Poppy's Garden Page 3

  The library! She’d go and hide in there. Poppy hurried in and grabbed a book off the first shelf she passed. A nice big one. She could hide behind that, and even if Izzy and the others came looking for her, they wouldn’t know she was there.

  Unfortunately, the book was extremely boring. All about aeroplanes, with lots of diagrams of how jets worked and things like that. It didn’t distract Poppy from how miserable she was at all, but she couldn’t seem to find the energy to get up and change it for something she’d like. She just stared at it grimly, and tried not to remember the triumphant look on Ali’s face. She knew that Izzy and Maya and Emily would probably be really sweet about it if she went back, even though she’d snapped at them and run off. But they’d think she was so silly. (Because she was.) She couldn’t bear the thought of them being all sympathetic and nice.

  Eventually, after what felt like hours of staring at a jet fighter, the bell rang and Poppy reluctantly uncurled herself from her position on the window sill. She stuffed the book back on to the shelf and hurried to her classroom, her head down, trying to hide behind her hair like Izzy did. She wasn’t used to trying to hide from people. Ali and her gang were nasty to her sometimes, but just the same way they were mean to everybody. (Except Maya, now that they’d discovered her mum was a celebrity.) Usually Poppy could just shrug it off, or give as good as she got.

  She glanced sideways at Izzy and Emily and Maya as she got to their table, hoping they weren’t annoyed with her. She smiled faintly at Izzy, thinking she ought to say sorry for running off. But Izzy gave her a weird look and then stared at the whiteboard, as though she didn’t want to talk to her. Poppy stood there for a second with her mouth half open, ready to say she hadn’t meant to be rude.

  There was no one to say it to. Emily and Maya were staring at the whiteboard too, and Poppy shut her mouth quickly and slid into her seat, feeling about ten times worse, even though five minutes before she wouldn’t have thought that was possible.

  At lunchtime, all of them went to the dining hall together as usual. Izzy asked Poppy what she’d got in her sandwiches – she was known for having weird things sometimes – and Poppy said only cheese, but she did have lavender-flavoured biscuits that she and her mum had made, which Izzy cheerfully told her sounded disgusting. So that was pretty normal. But no one mentioned garden designs at all, and there kept being odd little silences. Once she saw Emily giving Izzy a funny look when they thought she was busy finding something in her lunchbox.

  Maybe they were all annoyed with her and they were pretending not to be, Poppy thought unhappily. Maybe they hated her for cheating. She hardly ate any of her lunch – even the lavender biscuits, which she usually loved, tasted all dry and dusty. She pushed them back into her lunchbox, crumbled into little bits.

  “Umm, Poppy?” Izzy was staring at her.

  Poppy blinked. “Yes?” She hadn’t been listening. It looked like Izzy had been talking to her, and she’d missed whatever she said. “Sorry, I was thinking…”

  “We’re— Er—” Izzy swallowed and looked nervous.

  “Just going to do something for Miss Grace,” Emily put in firmly. “See you after lunch.”

  Poppy gaped after the three of them as they hurried away. She definitely had upset them then. It was obvious that Emily had made up the thing about Miss Grace. Poppy hadn’t been paying much attention that morning, but she’d have seen it if their classroom assistant had asked the others to do something. She’d have asked all four of them, anyway. She knew they always hung around together.

  Until now, clearly. Poppy swallowed, and pretended to eat a bit of biscuit, so no one would think she’d been abandoned. Then slowly, trying to look unconcerned, she got up, and put her lunchbox away in the class storage box. What was she going to do now? If she went out to the playground, she couldn’t just wander about on her own. But no one was likely to invite her to join in a game. And to be honest, she didn’t feel like it anyway. She’d have to go back to the library, she decided miserably. Then she gave a little sniff of laughter. She could go and read the book on aeroplanes again.

  Emily and Maya and even Izzy were still acting weird when Poppy crept back into the classroom after lunch. Their school librarian, Mrs Peters, was really nice when you wanted to ask her something about books, but she was a monster if people were noisy. She only worked part-time, but on days when she was in the library, everyone had to be silent or she’d just throw people out. And she wouldn’t let them borrow the book they’d been looking at either. After a whole break and lunchtime being silent, Poppy felt weird, as though she couldn’t have spoken louder than a whisper if she’d wanted to. And she didn’t, much. Especially when Izzy and the others kept giving each other conspiratorial looks, and smirking, and nudging each other.

