‘Baby!’ I gasped, terrified that she’d break.
Selma ran fast. She bent down and grabbed Baby. ‘What’s this then?’ she asked, peering at poor Baby. ‘Oh, it’s a little dolly-wolly. Still play with dolls, do you, Little Bug?’
‘She’s not a doll, she’s an ornament,’ I said. ‘And watch out, she’s china – she breaks very, very easily. Now give her back!’
I tried to snatch Baby, but Selma held her up high, miles out of my reach.
‘Oh, little diddums wants her dolly-wolly,’ she said, sneering at me. ‘Well, you’re not going to get her! She’s mine now.’
‘No she’s not! She’s mine! My gran gave her to me! Give her back!’ I wailed.
‘I don’t really want this silly little doll. I think I’ll just throw her away,’ said Selma, taking aim.
‘No, don’t!’ I screamed.
Selma could throw far and make balls bounce really hard.
If she did that to Baby, she really would shatter.
‘You can’t stop me!’ she said, laughing.
‘Phil! Maddie!’ I shouted at the top of my voice.
‘Your precious sisters aren’t here, are they?’ said Selma. ‘It’s just you and me and funny little dolly.’
‘Please don’t throw her!’ I begged, starting to cry.
‘Oh, little diddums cry-baby! All right, I won’t throw her.’
‘You won’t?’ I said, snivelling.
‘No, I won’t. I’ll flush her down the toilet instead!’
Selma ran into a toilet, slammed the door shut, and then I heard the chain being pulled.
‘No no no!’ I screamed.
‘Yes yes yes!’ said Selma, coming out of the toilet, grinning.
‘You didn’t!’ I cried.
‘Oh yes, I did!’
I rushed into the toilet and stared, hoping to see poor Baby bobbing up and down in the water. But there was no sign of her. Unless . . .
‘You’ve just hidden her!’ I said, running out again.
‘Oh yeah?’ said Selma. ‘Where?’ She opened both hands. She pulled out her pockets. She opened up her satchel and shook out the contents. She unzipped her pencil case. No Baby anywhere!
I threw myself down on the cold floor of the girls’ toilets and howled. ‘I’ll tell!’ I wailed.
‘Tell all you like. I don’t care,’ said Selma, and she sauntered off, still smiling.
I stayed where I was, crying. Then I heard hurried footsteps.
‘Tina!’ It was Maddie.
‘Oh, Tina, what’s wrong?’ gasped Phil, running after her.
‘We’ve been looking for you everywhere,’ said Maddie.
‘What’s happened?’ Phil squatted down on the floor and put her arm round me.
‘Is it that Selma?’ asked Maddie, sitting beside me too. ‘Has she hurt you? We saw her in the corridor and she had this weird smile on her face.’
‘She did the most terrible thing ever,’ I sobbed. ‘She flushed Baby down the toilet!’
‘She didn’t! Are you sure? Even Selma couldn’t be that hateful!’ said Phil.
‘She did, she did, she did!’ I wailed.
‘Which toilet?’ said Maddie. ‘I’ll see if I can rescue her!’
‘Oh, Maddie, don’t, you’ll get all germy,’ said Phil.
But brave Maddie risked everything and stuck her hand right down the toilet. ‘She’s not there. She must have been flushed away and down the pipes,’ she said, emerging with a dripping hand.
‘Wash your hands! Wash them again and again! And then, when we get home, scrub them even more and dab some Dettol on them,’ said Phil. ‘And you’d better wash your face, Tina, it’s all snivelly. Oh dear, Mum will be starting to worry, wondering where we are.’
‘Wait till Mum hears what Selma’s done!’ said Maddie, washing fiercely.
‘We can’t tell Mum,’ I cried. ‘She told and told me not to take Baby to school. I’ll get in so much trouble if I tell.’
Maddie and Phil pondered.
‘Yes, I think Mum would be very cross. Perhaps we could tell Miss Lovejoy . . .’ Phil suggested uncertainly.
‘She’d be cross too,’ said Maddie. ‘Look how narked she got when Harry brought his football game to school. She confiscated it for a whole week.’
‘Well, she can’t confiscate Baby because she’s been flushed away,’ said Phil.
I started howling all over again, thinking about poor Baby swimming in the sewers.
‘Ssh now, Tina. Come on,’ said Phil, washing my face for me. ‘You’d better wash your hands one more time, Maddie. Wash right up your arms and under your nails too.’
