Strawberry Crush

Copyright

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books 2016

HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,

HarperCollins Publishers

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Copyright © Jean Ure 2016

Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2016

Illustrations © Shutterstock.com

Jean Ure asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780007553969

Ebook Edition © January 2016 ISBN: 9780007554027

Version: 2016-01-29

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Also by Jean Ure

About the Publisher

I was there the day it all started: the day Maya fell off her bike straight into the arms of Jake Harper.

Well, not actually straight into his arms. But practically right in front of him.

It was the start of the summer term and we were on our way back from school, cycling up Layhams Hill, two abreast cos there wasn’t that much traffic around. We were busy talking – as usual! – when Maya suddenly gave this great wobble, lurched into the kerb and slid with a startled squawk over the handlebars.

I have to admit it looked pretty dramatic, but I wasn’t particularly alarmed. Maya was always coming off her bike. Unlike me, who is quite chunky and solid, Maya is a tiny little creature, almost elfin, but she’s the one who is forever tripping over her own feet or shutting her fingers in the door. Still, we were both wearing helmets so I reckoned she couldn’t have done that much damage.

I skidded to a halt and turned back to look at her. “You OK?”

I was sure that she was. She’d already started to pick herself up, so obviously nothing was broken and I couldn’t see any blood. But then a car pulled in on the other side of the road, the driver’s door was flung open and Jake came rushing across.

“Do you need any help?”

Honestly, it was like some kind of magic spell. Some kind of automatic reaction. Before I knew it, Maya had sunk back on to the pavement and burst into heart-rending sobs. I felt so embarrassed! I mean, it was just so obvious.

“Are you OK?” Jake had squatted down beside her and put an arm round her shoulders. “That looked painful!”

Oh, please, I thought, don’t encourage her!

“Have you done any damage?”

Maya, weeping piteously, held out one of her hands. She’d grazed it on the pavement, but it was hardly gushing blood.

I shook my head. Un-be-liev-able! Shameless, in fact. Talk about a drama queen.

“Best have that looked at,” said Jake. “You could have got some dirt in it. Let’s get you into the car and I’ll give you a lift home.”

With the help of Jake’s supporting arm, Maya tottered feebly to her feet.

“Can you manage to walk?”

She sniffed, heroically. “I’ll try.”

“Well, take it slowly. Mattie, do you want to grab her bike?”

I thought, Oh, if I must.

“We can put yours in, too, if you like. I might as well give you both a lift. You’re just round the corner from each other, aren’t you?”

I was about to say, rather ungraciously, that I didn’t need a lift, we were only five minutes away, but then I thought, who in their right mind would turn down a ride in a car with the great Jake Harper? Just about the coolest boy in the school!

I wheeled both bikes across the road, pulling a face behind Maya’s back as I did so. She was really playing things for all they were worth!

“Easy does it,” said Jake, helping her into the car. Needless to say, she got the front seat. I had to sit crammed into the back, against the bikes, with my legs all curled up and handlebars digging into me.

“OK?” said Jake.

I said, “Fine!” I didn’t want him thinking I was as big a wimp as Maya. A little bit of discomfort was nothing to me.

“I’d better go in first,” I said, “and tell your mum.”

Maya’s mum tends to panic. Although she and my mum are twins they are so not identical. Mum is really down to earth and practical; she takes things in her stride. I think I am a bit like her. Auntie Megs, on the other hand, is more of a nervous type. I guess that’s where Maya gets it from. I knew if I didn’t go ahead and break the news, gently, Auntie Megs would immediately think Maya was at death’s door.

But then, omigod! As I uncurled my legs and clambered my way out of the car I saw that Jake had already gone round to the passenger side and was actually preparing to carry Maya up to the house. It was like something out of a cheesy romance movie. I do actually quite enjoy cheesy romance movies – sometimes – but this was just embarrassing! Maya was being poor little fragile me, and Jake was falling for it. Maybe it made him feel … I don’t know … manly. I know some boys like to feel that, just as some girls like to play helpless. I have too much pride! I’d have managed to stagger indoors without any help even if I’d had to hop on one leg. But that is just me.

“Let me go first!”

Rudely I pushed past them and raced up to the door. Auntie Megs must have been keeping watch – waiting, in her anxious way, for Maya to arrive home – because the door flew open even before I got there.

“Mattie!” shrieked Auntie Megs. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing; it’s nothing,” I said. “She fell off her bike, but she’s perfectly OK!”

Not that it looked like it, with Jake cradling her in his arms.

“Honestly,” I said, “she’s just grazed her hand. Nothing to worry about.”

