Ging Gang Goo Read online

  I actually kind of hated myself, for the first time.

  * * *

  I must’ve drifted off eventually, because I wasn’t available to prevent what happened after that. The next thing I knew, Devon was shaking me awake with cold, clammy hands, the tips of her braids dripping water onto my face. Quickly I realised that this was the most redundant thing to be grouchy about, because my own hair was steeped against a sodden pillow. I hadn’t got that wet on my travels up and downfield. I was lying at an angle, as if part of the world beneath us had just decided to break away.

  “What…? What time is it…?” I managed, still sleep-stupid.

  “Who cares what time it is?!” Devon shrieked. “We’re half in the river! We could have drowned! We have to get out before we start floating away!”

  I blinked at Dev, who was having hysterics. I knew that a toddler could drown in a few inches of water – Mum despite all her ditziness had never let that get past me, even the first time around when Zak was born – but Rachel had been able to stand knee-deep in the mud of that same river, and besides, surely the cumulative weight of two lumpy girls and one particularly heavy one would be able to keep us on the bank. Looking back on it, I can’t believe that I’d chosen that moment not to be neurotic, but at the time it probably did me more good than harm.

  Dani sat across from us, awake but still huddled in her sleeping bag, hugging her cuddle pillow. It was then that I thought to peel the door flap back and look for myself. Either Devon had opened it, or it had come away by itself, because I had been careful to make sure it was buttoned due to the rain. The opening now faced downriver. Dani’s third of the tent was still on the bank, but suddenly what Devon was saying made sense. We were lucky that our heads hadn’t gone underwater.

  “But… how do we get out?” I asked. “I mean, do we just get out, or…?”

  “I’ll go last,” said Dani. “We don’t want you two floating away; you have boyfriends to live for.”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend,” I giggled, nervously.

  “Me neither!” protested Devon.

  “OK, suit yourselves. I’m the fattie, so it makes sense.”

  Blimey. Me and Dev fell to stupid silence, instead of doing anything useful.

  “I’m a good swimmer!” Dani went on. “Get out!”

  Devon stuck a hand out into the water. “It’s moving pretty fast. What if I try to get to the bank and run for help?”

  I couldn’t think properly. It all seemed a bit too real. The Riverbend song from Pocahontas swirled around my head until I was forced to wonder if there were any waterfalls nearby.

  Devon shrugged and hauled herself out through the opening, churning more water inside. I could see that she aimed to land on her knees, but her head went under. A moment later, she stood uneasily, arms stretched out uselessly for balance. “It’s deeper than I thought!” she shouted. “It’s burst its banks, so no wonder!”

  “Should I join you?”

  “Best not yet. I’ll try to- Fuuu-!!”

  “Devon?!” I screamed. “DEVON?!?!”

  “I’ve got her!” someone yelled.

  It didn’t sound like Mr Ball, nor Mr Wordsworth. I couldn’t place the voice at all.

  “Come on, Harley! Dani?!”

  I poked my head out, and the tent slipped further with the change of weight. My face dipped underwater. I tried standing up, half in and half out of the tent, and meerkatted around until I could make out who was on the riverside. Devon stood sopping wet beside two dishevelled-looking boys lying on the grass. One strawberry blonde and stocky at the front, and one dark haired and skinny anchoring him with arms around his waist. The boy at the front waved urgently to me.

  “Harley!!”

  With all of my trust in him, I waddled into the river. Devon had been right; the current was fast. Not super-speed, but enough to knock someone of even Zak’s build right over. I’d never been so glad to be bottom-heavy. Forward I waded, towards the open arms that stretched over the mud and into the water.

  Andy grabbed both of my hands and pulled me up over the moussey bank. A thick slime of muck attached itself to my front, and Devon had one to match.

  “Er, Dani?!” I urged him, scrambling upright on the grass and clutching Dev with terror.

  “I’m working on it!” he snapped, defensively. “Dani?! DANI, COME OUT OF THE TENT!!”

  There was a monster splash. The tent peeled away from the grass once and for all, but that didn’t matter. It had happened because Dani was fearlessly barrelling towards the bank in breaststroke. She hauled herself to standing with no input from Andy. I was SO sorry for laughing inside my head every time I watched her climb out of the school pool.

