How To Survive Summer Camp (ePub)

by Jacqueline Wilson

‘Do we have to go, Miss?’ asked Janie. ‘I don’t like long walks. They’re boring. Me and my friend would sooner play here in the bedroom.’

  Miss Hamer-Cotton smiled stupidly as if Janie was joking and didn’t even bother to answer her.

  I concentrated on my activity sheet. I didn’t want to do judo or climbing or five-a-side football or rounders or rambling or mime or music. I didn’t want to BMX bike or box. I didn’t want to play chess or computer games. I didn’t know what macramé was but I was sure I didn’t want to do it. I certainly didn’t want to swim. About all that was left was Art. I didn’t mind doing Art so I put Art again and again, morning and afternoon, on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.

  ‘You can’t do that,’ said Marzipan. ‘It says so on the back of the paper, look. You have to do four different activities each day. And you’ve got to fit in two swimming sessions a week as well.’

  ‘I’ll make out I haven’t read the back of the paper,’ I said quickly.

  I felt a bit worried when I handed my activity sheet to Miss Hamer-Cotton but she was too busy getting us all organized for the hike to notice. She kept saying it was going to be such fun—but she didn’t actually go on the hike herself, I noticed. I bet she put her feet up all afternoon and watched the telly.

  Uncle Ron was in charge. He was in his ghastly grey tracksuit again, with a large orange haversack bobbing up and down on his back. He had a whole load of student Uncles and Aunties to help keep an eye on us. They were mostly sad and spotty and had silly names like Jimbo and Jilly. They ushered us through the woods, past the dreaded swimming pool, and along by the stream and across the meadows towards the dismally distant brown hummock of Hampton Hill.

  I lagged behind with Marzipan. Alan walked with us, whipping at the bushes with a long snappy stick. It made a wonderful swishing sound. Marzipan jumped every time he did it.

  ‘Let me have a go with your stick, Alan, please,’ I begged.

  I kept on at him until he gave in and handed it over.

  ‘Right, start cowering, everyone,’ I said, snapping the stick. ‘This is when I start to get my own back. Do you hear me, Karen-Copycat and Louise Lavatory? Lash lash lash. And you can watch out too, Uncle Pong, if you try and get me in that pool again it’ll be lash lash lash for you too.’

  ‘Stella, mind. You very nearly cut me. And keep your voice down, he’ll hear,’ Marzipan whispered.

  ‘I’m not scared of him, not now I’m armed,’ I said, lashing.

  I lashed a bit too loudly and Uncle Ron noticed.

  ‘Hey you, Stella! Watch what you’re doing, for goodness’ sake. You’ll have someone’s eye out if you’re not careful.’ He came jogging up, seized the stick, and snapped it into matchsticks.

  ‘Charming,’ Alan muttered.

  I looked at him guiltily.

  ‘Let’s have a song to help us on our way,’ Uncle Ron shouted so that everyone could hear. ‘How about “Ten Green Bottles”?’

  I can’t stand that song. I don’t see why on earth anyone would want to hang those silly green bottles on a wall. I didn’t join in. Marzipan and Alan didn’t either. When there was only one green bottle left Uncle Ron and the Jimbos and Jillys were the only ones left singing.

  ‘Come on, you lot, you can do better than that,’ Uncle Ron complained. ‘I know, we’ll divide you up into your teams.’

  He taught us this special Evergreen team song. It was even sillier than ‘Ten Green Bottles’.

  ‘Jade, Emerald, Olive, and Lime

  We are the teams that tick to time.

  Lime, Olive, Emerald, and Jade

  We are the teams that can’t be swayed.

  So which of the greens is the best team out?

  Open your mouths and let’s hear you SHOUT.’

  And then the Limes yelled Lime. The Olives yelled Olive. The Jades yelled Jade. And we were supposed to yell Emerald. Only I didn’t. And Alan didn’t either. Marzipan pretended, opening her mouth wide, but she didn’t make any noise.

  Then Uncle Ron organized a team singing contest. The Emeralds were set against the Jades. We had to sing ‘Half a Pound of Tuppenny Rice’ and they had to sing ‘Jingle Bells’ and we had to see which tune won. Alan and I decided to sing our own song instead. We sang ‘We Are The Champions’ very loudly indeed. ‘We Are The Champions’ won and Uncle Ron got cross.