But Auntie Megs worries about everything. She has this long list of rules that are designed to keep you safe. Rule No. 1, never go anywhere near a tree if you are out in a storm in case you get struck by lightning. Rule No. 2, never get into the first or the last carriage on a train in case the train gets hit by another train. Rule No. 3, never walk under a piece of scaffolding in case it collapses on top of you. The list is endless! So naturally, seeing a limp body being carried up the garden path she feared the worst. To be fair, I expect any mum would have. Even mine might have been a little bit alarmed. It was so over the top!

Maya was obviously basking in it, and I guess Jake was, too. He carried her through the house and set her down, very gently, on the sofa.

“There you go! No broken bones, but it was a nasty tumble.”

Nasty tumble? Whoever uses the word tumble? Unless they’re talking about a tumble dryer? Unless … maybe he had chosen the word specially, so as not to cause too much alarm. Maybe he’d thought if he said “a nasty fall” Auntie Meg would fly into one of her panics.

She was going to fly into a panic anyway. As soothingly as I could I said that Maya had just come off her bike. Like she hadn’t come off it a dozen times before.

“I knew this would happen!” cried Auntie Megs. “I’ve said all along, you shouldn’t be cycling.”

“We always wear our helmets,” I said.

“I don’t care, it’s still not safe! You could still get a concussion.”

I tried exchanging glances with Jake, but he was too busy concentrating on Maya and didn’t notice. I waited while Auntie Megs fussed about, checking for concussion by holding up a finger and telling Maya to follow it, then decided I’d had enough. I was used to Auntie Megs getting in a flap but I never thought I’d see Jake going all soft and drippy. Jake Harper was one of the coolest people on the planet! He was not only a prefect, he was also captain of the school football team.

But Auntie Megs does cleaning for his mum so probably, maybe, he felt duty-bound to show concern. Just not that much! I felt like screaming, “There’s nothing wrong with her!”

“I’ll go and get the bikes,” I said.

“Hang on!” Jake came after me. “I’ll give you a hand. Let me just take Maya’s in for her then I’ll run you home.”

Well! How could I say no? I am not someone that goes soft and drippy but there’s this girl that lives in my road, Linzi Baxter, that reckons all the boys fancy her. She’s in Year Eight along with me and Maya and is a really tiresome sort of person. With any luck she might be coming back from school in time to see me getting out of the car. And see who was driving it. That would give her something to think about! There aren’t many boys at our school get to drive their own cars. She’d certainly never gone out with one.

I suppose that is a bit shallow, really, but girls like Linzi, always so full of themselves, really do my head in.

“I’ll just go and tell Maya I’m off,” I said.

Jake came back in with me, wheeling the bike.

“Maya,” I said, “we’re going.”

“All right.”

She’d been sitting up but immediately flopped back down again, giving us this little trembly smile from out of her pile of cushions.

“See you tomorrow,” I said.

A sort of sigh escaped her. It was like “Mmmmmm …”

“I’m not having her back on that bike,” said Auntie Megs. “My nerves can’t stand it.”

“OK.” I shrugged. “We’ll take the bus.”

It isn’t any use trying to reason with Auntie Megs; it just gets her even more flustered. But I grumbled about it in the car.

“It’s such a drag, hanging around for the bus! Cycling’s perfectly safe, as long as you wear a helmet. It’s not like we’re in London! I could understand it if we were in London. But I mean, out here it’s, like – well! It’s just fields and stuff. Auntie Megs makes such a fuss!”

“I guess you can understand it,” said Jake. “Maya’s quite a delicate little thing, isn’t she?”

Oh, yuck!

“Not especially,” I said. “She just looks like she is. She’s actually quite tough.”

“No one would ever think it,” said Jake.

I felt like telling him that if he hadn’t been there Maya would simply have picked herself up and got back on her bike. She wouldn’t have had much choice, cos I wouldn’t have fussed and flapped over her! But I didn’t say anything, cos I didn’t want him thinking I was cold and heartless. It’s just that what with being born only weeks apart, and with our mums being twins, we’ve been brought up almost like sisters, so I really do know her inside out. It is only emotionally, like Auntie Megs, that she is a bit fragile, which is why I always feel I have to be there for her. Sometimes some of my friends get a bit impatient and say why do I bother, but it’s like a sort of duty. I couldn’t just turn my back. It was the only reason I’d agreed to get the bus instead of carrying on cycling by myself.

Linzi Baxter was unfortunately nowhere to be seen as we turned into Orchard Close. I guess it was a bit too much to hope for. She is the sort of person that is always there when you don’t want her to be and nowhere to be seen when you feel like doing a bit of showing off. Probably served me right. Showing off is very pathetic. I don’t usually stoop to it. Unlike Linzi.

I told Jake thanks for the lift, and he said no problem.

“Let me get your bike out for you … there you go!”

