Penelope had a pretty good idea, but she was hoping for another clue just so she could be sure. Unfortunately, Alison Cromwell’s hand shot up before Ms Pike could give them another clue.
‘A glass bottle, Ms Pike,’ Alison suggested. ‘And it might even have been a special glass bottle. With a message inside.’
This was exactly what Penelope’s guess would have been, but Alison was too quick. Sometimes Alison could be a bit too competitive for Penelope’s liking.
‘Aye aye, what a good guess, Alison,’ Ms Pike said.
‘Hey, let’s read the message now. Maybe it’s a luuurve letter from your fiancé, Ms Pike,’ Joanna (the naughtiest girl in the class) yelled very loudly. Penelope covered her ears. Joanna sat at Penelope’s table, so this was often necessary. When Joanna turned around and made kissy lips at her crush, Alex Gabriel, Penelope wished she had shut her eyes too.
‘Settle down, Joanna. That comment was not appropriate. And remember the hands-up rule, please,’ Ms Pike said. (Penelope couldn’t count how many times Ms Pike had said exactly that to Joanna.) ‘I’d like you to imagine what it might say. The task is to write your very own message for a bottle.’
Ms Pike turned around and found a space on the board.
How old do you think the note might be?
Who wrote it?
Why?
What might happen next?
‘Think about these questions, everyone,’ Ms Pike said. ‘If you want, you can come up here. Run your fingers through the sand and touch the bottle for inspiration. For homework tonight, I’d like you to find a way to make your note look old. Tomorrow we’ll share our messages.’
Penelope was pleased with the task – she had a Very Good imagination. But she wasn’t a big fan of sand. She remembered days at the beach with her mum and Harry, when sand got lodged between her toes and in her hair. She knew what sand felt like. It was Very Unpleasant. So she stayed in her seat.
Penelope watched as other kids in the class went to the front of the room. Oscar dug both hands into the sand and came out holding a very nice shell. Oscar loved everything to do with nature. Penelope wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d pulled out a live crab! But it was a little alarming when Alison Cromwell stuck her right hand in the sand, spread her left hand over her forehead and closed her eyes for a very long time. It looked like she was being CARRIED AWAY by her fantastic imagination. (Alison could be a bit of a show-off that way. She might have got a better mark than Penelope in last week’s creative writing task, but Penelope was still the biggest award-winner in the ENTIRE school.)
Penelope closed her eyes (without spreading her hand over her forehead, which was absolutely unnecessary). She was sure that an excellent idea would arrive very soon.
Unfortunately, the excellent idea that Penelope knew would arrive still hadn’t come by the time the final bell rang.
On Monday nights Penelope’s mum did hot yoga, so she wasn’t there when Penelope got home. Harry was upstairs in his room (Penelope deduced that, because she could hear the thunk thunk thunk of a ball hitting the wall). Penelope prepared a glass of Milo and two chocolate biscuits for afternoon tea. This was a Desperate Measure. Normally she would have something healthier, but she needed to stir up a Very Good Idea.
Penelope sat at the kitchen table. She opened the laptop and typed ‘Message in a bottle’, hoping something would spark an idea, when a pop-up appeared at the bottom of the screen. On it was a picture of a man with a very bushy beard.
Penelope nearly choked on her biscuit.
‘Hey, don’t hog the whole packet,’ Harry said as he came in, clearly more concerned about how many biscuits were left than about his sister practically choking. Before Penelope could reply, ANOTHER pop-up appeared.
This time, the picture was of a man with short hair and sticky-out ears.
Penelope’s jaw must have dropped quite dramatically because Harry (who wasn’t nearly as good at deducing as Penelope) realised something was up.
‘Geez,’ he said as he came over to the table, ‘looks like Mum’s email might have been hacked.’
Penelope shook her head. ‘You know, Harry,’ she said slowly, ‘last night when Zoe was here, Mum started registering on a dating site. I was hoping she’d forget about it. But I’m pretty sure that’s why Busy Business Man just sent her a kiss.’