  “Uh, Charlie, you can stop kissing my arse now,” chuckled Andy, who was trying to stand up.

  Instead of pouting at the joke, my twin brother leapt to his feet and ran to join the hug. “Omigod, you guys! I thought you were going to DIE!!”

  Devon broke away from me and grabbed him tight. I averted my eyes, instead looking to Dani and Andy. This would be the moment when what turned out to be the two most useful members of our group got together, all romantic-like.

  But it wasn’t. Dani patted him on the back for his efforts, and in unison they slopped towards us across the grass.

  “WHAT’S ALL THE SHOUTING ABOUT?!?!” hollered Ballsy from the doorway of the male staff cabin.

  There was the expected kerfuffle of people jolted awake by his own volume. Heads stuck out of tents, but no one seemed able to locate a source of shouting other than Mr Ball. There was nothing else for it; we had to come forward and explain what had happened. We were soaking wet and freezing, and even Andy and Charlie were slicked with mud and grass.

  “Storage hut,” said Dani, whose breath had finally caught up with her.

  “Plan,” managed Devon, equally winded.

  Mr Ball, in his ultimate ignorance, had gone back inside by the time the five of us staggered into what would’ve been his line of sight. Some heads were still poking out, probably preoccupied with whether there was a bear or a werewolf on the loose.

  “What happened to you?” asked a girl who I think was Carrie.

  “Jesus!” shouted someone who I think was Krystal.

  “Our tent was flooded,” said Devon, as if it was the most common complication in the world.

  There were a couple of “Oh”s, and I was forced to accept that the goings-on were never going to sound as stupendous to somebody who wasn’t involved. It probably came off as benign as one of Charlie’s natural disasters. Speaking of which…

  “So how come you guys were even awake?” I asked, as we reached the dim glow of the row of huts. “When did you know?”

  Andy opened his mouth to speak, but Charlie thumped him hard on the arm.

  “Well, I woke up to pee and when I came out of the toilet facing downfield, I noticed that your tent wasn’t where it was supposed to be, and then I saw that the river had run over and I got Charlie. We thought the worst, because you might’ve been asleep or drowned already, so we ran to check, and I probably should’ve gone for help, but I wasn’t thinking.”

  “More like you just wanted to be a hero,” Dani giggled.

  “No, honest!” he insisted.

  “Shall I get Windy?” asked Dev.

  “No!” said me and Dani in unison.

  “Rachel won’t mind if we just creak in there and borrow her clothes,” I reasoned.

  “It’s not like we’ll be sleeping after that,” Dani added.

  Devon nodded and made for the storage hut.

  “So I guess that’s goodnight, then,” said Andy, with disappointment.

  “Uh, yeah…” I tried to give him a grateful smile, but it must’ve looked more like a grimace. “Thanks, though. I wouldn’t have fancied my chances at climbing out without your help.”

  “It’s cool,” he grunted, and turned back towards the tents.

  “Thanks,” said Dani.

  “Yeah,
thanks,” said Dev.

  “You’re welcome,” said Charlie, who was looking longingly at the hut.

  “Oh no you don’t,” I snickered, grabbing his shoulders and manually turning him to face the way Andy was already mooching.

  “Night then,” he yawned, and followed after his friend.

  Devon clicked open the hut door, and the remaining two of us followed her inside. It was quite a bit warmer being out of the wind, but there was no way we could relax in our muddy clothes. I located Rachel’s bag and pulled out three T-shirts, two pairs of shorts and a pair of stretchy elasticated jogger-jeans.

  Wordlessly, Dani changed into the jeans and a T-shirt, and I followed suit. Devon rummaged as quietly as she could, and hissed excitedly, “Yesss! The tampon fairy has been!”, causing me and Danielle to crack up, and Rachel to wake up.

  “What’re you doing in here?” she asked gruffly, morning person enough to have focussed immediately on our presence. “In my clothes?”

  “The tent flooded,” I explained, giving up on getting my (borrowed) shorts buttoned.

  “Never mind that; what happened to my sweets?”

  “I didn’t get them.”

  “Then where’s my tenner?”

