Josh stares at him, frustrated, then he glances over his shoulder at his mates.
Bollocks to this. ‘Just point me in the direction of the bus stop,’ I snap.
‘Are you sure?’ he asks, looking guilty.
‘Yep. I’ll be fine.’
Of course, I realise as soon as I board the bus that I haven’t got a clue how to find my way home from Crafers. I think it was a long bendy road . . . I should have borrowed Josh’s phone again to call Mum. I rang her a few hours ago to let her know what I was up to. Maybe I should find a payphone. But when I step off the bus, there she is waiting.
‘How did you know I’d be here?’
‘Josh called Michael.’ She leads me to her car. ‘What on earth that boy is doing letting you catch a bus on your own at this hour . . . Michael had a few strong words to say to him,’ Mum says, climbing into the car and slamming the door behind her.
My insides burn with shame. I hate the thought of Josh getting into trouble because of me. Although Lou will be making him feel better right about now . . .
‘You’re alive then,’ Ben remarks when I turn up to work on Monday morning.
‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘I hope you caught the bus home on Saturday night.’
‘I did actually.’ I don’t want to tell him what happened. ‘Why?’
‘Josh usually drives when he’s had a few.’
‘Oh, right. Pass me the broom, would you?’
I was appalled when I woke up yesterday morning to see Josh’s car parked in the driveway.
‘Did you drive home?’ I asked him. I’d assumed he’d be catching the bus himself.
‘Yeah,’ he replied defensively.
‘When you werepissed?’
‘I didn’t have that much to drink.’
‘You bloody did!’
‘What are you – my mother?’
At that point I remembered that his mother was dead so decided to shut up about it, but he’d continued to justify himself. ‘I drank a few beers, but it was over several hours,andI ate loads. I felt fine.’
I shook my head in disgust.
‘Don’t tell Dad,’ he urged.
So here I am on Monday morning getting the third degree from Ben.
‘That bloke is a menace behind the wheel,’ he mutters, as he passes me the broom. We’re mucking out the koala enclosures. ‘Are we paying you for this yet?’
‘I don’t know,’ I reply. ‘I think Michael is speaking to Trudy today.’ A little flutter of nerves passes through me. Isowant a job here.
Good news comes at lunchtime, but my enthusiasm takes a nosedive when Michael presents me with my uniform.
‘Did Trudy say yes?’ I squeal, closely followed by, ‘Do I really have to wear the shorts?’
‘What’s wrong with them?’ Ben enquires, ploughing into his homemade cheese sandwich.