‘I’ve washed so much they’re getting sore!’ Maddie complained.
When we ran out across the playground at last, Mum was looking really worried.
‘Why are you so late, girls? Everyone else came out a good ten minutes ago.’ She looked at me. ‘Oh, Tina, you’ve been crying!’
‘No she hasn’t, Mum. She’s just had her face washed, that’s all,’ Phil said quickly.
‘Yes, we’ve all been washing. Look at my hands!’ said Maddie.
‘How did you get them so dirty?’ asked Mum.
‘We . . . did painting at school. So we got all painty,’ said Phil.
Mum looked at us all very closely. Her eyes were almost as beady as Miss Lovejoy’s. ‘Something’s happened,’ she said. ‘Did you get into trouble with Miss Lovejoy today?’
‘No, Mum!’ we said in unison.
‘Then was it Selma again? Is she still picking on you, Tina?’
I was still a bit too sobby to risk speaking, but I nodded my head.
‘Poor Teeny Weeny,’ said Mum, picking me up. ‘Never mind. It’s Saturday tomorrow and you’re going out with Gran and Grandad. You can forget all about school and Selma for a little while. But then, on Monday, I’ll have to have another word with Miss Lovejoy. Oh dear!’
Chapter Seven
I WAS SOOOO worried that Gran would want to see our dolls on Saturday. Mum hadn’t yet noticed that Baby was missing, but Gran might. Rosebud’s lap looked very empty.
‘I know what we’ll do,’ said Phil. ‘I’ll take one of Rosa’s roses and put it in Rosebud’s hand. Yes – this little one that looks like a rosebud. Then it will look as if that’s what she was holding all the time. Gran will forget that she used to hold a little china baby.’
‘She might not forget,’ I said.
‘Well, tell you what, let’s put Nibbles and Speedy and Cheesepuff right in front of the dolls,’ said Maddie. ‘They won’t mind us moving their cage. They’d probably like a change of view. And you know how weird Gran is about hamsters. She won’t come anywhere near them, so she won’t be close enough to look at the dolls.’
‘Good plan, Maddie!’ said Phil.
So we carefully moved the hamsters’ cage over to the window, propping it up on top of our old doll’s house.
‘There!’ said Maddie triumphantly.
‘Brilliant!’ said Phil.
‘Squeak, squeak, squeak – we like our slight change of address!’ said Nibbles and Speedy and Cheesepuff.
‘But Mum will still notice,’ I pointed out.
‘Well . . . not yet,’ said Phil.
‘And she’ll be very cross,’ I added.
‘Then you’ll just have to cry lots, and she’ll pick you up and give you a cuddle and stop being cross,’ said Maddie. ‘You know how to do it. You’re the World Champion at stopping people being cross.’
‘I’ll say!’ said Phil. ‘So cheer up, Tina.’
I tried hard, but I couldn’t quite manage it. I missed Baby so. Every time I thought of her my eyes went prickly and I couldn’t swallow properly.
Gran and Grandad arrived and had a cup of coffee with Mum. (Poor Dad has to work at the supermarket most Saturdays.) We had to act as waitresses. Phil carried the tray of coffee because she has the steadiest hands. Maddie carried our juices, because her hands are almost as steady. I carried the p
late of biscuits.
Then Gran went up to the bathroom and Phil and Maddie and I held our breath. Gran often pokes about when she’s upstairs. After she came out of the bathroom we heard her going along the landing. Oh dear, she was heading for our bedroom!
We waited. We heard a little squeal. Had she spotted that Baby was missing?
‘Why do you let the girls have those horrible little rodents in their pretty bedroom?’ asked Gran, coming back into the living room. ‘I’m sure it can’t be very hygienic. And they smell!’
Oh, clever, clever Maddie!
Gran and Mum had a bit of an argument about the hamsters. We were all on Mum’s side. Nibbles and Speedy and Cheesepuff don’t smell. Well, only a tiny bit. Gran smells lots. She wears so much perfume it makes your nose itch, especially when she hugs you close.
But then Grandad made everyone laugh doing his hamster imitation, and Gran and Mum stopped getting at each other. We set off in Gran and Grandad’s car while Mum said she’d catch up on the housework.
