Contents ( 64)
- A Letter from the Author
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- ONE
Oh, God … I bet that’s exactly what Rose is doing right now! I’ve seen her do it when the biscuits come out.
The image is too much for me, and with a sigh I get to my feet. ‘Come on, Elsa,’ I say, picking her up. ‘Let’s go to Fusciardi’s.’
TWENTY-EIGHT
‘Meg,’ calls Rose, ‘over here!’ Just like she promised, she’s saved us a table outside and she’s even arranged four chairs in a semicircle facing the sea. ‘Hey, you’ve brought a baby!’
‘This is my sister, Elsa,’ I say, then I stand there awkwardly, Pongo tugging at the lead and trying to get at a seagull. Now that I’m here, I’m not sure what to do next. Hanging out with friends in cafes isn’t something I get up to on a regular basis.
‘You sit here,’ says Rose, pulling out a chair next to her, ‘and then you can squeeze the pushchair in between us.’
While I tie Pongo’s lead to a chair, Elsa and Rose gaze at each other, wide-eyed, like two bush babies having a stare off. Then Rose sighs deeply. ‘I can’t wait to have a baby.’
‘Seriously?’ I look at Elsa. ‘Are you sure?’
‘And a dog. I’d love to have a dog and a baby.’
I’m tempted to walk off and make her dreams come true, just for a few hours, but that would be too cruel. ‘They’re both pretty annoying,’ I say. ‘Especially this one.’ I point at Elsa. ‘She bites.’
‘I think she’s absolutely beautiful.’
‘Rose, she has scabs in her hair!’ I bend over the pushchair and part Elsa’s fluffy hair so she can get a good look at her cradle cap. ‘And have you noticed all the dried snot round her nose? I don’t know how she got the glitter stuck in it.’
‘It makes her look like a fairy,’ says Rose, and her fingers wriggle in Elsa’s direction. ‘A beautiful little sparkly fairy!’
Then I realise what she’s itching to do. ‘You can hold her if you want.’
Immediately, Rose whips Elsa out of the pushchair and up on to her lap. She buries her nose in her hair – clearly she isn’t bothered by the scabs. ‘She smells of babies,’ Rose sighs, ‘the best smell in the world.’
‘If you say so.’ I look around. ‘So, is it just us?’ Part of me sort of hopes it is. I’m getting used to our Biscuit Club now, but meeting up out of school is a whole new level of sociability for me.
‘No. Annie’s over there on that bench.’ I follow her eyes and see Annie sitting with a couple of teenagers. They both look older than her and they’re trying to knock a can over with stones.
‘I guess those are her real friends,’ I say.
Rose nods. ‘I don’t know where Jackson is.’
Annie sees me watching and waves.
‘Does you want ice cream?’ Rose says in a weird voice. ‘Does you?’ I turn round and realise she’s talking to Elsa. ‘Is she allowed ice cream?’ she asks.