  Louise and Karen and some of the other Emeralds weren’t just cross with us, they were furious. They hung back until Uncle Ron and the Jimbos and Jillys and the other children were in the woods at the bottom of Hampton Hill and then there was a fight. There was a lot of pushing and shoving. The child with the donkey got in the way by mistake and was knocked over.

  ‘Watch out! You’ve hurt my friend!’ Janie shouted.

  We stopped fighting and stared at the child with the donkey. She got up slowly, rubbing herself.

  ‘She’s OK,’ said Richard, and seized Alan in a hammerlock.

  The little girl stood very still, her face crumpling. She was looking at her donkey. He had been knocked out of her arms. He’d fallen into a huge cowpat. The little girl stared. The donkey stared miserably back, his glass eyes smeared, his soft furry coat dark with dung.

  ‘Her donkey!’ Janie yelled. ‘It’s gone in all the cow’s thingy, look!’

  We all stared. The child without her donkey stuck out her arm desperately. Karen caught hold of her.

  ‘No, don’t! It’s covered. You can’t.’

  The child started crying. She didn’t make a sound. Tears just gathered in her eyes and then spilled silently.

  ‘It’ll be all germy now. And it smells,’ Janie said, putting her arm round her. ‘It can’t be helped. Tell you what. I’ll let you share my blue teddy.’

  ‘Come on. We’ll get into trouble. The others have been out of sight for ages,’ said Louise. ‘Pull her along, Janie, she’ll come with you.’

  But she wouldn’t. She stood beside the cowpat, trembling.

  ‘Come on, little girl. Come with us,’ said Karen, trying to help Janie.

  The child ducked away from both of them, crying harder when Karen clung.

  ‘Leave her, Karen, you’re just making her worse,’ I said.

  ‘You can shut up for a start, Baldy. It was all your fault anyway. If you and Alan hadn’t mucked about singing “We Are The Champions” then none of this would have happened. It was Alan who knocked her over, I saw,’ said Karen.

  I think she was only guessing, but Alan went red. He looked at the child guiltily. His face screwed up.

  ‘Oh my giddy Aunt,’ said Alan. ‘Don’t cry like that. I’ll get your silly old donkey.’

  He flexed his bare arm, bent down beside the cowpat and reached into it. He groaned as his fingers sank into the smelly mound but he caught hold of the donkey and pulled it free. His arm was bright brown. We all squealed and shuddered and the boys laughed. The child stared, still crying.

  ‘Try wiping it on the grass,’ I said.

  Alan wiped and wiped. The worst of the sludge came off his arm but the donkey got even dirtier, grass and burrs clinging to his filthy fur.

  ‘Throw it away,’ said Louise. ‘Pooh, it stinks. You stink too, Alan. Come on, let’s catch up the others.’

  She rounded everyone up, even Janie.

  ‘We’ve got to go or we’ll get left behind,’ Janie said, and she was nearly crying too. ‘Leave the donkey. Look, I’ll give you my blue teddy, I won’t even have a share in him, OK? Come on.’

  The child hung back, staring at the donkey. Alan had dropped it on the ground and was rubbing at his arm with a dock leaf.

  ‘I can’t wait to have a wash,’ he said, holding his arm away from him. He looked at the little girl. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t get it off him. We’ll have to dump poor old donkey.’

  The child stared. I just couldn’t bear the way she was looking. I had to do something.

  ‘I’ll make your old donkey better again, you wait and see,’ I said. I took hold of him by one s
melly old leg and started running back across the meadow.

  ‘Stella! Stella, you’re going the wrong way. Stella, come back,’ Marzipan shouted.

  Someone else was shouting too. It was coming from the woods. It was Uncle Ron and he sounded angry.

  I stopped and looked over my shoulder.

  ‘Oh help,’ said Karen.

  ‘Come on,’ said Louise, running towards the woods.

  Karen and Richard and James and Bilbo started running too. Janie hung back, pleading with the child, but Karen came after her and pulled her away.

  Marzipan called me again but I shook my head and went on running. I listened though and after a bit I heard people running after me. I grinned.

  They caught me up right back by the stream, Marzipan and Alan and the little child.

  ‘What are you playing at, Stella? We’re going to get into awful trouble,’ Marzipan moaned.

