Cold as Ice: Keri Series, #4

By Jenni Francis

It's hard enough when your parents separate, but when they form new relationships, everything changes again. Keri's mother has met a new man and he has two children, Sara and Thomas. Sara, who is a couple of years older than Keri, makes it clear that they will never be best friends. Keri is content to leave it that way, but Sara's behaviour gets worse, and it's not just teenage moodiness.

On a family ski holiday Keri finds herself in a dangerous situation. Sara's younger brother Thomas has skied off into out-of-bounds terrain because of something Sara said to him in anger. Keri seems to be the only one who can save him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jenni Francis
• Release date: Jan 22, 2017
• ISBN: 9780473370022

Jenni Francis

Jenni Francis lives in New Zealand. She lives on five acres, with an orchard, sheep and a river. She has a cat named Tui, who is very greedy, and who doesn't love children. Which is a shame, as she has twelve grandchildren.Jenni has been writing for about 20 years, and loves to write children's stories. She has six books of the 'Keri' series published so far, and is writing book seven. The main character, Keri, finds herself in difficult situations. Her friends don't always agree with what she does, but they are always there for her in the end.She also has a book of short stories for boys. Not girls.

Book preview

Chapter 1

So, you win a scholarship to a posh high school and what you get are posh kids. The first week Mereana and I felt like aliens. Thirteen years old and dropped into a totally different environment than we were used to. Mereana and I came from a nice suburb on the edge of a poorer part of town. We had been to school with a mix of kids from all nationalities and income levels. It had been a good education. We had both won scholarships to a school in a much richer part of the town. We felt totally out of it.

During the second week Mereana and I were eavesdropping on a conversation between some older girls sitting nearby.

Did you see Amber coming to school this morning? one of them asked.

Oh my god, that car! He nearly took out Mr Atkins’ old heap.

Yeah. It’s Amber’s new boyfriend, Bryn Morgan. His dad bought him the car for Christmas. Amber thinks she’s cool, but I heard he’s getting ready to dump her.

It’s a Ferrari, but it’s not new. James got a brand new Ferrari Spider for passing his exams.

Well, what would you expect? His father is Managing Director. I heard he made millions on the stock exchange last year.

What’s a stock exchange? I whispered to Mereana.

I don’t know much about it, but I think you buy shares or something.

Oh, I said, none the wiser. It’s like learning a whole new language. I feel like I’m in a strange land.

It’ll get easier. Lucky we’ve got each other. Look at that poor kid over there.

Along from us, scrunched as small as she could get, sat a girl I could only describe as dorky. She was little, with a thin face and old-fashioned wire rimmed glasses which kept slipping down her nose. Her uniform didn’t just look second hand, it looked about fourth hand. I’d seen her in my Art class, but I hadn’t spoken to her at all. The one class I had received the scholarship for, the subject I loved turned out to be the one I dreaded most. Miss Griffiths may have been a talented artist, but she was an unpleasant teacher.

The bell rang for the end of lunch.

What have you got now? I asked Mereana.

Japanese, then biology, then English. You?

English, then double art.

Oh no! Oh well, set yourself a challenge. That you will be really, really nice to at least one person in that class, then you won’t think how much you don’t want to be there.

Yeah, maybe, I picked up my bag and art folder and headed in the opposite direction.

I tried. As I entered the Art Room, I thought about sitting next to the girl with the glasses. I thought about asking her name. There was a spare seat beside her. Just as I hesitated, and turned away, Miss Griffiths came in right behind me.

Sit down girl, she said roughly. Look, there’s a seat there.

And by default I ended up as Mereana had suggested, sitting next to the girl with the glasses. She looked at me out the corner of her eye and then turned away.

Hi, I said to her.

Who’s talking? We haven’t even started, and already someone is talking! Miss Griffiths’ fizzy hair bounced all over the place in agitation as she looked wildly around the room. I put my head down and vowed to never speak in that class again. The girl beside me sighed.

I endured the next two sessions with hardly an original thought or action to show it was supposed to be art.

