Cathy Hopkins - [Mates, Dates 07] Read Online Free

these phases - spare money, no spare money. Dad says working in the
media is often feast or famine. When I’m an actress, I’m going to make sure I’m
mega rich all the time by getting into every play and film going, as I don’t
reckon it’s much fun having no dosh. I can see what a strain the ups and downs
of finances put on Mum and Dad.
    ‘Anything you want to
ask?’ asked Mum.
    Tony shook his head.
    ‘Nah,’ I said. I
planned to go upstairs and learn my audition part for the end of term play at
school. We’re doing
West Side Story
this year and I want to go for the
part of Maria.
    ‘Good,’ said Mum. ‘So
you both understand? No extras for a while?’
    I nodded. It’s funny,
I quite like the fact that Mum treats Tony and me like adults and keeps us
informed as to what’s going on, as I know some people’s parents don’t. It makes
me feel accepted as a grown-up. On the other hand, I don’t want to know,
because I reckon all that stuff is their job, being parents, paying the bills
and all that and I want to just be a teenager and not think about any of it.
Mum says she tells us about the finances so that we don’t think that ‘Money
grows on trees’. As if.
    ‘Er, Matt, wasn’t
there something you wanted to say?’ Mum called into the hall, then turned back
to us. ‘And your dad had something he wanted to say as well.’
    Ah. Now the sex talk,
I thought, sneaking a glance at Tony. He raised an eyebrow as if to say, this
should be interesting.
    There was a cough from
somewhere in the vicinity of the sitting room, then we heard Dad’s footsteps
approaching.
    He shuffled about on
his feet for a few moments. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Ahem. Yes. Er… I… I wanted to talk to you about
contraception.’
    ‘What!
Again?’
Tony
groaned.
    I rolled my eyes.
‘Mum, Dad. We do all this stuff at school.’
    ‘Yeah,’ said Tony as
he leaned back on his stool and put his hands behind his head in that arrogant
‘You can’t teach me anything’ way of his. ‘But it’s cool, if you want to talk
about it. So… Dad. Contraception? What would you like to know?’
    I creased up laughing.
So did Mum and Dad. Phew. War zone safe for a few more days.
     
    Pragmatic
: dealing with matters according to their
practical significance or immediate importance.
     
     
     
     
    C h a p t e r   3
    Count-down
to Clamming up
     
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    Fifty-eight,
fifty-nine, sixty. Four minutes left. One, two, three… I counted as I lay on
the couch at the dentist’s the next day after school. About four more minutes
and I should be out of here, I thought, then it’s all over for another six
months. Dental surgeries are
not
my favourite places: the persistent
buzz of drilling behind closed doors, the smell of polished wood mixed with
antiseptic mouthwash, the anguished screams of despair as patients beg for
mercy… OK, maybe the screams are in my head, but it doesn’t help that my
dentist, Mr Saltman, has a poster of Steve Martin in the film,
Little Shop
of Horrors
, on his ceiling. Everyone that lies back on the chair has no
choice but to see the poster as Mr Saltman works on their teeth. In the film,
Steve Martin plays Orin Scrivello, the demented and sadistic dentist. Hhmm?
What is Mr Saltman trying to say to his patients, I wondered.
    ‘Scange choich of poh
- er,’ I mumbled as I pointed up at the ceiling. I was trying to say, strange
choice of poster, but it was somewhat difficult with Mr Saltman’s thumb and
index finger in my cheek and my top lip stretched almost up to my ear (not my
most alluring look). As he tapped my teeth with some cold metal implement, I
closed my eyes and tried to think of nice relaxing things. Izzie had briefed me
as we were leaving school. ‘Think soothing thoughts,’ she’d said, ‘positive
visualisations to distract you from the pain.’ She’d suggested waterfalls,
flowers, dolphins. Sadly dolphins don’t do it for me, nor waterfalls, Iw-ring.
I decided to try and think