Tuesday

On Tuesday afternoon, Amber put twenty shampoo bottles on the stall.  Fifteen of them were the usual golden-brown colour, but the other five were bright green and labelled Limited Edition- Alien Formula.

Mrs Denham, who’d come round to check everyone’s stall before the Year Eights were allowed in, looked at the green shampoo and frowned.  “This is not what you were told to sell, Amber.”

Amber, who’d been expecting this, smiled.  “We’re developing our brand identity, like you said.  We’re trying to stand out from the market.”  Amber was really, really proud of her alien idea.  Cousin Hope had just wanted to add red food dye so it wouldn’t look as if it had been watered down, but then Amber had seen that they had the green kind left over from Halloween, too.  She’d wanted to add it to all the bottles, but Gwen had persuaded her to start with five and see how well they sold.  That was probably best.

“Amber, you were given a specific product to sell…”

“It’s the same product,” interrupted Harry Barnes, the third member of Amber and Gwen’s group.  He hadn’t been the biggest fan of their idea, mainly because he was worried they’d get into trouble for the watering-things-down aspect, so Amber was pleased to hear him speak up.  “The green food dye’s just a marketing gimmick.  People can still wash their hair with it, same as before.”

Unable to think of a suitable put-down, Mrs Denham stared at the green bottles for a good twenty seconds.  “Just don’t forget what this contest us all about,” she said eventually, “It’s not about how creative you can be; it’s about how much you can sell.”  And, with that, she wandered off to annoy somebody else.

Gwen smiled at the others.  “Well, that could have gone a lot worse.  Thanks for sticking up for us there, Harry.”

Harry folded his arms and made a grumbling sound.  “If you get disqualified, so do I, remember.”

Amber glanced over at Kayleigh Collier’s stall, but luckily Kayleigh and her team didn’t seem to have heard any of the alien shampoo discussion.  They were too occupied with throwing screwed-up bits of paper at Fiona West and giving themselves points when they hit her on the head (Fiona and her brother Ben were the only people in 9F who’d had to go into a two instead of a three, so they were a bit of a soft target.)  They’d find out eventually, especially if the green shampoo turned out to give Amber’s group an edge, but at least they had a head start for now.  “Harry?” asked Amber, “If me and Gwen stay here and make a start on the selling, could you dash back to the IT rooms and put together some posters to advertise the alien shampoo?”

Harry brightened up.  He’d been complaining all yesterday afternoon about being stuck in the loud, crowded main hall for hours.  “I think I could come up with something.”

“Brilliant,” said Gwen, “We’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone.”  She looked over at Kayleigh Collier’s table, where they’d started to squabble over who got to throw the paper next, and grinned.

 *

Harry took a while to get back, but that was OK.  The alien shampoo had started to draw a crowd almost immediately.  OK, it was a crowd of Year Eights, who tended to hedge their bets and look at every stall in the main hall before they parted with even one of their Denham Dollars, but still, by the time Harry got back from sticking the posters up around the hall, they’d managed to sell four green bottles and two regular ones.

Kayleigh Collier and her friends had definitely noticed by now.  It was hard to miss the crowd that had gathered around Gwen and Amber’s stall.  Even the Year Eights that Kayleigh and Paige had jumped in front of and tried to draw in with their rap number (“We’ve got home-wax and shampoo, bracelets galore / If you want to wow your mates, shop at Stall 24!”) had tended to step around them and continue on their way to the stall with the green bottles.  As the afternoon wore on, Kayleigh spent more and more time glaring a hole through the back of Amber and Gwen’s heads.

After he’d stuck all the posters up, Harry returned with some news.  “Did you know that Kayleigh Collier has a sister in Year Eight?”

Amber cringed.  “Uh-oh…”

“She’s called Tessa,” said Harry, “She’s got a gang of friends together, and they’re going round guilting other Year Eight girls into giving her their Denham Dollars.”

“Guilting them?”

“You know…”  Harry raised his voice to mimic an annoying Year Eight girl.  “Tessa just wants her sister to be happy. Come on, don’t you want Tessa and her sister to be happy?  Do you really need shampoo and combs and ceramic frogs that badly?  Tessa and her sister have actually had a really hard time lately, and all Tessa wants is for her sister to do well in the competition.  You’re taking that away from them just because you want ceramic frogs.  And then eventually the other girls give them their Denham Dollars just to shut them up,” Harry concluded, snorting in disgust.

