Selma swallowed. I willed her not to say another word.
Luckily Sam started acting up, throwing the cushions around and jumping on them.
‘Hey! Leave off, you little monster!’ said Mrs Johnson.
‘And I’m Big Daddy Monster and I’m going to get you if you don’t behave!’ said Jason, and he started crawling on the floor, pulling faces and making growling noises.
Sam shrieked with laughter. Jason started wrestling with him and they rolled over and over. I stared at them, wondering why Jason let the boys get away with murder and yet was so picky with Selma. I looked at her and she rolled her eyes at me.
Then we heard the doorbell. The pizzas were here – and the dough balls and the cookie-dough ice cream and the Cokes. We didn’t have to sit at the table with plates and knives and forks. We just sat where we were and ate out of the containers. It was much more fun.
Mrs Johnson and Jason and Selma and I all had a pizza each, and a dough ball and a glass of Coke. (The ice cream was put in the freezer for afterwards.) Sam had three-quarters of a pizza, and a dough ball and a mug of Coke. Baby Joel had quarter of a pizza, and a dough ball and a bottle of Coke.
I loved my pizza – apart from the onions, which were a bit slimy. I decided I was going to eat the whole thing (apart from the onions). I’d be able to boast to Phil and Maddie. But the more I ate, the bigger the pizza seemed to grow. The onions grew too. I was scared to bite into each slice in case I got a mouthful of onion.
Selma saw me hesitating. ‘What’s up? Don’t you like it?’ she asked, while the others were all busy thumping baby Joel on the back because his pizza had gone down the wrong way.
‘I don’t like onions,’ I hissed.
‘Never mind. Look, I’ll eat your onions,’ Selma offered. She started picking out all my onions while I smiled at her gratefully.
‘What are you doing, Selma?’ Jason asked sharply. ‘Leave Tina’s pizza alone! Haven’t you got enough of your own?’
‘It’s all right, Jason, she’s just taking my onions. I don’t like them very much,’ I said quickly.
‘See!’ said Selma. ‘You’ve always got to stick your big nose in.’ Then she called Jason a rude word. She only muttered that bit under her breath, but I heard what she said. And he did too.
‘Right! That’s it! Get to bed!’ said Jason.
‘Oh, Jason, let the kid eat her pizza!’ said Mrs Johnson.
‘I warned her. Get!’ Jason shouted, and he pulled Selma to her feet and pushed her towards the door.
She started crying then and he mocked her, pretending to cry himself. Sam thought this was very funny and roared with laughter. I felt sick.
Then Selma was gone and I was left alone in the living room with this strange family.
‘Eat up, little Tina,’ said Jason, his voice normal now. ‘You didn’t want Selma mucking about with your food, did you?’
I didn’t dare contradict him, though I felt terribly disloyal to Selma. Her own pizza and dough ball grew cold. I struggled to eat more of mine, but it was difficult with my stomach in knots. I took a mouthful of onions and heaved.
‘Please may I go to the bathroom?’ I gabbled, and shot out of the room.
I was a bit sick. I’d never been sick on my own before. Mum or Dad had always held my forehead and mopped me up afterwards. I had to wash my face and take a drink of water all by myself.
When I’d stopped shaking and felt a little better, I let myself out of the bathroom very quietly and tiptoed along the carpet to Selma’s bedroom. Her door was open and I could hear muffled sobbing.
I crept right up to her door and went into her room. Selma was curled up in a ball on her bed, tears dripping down her face. She was holding something in her hand, whispering.
I went nearer, wondering what it was.
I could just see a little head poking out of Selma’s hand. A little china head.
‘Baby!’ I said.
Selma jumped. She shoved her hand under her pillow. ‘What?’ she mumbled.
‘That’s Baby! My Baby! You had her all the time!’ I said. ‘You didn’t flush her down the loo, you stole her!’
‘No I didn’t! What Baby? I haven’t got any flipping Baby – see?’ Selma showed me two empty hands.
But she knew and I knew that Baby was under her pillow.
‘Give me back Baby! I thought you were my friend! We’ve been friends for months and you kept her all this time!’ I said.
‘You’re mad! I haven’t got no Baby! Look, get out of my room, Little Bug,’ Selma shouted.
