Dudley's Heartache
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Her name was Rose. That much Dudley knew. She had moved in next door a week ago. His mother had invited the family over for dinner tonight – it was only polite, she had said.
Dudley had heard his father say that she only wanted someone new to gossip about.
Freak had been taken to batty old Mrs. Figg's for the evening. That was a good thing, Dudley thought. He'd be able to play with Rose on his own. Dudley had prepared his most favourite toys for the occasion.
When the door rang at last, Dudley stumbled rapidly down the stairs, his rotund belly jiggling with every voracious step.
Dinner was a boring affair with the grown ups talking about stupid things that didn't matter. Rose's father was a businessman, so they had to travel a lot. He had assured them they would be staying in Little Whinging for at least two months.
"Oh, how wonderful! Diddydums, Rose will be in your class at school, then," his mother had exclaimed.
It was summer, and the last thing Dudley wanted to think about was school. He scowled, and vowed to never let his mother call him Diddydums ever again when Rose politely giggled into her small hand.
Dudley was enchanted. When Rose had flounced up the stairs to his room to play after dinner, her blonde hair had rippled and shone in the light. He could only watch.
When it was time for Rose to leave, he had begged her not to. He tried to bribe her with his favourite action figure. Rose said she really couldn't stay, and he gave it to her anyway.
He didn't play with her much during the summer. She was always busy with piano lessons and calligraphy. Dudley didn't understand those things, but he tried to. His piggy little eyes had exploded with tears when he couldn't make the beautiful letters she could. He snapped his pen in half in his frustration.
School started again, and grade three was as boring as grade two had been. But this year, he had new prospects. Instead of bullying Freak, he spent his time studying for the spelling bee he had entered after Rose told him about it.
He lost with three people left because he was so preoccupied at not seeing her in the audience.
With September on the verge of slipping into October, Dudley was making preparations to go and play with Rose. He had gotten up early, dressed himself (even though his socks didn't match) and made himself breakfast (even if he had put orange juice in his cereal instead of milk; he ate it anyway).
But when he made his way out of his house with a good bye from his mother ("Have fun, Duddykins!") and a manly scowl, he was horrified to see a moving van parked in front of Rose's house. Rose herself was exiting the house with a pink backpack over her slim shoulders. She waved morosely at him as she got into the family's car. He didn't wave back.
There was a roar as the moving van started up and Dudley saw something fall out of the pink backpack as her dad put it in the boot. Dudley knew he hadn't heard it hit the ground because he got into the driver's seat without picking it up.
The van pulled away with a hiss, and the green car pulled out soon after.
Dudley ran to see what had fallen. It was his action figure. He picked it up with a gasp, and started sprinting after the departing family.
"No!" he cried, "You forgot this! Wait, no!"
His chubby legs were shaking as he finally stopped, panting, the car gone from his field of vision. He clutched his figurine to his chest. "Don't go!" he screamed valiantly through his hoarse throat. He knew they couldn't hear him, but he screamed anyway.
"No! No no no …" he trailed off sobbing, "Don' go …!" Tears were spilling down his face onto his sunny yellow t-shirt, the very one Rose had said she liked on him best.
Little Dudley's heart broke as he cried.