I hovered for a few seconds as he drove away, but there were still no signs of life from Linzi’s house. Unless perhaps she was peering from behind the curtain. I wouldn’t put it past her!

I wheeled my bike round the back and went in through the kitchen. Mum was on the phone. I heard her say, “Well, keep an eye on her. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

“Was that Auntie Megs?” I said. “Telling you about Maya? She just fell off her bike; she didn’t do any damage. Well, apart from scraping her hand. Nothing to get fussed about.”

“No, I’m sure you’re right, but you know what your auntie’s like,” said Mum. “What’s this I hear about Jake rushing to the rescue?”

“He was just driving past,” I said. “He saw her come off so he stopped to help.”

“Actually carried her over the threshold, so I hear!”

“Yes. Well.” I pulled a face. “It was all done for show. He didn’t have to.”

“Still, good for him,” said Mum. “It’s nice to know the days of chivalry are not completely over.”

“But, Mum,” I cried, “it was so embarrassing! She got all silly and swoony and burst into tears. She wouldn’t have done it if Jake hadn’t been there.”

“Don’t be too hard on her,” urged Mum. “She’s going through a really tough time right now. So’s your Auntie Megs. They’re both missing Uncle Kev and you can’t blame them for being worried about him.”

I sighed. “I know. I do try …”

Maya’s dad, my Uncle Kev, is what my dad calls selfish and unreliable. Dad doesn’t have much patience with him. Mum, more kindly, says he’s just a bit eccentric. Actually, if you ask me he is very eccentric. I do love him, cos he’s also funny and warm-hearted and generous, but I can see why Dad accuses him of being selfish. He is one of those people that can’t ever seem to settle to anything. He was a milkman for a little while, but that didn’t work out, so then he worked in Tesco for a few months, until he got bored and decided he needed something more stimulating and became a postman, only he couldn’t manage to get up early enough in the morning and I think he probably got the sack, though Maya, who is very loyal, always said it wasn’t that at all. It was because his feet hurt.

In between working at proper jobs Uncle Kev has these brilliant ideas for inventing things. He then has to try and find people who will give him some money to start actually making the things he has invented so that he can become immensely rich and Auntie Megs will be able to stop cleaning houses for people that are already immensely rich, such as Jake’s mum and dad.

At the moment Uncle Kev was off on a world tour. It was his latest brilliant idea. He was going to see how far he could get by just walking and hitchhiking, starting with Europe, and then he was going to write a book about his adventures and sell it on Amazon so that Auntie Megs could stop cleaning houses, etc.

He had set off at the end of August and we were now halfway through September and Auntie Megs and Maya were still waiting to hear from him. He had warned them he wouldn’t be using his mobile phone except in emergencies cos he wanted to prove that life without “all this modern technology” was still possible. Typical Uncle Kev!

At least, as Mum said, no news was good news, but I did feel a bit sorry for Maya. I could understand why she was so anxious. I would be anxious if my dad suddenly took off and we didn’t know where he was or when he was coming back. Maybe I had been too hard on her.

“P’raps after tea,” I said, “I might go round and check she’s OK?”

“That would be a nice thing to do,” said Mum. “Auntie Megs would appreciate that.”

I said, “Yes, and we can decide what time we’re leaving in the morning … We’ve got to go by bus from now on. Auntie Megs says her nerves won’t stand us cycling any more.”

Mum laughed. “Well, that’s all right. Going by bus won’t hurt you.”

She didn’t suggest that I could still cycle. It was kind of taken for granted that I’d always be there to watch over Maya. I suppose on the whole I didn’t really mind. Except just sometimes I could get a bit impatient, like when I went round after tea and found her still all frail and suffering on the sofa with a great chunk of cake in her hand. Obviously nothing wrong with her appetite!

“Talk about playing it up,” I said.

She looked at me reproachfully with these enormous blue eyes that she has. Big wide-apart eyes in a tiny heart-shaped face.

“It really hurt,” she said. The tears were already welling up. I am convinced that Maya can actually make herself cry just by thinking about it. “If Jake hadn’t been there I don’t know what I’d have done.”

I was about to say she’d have got up and got back on her bike, but at that moment Auntie Megs came through from the kitchen. She must have heard Jake’s name cos she said, “That is such a lovely young man! Most of them wouldn’t have bothered.”

I thought, that was because there wasn’t anything to bother about. But it wouldn’t have been polite to say so.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said. “Eight o’clock at the bus stop?”

Maya nodded, dreamily. “Unless Jake comes by and gives us a lift.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Well … you know! If he happened to be passing,” said Maya.

I looked at her, suspiciously. She had this slightly glazed and goofy expression on her face. I knew exactly what it meant.

“You’ve gone and done it again,” I hissed, “haven’t you?”

