Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

Dead Gorgeous

Malorie Blackman




  Dad turned in the direction of Nova’s pointing finger. ‘Nova, there’s no one here except you and me.’

  ‘Dad, this isn’t the time for a wind-up.’

  ‘My feelings exactly. Go and wind up your mother instead,’ Dad huffed.

  ‘Why did you let him behind the desk?’ Nova asked, exasperated.

  ‘Who?’

  Nova was about to explode when Weirdo put his finger up to his lips. The gesture momentarily took the wind out of Nova’s sails – but only momentarily.

  ‘Dad-’ She got no further.

  Weirdo walked right through Dad and the reception desk to stand in front of Nova. ‘I wouldn’t bother if I were you,’ he said. ‘It seems that you’re the only one in this dump who can see me. Hi, I’m Liam.’ And he held out his hand. . .

  www.malorieblackman.co.uk

  Also available by Malorie Blackman,

  and published by Corgi Books

  A.N.T.I.D.O.T.E.

  DANGEROUS REALITY HACKER

  KNIFE EDGE

  NOUGHTS & CROSSES

  PIG-HEART BOY

  THEIF!

  Hardcover, published by Doubleday:

  CHECKMATE

  For junior readers, published by Corgi Yearling Books:

  OPERATION GADGETMAN!

  For beginner readers, published by Corgi Pups Books:

  SPACE RACE

  SNOW DOG

  THE MONSTER CRISP-GUZZLER

  This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  ISBN 9781407049977

  Version 1.0

  www.randomhouse.co.uk

  Contents

  1. Liam

  2. Nova and Her Dad

  3. Nova and Her Mum

  4. Liam

  5. Rainbow

  6. Nova and Miss Eve

  7. Liam

  8. Rainbow

  9. Nova and Liam

  10. Liam

  11. Andrew

  12. Acquaintances

  13. Liam and Rainbow

  14. Nova

  15. Mr Jackman

  16. Nova and Rainbow

  17. Liam and Mr Jackman

  18. Liam

  19. Liam

  20. Dinner

  21. Liam

  22. Liam

  23. Nova

  24. Dad

  25. Nova

  26. Nova

  27. Miss Dawn and Miss Eve

  28. The Eavesdropper

  29. Nova

  30. Andrew

  31. Nova

  32. Rainbow

  33. Nova

  34. Andrew and Raye

  35. Jake and Jude

  36. Joshua Jackman

  37. Andrew and Raye

  38. Brothers

  39. Help

  40. Andrew and Liam

  41. Joshua

  42. Sunday

  43. Realization

  44. Liam

  45. Confession

  46. The Final Test

  47. Miss Dawn and Miss Eve

  To Neil and Lizzy with love

  1. Liam

  A storm was coming. I could smell it in the brackish air, hear it in the growl of the waves, see it in the darkening clouds. Josh picked up a stone and tried to skim it across the foaming water. It sank immediately. A wave raced up the beach towards us as if in protest.

  Josh laughed and picked up another stone. ‘Wow! Look at that!’

  A salt tang caught at the back of my throat and I had to cough slightly to clear it before I could speak.

  ‘Look! Look!’ Josh pointed.

  ‘At what?’

  ‘The sea.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘It’s like a huge pot of spaghetti, boiling and bubbling!’

  I looked away and shook my head, biting back on the words that just itched to leave my mouth.

  ‘Amazing! Check the sky!’ Josh continued.

  I automatically looked up at the strange yellowy-grey clouds. It was as if the tops of the clouds were solid and on fire and all the resultant soot and ash were falling to the bottom of them. It was quite common to see the clouds like that over the coast where we lived but I’d never seen them like that anywhere else, and certainly not inland. Not that I’d been to that many places. Not that I’d been anywhere really. The sky matched my mood. Unsettled. Restless.

  ‘What about the sky?’ I said, unable to keep the impatience out of my voice.

