Taisie, only now aware of her there, rounded on her mother, as though Janet was also to blame: ‘She’s got my phone and she won’t give it back!’
‘Elise?’ Janet called. ‘Open the door.’
‘She tried to hit me,’ Elise said, slightly muffled. ‘Tell her off.’
‘Why did you hit her?’ Janet asked Taisie, who was unable to stand still, seething with outrage.
‘I didn’t, I missed,’ snapped Taisie. ‘And she took my phone, I told you, dumbo.’
‘Hey!’ Janet glared at Taisie. ‘Open the door, Elise,’ she said again.
She heard Elise fumbling with the lock. She had seen it so many times before. Taisie wronged by her bigger brighter sister, going off like a warehouse full of firecrackers while Elise, sensible and clever and sometimes a little holier than thou, took the moral high ground.
Elise opened the door and Taisie lunged, but Janet caught her arm. ‘Cool it, lady,’ she said. Then turned to Elise, ‘Give her the phone.’
Elise was flushed, a righteous look on her face. ‘But she-’
‘Give it,’ Janet said firmly, ‘and then you can explain.’
‘I haven’t done anything wrong,’ Elise protested, all wounded innocence. ‘Anyway, she’s-’
‘Elise,’ Janet cautioned.
Elise thrust out the phone, which Taisie snatched, snarling, ‘Loser.’
‘Taisie.’
‘Well, she is,’ Taisie retorted. ‘She’s no life of her own, so she’s spying on me.’
Janet looked to Elise for an explanation.
‘Why don’t you ask her what she’s got on her phone?’ Elise said. ‘You’ve heard of cyber bullying?’
Janet turned to Taisie.
‘It’s not, it’s just a joke,’ the younger girl said.
‘Unless you’re on the receiving end,’ Elise said sharply.
Janet held out her hand for the phone. Taisie coloured and Janet could see her gauging whether to refuse. ‘Give it.’
‘I hate you, you sad cow,’ Taisie yelled at Elise, as she plonked the phone in Janet’s outstretched hand.
‘Hate you more,’ Elise said.
Janet wasn’t sure what she was looking for on the phone but needed to appear in control. ‘I’ll keep this for now,’ she stalled. ‘You both must have some homework to do.’
‘It’s in the picture files,’ Elise said smugly.
Taisie stamped off to her room, banging the door hard.
Don’t slam it, Janet thought, but let it go.
She ate the warmed-up remains of beef curry as she navigated the phone. Found the picture directory, spotted the file name: Mr Fairy. It was Taisie’s form tutor, doctored to show the man with breasts and a tutu. It was crudely done, but effective if you wanted to lampoon the bloke. Janet could take him or leave him but had gathered he was unpopular with the kids. All the same, there was something cruel and distasteful in what they were doing. Eleven-year-olds!