It’s usually fun going in the car with Gran and Grandad. We sing all kinds of songs, we do hand dancing, we eat fruit drops, we play I Spy and Spot the Car, and we listen to stories. But today I didn’t really feel like joining in. I was missing Baby too much.
‘What’s up with my little Teeny Weeny then?’ asked Grandad.
‘Nothing’s up,’ said Phil.
‘You’re fine, aren’t you, Tina?’ said Maddie.
I nodded. ‘I’m OK,’ I said in a very small voice. I wasn’t very convincing.
‘Is it school, pet?’ said Gran. ‘Your mum tells me there’s some nasty girl – Sarah, Celia . . . whatever – who keeps teasing you. Is that right?’
‘She’s called Selma, Gran, and she’s absolutely horrible to our Tina,’ said Phil.
‘We keep trying to get our own back on her, but then she takes it out on Tina even more,’ said Maddie. ‘She’s the one who has to sit next to Selma.’
‘Well, why don’t you ask your teacher if she can swap places?’ asked Grandad.
‘As if Miss Lovejoy would ever say yes!’ said Phil. ‘You could ask her ever so nicely . . .’
‘You could go down on your knees and beg . . .’ said Maddie.
‘You could give her a huge bunch of roses . . .’ said Phil.
‘You could give her an enormous box of chocolates . . .’ said Maddie.
‘But she’d never, ever, ever say yes,’ said Phil and Maddie together.
‘Well, I think your mum should go in and tell her that it’s simply not good enough,’ said Gran. ‘Poor little Tina!’
‘Mum’s going to see Miss Lovejoy again on Monday,’ said Phil.
‘But it won’t be any use,’ said Maddie.
‘Well, don’t let’s get in a fuss about it now,’ said Grandad. ‘This is our day out, girls.’
‘And first of all we’re going shopping!’ Gran told us.
We parked in a big shopping centre. Gran took us to our favourite shop and bought us each a little treat.
Phil chose very pale pink lipstick and nail varnish. Maddie chose a little blue wallet. I couldn’t choose for ages.
There was a lovely little bead purse that would have made a perfect bed for Baby – only I didn’t have Baby any more.
There was a white feather boa that would have made Baby a wonderful wedding dress with a long train – only I didn’t have Baby any more.
There was a little glittery ring that would have made Baby a beautiful crown – only I didn’t have Baby any more.
‘Come on, Tina – what would you like, poppet?’ asked Gran.
I dithered. ‘I don’t think I want anything, Gran,’ I said.
‘Oh yes you do!’ said Maddie.
‘We’ll help you choose,’ said Phil. ‘Look – what about these pretty slides? There’s a blue butterfly slide!’
‘Perfect!’ said Maddie. ‘Gran, did you hear about the beautiful butterfly Tina drew at school?’
‘Miss Lovejoy said it was sooooo brilliant she gave Tina a gold star and hung it up on the wall in a special frame,’ said Phil.
‘Really? Well, perhaps your Miss Lovejoy isn’t quite as bad as I thought she was,’ said Gran. ‘Well done, Tina, darling. You’re a clever girl.’
I felt a little bit better then. I did choose the slide, and it looked pretty when Gran put it in my hair.
Then we did some Gran shopping. She likes shoes.
I thought Grandad looked a bit lonely, so I went to have a chat with him.
‘Don’t you like shopping, Grandad?’ I asked.
‘I think it’s a bit boring,’ he said, pulling me onto his knee.
‘What do you like doing best then, Grandad?’
‘Eating!’ he said. ‘Hurry up, ladies! I want my lunch!’
We had a delicious lunch in a big food court. We all chose our favourite things.
Grandad had an Indian curry with rice and a can of lager.
Gran had a salad and a mineral water. She said she was being a good girl and sticking to her diet. But when she’d finished them, she weakened and chose a big cream éclair and a cappuccino for afters.
Phil and Maddie and I all chose the same. We had chips with tomato sauce and then great big knickerbocker glorys. They sound rude, but they’re really amazingly huge ice-cream sundaes with whipped cream and cherries.
They were so big that even Phil and Maddie couldn’t quite finish theirs. But they were delicious.
‘Yum, yum, yum!’ said Maddie.
‘Yes, extra yum,’ said Phil. ‘Though we’re not really supposed to eat chips without anything else. We’d better not tell Mum.’
‘We’re not supposed to eat ginormous ice creams either,’ said Maddie.