‘No way,’ Harry said, his voice sounding a bit weird. ‘Mum doesn’t want a boyfriend. Everything is fine the way it is. If she ever did want a boyfriend, we’d know about it, right? God, it would be terrible if some random guy started coming over here, trying to be our dad. That would be the absolute WORST. Anyway, I’m pretty sure Mum wouldn’t be that selfish.’
That, plus the way Harry’s eyebrows reached together so they were almost touching, made Penelope think Harry hated the idea of their mum dating even more than she did.
‘I’m not sure it’s selfish if Mum wants to date,’ Penelope said softly. ‘Maybe she feels like she’s missing out on stuff.’
Harry thought for a moment. ‘Well, whatever she’s missing out on, WE can give it to her,’ he said.
Penelope nodded vigorously. Most of the time, it was like Harry was from a different planet. He certainly wasn’t SENSITIVE like Penelope. But finally, when it was MOST IMPORTANT, it seemed like they were on the same page.
This was Plan B! And Penelope hadn’t even had to convince Harry to get on board!
‘Right, Harry,’ Penelope said. Even though she was anxious to start on her message in a bottle, this was more urgent. ‘Let’s make a list.’
‘Hi Mum,’ Penelope said, jumping up as soon as their mum opened the front door. ‘How was yoga? You look so HEALTHY and FRESH.’
‘Let me take your gym bag. It looks heavy,’ Harry added.
‘Well, thank you. Both of you,’ their mum said, looking a bit puzzled, but pleased. ‘I should go to yoga more often.’
‘Oh, but then we’d miss you,’ Penelope said. She sidled up close to her mum and would have hugged her if she didn’t look quite so sweaty.
‘Would you, Penelope?’ their mum said, looking puzzled again. ‘Is everything okay, you guys?’
‘Totally,’ Harry and Penelope said together.
‘Okay then,’ their mum said. ‘I’ll just go and take a shower.’
‘Sure,’ Harry said. ‘When you get out of the shower, shall we eat dinner while we watch Who Dares? It’ll be just the three of us, eating dinner in front of our favourite show.’
Their mum frowned slightly. ‘But you don’t like that show, Penelope,’ she said. (This was true. It was her mum and Harry’s favourite show, but Penelope thought it was silly.)
‘I’ll give it another try,’ Penelope said. ‘That way we’ll be spending time together as a family.’ She coughed before she added the next bit. ‘A whole, complete happy family. With three people.’
Penelope sat in her favourite armchair and watched people on TV doing strange and dangerous things for no proper reason. Penelope hadn’t changed her mind about the show at all. But it was comforting to look over and see her mum and Harry enjoying it.
Harry and Penelope’s mum were feet-on-the-furniture people. Normally, Penelope thought that was Very Bad Manners. But tonight she didn’t mind at all. And she felt extremely proud of Harry (even though he had a very weird expression on his face) when he put one of their mum’s feet on his lap and started massaging it. Truly, their mum was BOUND to realise there was absolutely nothing missing in her life.
Penelope tensed up. If her mum knew they were being caring and affectionate so she wouldn’t feel the need to date a random stranger, she might not be pleased. ‘Whatever it is,’ she said, switching feet with a long and satisfied sigh, ‘I think I like it.’
Penelope flopped backwards in her chair, relieved. On the screen was a fishing boat. People threw fish heads (yuck) into the sea and soon a great white shark appeared. Then a girl climbed into a cage made of glass and metal, which was lowered into the ocean. Where
the shark was. Penelope would never, not in a million years, do something like that.
But it was then (and this was weird because she wasn’t even trying) that her Very Good Idea finally arrived.
‘Can I sing my message, Ms Pike?’ Tommy Stratton asked on Tuesday morning.
Quite a few people groaned (Tommy Stratton was a TERRIBLE singer), but Penelope was too busy stifling a yawn. Getting sidetracked by Plan B had meant by the time she’d written her message (in very small writing so she could fit a lot of words in) and made it look old (teabag stains and some tearing around the edges) it had been way past her bedtime.
But it had turned out rather well. In fact, Penelope suspected that Ms Pike would be very impressed.
‘Go ahead, Tommy,’ Ms Pike encouraged.
