The Bex Factor Read Online Free PDF Page A

before. But
that’s not going to happen, is it? So you’d better get used to it. And I’ll tell you what’s unfair: me being like this. I just feel so . . . useless .’
    Emily cowers by the dishwasher. ‘Mummy, don’t.’
    But I’m too slow to stop Mum sweeping the fruit bowl off the table. A mountain of organic kiwis tumbles onto the kitchen floor.
    After I’ve wrapped the splinters of shattered glass in The Financial Times , cleared away the supper things, dragged the wheelie bin to the bottom of the driveway
and helped Emily with her evacuee’s diary, we all sit on the sofa and watch EastEnders .
    ‘God, their lives are so miserable.’ says Mum, sipping her second cup of camomile tea.
    Emily is clutching the stuffed rabbit thing that she still insists on sleeping with. ‘Are you all right now, Mum?’
    ‘I’m fine,’ says Mum, stroking Emily’s hair. ‘Look, I’m really sorry, guys. I get so angry sometimes.’
    ‘It’s OK, Mum,’ says Emily, kissing her on the cheek. ‘We know you don’t mean it, don’t we, Matthew?’
    ‘Eh . . . what?’ I’m miles away. Well, about a mile and a half as the crow flies, but right now, Bex’s bedroom seems like another universe.
    Mum just smiles. ‘The trick is to stay positive. Not to behave like a victim. Which reminds me, you haven’t forgotten about Saturday have you, Matthew?’
    ‘Forgotten what?’
    ‘We’re collecting outside Sainsbury’s.’
    It’s the only time she ever leaves the house. I’ve done my best to forget about it, but the thought of another wet weekend in Sainsbury’s car park is suddenly more than I can
bear.
    ‘I’m sorry, Mum. I won’t be able make it this time.’
    ‘What do you mean you won’t be able to make it?’
    ‘Look, don’t worry, I’ll be back in time for tea.’
    ‘Back from where?’
    Suddenly it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. ‘From London. I’m going to audition for The Tingle Factor with my imaginary girlfriend.’

Matthew

    I’m standing on the steps outside the exhibition centre, underneath a giant inflatable of The Tingle Factor logo, watching a half-empty pleasure boat ploughing
through the Thames.
    I had to get out of the holding area. We’ve been there all day. Bex is OK I guess, but why did she have to bring her whole family with her? If you ’ d spent an hour in
the back of a van with Kyle McCrory attempting to fart the theme tune from Star Wars , and an equally flatulent baby, you’d know why I need some fresh air.
    But it’s not just that. When I’m with the McCrorys, it reminds me of Mum and Dad. Or how they used to be, anyway. The first time we came to London, we took an open-top bus ride and
Mum pretended to be all embarrassed when Dad did a funny commentary for the Japanese tourists.
    What am I playing at? I promised myself I wouldn’t waste another second thinking about him. Why would anyone in their right mind spend half their waking hours daydreaming about the man who
ruined their life?
    London’s a big place, I know, but wherever he is, he’s only a tube ride away. It would be so easy. I’ve still got his new address in the bottom of my guitar case. When he gave
it to me, I tore it up and chucked it straight in the recycling bin. I only sellotaped it back together in case I wanted to stick dogshit through his letterbox or something. And in my head,
I’m halfway to the tube station when I notice a black, hooded figure, gliding up the steps.
    If this was a movie, we’d just be arriving at the slow motion sequence with the cool indie soundtrack. Dad vanishes, like a ‘stubborn stain’ zapped by the latest biological
washing powder and an ice-cold finger doodles its way up my spine. I don’t do girls, but if I did, they’d probably look a bit like the one in the long black coat coming towards me, her
pale skin so smooth she makes Bex look like the dark side of the moon, her blood red lips forming a strange smile that mesmerises me the moment she gets