Lemonade Sky by Jean Ure Page B

one look at her and shrieked, “Omigod, what have you done?” One side of her face was all scratched and torn, like a wild cat had landed on her. “What happened?”
    “Had a fight,” said Tizz.
    My heart plummeted. That was all we needed! Tizz getting into a fight.
    “Wasn’t my fault,” muttered Tizz.
    I just bet it was! I said, “So whose fault was it?”
    “This girl. Alanna Gibbs.”
    “Why? What did she do?”
    “She said Mum was a benefit scrounge.”
    I said, “A what ?”
    “A benefit scrounge! She said people like her mum that worked really hard have to pay for people like our mum to sit at home and do nothing. Just live on benefits.”
    That really took me aback. I said, “She never!”
    “She so did.”
    “And you went for her?”
    “Well, wouldn’t you?” said Tizz.
    I thought in all honesty that I probably wouldn’t; at least, not physically. All the same, I was sorry I’d automatically assumed that Tizz had been at fault. All she’d been doing was standing up for Mum. It was so unfair to say that Mum was a benefit scrounge! Right up until the end of last year she’d worked every day at Chicken ‘n’ Chips, just down the road. It’s where she’d met Nikki, her so-called friend. She’d only stopped working when Chicken ‘n’ Chips had gone broke and had to close down. If they hadn’t have closed, she’d have still been there. She’d tried to find another job. She’d been for loads of interviews. But she had to tell people she was taking medication, and what she was taking it for, and we thought perhaps it frightened them cos nobody ever offered her anything.
    Rather nervously, I asked Tizz if any of the teachers had seen what happened.
    “Dunno,” said Tizz. “Don’t care. Not going back.”
    What???
    “But you’ve got to!” I said.
    “If I go back,” said Tizz, “I’ll kill her.”
    “But what about Sammy? She needs you to take her in! And bring her home.”
    “I’ll take her in,” said Tizz. “I’ll even bring her home. But I am not going back. ”
    I couldn’t seem to find the energy to argue with her. All I could hope was that she’d simmer down over the weekend and be a bit more reasonable. Otherwise, what could I do? I couldn’t force her to go to school.
    “Know what?” I said. “I don’t care. I don’t care about anything any more.”
    “Me neither,” said Tizz. “What are we going to eat?”
    “Dunno,” I said. “Dunno what there is.”
    Tizz opened the cupboard. “ Beans. Spaghetti. Soup .”
    I shrugged. “Whatever.”
    “Else there’s cornflakes,” said Tizz, “’cept we don’t have any milk.”
    “What?” That shook me. “No milk?” How could we possibly be out of milk?
    “All got drunk,” said Tizz.
    “When?”
    “I dunno.”
    “I mean, when did you find out?”
    “Dunno. Last night?”
    “Why didn’t you tell me?” I glared at her, exasperated. “I could have got some on the way home! You’ll have to go up the road.”
    “What, now?” said Tizz.
    “Yes! We can’t be without milk.”
    “Why can’t we?”
    “Cos we need it for the cornflakes.”
    “Why?”
    I said, “You want to eat cornflakes dry ?”
    “Don’t want to eat cornflakes at all,” said Tizz.
    “You will when you’re starving,” I said.
    I went to the cupboard and groped around for the empty yogurt pot which I’d used for hiding what was left of our emergency fund. To my horror, all it had in it was a 50p piece. Where had the rest of it gone?
    And then I looked at Tizz, and I knew. She hadn’t been stealing things, she’d raided the yoghurt pot. Which in a way was just the same as stealing. No wonder she didn’t want me sending her up the road to buy milk! She knew we didn’t have enough money left.
    I said, “Tizz, how could you?”
    She tossed her head, defiantly. “At least I didn’t spend it on rotting veg! And anyway,” she added, “there’s not long to go.”
    She meant that it would soon be Tuesday. The day she had