Tommy walked to the front of the room. He threw both hands in the air, then brought them back in front of his chest in a prayer position. It was quite a dramatic start.
‘Whoever finds this message,
help celebrate my life,
My name was Albert Simmons,
oh release me from this strife!’
Penelope had seen opera before, on TV at Grandpa George’s. Opera was when people dressed up and sang whole stories in very high, wavering voices. She supposed that was what Tommy was trying to do (though he sounded terrible, as usual). So Penelope did not block her ears like Joanna did. Penelope listened politely.
‘I was kidnapped from my village
by a tribe of cannibals,
They cooked and then they ate me
like I was an animal.’
Penelope did wonder how Albert Simmons had written his message if he had been cooked and eaten, but she had to admit this was a rather interesting message in a bottle.
‘So please can you remember me,
just send a little flicker,
And my life will have been more
than just a cannibal’s dinner.’
‘Wow, Tommy,’ Ms Pike said after the class had finished clapping. ‘Let’s close our eyes and spare a thought for poor Albert Simmons.’
Tommy looked elated as he walked back to his seat. (Penelope knew that because she took a very tiny peek as he went past.)
‘Who would like to go next?’ Ms Pike asked.
Right beside Penelope, Joanna PUT UP HER HAND!
Ms Pike looked very shocked. Penelope reached over and patted Joanna on the back. She had always suspected that Ms Pike had moved Joanna to her table so Penelope could be a good influence. Perhaps it was finally starting to work?
‘We’d be delighted to hear from you, Joanna,’ Ms Pike said.
Joanna strutted up to Ms Pike’s desk.
‘Dear AG, I hope you find this note. You’re the best ever. I wish I didn’t go swimming and disappear. JT’
Truly, it wasn’t such a great message. Plus, everybody in the class knew that AG was Alex Gabriel and JT was Joanna. But Joanna very rarely did her homework, and NEVER put up her hand, so the class was Very Supportive.
When Ms Pike asked for the next volunteer, Penelope put up her hand (which, by the way, she always remembered to do).
‘Did you like my message in a bottle?’ Penelope asked Bob at recess.
‘Sure,’ Bob said, ‘but it was more like a novel in a bottle.’
‘It was very thorough,’ Penelope agreed. ‘I did a lot of research on great white sharks. I hope Ms Pike could tell.’ Penelope took a deep breath. ‘Do you think it was better than Alison’s? Because, to be honest, I thought the way she made out it was written by a mermaid was a bit too much.’
‘Oh, that reminds me! Jazz has a mermaid costume. She showed it to me on Saturday. She had it in her bag because she was going to a fancy-dress party after karate,’ Bob said.
That had absolutely nothing to do with what Penelope was trying to talk about with her very best friend.
‘That’s nice,’ Penelope said, through clenched teeth. She wished she could fast forward this week. That way, the novelty of Jazz (surely!) would have worn off. But unfortunately, time machines hadn’t been invented yet.
Penelope probably couldn’t have used a time machine even if they HAD been invented. She and Harry still had work to do to make their mum realise there was nothing missing in her life.
Tonight they were going to pull out all the stops.
‘Thanks for the lovely note, Poss,’ her mum said when she arrived home from work. ‘I don’t think too many mums out there get such kind notes in their lunch boxes from their daughters.’
Penelope smiled brightly. ‘I just want you to know how APPRECIATED you are,’ she explained. ‘And how much you deserve SURPRISE gifts.’
‘Is that a new top, Mum?’ Harry asked, bounding into the kitchen. ‘It looks nice on you. Oh, and I’ve found a music channel on the TV that plays loads of those songs you like from the olden days. If you want to dance, I could dance with you.’
It was Quite Rude of their mum to throw her head back and laugh.
‘Okay, guys,’ she said, when she’d calmed down a bit. ‘Either someone has stolen my children and replaced them with aliens, or you have an agenda. So, which is it?’
‘We don’t want you to date lame guys off the internet and ruin our family!’ Harry blurted.
Their mum sighed. ‘Come and sit down,’ she said, motioning towards the lounge room. ‘I think it’s time for a family meeting.’
Harry pressed mute on the music channel.