‘Oh, fiddle,’ exclaimed Gran. ‘You had tomato sauce with your chips. Tomato! That’s a vegetable. And ice cream’s dairy, made from milk and cream. Lots of calcium to make your bones strong.’
‘Then we’d better feed this little mite ten knickerbocker glorys on the trot. She’s got arms and legs like matchsticks,’ said Grandad, giving me a hug. My new butterfly slide grazed his cheek, but he didn’t mind.
‘Where are we going now, Grandad?’ asked Phil.
‘Let’s go and see some animals!’ he said.
‘Oh, goody – are we going to Pets at Home where we got Speedy and Nibbles and Cheesepuff?’ asked Maddie.
‘Nope. I’m thinking of bigger animals,’ Grandad told us.
‘Oh, are we going to that big park where they have all the deer?’ asked Phil.
‘Nope,’ said Grandad. ‘I think we’re going to . . . the zoo!’
We all cheered. All except Gran. She’s weird – she doesn’t really like animals much.
‘Isn’t it a bit chilly for the zoo?’ she asked.
‘The girls are all wrapped up. I’ll give Tina my scarf to keep her extra warm,’ said Grandad.
Gran sighed. ‘All right. If we must,’ she said. ‘At least it’s put a smile on Tina’s face.’
Gran didn’t look very smiley as we wandered around the zoo. She had to keep sitting down and rubbing her feet because her new boots were hurting her.
We liked the monkeys best. We stared at them for ages. One was very rude, which made us get the giggles. The little yellow squirrel monkeys were our favourites. Phil started giving them all names.
‘Look – there’s Sarah Squirrel Monkey and Susan Squirrel Monkey and Sammy Squirrel Monkey and Simon Squirrel Monkey and – and Selma Squirrel Monkey,’ she said, pointing.
‘That’s not Selma Squirrel Monkey. She’s too pretty. That’s Saskia. I’ll show you Selma,’ said Maddie, running to the next cage. She pointed to a baboon with a very big bare bottom. ‘That’s Selma!’
We got the giggles all over again. I giggled so much I nearly fell over.
‘Now then, stop being silly, girls,’ said Gran.
‘It does them good to have a bit of a laugh,’ said Grandad. ‘Especially little Tina. I’m so glad she’s cheered up
at last.’
I was even cheerier when we went into Tropical World. I liked seeing all the rainforest animals, especially the giant sloth.
Phil and Maddie and I pretended that we were all giant sloths (I was a baby one) and we all moved very s-l-o-w-l-y.
Gran went through some plastic curtains at the end of the room, looking for another seat. Then she came back and beckoned. ‘Come and look!’ she said.
She’d found butterflies. Lots and lots of butterflies, all around us. There were blue ones and red ones and green ones and yellow ones and pretty patterned ones. They flew around our heads and landed on the shrubs and bushes so that we could get up close and look at them. Oh, I loved the butterflies! One flew right round Grandad and landed on his head! Lucky, lucky Grandad.
There were little stands of fruit here and there, so that the butterflies could have a little snack when they got tired of flying. A notice said that they all came from a very hot country in Africa. I imagined what it might be like to be a little caterpillar crawling around amazing tropical flowers in blazing sunshine, then to go into a chrysalis and eventually wake up in a cold grey country like England. No wonder the butterfly enclosure was so warm that I had to get Gran to hold my jacket for me.
There were pictures of all the different butterflies, with their names. Phil and Maddie and I all picked our favourites and then tried to spot them.
‘I like the emerald swallowtail best,’ said Phil. ‘And look, look – there it is, on that leafy branch! Isn’t it beautiful!’
‘Well, I like the blue morpho,’ said Maddie. ‘Isn’t it the brightest, loveliest blue?’
We had to circle the whole enclosure until we suddenly spotted one, sucking at an orange slice.
‘Hey, he likes orange juice and so do I!’ cried Maddie.
It took me ages to pick a favourite. I liked them all. Well, I liked the brightly coloured ones better than the browny ones, but I didn’t like to say so out loud in case I hurt their feelings. I was a bit irritated with Phil and Maddie – I might have chosen either the emerald swallowtail or the blue morpho as my favourite. But then I saw a picture of a small butterfly called a ‘postman’. I thought it was a very funny name for a butterfly. I knew exactly how Mick on my table at school would draw it.
The Butterfly Club Page 5