  ‘Isn’t it terrific? Like . . . like . . .’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Josh. Not again,’ I snapped like an old elastic band. ‘Why’re you always going on about the skylight and the twilight and the moonlight? No wonder you’re always getting picked on at school.’

  Josh looked up at me like a wounded dog I’d kicked when he was down. ‘I like . . . looking at things.’

  ‘Fine. But that’s no reason to drip on like a snotty tissue about them,’ I said viciously.

  Josh winced at my words and I wasn’t sorry. I was glad. I liked to look at things too, but you didn’t hear me going on like a girly about them. Josh had to toughen up – fast. I wouldn’t always be there to watch his back at school, or anywhere else for that matter. Didn’t he understand that?

  ‘I’ll shut up then,’ Josh replied quietly.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘I’d appreciate it.’

  Josh’s nose began to run. Another reason why my brother always gets picked on. Whenever he’s upset, his nose dribbles. It drives me crazy.

  ‘Wipe your nose,’ I ordered.

  Josh swiped the sleeve of his jumper across his face. He picked up another stone and skimmed it across the water. After a moment I picked up a stone, my hand clenching tightly around its icy smoothness. I knew I was just taking out my bad mood on my brother, but who else was there?

  No one.

  I shook my head.

  My whole life was so pointless. It didn’t matter. I didn’t matter. I was like one of the small pebbles on the beach, battered smooth by day after month after year of wave upon wave. Except in my case, the wave was my dad. He picked on and criticized and disapproved and condemned every breath I took, until the effect was just the same. I was battered smooth, but that was only on the outside. Inside I was rough and jagged and all corners. And Josh was the only one I could hurt. So I often did. And as much as I hated myself afterwards, it never stopped me from doing it again. And again.

  I clenched the stone in my hand even more tightly. Josh sniffed beside me. I wanted to turn to him and hug him and hold him and tell him that he was my brother and that meant something to me. But I didn’t. We stood there, together but apart as it began to rain. No gradual build-up from a light spray, but great beads of icy water as big as my fingernails. We were soaked in seconds. The waves lashed up the beach, laughing at us. Or maybe they were angry with us. Or maybe they couldn’t care less one way or the other. We picked up smooth stones and skimmed them across the rough water as the storm bashed at us.

  It was better than going home.

  Sooner or later, we’d have to turn round and head back. If we were lucky, Dad would be round the pub and we’d be able to change our clothes without ructions. If we were lucky. And once again, it’d be left to me to cook up some pasta or some bacon, beans and toast for dinner – which was OK as long as we could eat our dinner in peace before Dad got home. I turned to look at Jo
sh, wondering what he was thinking. As if he sensed me watching him, he wiped his nose again with his sleeve. It was raining quite hard now. The yellow tinge to the clouds had disappeared. Now there was only dark charcoal-grey.

  ‘Come on, Josh,’ I shouted above the noise of the waves and the rain. ‘Time to head back.’

  ‘Liam, I don’t want to go home,’ he shouted back.

  ‘Come on.’ I started walking up the beach. I didn’t need to turn round to know that my brother was standing there watching me. ‘Come on, or I’ll leave you to it,’ I yelled.

  Josh started to follow me. I slowed down so that he could catch up. When at last he did, I turned round to him and smiled. He smiled back. Without warning, I grabbed him and put him in a headlock.

  ‘Get off!’ he shouted.

  After messing up his short locks good and proper, I let him go. Josh had to take a step forward, his hands stretched out before him to stop himself from falling. He sprang up and grinned at me. And just like that, some of the weight was lifted from my shoulders. But not much. And not for long.

  ‘Time to go home,’ I sighed.

  Josh’s smile vanished. And I’d done that. I was always the one to wipe the smile from his face. Sometimes, I really hated being the older brother. Sometimes, I wondered how it would feel to just be me. By myself. No one else to consider. No one else to worry about. Just the thought of it made me ache inside. To be on my own and left alone. Now that would be a real slice of heaven.

