated. Angry that my plan hadn’t worked. Frustrated that I was still going to be stuck here. And sad because it meant that I was destined to carry on living in my aunt’s boring horrible flat.

  When I got back out onto the corridor, my phone began to play its trumpet fanfare. I answered it as fast as I could as I didn’t want to get called back into Mrs Richard’s office. The screen told me that there was a text waiting for me so I opened up the message box and read:

  “Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

  (by Reinhold Niebuhr)