  What she actually felt like was walking out of the classroom and going home. Except there wouldn’t be anyone there. Mum and Dad would both be at work, and Jake and Alex would be at school. She had to get all the way through afternoon school before she could go home and find the right essential oils for dealing with a really mean group of ex-friends who were laughing at her behind her back. She had a feeling she might have to make that one up for herself. It probably wasn’t going to be in the book.

  By the end of the afternoon, Poppy was feeling desperate. Izzy had tried to be nice to her a couple of times, but Poppy was already so confused and upset that she didn’t know what to say, and Izzy started frowning at her and looking just as confused as she was.

  What was going on?

  Maya and Emily had to rush off to catch their bus, but Izzy’s dad was picking her up so she hung around, trying to talk to Poppy while they put their things away.

  “Poppy, are you still upset about what Ali said?” Izzy crouched down and tried to peer up at her, as Poppy had her head ducked. “Honestly! She’s so horrible, you know that! You’re always telling me just to ignore her. Please don’t let her get to you.”

  It isn’t her! It’s all of you! Poppy wanted to wail, but she couldn’t face it. “I’ve got to go,” she muttered. “After-school club.” And she grabbed her bag, racing out into the corridor and making for the main hall, where after-school club was set up.

  Except she wasn’t going to after-school club, she decided as she got halfway down the corridor. She couldn’t stand all the lovely, fussy ladies who ran it right now. They wouldn’t let her get away with sitting in a corner being miserable, like she wanted to. They’d be trying to cheer her up. Telling her to come and join in with the others and play a game, or something.

  Poppy darted into the girls’ loos and took a deep, panicked breath. What would happen if she just didn’t turn up? Probably no one would notice for a while. Then they’d think she’d been away that day and no one had told them. That happened quite often; the after-school club staff were always complaining about it. Someone would go to the office eventually, and make sure. But she had a while before that happened.

  She turned back the way she’d come and headed out towards the school gate. She didn’t go to after-school club every day, so the staff who were seeing their classes off wouldn’t notice anything unusual. Mr Finlay was there, but he was “having a word” with Jensen’s dad about Jensen and Nick throwing wet paper towels at the ceiling in the girls’ loos, so she could just hurry past. As long as she looked like she was heading for her mum’s car, no one would say anything. Poppy pasted a smile on to her face, pretended to wave at someone and just walked down the street towards the shops, and no one stopped her.

  She’d never been in Millford on her own before. Her mum and dad weren’t really fussy and overprotective – they let her take Billy out for walks on her own, provided she took a mobile with her and she promised to be back by a certain time. But there was no way they’d let her go wandering around the town on her own. Mum had said once she was in Year Six they’d think about it. If she went with some of her friends, maybe.

  Poppy sniffed and stared miserably into the window of one of her fa
vourite shops, the health food shop that sold the essential oils she liked. She couldn’t really go in. She didn’t have any money to buy anything, for a start. And Fran, who ran the shop, would recognise her, and she’d know that Poppy wasn’t supposed to be wandering round town. Poppy wasn’t sure she could pull off pretending that her mum was just in the bookshop, or something. Besides, she didn’t like the idea of lying to Fran.

  “Poppy!”

  Poppy whirled round, her heart thumping anxiously. “Izzy!”

  Izzy was standing there with her dad. She looked worried, and her dad looked surprised, and a bit confused.

  “Why aren’t you in after-school club?” Izzy demanded. “Did your mum come and pick you up early? Did they call her because you were all upset? Poppy, please tell me what’s wrong.” She looked so worried that Poppy couldn’t help wondering if she’d made a mistake. If Izzy hadn’t been laughing at her behind her back earlier on. If she had been, wouldn’t she have understood why Poppy was upset? She wouldn’t be looking so confused now, would she?

  Izzy looked round, as though she was searching for something, and then she suddenly gasped. “Poppy, where’s your mum? She’s not here, is she? Did you just walk out of after-school club?”

