I, Spy? (Sophie Green Mysteries, No. 1) (Sophie Green Mystery)

eat all kinds of meat until I was six, when I saw my first adorable baby lamb and asked my mother what it was.
    “Lunch,” she answered, and I’ve not eaten meat since.
    Chalker was explaining this to Jeni, with rather more emphasis on me being really weird, and telling her that he ate chickens “because they’re stupid”.
    I gave him a look. “Then you might as well eat Norma,” I said, and from under the table, the dog gave a sigh. No one knew what breed she really was. She was just pretty and blonde and really stupid, and she’d roll on her back to have her tummy tickled by just about anybody.
    Really, she was Chalker’s ideal woman.
    After tea, Chalker got a text from Tom, the singer in his band. Then Tom turned up, apparently to pick up a CD but really to check out Jeni. Chalker had by this point got his guitar out to impress Jeni, and then he handed it over to Tom and started on the piano to really rub it in. Before I really realised how late it was, it was midnight and we were still singing Beatles songs.
    “Oh my God,” Jeni squeaked, “I have to go to college tomorrow.”
    I blinked at her, feeling cruel. “Which college is that, Jeni?”
    She gave me a defiant stare. “Cambridge.”
    Hardly. At dinner she’d said she adored The Importance of Being Ernest , and when my mother asked if she was an Oscar Wilde fan, Jeni had looked blank and said, “Was he the butler?”
    “Really? What are you reading?”
    Her pretty brow creased. Dear me , I thought, better stop that or you’ll get wrinkles. In, say, twenty years’ time.
    “Well, my main text book is Modern Business . It’s sooo heavy. It really makes my back ache!”
    Since a glossy magazine would probably double her body weight, I wasn’t surprised.
    “Are you doing a business degree, then?” I asked, poisonously. I’d seen that book at school—at school —and it most definitely was not a degree-level tome. In fact, Norma Jean could have critiqued it.
    I caught Tom’s eye. He was trying hard not to laugh.
    “Well,” Jeni said, “maybe, once I’ve got my GNVQ.”
    I bit my lip and couldn’t trust myself to say anything.
    “A GNVQ is equivalent to two A levels,” Chalker said.
    “How would you know?” I asked pleasantly. “You never got any.”
    Chalker scowled, and I got up for more wine. My family was great, so long as you have been healthily immunised with alcohol.
    Tom followed me into the kitchen. “What is she, sixteen?” I asked.
    “Seventeen,” he replied, “she says.”
    “She’s such a child!”
    Tom grinned. “You want to know the best bit?”
    I nodded eagerly.
    “It’s not even advanced GVNQ. It’s intermediate. She failed all her GCSEs.”
    I put my hands to my mouth. That was fabulous.
    When we were at school, we called a GNVQ Generally Not Very Qualified. If you did A levels then you had to do three subjects and fill your timetable up, but the GNVQ lot rolled up for about three hours a day, including study periods. Plus, it was generally acknowledged that any qualification in business meant nothing. It was like on The Secret of My Success when Brantley finds out his college qualifications will only get him a job in the mail room.
    Jeni left soon after to get her beauty sleep before going off to chew her pencil at Cambridge Regional (not quite the same as King’s) in the morning. Tom crashed out on the floor in Chalker’s room. I went upstairs and found Tammy asleep on my pillow, looking all lost and helpless.
    “It’s okay, baby.” I scooped her up and she wriggled against me, all warm and sleepy and adorable. “The nasty scary people won’t get you here.”
    She curled up in the crook of my arm and went back to sleep instantly. I lay awake, somewhat harder to convince.

Chapter Six
     
    I was woken by Tammy licking my nose at half past six. My dad gets up early to go to work and usually feeds Norma Jean before he goes. I guess Tammy remembered the early breakfast from when we both lived here.
    I pushed her on the floor and tried to get back to sleep.
    Tammy burrowed under the covers and settled on my back, kneading and purring. It would have been a great free massage except that she has really sharp claws. I extracted her from the duvet and pulled it right up to my chin.
    Tammy sat on my chest and started patting my nose.
    I was about to give up when I heard Dad get up and go downstairs. Tammy bolted after him and I sank blissfully back into sleep. Ah, wonderful sleep. I love to sleep.