  I was too busy to take much notice. I was clinging to a large tuft of grass with one hand and dangling the donkey into the stream with the other. It was horribly cold and uncomfortable and I was scared I’d slip right in and drown. It was almost as bad as the swimming pool but it couldn’t be helped. I had to wash all the muck off the donkey. My arm ached and went numb with cold but I went on swooshing him through the water. The child watched as he bucked and reared and galloped. She’d stopped crying.

  ‘Here, I’ll have a go,’ said Marzipan.

  She was better at sluicing and squeezing. She kept holding the donkey up for inspection and he got cleaner and cleaner each time. When the water trickling from him was crystal clear she squeezed him out thoroughly. The child gasped as she twisted the donkey round and round.

  ‘It’s all right, I’m not hurting him,’ said Marzipan. ‘Here he is, then.’

  She handed him over. The child sat on the bank and cradled the donkey. She wiped his eyes with the hem of her dress, she smelt him, she fingered his fur—and then she hugged him.

  ‘Careful, he’s still sopping wet,’ said Marzipan.

  The child didn’t care. She hugged him tightly to her chest, rocking backwards and forwards.

  ‘It was my idea to wash him in the stream,’ I reminded her.

  She smiled at me.

  ‘I think he liked his swim,’ I said. ‘What’s his name then?’

  The little girl looked at me, her head on one side.

  ‘I know. It’s Eeyore,’ I said.

  ‘No, it’s not,’ said the little girl.

  She spoke! She actually spoke, in a dear little squeaky-mouse voice. I nodded triumphantly at Marzipan and Alan. I’d got her to speak.

  ‘What is his name then?’ I asked.

  ‘My donkey’s a she, not a he. She’s called Dora Donkey.’

  ‘Dora!’ I struggled not to laugh. ‘Hello, Dora Donkey.’ I shook the donkey’s sodden hoof. ‘How are you today then, Dora? Would you like a cup of carrot juice, eh?’

  I pretended to give her one. The child giggled, especially when I made Dora drink with great slurps.

  ‘And what’s your name?’ I asked.

  She shook her head.

  ‘I’ll guess. It ought to be something to go with Dora. Let’s see. Cora? Flora? Leonora?’

  The child spluttered with laughter.

  ‘It’s Rosemary,’ she announced.

  ‘That’s a pretty name,’ I said. ‘There’s a girl at my school called Mary Rose, that’s Rosemary backwards, and everyone used to chant this daft rhyme “Mary Rose sat on a pin, Mary Rose” until Mary Rose got really mad so I suggested she should get her own back and bring some pins to school and—’

  ‘Trust you!’ said Marzipan. ‘Come on then, Stella.’

  ‘Come on where?’

  ‘Don’t be daft! We’ve got to catch the others up. And we aren’t half going to get into awful trouble too,’ said Marzipan, sighing.

  I didn’t want to think about it and spoil everything. I liked it here, just Marzipan, Rosemary, Alan, and me. I didn’t see why we couldn’t stay here for a bit longer.

  ‘Don’t be an old spoilsport, Marzipan. Let’s stop here.’ I stretched out on the grass. ‘Here, Rosemary, pass Dora to me. We’ll spread her out in the sun and get her tummy dry, eh? And while she’s sunbathing we could make her a daisychain. She’d like that, wouldn’t she?’

  Rosemary nodded. I loved the way she looked at me now, as if I were a queen and she my little serving maid.

  ‘When I’ve made Dora a daisychain I’ll make one for you, Stella, a really long special one, because you made Dora better again,’ said Rosemary.

  ‘Cheek! I was the one who got your donkey out of the smelly old cowpat,’ said Alan, but he didn’t really mind.

  He rolled up his jeans and went in paddling, wincing a bit at the icy water.

  ‘Oh dear, does Little Precious want a special daisy necklace too then?’ I teased.

  Alan splashed water at me but I ducked behind Marzipan.

  ‘Do stop mucking about, you two,’ she said crossly, dabbing at herself. ‘Please let’s go and find the others.’

  ‘I’m staying here,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to go on a boring hike with Uncle Pong.’

  Alan fell about laughing. ‘Uncle Pong. How perfect.’ He staggered about and nearly tripped on a rock. He bent and tugged at it. ‘It’s ever so narrow here. I bet we could make a dam. Come and help, Stella.’

  ‘No fear. I’m not going in that freezing old stream. Get Marzipan to help. Go on, Marz, show us your muscles,’ I said, starting to thread daisies.

  Marzipan chewed at her lip worriedly, realizing we really were staying.

