Woodlington

Chapter One - The Joys of Travelling

Alex was hot.

No, hot didn't even begin to cover it. She was boiling.

She was also out of sorts.

The bus she was on had no air conditioning, and for some reason there was a long strip of glass running the length of its roof. The sun, blazing down from a cloudless sky, seemed to have settled directly above her.

She wiped the sweat from her face with the bottom of her tee-shirt, and silently groaned. It was only eleven o'clock, what was it going to be like in a couple of hours?

Before setting off, the driver had cheerfully (at least that's how she remembered it) explained how the air conditioner had packed in the day before. He'd then assured them he'd opened every window possible and guaranteed them a pleasant trip.

Alex ground her teeth at the memory.

For a while she'd daydreamed about boiling him in a giant soup pan, telling him he needn't worry - after all, she'd left the lid off so he could have a pleasant time.

Not only was the bus hot however, it was also crowded. Every seat had been taken – well not the one next to her mother of course. No-one ever sat next to her mother; there simply wasn't room.

Mrs Dowling (as she was known to everyone else) was at least a yard wide. Although her right hip was pressed against the side of the bus, her left spilled into the isle.

Apparently she had 'big bones'.

Alex thought she was just big.

She wiped her forehead again.

"Alex!"

Turning, she found her mother glaring at her through the gap in the seats.

"Use your handkerchief. You're thirteen for goodness sake!"

"Haven't got one."

"Of course you have, I packed it last night. It's in the side pocket of your bag."

Biting her tongue, Alex reached down and hoisted the backpack onto her lap. Sure enough the handkerchief was there.

She creased her face into an exaggerated smile and swivelled.

"Oh mother, thank you so much. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Mrs Dowling's mouth thinned.

"Are you trying to be funny?"

Alex raised her eyebrows.

"Course not. This is just what I need."

She dabbed her face gently.

Her mother grunted and leaned back.

Alex, along with the handkerchief, dropped the smile.

'Can't even wipe my face with a tee-shirt', she thought angrily. 'Just what can I do?'

But even Alex couldn't keep it up today. She was suffering too much.

She glanced at Jack, the boy sitting next to her.

Like his mother, he was also overweight.

Feeling her gaze, the boy paused, hand halfway to his packet of crisps, and looked at her.

"Do you have to keep eating?"

His hand continued its journey, and a second later his mouth was bulging.

Alex winced; watching him eat was like watching a cement mixer churning up giant poppadums.

She spent the next few minutes trying to block out the sounds he made, not helped when he suddenly sneezed, spraying her leg with a mass of chewed up crisps.