  “Hang on,” Izzy’s dad said, frowning. “Poppy, sweetheart. Is that right? Does anyone know you’re here on your own?”

  Poppy shook her head slowly, and then gave a massive sniff and started to cry.

  Izzy’s dad looked a bit panicked, as though he wasn’t sure what to do with a crying person, and he patted her shoulder awkwardly. Izzy gave her a hug, and all of a sudden Poppy decided that she couldn’t possibly have meant to be mean to her all afternoon. It wasn’t the hug of a two-faced sort of person at all. And Izzy had never been like that anyway. She was incredibly honest. Absolutely the worst liar ever, and terrible at keeping secrets. Poppy gulped and sniffed again, suddenly feeling very tired. If only she’d got more sleep last night, all this might not have seemed so important, she realised. But it didn’t mean she could stop crying.

  Izzy’s dad was leading them into the nice little coffee shop where Mum took her for hot chocolate sometimes, and once he’d got them sat down he told Izzy to order them both a drink, and pulled his mobile out of his pocket.

  “Are you calling my mum?” Poppy said, although she wasn’t totally sure anyone understood her – it came out as gulps.

  “I have to call your mum, Poppy,” he told her gently. “I don’t know if the school will have told her yet – they might not have realised that you’ve gone. But if they have – well, if Izzy had disappeared, I know how worried I’d be.”

  “She’ll be so cross!” Poppy wailed, and Izzy hugged her again.

  “Dad will tell her there’s something wrong. He won’t let her be cross with you.”

  Izzy’s dad nodded grimly, as though he thought that might be difficult, and tapped at his phone, clearly finding Poppy’s mum’s number.

  Poppy could only hear his side of the phone call, but she could guess what her mum was saying. The school hadn’t called her yet, and she was worried, but not frantic.

  “Yes, she’s obviously upset about something but she’s fine. Not hurt or anything, are you, Poppy?”

  Poppy shook her head.

  “Are you still at work? Do you want me to take her home with us? I can do tea for them both if you like?”

  Izzy nodded eagerly, and Poppy felt slightly better. She had got things mixed up somehow, she must have done.

  “Here, talk to your mum for a minute, Poppy. She needs to know you’re OK.”

  Poppy nodded and took the phone.

  “Poppy, what’s happening? I can’t believe you walked out of school like that!”

  “I’m sorry,” Poppy whispered. “Stuff was going on…” She didn’t want to tell her mum that she’d thought Izzy was being mean to her. Especially now she was thinking she might have got it all wrong. And she really wanted to go back to Izzy’s house, and try and find out why they’d all been so odd that afternoon. “Ali told me my design for the school garden was all copied and I was a cheat,” she explained. It was totally true, even if it wasn’t why she’d actually sneaked out of school.

  “That girl!” her mum snarled. “Right. Well, I shall be ringing the school and telling them exactly what I think of them for letting you walk out, and asking for a meeting with Mrs Angel and Ali Morgan’s parents. And don’t you think you aren’t in trouble either, Poppy. Now, hand me back to Izzy’s dad.”

  Poppy sighed and passed the phone over. Maybe Mum would calm down…

  “Oh, you’ll let the school know? OK, good. Yeah, I wouldn’t want Mrs Angel thinking I’d kidnapped Poppy. I might not survive,” Izzy’s dad joked. “I’ll bring her back about six-thirty, OK?” He ended the call and sighed. “Your mum sounds like she wants to yell at somebody, Poppy. I wouldn’t want to be your school secretary right now. So…” He eyed her thoughtfully. “Exactly what was going on? What did Ali say that made you so upset? Izzy’s always telling me how brave you are, and how Ali doesn’t worry you at all. She said she wishes she could be that cool about it!”

  “Dad…” Izzy moaned.

  Poppy nodded. “It wasn’t actually Ali.”

  “Who was it then?” Izzy demanded. “Was someone mean to you at lunch or something?”

  Poppy stared at her tiredly, and sighed. “Yes. You.”

  Izzy stared at her, her pale-blue eyes going rounder and rounder, and red spots growing in the middle of her cheeks. “I wasn’t!” she said, shaking her head in bewilderment.