  2. Nova and Her Dad

  Nova had to read the wretched notice her dad had just put on the hotel notice board twice before the full horror of it sank in. What had she done to deserve such a father? Was she someone despicably mean in another life? Just who had she cheesed off? Obviously someone really high up in the pecking order of things, because she was sure paying for it now. It was like every night, Dad dreamed up unique, bizarre and very effective ways to embarrass the hell out of her. And the trouble was, he always succeeded. Nova sighed – one of the deep, long-suffering sighs that she was rightly proud of. She stretched out a hand to remove the notice.

  ‘Nova, don’t even think about it,’ Dad called out, leaning over the reception desk.

  ‘Dad, you can’t leave that there.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Anyone thinking of staying here will think this place is a nut-house, that’s why.’

  ‘Any new guests will be impressed by the hygiene standards at our hotel.’

  ‘New guests? Dream on!’ Nova muttered. She scowled at Dad’s notice. It had to come down. Embarrassing didn’t even come close to describing it.

  POLITE NOTICE TO ALL GUESTS OF PHOENIX MANOR

  There are some devices which are being underused in this hotel due to an obvious lack of knowledge or technical awareness. I realize that these features come without a user guide, so I thought I might offer some advice.

  * The white or wooden handle on the rear wall of each toilet cubicle is not decorative, nor is it the handle of a fruit machine or a firing mechanism for an ejector seat. It has the express function of sending your sausage to the seaside. No matter how proud you may be of the fibre content of your diet, we at this hotel don’t want to see the evidence. Flush the ruddy thing!

  * Loobrushaphobia continues to be a real problem for some of you. Hold the narrow white or wood veneer end of the brush and use the bristly end to remove whatever excreta may have avoided ‘the flush’ (see above).

  * When you use the last piece of toilet paper in the dispenser, it would be a noble, charitable and friendly act to replace it from the large stock provided in each bathroom. Please do NOT phone me or any member of my family at Omigod o’clock in the early hours of the morning and ask where the spare toilet rolls are, as happened two nights ago. And if you do run out of toilet paper and find there is no more available in your current location, please do NOT shuffle down to the reception desk with your trousers around your ankles – yes, you, Mr Burntwood. (My wife is still having nightmares.)

  * The fact that fresh urine is almost sterile does not entirely mitigate the practice of spraying it around the toilet seat and/or floor like some randy tomcat. In other words, ‘If you sprinkle when you tinkle, keep it neat and wipe the seat.’

  If there are any technical issues for which you require further information, please call me on ext. 100 or try www.social.hygiene/how-to-use-the-ruddy-toilet.bum

  Tyler Clibbens – Hotel Owner/Manager/General Dogsbody

  Nova stretched out a hand towards it.

  ‘Nova, I’m watching you,’ Dad yelled, leaning even further over his desk.

  ‘Dad, please.’ Nova was desperate. ‘Besides, you don’t want Mum to see this, do you?’

  ‘So what if she does?’ Dad looked around furtively. He stood upright, shoulders squared, lips pursed and set. ‘Besides, what I say goes.’

  ‘Only when Mum isn’t here,’ replied Nova.

  ‘Well, she’s not here now so that notice stays. The job’s a good ‘un! Leave it alone.’

  Nova recognized that belligerent tone of voice. She was familiar with the gritty, stern look. She had thought that throwing Mum into the conversation would make Dad back down – it usually did – but he was obviously having one of his ‘I’m the man and not under my wife’s thumb’ moments! Nova couldn’t help shaking her head at the notice one last time, before turning to make her way to the kitchen.

  Mr Jackman bumped into her and carried on walking without saying a word.

  ‘Excuse me all over the place,’ Nova huffed at him.

  Mr Jackman hadn’t altered his pace one bit. Nova didn’t even know if he’d heard her. What was that man’s problem? He shuffled around the hotel as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He wasn’t even that old. Nova didn’t think he’d reached his thirties yet. Early to middle twenties at the most. But he moved like a man at least three times his age. If he tried smiling occasionally he might actually be passable. Short, dark-brown hair, and once, when he’d actually looked at her rather than slinking past, head down, she’d noticed with a start that he had one brown eye and one dark blue. The start was because he’d been at the hotel for a few days by then and it was the first time Nova had caught a clear glimpse of his eyes. She had never seen a mixed race guy with different coloured eyes before. It made Mr Jackman seem even more mysterious.