‘Hey, hey!’ It was Jason. ‘Are you two having an argy-bargy now? What’s she said to you, Tina? I’ll soon give her what for!’
Selma looked at me. Her nose was running as well as her eyes. I was furious with her and I was desperate to get Baby back, but I couldn’t tell on her.
‘She hasn’t done anything,’ I said, and then I burst into tears too.
Chapter Twenty
I DIDN’T TELL Mum when she came to collect me. I didn’t want to talk about any of it. I just bent my head and didn’t answer when she asked if I’d had a good time.
She gave me a hug. ‘I don’t think you did,’ she said. ‘Never mind. You don’t ever have to go again, not if you don’t want to.’
Phil and Maddie were much more inquisitive, though they waited until we were all in bed.
They were seriously impressed when I said I’d had a barbecue chicken melt pizza and a dough ball and a glass of Coke. (I couldn’t eat the cookie-dough ice cream because I was so upset.)
They shivered when I told them about Jason and how scary he could be.
‘I think I’m starting to feel sorry for Selma,’ said Phil.
‘It must be awful to have a stepdad who doesn’t like you,’ agreed Maddie.
‘Yes, but then I found out something. Selma stole Baby!’ I told them.
‘You already know that, silly,’ said Phil.
‘She flushed her down the toilet,’ said Maddie.
‘No, she didn’t! She just pretended to. She must have shoved her up her sleeve or in her pocket or something when she was inside the toilet cubicle. Because she’s still got her. I saw! She was holding her, and it was definitely Baby, but she wouldn’t give her back. She hid her again and pretended I was mistaken, but I wasn’t. She’s kept Baby all this time, even though she was my friend and knows how much I miss her,’ I wailed.
‘Oh, Tina, you poor thing,’ said Phil.
‘Don’t worry. When school goes back we’ll confront her and make her give Baby back,’ said Maddie.
‘I don’t think I want her to be my friend any more,’ I said.
‘Well, you don’t need her as a friend – you’ve got us,’ said Phil.
‘But you’ve got Neera for your friend now,’ I pointed out.
‘Yes, Neera’s my best friend, and Maddie’s got Harry as her best friend, but you two are my bestest best friends,’ said Phil. ‘Isn’t that right, Maddie?’
‘Of course it is,’ said Maddie. ‘We’re Phil and Tina and me.’
‘We’re Maddie and Tina and me,’ said Phil.
‘We’re Phil and Maddie and me,’ I said, and I felt so very glad that I had my two sisters.
It was lovely to be on holiday. Phil and Maddie and I helped Mum make a Christmas cake and we all had a go at stirring. We made our own Christmas cards and went shopping to buy presents. We clubbed together to buy a purse for Mum and a pen for Dad and a lipstick for Gran and woolly socks for Grandad. We went into the toy shop one by one to buy presents for each other. I bought a little plastic pony for Phil and a bag of marbles for Maddie. I tried not to think of the plants I could have bought instead of presents!
I also spent half an hour every single day trying to learn my spellings. Miss Lovejoy had given me the list of fifty words.
I copied each one out five times. It was very, very tedious. Then Phil and Maddie tested me. I didn’t get them all right. In fact, most of the time I got them wr
ong, and then I got upset, because I so wanted to get lots of money for my butterfly garden. Mum and Dad were sponsoring me too. And Gran and Grandad and Mrs Richards next door. I tried and tried to learn the words, staring at them until the letters wiggled around and didn’t make sense at all.
Mum tried helping me. And Dad. If anything, it made me worse: I was so anxious to please them that my mind went fuzzy and I couldn’t even spell baby words like ‘the’ or ‘and’.
On Christmas Day Gran and Grandad came over and stayed till Boxing Day. Christmas was lovely, of course. Mum and Dad gave Phil and Maddie and me three scooters – one each!!! Gran gave us all princess dressing-up clothes with silver slippers with little heels. Grandad gave us another massive Lego set, and we started building it on Christmas afternoon and Boxing Day morning.
Guess what Phil and Maddie gave me! Phil had bought me a little plastic baby doll and Maddie had bought two sets of clothes for her – a dress and coat and hat set, and a dressing gown and nightie set.