‘So that’s what’s going on,’ their mum said when they were all sitting together on the (three-seater) couch. ‘Guys, it’s been a long time since your dad and I split up. Sometimes I get a bit lonely and I –’
‘We could get a pet!’ Penelope said suddenly. Really, she should have thought of that sooner. ‘I’m not afraid of guinea pigs, and I could get used to a small dog.’
‘Good idea, Penelope,’ Harry said. Penelope felt the vibrations as he tapped his foot on the carpet. Harry often tapped like that when he was excited – or agitated. ‘Let’s get a dog.’
‘It’s not about getting a pet,’ their mum said. ‘And it’s not because you guys aren’t enough. It’s about having an adult relationship.’
‘No way,’ he said. ‘We don’t want you to go out with some random guy. And we definitely don’t want a new dad!’
Their mum put one hand on Harry’s shoulder and the other on Penelope’s.
‘No-one is going to try to be your new dad,’ she said. ‘But this is something I need to do. For me. And it just so happens that I have a date on Thursday night. It’s not with a random guy. I knew Marty Logan back when I was at high school – I couldn’t believe it when his profile came up on the dating site. He was a lovely person at school.’
‘Yeah, maybe he was a hundred years ago,’ Harry said, shrugging her hand off his shoulder. ‘I really don’t think you should do it.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Penelope added, ‘but I don’t think you should either. I vote no. Which means two against one.’
Penelope waited for this to sink in. Their house was (mostly) a very DEMOCRATIC house. Which meant that every vote counted. (Penelope knew all about this because her dad was a politician.)
‘I’m not asking your permission, guys,’ their mum said, in a way that meant she wasn’t going to talk about it any more.
Usually it was Penelope who stormed off when there were arguments at home. This time, it was Harry.
In bed that night, Penelope tossed and turned. She had several visions of Marty Logan. None of them were comforting.
When she needed some help to stay calm, Penelope often turned to her favourite book of all time, When We Were Very Young. She turned on her night-light and got it from her bookshelf. She found herself reading the poem called ‘Disobedience’. It was a wonderful poem about a naughty mother disobeying her three-year-old son, who had distinctly told her:
You must never go down to the end of the town, if you don’t go down with me.
Then the mother went missing. FOREVER. (Eve
n when King John put up a notice!)
Penelope would recommend When We Were Very Young, and this poem, to most people.
But she CERTAINLY wouldn’t recommend it to anyone whose mum was about to go out with a STRANGER (practically – it had been twenty years since her mum had been in high school. Marty Logan might have totally changed since then).
Penelope’s mum could be as disobedient as the mum in the poem. What if she disappeared? Or worse! Penelope couldn’t BEAR it!
She shut the book.
On Wednesday morning, Ms Pike asked the class to make a poster about their favourite hobby. After some serious consideration (it wasn’t an easy choice because she adored reading and drawing and making jewellery) Penelope chose jewellery-making. Jewellery-making was, after all, a UNIQUE hobby that no-one else in her class would pick.
Drawing bracelets and necklaces and earrings in Great Detail took Penelope’s mind off her concerns about her mum. In fact, it was quite peaceful to stay in at recess with Ms Pike to keep working on her poster.
At lunchtime, Penelope saw that the principal, Ms Bourke, was on yard duty. This was an excellent opportunity to be noticed doing something good.
Every Friday at Chelsea Primary there was an awards ceremony. Penelope was the biggest award-winner in the ENTIRE SCHOOL. Alison Cromwell was coming second. Penelope didn’t know exactly what the total scores were at the moment (unfortunately the tally hadn’t been announced at the last ceremony, and though she’d emailed Ms Bourke on the weekend to check, she hadn’t received a reply). But Penelope was quite sure she was still safely in the lead.
Ms Pike had selected Penelope for many awards this year, but getting selected by the actual principal was Very Special. So, instead of relaxing after all the hard work she’d done that morning, Penelope picked up litter. (Well, it was only one piece of litter, but the first few times she picked it up Ms Bourke hadn’t seemed to notice, so she dropped it and picked it up again.)
The Green-Eyed Monster Page 2