  ‘Do you want one of my fruit gums?’ I said quickly, searching my pockets. ‘They’re not really that fluffy, and we can always wash them. You can have the strawberry one if you like, Marzipan.’

  Marzipan sucked the strawberry and made a daisychain but she didn’t look happy.

  ‘I’ll be the one they’ll blame, because I’m the oldest,’ she said. ‘What do you think they’ll do to us?’

  ‘Nothing. They’ll just make us lose a silly old team point. Who cares?’ I said.

  ‘They might …’ Marzipan tugged at the grass miserably, trying to decide what they really might do to us. But she wasn’t very good at making up Dire Consequences. It was a game I loved.

  ‘They might put us in that big tower,’ I said. ‘Yes, they could lock us up in it.’ I remembered the Princess Stellarina story I’d started in my new notebook and I started telling it. I was just doing it to tease poor old Marzipan at first but then I got carried away. I went on with the story and they all listened, even Alan. I’d have been mad to have stopped with an audience like that, so I went on and on until my voice started to go croaky.

  I was right in the middle of the story. Princess Stellarina was being smothered with one of Uncle Pong’s disgusting tracksuits. She was fainting with the fumes but Prince Alaghad couldn’t rescue her because he was tied up in the dungeon with several ropes of Hag Hateful-Catty’s pearls and the melancholy maiden Marzine had wandered into the marshes by moonlight and had been captured by the evil Lavatrise and Kopy Karen and Little Red Rosy Posy had gone galloping after her on her noble steed Interflora but she had fallen in a filthy mire and they were both being sucked to a dreadful death.

  I wasn’t sure how to sort them all out. I paused and then flopped on to my back.

  ‘End of part one. Will Princess Stellarina be able to endure her ordeal? Will Prince Alaghad burst his pearl chains? Will melancholy Marzine escape the demon duo Lavatrise and Kopy Karen? Will little Red Rosy Posy be dragged from the quickdung in time? Listen out for the next instalment of the Ever Exciting Adventures at Everblack.’ I did a dramatic Tra-la-la-laa. There was a long silence.

  ‘Were you making it all up?’ said Marzipan.

  ‘Of course!’

  ‘I mean, you didn’t get it out of a book?’

  ‘How could I?’ I said.

  I tried to sound casual but I wanted to jump around and show of
f I was so pleased they were impressed by my story.

  ‘Stellarina and Alaghad! You’re even more of a nutcase than I thought,’ said Alan.

  I wasn’t sure, but I think he was impressed too.

  ‘Tell some more,’ Rosemary begged.

  But I couldn’t think of any more for the moment so we made some more daisychains instead and Alan built a dam. The daisychains kept breaking and the dam leaked but it didn’t really matter.

  No one had a watch so we weren’t really sure about the time. We’d long since finished up the fruit gums and were starting to get ravenous. Marzipan didn’t think it could be more than four o’clock but the rest of us began to wonder if we’d missed tea. Perhaps I hadn’t been quite so clever after all.

  Then I heard the faint but familiar strains of ten green bottles oh-so-gently falling.

  ‘They’re coming back! Quick, let’s hide,’ I hissed, and we all crawled into the middle of a big bush. The singing got louder and then we could actually see feet tramping along beside the stream. I spotted huge great trainers and grey tracksuit legs and nudged Alan. He nudged me back and we got the giggles and nearly choked.

  ‘Shut up, shut up,’ Marzipan mouthed desperately.

  ‘It’s all right. They’re making too much racket,’ I whispered.

  The feet were petering out now. I peered through the leaves and saw the rest of the Emeralds looking very hot and cross and bored.

  ‘I bet nobody even noticed we were missing,’ I said.

  I thought a bit.

  ‘So let’s tag on the end with the others now,’ I suggested. ‘And then no one will be any the wiser.’

  The Emeralds were, of course. Janie fell on Rosemary and Dora and hugged them with all her heart. Louise and Karen weren’t in a hugging mood.

  ‘Where have you been?’ Louise demanded furiously. ‘Uncle Ron counted us all when we got to Hampton Hill and Karen and the boys and I had to keep bobbing about to get counted twice or the Emeralds would have lost another flipping team point. What have you been doing?’

  We smiled at her and wouldn’t tell.

  Rosemary couldn’t stop talking now that she’d found her voice. She talked all evening and she was still squeaking away long after Miss Hamer-Cotton had switched out the light in our dormi.