‘She’s a new Baby for you,’ they said.
‘Thank you! Oh, I love her!’ I said.
I didn’t love her as much as my first real Baby, and although she was small, she wasn’t as little as Baby so she couldn’t hide in my hand – but she was very sweet, and it was very, very kind of my sisters to buy her for me.
I didn’t try to learn my spellings on Christmas Day, of course, but I did get the dreaded list out on Boxing Day.
‘How are you doing, pet?’ asked Grandad. ‘How much money am I going to have to fork out?’
‘I don’t think you’ll have to fork out a single penny, Grandad,’ I said miserably. ‘I just can’t learn the wretched things.’
‘Let me see, sweetheart . . .’ Grandad got out his reading glasses and peered. ‘Oh dear. Yes, I remember learning some of these chappies when I was at school. You know what I did? I made up funny little songs for the hardest words. Let’s see. E-g-y-p-t-i-a-n. Egyptian. Sing it with me.’
I sang it. Phil and Maddie sang it too. I had it by heart in about thirty seconds.
‘There! Now, write it down quickly, Tina,’ said Grandad.
I did, singing the song inside my head – and for the first time the ‘g’s and ‘y’s and ‘p’s came out the right way round.
‘I like spelling this way, Grandad!’ I said happily.
‘Tina’s got our names on her spelling list, Grandad. Can you make up a song for Philippa?’
‘Certainly. Let’s think. P-h-i-l-i-p-p-a. How about that?’ He made it a lovely pretty plinky song, just right for Philippa. Then he made up Maddie’s song. ‘M-a-d-e-l-e-i-n-e. Madeleine.’ He made it funny and shouty, a bit like a football song.
By the time Grandad went home on Boxing Day evening he’d made up songs for half my list, and I could remember most of them. He came back later on in the Christmas holidays to remind me of the tunes I’d forgotten, and made up lots more.
I went around singing my spelling songs over and over again. I sang at breakfast, I sang when we were riding our scooters up and down the pavement, I sang while we were building with the Lego, I sang while we were playing games on our iPad, I sang while we had lunch, I sang when we went to the shops, I sang when I played with New Baby and our Monster High dolls, I sang when we were feeding Nibbles and Speedy and Cheesepuff, I sang when we had tea, I sang while we were watching television, I sang when we went to bed.
‘You might be learning how to spell, but all that singing doesn’t half get annoying at times,’ said Phil.
‘If I didn’t know how much your butterfly garden means to you, I’d put this pillow over your head to smother you. I’ll just give you a whack with it instead,’ said Maddie, doing just that.
So that started a pillow fight, and we all shrieked with laughter, whacking and whacking and whacking, until suddenly Maddie’s pillow split open and showered us with feathers. They flew everywhere – over the beds, the carpet, the dolls on the windowsill, our hamsters in their cage – looking like little butterflies fluttering around. We watched, enchanted and appalled, until Mum came in and told us off big-time.
I even dreamed my spelling words. They drifted around inside my head all night, just like the feathers. During the day I wrote them down in different colours, using the set of pens Miss Lovejoy had given me.
I also watched Ruby Red on the television.
‘What do you want to watch such a baby programme for?’ asked Maddie, snatching the remote to change the channel.
‘Oh, let her. She can’t help being a bit young for her age,’ said Phil.
‘I’m not young for my age. I just like Ruby Red,’ I said.
Ruby talked about Christmas and dressed up as Santa Claus, and told us to send in pictures of our favourite present. In another episode she talked about zoos and pretended to be different animals, and then asked us for pictures of elephants and giraffes and monkeys. The next day she talked about food, and made rock buns, and told us to send her a picture of our favourite cake. There were so many Ruby Red programmes and I loved them all. I longed to draw her a picture, but there wasn’t time. I was too busy spelling.
Then it was time to go back to school again. I suddenly felt scared, as if it was my first day in the Juniors all over again. I was really worried about seeing Selma. I didn’t know how to react. I still felt so angry that she had secretly kept Baby all that time – but I also felt sorry for her, living with such a mean stepdad. I kept thinking of her face, all sad and tear-stained, and it made my stomach go upside down.
