Flash Jack

As soon as the pizzas arrived, Sean and Frank somehow materialised without being called. It must have been the smell, although how they could have smelt it from out in their bungalow I'll never know. Anyway we all sat down together for the first time in ages. No one said much but there was no shouting or griping or storming out, which was a change. I was just going for my third slice of tropical when the doorbell rang.

'That'll be the lady next door with the lemons,' Mum said, about to get up. 'She said she'd drop them off.'

Dad held her arm down. 'Can you get it, Sean, please?' he asked. 'Your mother is eating.'

On the point of protesting that he was eating too, Sean for some reason thought better of it. With a small impatient grunt he pushed back in his chair and went to get the door.

When he came back into the room he wasn't carrying a bag of lemons. He stood, arms folded across his chest, with the biggest cheesy grin that I'd ever seen. And what was more alarming, he was staring at me.

'Who was it?' Mum wanted to know.

'For Jack,' Sean chortled, still grinning. 'A girl! She's out there waiting for him. A wacky-looking little chick with spiked hair!'

There was a moment of stunned silence, then Frank began to smirk. Dad thumped me on the back and Mum giggled and poked me in the ribs. It was excruciating in the extreme – as bad as the time I got caught in my worn-out jocks at the door by a women trying to sell vacuum cleaners.

'Who is it Jack?'

"What's her name?'

'Sly dog!'

'A girlfriend, heh?'

'Why didn't you invite her in, Sean?' Dad said in his loud voice. 'Shouldn't leave anyone just waiting out on the doorstop, you know.'

I got up before he could go out and pursue that one any further. Sometimes Dad is so thick. Imagine asking her in! God, how dumb can you get? All the way down the hallway I was hoping like hell it wasn't her and at the same time hoping with everything in me that it was. Who else could it possibly be? I don't know any other girls with spiked hair.

It was Diana, of course. She was leaning up against the porch, she had about five new blue centipede clips stuck around her hair and she was wearing the same red dress and old thongs I'd first seen her in.

'Hi,' she said.

'Hi.' I was trying not to feel self-conscious.

'What're you doing?' Her arms were crossed and I saw that she had her dog with her, on a lead. He was sitting at her feet, panting. His tail was sort of bent and balding and he looked old. I leant over to pat him and he growled and took a snap at me.

'Just having tea,' I said pulling my hand away. 'Your dog always so friendly?'

She shrugged. The dog obviously wasn't on her mind at that moment. 'Want to come around tomorrow?' she said, not looking at me.

'Yeah. Okay.'

She nodded and moved to go, then, as though remembering the reason why she'd come, she turned back to me. 'Oh yeah,' she said quickly, 'I saw a guy riding your board yesterday.'

'What?'

'Yeah. Your stolen skateboard,' she explained meaningfully, as though I might have forgotten that my board had been pinched. 'He was in the park,' she went on, ' so I followed him. Back to this old joint two kilometres from here.' Diana pointed vaguely in the direction of the city.

'How did you know it was my board?' I asked.

'Well, I thought it looked like yours,' she bent to pat the dog, 'so I hung around watching him. And when he stopped to get a drink of water I sidled past and . . . took a look. Your name was written on the underneath, near the back wheels.'

'Jeez.' What the hell could I say to that? My name was written under the board in fluorescent yellow paint. She was right. There was something totally weird about this. But I was too surprised to say anything. It must have shown on my face.

'Yeah, that's what I thought.' Diana gave me a faint smile of triumph. 'Did you tell your dad about Nan's friend seeing those guys pinching your stuff?'

'No . . . I didn't.' I felt stupid admitting that I hadn't told anyone. Why hadn't I told Dad? Because I'd sort of forgotten, and I hadn't really wanted to mention Diana to anyone in the family – even Dad.