It took until the beginning of Term 2 for Mereana and me to realise that not all of the girls were snooty. By that time we were at least talking to a few people in our classes. The weather was starting to get cooler and there had already been some snow on the mountains. The trees around the perimeter of the school were turning beautiful shades of red, gold and orange. I stopped to collect some one day, and put them in a flower press, for use on an art project.

One Friday, when I got home from a particularly bad day at school (I’d made a complete idiot of myself in French class), I found my Mum in a mood I can only describe as weird. She had this silly look on her face and she bounced around the house as I’d never seen her before.

Finally, in exasperation, I asked her, What is your problem?

No problem! she practically sang.

Well, why are you acting so strange?

I’ve got a date! she said, and she giggled.

You’ve got to be joking?

No. True. I’m not joking. A man has asked me to go out with him. How do you like that?

I don’t, I think, I replied. Who is he and where did you meet him?

You sound like my mother, instead of my daughter, she giggled again. "Well, ‘I met him at the candy store," she sang.

I sighed. It was a really old song my Nana sometimes sang along with the radio.

No actually, he came into the pharmacy and we got talking and then he came back the next week and he asked me out. Does it bother you?

I guess not, I replied dubiously. When are you going?

Next weekend, when you and the boys go to your father’s for the weekend.

Hmm, I said as I went to put my bag away in my bedroom.

Mum worked part time in a pharmacy. She had been working there since she and my Dad split up. Between working, looking after my two brothers and me, and keeping an eye on my grandparents I wouldn’t have thought she’d have time to meet anyone. Or want to, come to that.

On the following Saturday morning, when Dad came to pick us up, Mum was already in a tizzy.

Blue dress or red dress? Black pants or jeans? Or green dress? Oh, darn it, Keri, do you have to go? Can’t you stay and help me decide?

Sorry, Mum. Netball. I scurried out of there as fast as I could, leaping into the car ahead of the boys.

What’s the matter with your mother? Dad asked.

She’s got a date tonight, and she can’t decide what to wear.

I looked at Dad as I said it, and to my surprise, he looked sad.

What? I asked him. You’ve got Beth, why should you be sad?

I guess … I think … I don’t know. It just seems sad that things don’t turn out how you think they will. That’s all. he shrugged his shoulders.

You’re not the only one! I scowled. It still hurt that he and Mum were not living together.

I know, he said. I get it. And I really am sorry.

Whatever, I said as I slouched down in the seat.

William and Nicky were fighting in the back seat over a piece of Lego, which brought the conversation to a close.

We got to meet the new man about a month later. His name was Rob Johnson and he was something high up in a big company in town.

He seemed nice enough; nice looking in an old way, and he talked to us as ordinary kids, not like some people do in a baby way, or pretend we don’t exist. He was separated or divorced or whatever and he had two kids.

Thinking about that later, it occurred to me that this was different to Dad meeting Beth. Beth didn’t have any children. It had taken me quite a while to get comfortable with my step-mother. I still couldn’t even think of her as that. She was Dad’s girlfriend, as far as I was concerned. If Mum and Rob stayed an item we might end up with step-brothers and sisters. Now that was weird.

Chapter 2

On the day when Miss Griffiths was sick, we had the most amazing art lesson. A young substitute teacher was waiting in the classroom when we arrived, and she had piles of boxes, craft paper, all manner of chalks, paints, crayons and pastels, and a large sign on the board. It said

Art is the Daughter of Freedom

That, right there, opened my heart and my soul.

I sat down on the nearest chair and looked and looked at that quote. Around me the room filled with people, talking, laughing and pulling things out of bags.

Okay people. Can I have your attention?

The substitute teacher smiled (smiled!) at everyone. My name is Andi Foster. I’m here for the week, as Miss Griffiths is unwell. The quote you see behind me is one of my favourites, and what I’d like you to do is spend a couple of minutes thinking about it, and then applying that quote to a construction that relates to sport. Any sport; any sporting activity. Because to my mind, if you have freedom, you also have the freedom to participate in physical activities that make your heart sing. That’s what I’d like you to illustrate with your construction. Spend a couple of minutes thinking about it, then come and choose from here the items you need to create it. Any questions?

This was what I hoped art would be like. Finally, a chance to express myself. I sat and thought about when