  “I don’t have that either,” I said, sheepishly. I’d been about to mention the gift shop money I had lost in the floataway tent, when I started to wonder what I’d done with it. I didn’t think I’d had it when I got back earlier. Had Jordy swiped it while we were being all sentimental?

  “Jesus, Rach,” said Devon, sharply. “The whole tent is long-gone downriver with all of our stuff in it, and you want to know where your tenner is?”

  “Yeah,” Dani backed her up. “You got a real Gucci handbag for your birthday, and you’re worried about ten quid’s holiday money?”

  “My orange stretchy sunflower shirt!” I realised. “I’ve had that since I was Kit’s age!”

  “My cuddle pillow…” sighed Dani.

  “My sun!” cried Dev.

  “Oh, I threw that in a bush,” said Rach, flippantly. “Look for it while I’m getting the Olympic Rings in the morning.”

  “I don’t know whether to hug you or kill you!” said Devon, airily. “Off to the loo!”

  No sooner had she slammed out of the hut, Dani snickered, “I bet she’s looking for her sun, really.”

  I laughed, and Rachel rolled over unsympathetically to catch the rest of her shuteye.

  Typico, typico…

  #9 Foxes, Eggs & Beans On Toast

  “Dev…”

  “Yeah…?”

  “What’s the deal with you and Charlie, really?” I yawned, actually rather tired but with nowhere halfway comfortable to sleep. “Not in graphic detail, please.”

  “I dun-no…” she replied, coyly.

  “Are you going out?” asked Danielle.

  “Yes and no.”

  “Oh come on,” I tutted, prodding her with the metre stick I’d been balancing between my palms on the splintery floor for entertainment. “Out with it!”

  “Really yes and no. We are ‘going out’, but we haven’t actually been out anywhere since we decided that.”

  Then it couldn’t have been very long ago. Devon and Charlie had been shopping together on Saturday, and if that didn’t count as a date in today’s culture, I didn’t know what did.

  “How long?” giggled Dani.

  Devon shrugged. “Yesterday.”

  “Nonsense!” I spluttered. “You didn’t even say goodnight to him.”

  “I did! I said ‘nighty-noo’!”

  Oh yeah, she had.

  “So how did it happen?” asked Dani, suddenly wide awake. “Did you ask him or did he ask you?”

  “I don’t know… he came in the tent with me when I was getting my suncream – I know, worst excuse ever on a day like that – and I asked him to rub it into my neck for me-”

  “Whoa, slow down!” I had to add, being his sister and all.

  “-and he asked me if that meant we were going out or something. I don’t know why!”

  “So you said…?” (Dani.)

  “I don’t know; you tell me.”

  What?

  “And he said…?” (Dani again.)

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

  I groaned. “But you are going out?”

  “You’re the one who’s been saying this for what, six months?” Devon cackled. I could tell that she was blushing, even though it didn’t show up well on her tan skin in the dark. “We sort of always were a thing.”

  “Ooo-ooh!” said Rachel, sarcastically, awake again. “Someone limp me to the toilet?”

  “Not if you’re taking that attitude with me,” said Devon, making Dani burst out laughing all over again.

  “Only if I can sleep in your bed after,” I bartered, knowing the pain of a sprained ankle. “Without you in it.”

  “Fine!” she agreed.

  But I didn’t get my sleep. No sooner had we reached the cabin again, the group on cook duty rumbled to life. Within fifteen minutes, room service had arrived, along with two frowning teachers.

  Windy opened her mouth to begin a tirade. I should’ve known she wouldn’t wait to hear about how innocent we were in all this. (If you don’t count our collective idiocy in pitching a tent right at the lip of an unknown river.)

  “Oh, let them eat first, won’t you?” yawned Mr Wordsworth, obviously yet to brew his patience-inducing first coffee of the day. “It’s pretty obvious what happened if you look downfield, and Marc has some explaining of his own to do.”

  The door closed again and we all cracked up.

  “Just foxes my trench foot!” I heard him mutter.

  Before I’d had time to scoop up my first mouthful from the absolute mound of egg and beans on toast, the boys were back, dressed far more comfortably than we were.

  “Morning,” said Andy, looking mainly at me.

  Charlie smiled awkwardly.

  “Hey, get ’ere, they know!” announced Devon, patting the floor between us.