She gazed up at me, all innocence. “What?”

“Got one of your things.” I mouthed it at her. I couldn’t say it out loud, cos of Auntie Megs being there, though sometimes I think Auntie Megs only hears what she wants to hear.

“If Jake did offer you a lift,” she said, “it would be extremely kind of him, but I don’t think you ought to expect it. Only if he offers.”

“That’s all I meant,” said Maya. “If he offers.” And she gave me this impish smile, like we were in some kind of conspiracy.

I shook my head. If Maya was about to embark on yet another of her all-consuming crushes life was going to be extremely tiresome.

Eight o’clock next morning found us at the bus stop, glumly waiting for a bus to appear. Well, I was glum. I hate waiting for buses! I suppose I am quite an impatient sort of person.

“This is all because of you,” I grumbled to Maya. “If you hadn’t made all that fuss …”

Maya gazed at me, sorrowfully. “I couldn’t help it! You heard what Jake said … it was a really bad fall.”

“Not that bad,” I said. “You didn’t have to be such a drama queen.”

“I wasn’t! It hurt. It still does. Look!” She held out her hand, palm up, to show me. “I might have needed stitches. It could have got infected.”

I said, “Oh, please! And why do you keep peering at cars like that?”

She started, guiltily. “I’m not!”

“Yes, you are. You’re hoping Jake’ll come by, aren’t you?”

Except she obviously couldn’t remember what sort of car he drove. I could remember. It was a Fiat! I’m quite good at recognising different makes of car. Dad and I sometimes look at car sites together on the internet, picking out ones Dad would like to drive. Dad usually goes for the big posh ones like BMW and Mercedes. I prefer the little ones cos I think they look more cosy. Like little Easter eggs on wheels. Maya’s mum and dad don’t actually have a car so she doesn’t really know anything about them. I bet all she could remember about Jake’s Fiat was that it was small and blue.

I’d obviously embarrassed her, but it didn’t stop her peering.

“Know what?” I said.

“What?”

“You’re being really obvious!”

She frowned, nibbling at a thumbnail. “What’s that s’pposed to mean?”

“You’re making it look like we’re desperate! If you’re not careful some nutter’ll pull up and tell us to get in.”

That scared her a bit. “We wouldn’t have to do it!”

“They might try and make us.”

“So we’d run!”

“I’d run,” I said. “You’d probably trip over and fall flat on your face.”

And this time Jake wouldn’t be there to pick her up.

She bit her lip.

“It’s what happens,” I said, “when people get crushes they can’t control.”

She didn’t try denying that she’d got a crush. Just as well cos I wouldn’t have believed her. I could recognise the signs when I saw them. It wasn’t the first crush she’d had. Not by a long chalk, as Dad would say. Back in Year Six she’d fallen in love with our class teacher, Mrs O’Malley. She’d trotted about after her like a little lost puppy, all beaming and trustful. It had gone on for weeks. Then last summer she’d got this massive crush on a boy called Anil, who worked at the minimart. The minimart was owned by his mum and dad, and Anil used to help out sometimes after school. Maya insisted that we call in there every single afternoon on the way home. It was like the highlight of her day – the moment she lived for. If Anil was there she was in heaven; on days when he wasn’t she was cast into the deepest depths of despair.

Needless to say we always had to buy something, like a tube of Smarties or a KitKat or something. We couldn’t just stand there gawping, though left to herself – that is, without me to hold her hand – it’s what she probably would have done. She was never brave enough to actually say anything. She just felt this desperate need to be near him for a few minutes. It seemed to satisfy her, which was just as well since Anil showed absolutely no interest in her whatsoever. Hardly surprising. He must have been at least sixteen, maybe even older, and with Maya being so tiny he probably thought she was still just a little kid at primary school.

I don’t know how long her obsession would have lasted, but at the start of the summer holidays new people took over the shop and Anil and his mum and dad disappeared and things went back to normal. It surprised me a bit cos I’d really thought Maya would be all broken up and weepy, but luckily Uncle Kev chose that moment to have one of his bright ideas: he and Maya and Auntie Megs were all going to go and live in a cottage on the Isle of Skye for a month. They were going to be entirely self-sufficient, like gas and electricity and stuff had never been invented, and then he was going to write a book about it. Another book.

Well, the book never got written and by the time they came home Maya had more or less forgotten about Anil, but it had been really tiresome while it lasted. I was just hoping this thing she was obviously getting about Jake wouldn’t develop into a full-blown crush. I wasn’t sure I could take it all over again!

She was still obsessively checking out every blue car that drove past. Big ones, small ones; just so long as they were blue. I hadn’t realised there were so many of them. Blue must be a really popular colour! (I would have red if it was me.)