Amber considered this.  “Has Kayleigh had a really hard time lately?” she asked.

“Who cares?” muttered Gwen, “We have a really hard time every time we get within a mile of her.”

Harry shrugged.  “I don’t know.  But I wouldn’t take her sister’s word for it, either way.”

Amber nodded.  She looked over at Kayleigh, still glaring at them, then turned back to the others.  “I think we might have to go back to Cousin Hope’s first idea.”

Monday 

Amber tried to explain that they weren’t allowed outside help, but Cousin Hope wouldn’t listen.  She’d got that stubborn look as soon as she’d heard what Kayleigh Collier had done.

“Right,” said Cousin Hope, putting her hands on her hips, “Run this past me again.  This week’s Enterprise Week, which means that everyone gets a big bag of crap…”

“It’s not all crap,” Amber’s friend Gwen interjected, “Some people get shampoo and makeup, and some people…”

“Like I said, everyone gets a big bag of crap.”  Cousin Hope was twelve years older than Amber and Gwen, so they didn’t argue.  “And for the rest of this week, you’ve got to advertise and sell your particular crap to the Year Eights, but they aren’t allowed to give you any actual money.  Only…  What were they called?”

“Denham Dollars,” said Gwen.  She opened up her bag and took out the paltry nine they’d managed to earn today.  Most of the other groups had got at least thirty.  “Because Mrs Denham’s the head of Business Studies, and it was her idea.”

Cousin Hope picked up one of the Denham Dollars and inspected it.  She didn’t look impressed, probably because it looked more like a purple raffle ticket than actual money.  “Your dad is not going to like that she called them ‘dollars’ instead of ‘pounds’,” she told Amber.

“She only called them that for the alliteration,” explained Amber, “There isn’t anyone in the Business Studies department whose name begins with P.”

Cousin Hope shrugged, and she handed the Denham Dollar back.  “Well, it looks easy enough to forge, whatever it’s called.  All we need is a scanner and a pack of purple construction paper.”

Amber frowned.

Cousin Hope raised her eyebrows.  “Too unethical?”

“Two wrongs don’t make a right,” mumbled Gwen.  She didn’t sound too enthusiastic, but Amber knew she meant it.  Winning the contest by printing off hundreds of Denham Dollars just seemed… cheap, somehow.  Too easy.  It would take all the fun out of it.

“If you say so.”  Cousin Hope clasped her hands together and stretched.  “But we’ve got to think of something, or Kayleigh Collier and her friends will walk away with the prize and never learn a thing.  How many shampoo bottles have you got left?”

They had fifteen.  They’d been given twenty this morning, and they’d actually managed to sell two, early on.  The other three had been the ones Kayleigh Collier had stolen.

If they’d been allowed to choose for themselves where their stalls were going to go, Amber’s group would have done just about anything to avoid being next to Kayleigh’s.  She was one of those people who wasn’t happy unless someone else was miserable.  It didn’t seem to matter who it was- she was just as content trying to trip up the boy with the stammer in Maths as she was pouring Dr Pepper all over Paige Williams’ bag for flirting with a boy she liked.  If there was a small, subtle way of getting at someone, one that wouldn’t cause a huge amount of trouble but would make their day just a tiny bit worse, Kayleigh was in her element.  Amber was pretty sure that Kayleigh did want to win the Enterprise Week contest, but she knew that hadn’t been her only reason for doing what she’d done.  Kayleigh did stuff like that just for the sake of it.

Amber had barely turned her back for two seconds, and when she’d looked back round, her stall had two shampoo bottles fewer and Kayleigh’s had two more.  And, just in case she hadn’t noticed, Kayleigh had looked away and let out a low, snorting giggle.  Gwen had gone straight to Mrs Denham, but she’d been no help.  Kayleigh had given her big innocent eyes, and Mrs Denham had told Gwen and Amber that a poor workman blamed his tools.  And for the rest of the day, Kayleigh had just grinned at them.

Cousin Hope picked up a shampoo bottle, held it between two fingers, and examined it.  “It doesn’t look exactly like the little pots of jellybeans they sell at the corner shop, but it’s close enough.”  She reached into her back pockets, fetched out some change, and handed it to Amber.  “Go to the shop and get me five loads of jellybeans.”  She shook the shampoo bottle.  “We’re going to start watering this stuff down.”