I was also scared of forgetting my spellings when Miss Lovejoy tested me. I knew them all, but now each night I dreamed that when it came to the test they all flew out of my ears and I was left not being able to spell a single one.
‘I don’t feel well, Mum,’ I said at breakfast. It was true. I felt hot and yet shivery, and too sick to eat anything.
Mum felt my forehead and looked anxious. ‘Oh dear, don’t say you’re going down with something your first day back at school!’ she said.
‘I think Tina’s just a bit worried about school, that’s all,’ said Dad. ‘I always used to get the collywobbles on my first day back.’
Collywobbles was such a funny word I couldn’t help laughing, and then I did feel a bit better.
‘Don’t worry, Tina. You’ll do brilliantly when Miss Lovejoy tests you,’ said Phil. ‘You’re a much better speller than Maddie or me now.’
‘And don’t worry about Selma,’ Maddie whispered. ‘We’ll get your old Baby back, and we’ll bash her up for stealing her.’
‘I’m not sure I’ll remember my spellings. And I don’t want Selma bashed up. She’s still my friend – at least I think she is.’
But when we got to the playground Selma didn’t come over to say hello. The moment she saw us she marched off and stood right at the other end.
‘There! She isn’t your friend any more,’ said Maddie.
Selma wouldn’t even talk to me in class. We still sat on the same table, but she didn’t once lean over Alistair and talk to me the way she used to.
‘It’s surprisingly peaceful now,’ said Alistair.
It was too quiet. I didn’t like it at all, especially when I saw Selma talking to Kayleigh. Was she going to be Kayleigh’s friend again?
I decided to have it out with her at playtime, but Miss Lovejoy collared me the second the bell went.
‘Not so fast, Tina. You and I have to attend to a little spelling test. Remember?’
‘Oh. A spelling test,’ I said, as if I hadn’t thought about it all holiday.
‘Oh dear, haven’t you been practising?’ Miss Lovejoy looked disappointed.
‘A little bit,’ I said.
‘Well, just do your best,’ she told me. ‘Now, does anyone else want to keep Tina company doing a very hard spelling test, or would you sooner go out and play?’
Naturally they all made for the classroom door. Phil and Maddie dithered as they went out.
‘Would you like us to stay, Tin
a?’ asked Phil.
‘We will if you really want us to,’ said Maddie.
Selma didn’t offer to stay. She’d already gone. Yet it was going to be just as much her butterfly garden as mine.
I felt hurt and angry. All right, I’d spell all by myself. I shook my head at dear kind Phil and Maddie.
‘You go and play,’ I said. ‘I’ll be fine.’
‘That’s the spirit, Tina.’ Miss Lovejoy poured herself a cup of tea from a vacuum flask and opened a packet of chocolate biscuits. ‘Excuse me having my playtime snack. Would you like a biscuit to nibble on too?’
That made me feel a bit better. My insides were starting to feel horribly wobbly and empty. What if I couldn’t remember any of the spellings, like in my dreams? I tried to run through them in my head, but they were all jumbled up.
Miss Lovejoy got out her long list. ‘Let’s begin. Spell little.’
That wasn’t fair. Little wasn’t first on the list. It should be Philippa and then Madeleine. I couldn’t do it if she didn’t ask the words in the right order.
Then I thought of Grandad. ‘Yes, you can do it, pet,’ he said inside my head. ‘Just think of the song, remember.’
Little had a teeny tiny song in a whispery voice, because it was a little word. I wrote it down quickly while I remembered it.
Remember was the next word. I always used to put in too many ‘m’s and ‘b’s. But Grandad had sung it in a jerky, funny way – r-e-m-e-m-b-e-r – so that remember was easy-peasy to remember! I wrote it down.
I wrote down all fifty of the words. We were still working our way through them when the bell rang. Miss Lovejoy made the class sit down quietly and do silent reading while we carried on.
Alistair tried to whisper the correct spellings to me. He was only being helpful but it started to confuse me.
‘Alistair, I have a roll of sellotape in my desk drawer. Don’t make me have to seal your lips up,’ said Miss Lovejoy.
The Butterfly Club Page 14