Missing Ellen Read Online Free PDF Page A

of red. Mum came over with the boots in a big box inside a bag, and said somethingabout the box coming in handy for storing my art stuff. I put the runner back, wondering if they made them with different coloured lights, or was it always red. Mum asked if I’d rather carry the boots myself, but I shook my head, and we left the shop and walked back towards the car.
    I’m wearing the boots now. I can see them in the mirror at the end of my bed. They’re lovely, and you were right, they are much cooler than the black, and who cares about being practical? But somehow the excitement is gone. It’s an anti-climax or something. They’re just boots after all.
    Your friend,
    Maggie.
    The bell was ringing for the end of break but I ignored it. ‘What do you mean?’ I asked her, half excited, half nervous.
    ‘Just look at us!’ Ellen said, preening in front of the mirror. ‘We look fabulous. At least seventeen. I bet we could pass for eighteen with make-up on. How could we waste this on a silly teen disco we’ve been to thousands of times before?’
    ‘But what else is there?’ I realised I sounded stupid, but I really didn’t know what Ellen had in mind.
    She pulled a poster out of her schoolbag. ‘I took this from a noticeboard in town. There’s a band playing in a pub just down the road from the disco. Flaming Moes, have you heard of them? They’re fantastic.’ She started humming some song I’d never heard of. 
    ‘Sounds cool,’ I said, taking the poster out of her hand. ‘But there’s no way my parents would let me go to a pub. There’s no point in even asking.’
    Ellen laughed. ‘Who said anything about asking? We’ll just get one of our mums to drop us at the disco as usual. We’ll go in the front door and straight out the back door and down to the pub. Easy peasy. We can be back at the disco again before it’s over.’
    I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of this. I didn’t like lying to my mum. And I was the kind of person who always ended up getting caught. Plus, sad though it was, I was actually looking forward to the disco – especially if I could wear Ellen’s new purple top. The disco was on every couple of weeks in the tennis club near the school, and was a strictly no alcohol zone. Liam would be there, and his friends of course. Ellen had said she thought one of his friends liked me. I didn’t know which one but thought that I might find out at the disco.
    Ellen sensed my hesitation. ‘Oh come on, Maggie, say you’ll come! They’re such a cool band, I know you’ll like them.’
    ‘I’m not sure. What if we don’t get in? What if someone notices we’re not at the disco and asks our mums where we were? What if there’s someone we know at the pub? What if …?’ I trailed off. I think I’d run out of disasters.
    ‘Maggie you are such a worrier,’ Ellen laughed. ‘Live dangerously for once!
Carpe diem
and all that. What’s the worst thing that can happen?’
    The corridor outside was quiet. Everyone must be back in their classrooms by now. If we didn’t hurry we’d be late for geography.
    I didn’t want to be a party pooper. ‘OK then,’ I said, ‘if you really want to.’
    ‘Excellent! It’ll be fab, I promise! Now hurry up, I don’t want you to start giving out that I made you late for geography !’ Ellen grabbed my hand and rushed me out of the bathroom just as she’d rushed me in ten minutes earlier, stuffing the tops back into her bag any old way as she went. Now they’d need to be ironed before we could wear them. Oh well.
    Dear Ellen,
    Sunday afternoon. I’m supposed to be doing my maths homework. But these triangles and trapeziums and so on aren’t making any sense to me. My mind is like one of those scribbles Jamie used to do at playschool and Mum would proudly stick to the fridge – a jumble of lines and colours, all going in different directions and doubling back on themselves – and I can’t make any straight lines out of