It was the day following my big row with Dad. My latest big row with Dad. Me and Honey were on our way back from school. We were the ones that lived furthest away, so it was just the two of us left on the bus. Kirsty had stayed on for something: the drama club or whatever. Not for a detention! Little Goody Two-Shoes never got detention. I was the one that got those. “I mean…” Honey lowered her voice to a whisper. “Where?” “We could always go and stay with Darcy,” I said. I’d been fantasising like mad all night. I’d got it all worked out–well, the broad details. “All we’d have to do is just get ourselves down to London, then jump on a tube train. I know how to do it! I’ve been down to London, I’ve been on a tube. ’S easy! They’ve got maps and everything.” Honey gazed at me, doubtfully. She had her lower lip all bunched up and was gnawing at it like a rabbit. “Stop doing that,” I said. “It makes you look daft!” Honey was really pretty, far prettier than me, but she had this kind of vacant expression she sometimes put on, like her brain had gone to mush.
