10 Dinner, Interrupted

10 Dinner, Interrupted So, why did you do it?' asked Mum in between a mouthful of shepherd's pie and a glug of red wine. 'Why did I do what?' said Peanut. 'Why did you deliberately do something that would put you in detention? That's your fourth in three weeks. Oh, that. Well, basically, I keep getting detentions because... ALL OF THE TEACHERS AT ST HUBERT'S ARE ABSOLUTE IDIOTS!' Peanut felt herself getting cross at the mere thought of Death Breath. Don't raise your voice at me, young lady. I think it's about time you grew up, that's what I think. You can't go around drawing vampire zombies in your exercise books. You're not seven years old!'

'First, I am pretty grown-up, actually. Second, it wasn't a vampire zombie, it was a vampire unicorn. And third, why don't you just leave me alone?' I agree with Peanut,' said Little-Bit without looking up from her plate of Dino Bites. 'Nobody asked you,' snapped Mum. ' Peanut, I know you have yet to find your feet at St Hubert's, but I expect you to at least put some effort in. Why don't you try to make some friends? That'd be a start, at least. A phone started to ring. Mum jumped up from her chair and rummaged through her handbag. ' Oh, where is it? Ah, here we go.' She slid her finger across the screen. ' Hello...? Oh, hi, Milton.' She was talking in that strange voice that Peanut didn't recognise. 'Is this about the Globetown report? Is there something else I need to include? Oh... Oh, I see. Right. Well, er, that would be. lovely. Yes, yes, six thirty tomorrow evening is fine. Yes. Thank you. I'll, er, I'll see you in the morning. OK then. Goodnight. Peanut eyed her mum suspiciously. 'Please tell me that what just happened isn't what I think just happened,' she said, a bead of sweat appearing on her forehead. 'Well, that depends on what you think happened, doesn't it? Eat your dinner, Peanut. ' Oh, it's "Peanut" again, is it? Not Pernilla? I wonder what you'll refer to me as tomorrow night on your date

with Mr Stoneyface Greasyboy!' 'That's enough! Milton has simply invited me to dinner tomorrow night to discuss my career path.' Mum's face flushed. 'There's nothing more to it than that. Leo, will you be able to look after your sisters after the childminder goes home?' 'I guess,' said Leo, shrugging and avoiding eye contact with his mother. They were the first words he'd spoken since they'd been at the table. 'OK!' shouted Peanut. 'Stop the world, I'm getting off!' 'Pardon?' said Mum. Have you totally forgotten about Dad? I cannot believe you are going to pretend he never existed and start going out with that horrible man! If Dad was here 'Well Dad's not here, is he?' said Mum icily. ' No. He's probably been kidnapped and is being held against his will in some awful dungeon somewhere. Meanwhile, you are totally ignoring it and going out on dates!' 'He has not been kidnapped, Peanut. He left us. He wrote months ago to tell us that he'd left us.' 'He would never do that! You know he'd never do that!' Peanut's voice was cracking. 'You know what? I've just about had enough of answering to a twelve-year-old child. If you don't like it then you can just... go to your room. Oh, don't worry. I'm going!'

Peanut stomped out of the dining room, making as much noise with her feet on the stairs as she possibly could. She ran into her bedroom, slammed the door shut behind her and dived on to the bed.

She lay still, breathing deeply as her heart rate gradually slowed and returned to normal. After a few minutes, she rolled across her duvet and reached out to her bedside table for the wooden box full of Post-it notes. She slowly ran her

fingers over the letters carved into the lid before she opened it. Looking at the pictures Dad had drawn over the years was always comforting. It made Peanut feel as if he were nearby. He might have written the words 'Love you forever x' on more than 2,000 drawings, but she never tired of reading them. ' I love you too, Dad,' she whispered. 'I'm going to find you. I promise. She tipped all of the notes on to her bed and spread them out on the duvet. Mickey Mouse, Paddington Bear, that cute scribbly dog, and hundreds of other familiar faces stared back at her. As Peanut reached over to grab a particularly intricate mini-version of a painting called The Kiss by Gustav Klimt, she knocked the empty box with her elbow, and it crashed to the floor. A shout came from downstairs: 'If you know what's good for you, you'll stop throwing things around your room, young lady!' Peanut sighed and bent down to pick up the box. As she lifted it back on to the bed, she felt a slight movement within. She looked inside. There was nothing there. She shook it. There it was again. A very faint tapping sound. What could it be? She felt all around the interior, the long sides, the short Sides, the bottom. Ah. A bit of give. She tried to lever the edges. Nothing. Then she pushed the base with her fingers. Suddenly, something seemed to release, like a push-click cupboard door. It popped open.