  Poppy sighed. “I don’t think you meant to be. Or I don’t think so now, anyway. But you all went off somewhere without me at lunch, and then this afternoon you kept looking at each other and – and sort of smirking…” She glanced up miserably at Izzy.

  Izzy went darkly red all over. “Oh. Yes. I suppose we did. But we weren’t trying to be mean at all.”

  “So what were you doing?” her dad demanded curiously.

  Izzy frowned and looked down at her school bag. “Promise you won’t be cross?” she asked Poppy.

  “It’s a bit late for that, Iz!” her dad muttered. “Just tell us.”

  Izzy reached into her bag and pulled out a crumpled, sticky-looking piece of paper.

  “Oh! You got it out of the bin!” Poppy took it, rather sadly. She was wondering now if she ought to have stood up for herself better. Maybe she shouldn’t have let Ali convince her that she was a cheat. But there was no way she could enter this now. It had Ribena all over it, she reckoned, and perhaps a bit of chocolate?

  “Is that your competition entry, Poppy?” Izzy’s dad asked, peering at it interestedly. “It looks very good.” He squinted at it sideways. “What’s under that splodge there?”

  “Scented plants. It was meant to be about all the different senses.” Poppy heaved a huge sigh, and nearly caused a tidal wave over the edge of her hot chocolate mug. “I wish I hadn’t thrown it away now. I mean, I did borrow ideas, but that isn’t really the same as copying, is it?”

  “Of course not!” Izzy’s dad chuckled. “All designers have to refer back to other famous gardens, Poppy. It’s what you do with the ideas that counts. So is this what you were doing at lunch, Iz? It can’t have taken you that long to get it out of the bin though.”

  Izzy shook her head and pulled out another piece of paper. She slid it across the table to Poppy, looking apologetic. “We thought you were wrong to throw it away, so I got it out of the bin and we were going to just enter it for you. But by then it was all mucked up. So we tried to redo it. It took ages. And it still isn’t as good as yours was.”

  “You did me another copy?” Poppy murmured, looking down at it.

  “Well, we tried, but none of us can draw like you, Poppy. It’s useless. And we couldn’t remember what was in some of the smudgy bits. We were thinking we might have to get together tomorrow again and sort it out.” She looked sideways at Poppy. “Are you cross? We just wanted to h
elp.”

  “I’m not cross. Emily wrote this, didn’t she?” Poppy asked, looking at one of the little descriptions. “She’s got the worst spelling ever.” She shook her head, grinning. The drawings weren’t nearly as good as hers, like Izzy said, but they’d obviously tried so hard to make it look like her design. It was the nicest thing they could possibly have done. “So this was why you were looking all weird. I thought you hated me because I was a cheat, like Ali said!”

  Izzy stared at her disgustedly. “You thought we’d believe that – that slug! Instead of you? Who do you think we are?”

  Poppy shrugged apologetically. “I did stay up a bit late finishing my design,” she admitted. “I was so tired… I suppose I was a bit silly – you know. A bit teary. I feel a lot better now though,” she added, taking a big gulp of chocolate.

  “Good.” Izzy’s dad was still studying the original design. “Finish up that hot chocolate, you two.”

  Izzy looked at him in surprise. “Why? We’ve only just got it.”

  “Because we need to go home and get Poppy some more paper. We’re not wasting this,” her dad said firmly. “Brilliant ideas. Very original, and I’ll tell Ali and her little rat gang that. We’re going home so you can do another copy. I’ll help. But only from a distance. I won’t put a finger near it, so no one can say we were cheating.”

  “I’m just not sure it’s exciting enough…” Poppy murmured thoughtfully. She and Izzy had eaten a super-fast tea of toasted sandwiches before clearing the table and covering it in paper and coloured pencils, and Izzy’s dad’s huge collection of garden design books. He had flicked through these, carefully pointing out to Poppy where various gardens were described as “inspired by” something.

  “Which is just a nice way of saying copied from. Well, no. Not exactly copied. You borrow a bit from their idea and twist it round and make it your own. Which is just what you did, Poppy, I promise.”