  He sat down, and Devon kissed him on the cheek and offered a fork of sausage. “What?” she asked, the face of virtue. “You know I don’t eat meat!”

  “Ease up,” chortled Andy, helping himself to a slice of my toast. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “No,” I replied. I’d never have finished the entire plate.

  “Ooo-ooh! No ‘mind your grubby mitts’?” teased Charlie. “She’s warming to you, Andy.”

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?” snapped Rachel, for me.

  “Nothing,” said Andy, dubiously.

  “Yeah, what is it supposed to mean?” asked Dev, scooping my brother’s greasy hair back with one hand and looking him boggily straight in the eye like a naughty kitten held by the scruff of the neck.

  “She’s had ten years to warm to you,” giggled Dani, Andy’s way.

  “Eh, I’m about luke at the minute,” my mouth said by itself. “Ask me eight months ago, and you’d have been in chilly waters.”

  “Oh, don’t act so hard to get!” said Rachel. “It’s not like you’ve ever had a boyfriend.”

  “Hang on a second,” mused Dani. “Neither have you!”

  Thinking about it, that was plausible. For all the pressure Chan and Keisha put on Dani, Rindi and Fern, Rachel had somehow managed to exist on the periphery of the group without scrutiny.

  The conversation turned, and I ate my egg and beans and toast. Devon and Charlie cuddled, and Rachel climbed off her cotton saddle and joined in the laughter. After a while, Windy and Balls showed up to get our side of the story, and presumably the river’s counter-argument remained forever unheard. Windy hurtled off to Management to get us blow-up beds and sleeping bags and all-essential knickers, and Balls went with two of the activity instructors to fish the tent and rucksacks out of the river, so desperate were they for us not to press charges for reckless endangerment.

  We batted around the idea of getting them done anyway. Charlie in particular
believed that Mr Ball should have been long out of the job, and only Rachel had any remote fondness of Miss Winterbottom. But getting them in trouble would naturally mean getting Mr Wordsworth in trouble, and none of us wanted that one bit.

  I got my orange stretchy T-shirt back, and Dani got her pillow, as much as the latter would probably reek of riverbed for as long as it lasted, and we decided to leave it as a funny story to tell the kids someday. (Because Devon and Charlie were already talking about kids.) Kayaking was cancelled, so we hung out with Rachel all morning, and then in the afternoon there was optional abseiling again, which me and Dani wanted no part of after last night. Charlie and Dev went along anyway, as a sort of mini-date (what joy for the onlookers), and Andy because he genuinely wanted a go. All in all, it turned out to be a very chilled-out day.

  #10 The Dani McDimon Movie

  “Why do they get to sleep in the cabin?” Asta huffed.

  “Yeah! What makes them so special?!” added Courtney.

  “Uh, try because they nearly died?” catted Rachel, who was once again decidedly on our side.

  “Ballsy doesn’t want this going to court,” added Devon.

  “Huh. I’d’ve asked for more than just a cabin if it were me,” muttered Asta, stalking off.

  “Why did she even come?” snickered Rach.

  “She has to do everything,” I explained, remembering how Asta had outlasted me at Drama Club because-it’s-my-dad’s-tax-money, while I flopped in front of the telly after school because-it’s-my-Tuesday-and-I’ll-do-what-I-want.

  “God, she’s like Chantalle if you gave her them hormones they use to fatten up pigs,” said Dani. “Not her looks; her attitude. Spoilt little brat acts battery spoon-fed.”

  “You might be onto something there,” Devon agreed. “She’s so obsessed with what her dad thinks and what he’s going to do. I bet she came on this trip to get a break.”

  There was that gross feeling again, about dads and pressure. It was always a good laugh until somebody brought up domestic abuse. Andy noticed the look on my face and slipped his arm slightly around me on the floor, without touching. It was actually sort-of nice.

  “What?” asked Devon, surprisingly unperceptive in her lovely-dovey mood. “I did!”

  I supposed that was where her comment came from. Living with Eileen wasn’t exactly all pearls and rose-gardens.

  “So what’s everyone doing for holidays this year?” asked Rachel, eager to change the subject to something she could be superior at. “My parents are taking me to Corfu!”