by Anne Fine
“Snail Show!”
“Snail Show!”
“It was horrible!” cried Mrs Mackle. “Horrible! Horrible! It was the worst sight that I have ever seen in all my years of babysitting. And if I live to be a hundred years old, Susan Solly will always be the worst child I ever had!”
“There, there,” soothed Flora. Try and calm yourself. It’s all over now.”
“That’s right,” agreed Jeff. “You said yourself, all this happened a long time ago.”
He put his arms around the shaking Mrs Mackle as the leaves of the tree overhead rustled gently and, six feet above him, Susan Solly smiled.
“Time to go home,” Jeff said. “This afternoon seems to have gone very fast. It’s almost tea time.”
Pulling her coat around her shoulders, Mrs Mackle slipped the brake off the pram.
“See you tomorrow,” she said, and set off for the north gate.
“Cheerio,” said Flora, wheeling the pushchair towards the west gate.
Jeff strapped the twins into the double buggy.
“Bye!” he called over his shoulder as he hurried off to the east gate.
There was a moment’s silence. Then, with a rustle of leaves, young Susan Solly slid easily down the tree trunk and set off, calm as you please, across the park to the south gate and 25, Redlands Road.
She was still smiling.