  Now he’d been in the hotel for over a week and when he did put in an appearance – which wasn’t often – he always wore immaculate black jeans and a T-shirt, usually white, even in the unusually chilly autumn weather.

  ‘Ah, Mr Jackman, will you be staying on with us for a while longer?’ Dad called out, leaning over the reception desk and craning his neck.

  Mr Jackman nodded and carried on towards the stairs.

  ‘Can you give me some idea how long you’ll be with us?’ Dad leaned out even further, one hand waving to attract Mr Jackman’s attention.

  But the initial nod was all Dad was going to get. Mr Jackman walked up the stairs as if Dad hadn’t spoken. As if Dad wasn’t even there.

  ‘Er . . . Mr Jackman . . . Mr — Arrggghhhh!’ Dad tipped right over the reception desk to land in a heap on the other side.

  ‘Hello, Nova.’

  Nova jumped at the sound of the voice behind her. She whipped round, surprised then not surprised to see Miss Dawn standing behind her. Both Miss Dawn and her companion, Miss Eve, had the weirdest knack of appearing behind you almost out of nowhere. Miss Dawn was an elderly black woman, her black hair streaked with honey brown and burgundy highlights. She was about as tall as Nova’s sister, Rainbow, though Miss Eve was taller.

  ‘He’s a strange man, isn’t he?’ said Miss Dawn.

  ‘Are you talking about my dad or Mr Jackman?’

  Miss Dawn smiled in Dad’s direction, watching as he cursed up a blue streak while he struggled to his feet. She turned to watch Mr Jackman’s back disappear round a bend in the stairs. ‘Well, in this instance I was referring to Mr Jackman.’


  ‘He’s not very friendly, is he?’ Nova said.

  ‘Maybe he’s got a lot on his mind,’ Miss Dawn suggested.

  ‘And all of it bad, from the look on his face.’

  ‘What he needs is a good friend, my dear. Someone like you,’ said Miss Dawn.

  ‘I’m sure the very last thing he wants is to be bothered by me.’

  ‘Don’t you believe it. We all need someone to talk to, someone to share things with and sometimes . . .’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Sometimes, no one sees things more clearly than a child.’

  ‘Excuse me, I’m not a child. I’m nearly thirteen.’ Nova bristled.

  ‘Oh, of course, my dear. My mistake.’ Miss Dawn’s eyes twinkled. ‘My point is just that sometimes younger ones like you see more clearly than us . . . wrinklies.’

  ‘Tell that to my dad – ‘ Nova indicated with her head ‘then maybe he’ll let me take down that notice.’

  ‘Oh, no! You don’t want to take that down. Your father’s quite right, my dear.’

  ‘But . . . but it’s embarrassing!’

  ‘What’s embarrassing about using the toilet?’ asked Miss Dawn with perfect seriousness. ‘It’s something to celebrate rather than be ashamed of. We all do it! And toilets are a fantastic invention. So useful. So comfortable!’

  Nova’s face grew hotter by the second. That was not the sort of thing old women should talk about. ‘If you say so.’ She took a discreet but wary step backwards.

  ‘I do! I’ve spent many a happy hour sitting on the toilet, reading or sewing or just contemplating the infinite!’

  ‘Er . . . I think I hear Mum calling me. Bye!’ Nova turned and raced for the kitchen.

  ‘Nova, don’t run!’ Dad yelled. ‘Health and safety!’

  ‘I wasn’t about to give you a graphic demonstration, my dear,’ Miss Dawn called out. ‘I was just talking about them, that’s all.’

  Nova didn’t stop running until she’d reached the kitchen. If it weren’t for the weird guests at the hotel and the even more weird behaviour of her dad, the hotel might actually be a reasonable place to hang out!