Izzy's River

by Holly Webb

  The girls beamed at him, and Mr Finlay sighed. “All right. What needs doing?”

  “Nothing, sir,” Izzy promised. “Unless you feel like making some cakes?”

  Izzy had enough pocket money saved up to buy quite a lot of cake ingredients, so that weekend she turned the kitchen into a cake production line. She had decided to make chocolate fairy cakes and cornflake cakes – she was sure they were the things that sold best, as almost everyone loved chocolate. Though Emily was right – on a Tuesday lunch time, even the grottiest-looking cake would probably sell. She mixed up a big batch of green icing while the fairy cakes were cooking, and then cut out lots of tiny little orange icing fish. She knew goldfish wouldn’t really be swimming in the river (probably there weren’t any fish at all there right now) but orange looked better than grey or brown.

  On Monday night she made chocolate chip cookies as well, and when they set off for school on Tuesday morning, every available surface of the truck was covered in plates of cakes wrapped in clingfilm – her dad even had one on his lap.

  “Oh, Izzy, you’ve made loads!” Maya said admiringly, waiting by the gate to help her carry them in.

  “Has anyone else brought any?” Izzy asked hopefully. They’d told all their class about the fundraising, and asked for more cakes if people could bring them.

  Maya rolled her eyes. “Quite a few – and guess what! Ali made some!”

  “Really?” Izzy stared at her. “Ali made cakes for us?”

  “Yup.”

  “Well, make sure you tell me which ones they are because I was going to buy some to take home, and I don’t want to die poisoned.” Izzy shook her head. “Do you think she’s still trying to get you to be friends with her then?”

  Maya nodded. “She keeps smiling at me. And she asked me to be her partner for tennis in PE yesterday, did you see?”

  Izzy shook her head. “I was probably thinking about cake recipes,” she admitted. “She’s not giving up, is she?”

  “Not sure she knows the meaning of it,” Maya muttered.

  Mrs Angel had said they could put all the cakes in the hall, on a couple of tables – they would have to move them out to the playground at lunch time, when the hall got turned into a lunch room. Mrs Angel said it wasn’t fair to put cakes right next to the school lunches – they had to be a little distance away…

  Poppy and Emily were already there, admiring the cakes, and Izzy stared delightedly at the full tables. “There’s loads! Oh, Emily, you made your peppermint fish! They look fab!”

  Emily smiled proudly at the plates of fish – they were quite big, with silver balls for eyes, and loopy dribbles of chocolate to make scales. “Good, aren’t they? I got Mum to help me find a recipe, and she was having so much fun she made Dad take the boys out for a bike ride last night, and me and Mum and Suzy made them. Well, we gave Suzy some mixture and she made worms out of it. There are fifty of them,” she added proudly. “And Mum says we can donate the ingredients. She bought them for me, and I was going to pay her back, but she said it was a good cause, and we had a great time doing them, so she doesn’t mind.”

  “That’s brilliant,” Izzy said happily. “And guess what, my dad has a friend who works for a skip company, and he rang him and asked how much a skip would be, and they’re giving us a discount! But we have to try and get in the paper, and say thank you to them for giving us it cheap. Sampson Skip Hire, they’re called. And if he’s not driving skips around, my dad’s friend’s going to come and help too!”

  “So how much do you reckon we need to raise?” Maya asked anxiously.

  “The skip’s only going to be fifty pounds. So we need to cover some of the costs of the cakes, and have enough for some bin bags too.”

  “I looked at bin bags in the supermarket when we went to buy the cake ingredients,” Poppy put in. “How many will we need? Maybe a hundred? That would be about fifteen pounds.”

  “One cake sale isn’t going to get us more than sixty-five pounds,” Izzy sighed.

  “I don’t know, there’s an awful lot of cake,” Emily pointed out, waving at the full tables.

  “Who made that gorgeous big one with all the sweets on top?” Izzy asked, noticing a huge purple iced cake, covered in jelly jewels, which was hidden at the back of one of the tables.

  “Anna did, and I helped with the icing and the sweets.” Maya grinned. “Anna loves making cakes but with Mum and Dad away so much, she doesn’t make them very often. I think she’d love us to have a cake sale every week.” Anna was Maya’s mum’s housekeeper, and she looked after Maya whenever her parents were away. Maya eyed the cake hungrily. “Even though it’s making me starving, it does seem a pity to slice it up. But no one from school’s going to buy a whole cake.”

  “Guess the weight of the cake!” Poppy yelled suddenly. “They had that at the fete we went to last weekend! We make people pay fifty pence to guess. That’s bound to raise more money than cutting it up.”

  “And the person who gets it right gets the cake?” Izzy nodded. “That sounds brilliant.”

  “Oh, except we don’t know how much it weighs…” Poppy sighed.

  “Mrs Brooker’s got some scales in the office, for weighing parcels before she sends them in the post. I’ve seen her do it.” Izzy looked at the cake, and shook her head. “I’m not carrying it, I’d die if I dropped it. You do it, Maya.”

  They hurried Maya down the corridors to the office, with Emily marching in front, calling, “Gangway!” and “Cake coming through!”

  “This is good, lots of people are admiring it,” Poppy pointed out. The bell had just gone, and school was heaving. “You have to guess the weight of it,” she told some Year Four girls who were staring hungrily at the jelly jewels. “We’ll bring it round all the classes later. Hopefully,” she added.

  Mrs Brooker only sighed when they arrived at her office begging for scales. She handed them over, and some paper to make lists of weights. “I’m not looking, girls. But I want a go. I’m guessing, mmm, one kilogram, six hundred and thirty-four grams.” She handed Izzy fifty pence.

  “No, it isn’t nearly that much, surely.” One of the mums who’d come in to order a new uniform peered at the cake.

  “Would you like a guess?” Izzy asked hopefully.

  “Go on then. But if I win, you’re not to give it to Max! It’ll never come home. One kilo exactly. That’s easy to remember.”

  “A pound already and we haven’t even started the cake sale,” Izzy said smugly, jingling the box she’d brought for the money as they hurried to their classroom.

  By twenty minutes into lunch time, Izzy was wishing she’d brought a bigger box. She was scrabbling around trying to find change, and write down people’s names on the Guess the Weight of the Cake list at the same time.

  “Why are my cakes shoved at the back?” Ali snapped at her, and Izzy’s heart thumped painfully as she tried to think of something to say.

  “They aren’t…” she muttered feebly. But they were. Mostly because they didn’t look all that good. Izzy thought that Ali had done what she usually ended up doing – not waited for them to cool down before she put the icing on, so it just ran off the top and left bald icingless cake in the middle.

  “If you don’t want them, I’ll have them back!” Ali snarled, but Maya turned round from the other end of the stall, and Ali smiled in a sickly sort of way.

  “What’s the matter?” Maya asked, noticing the flushed spots on Izzy’s cheeks.

  “I was just seeing how my cakes were doing,” Ali purred. “Did your mum make any, Maya?”

  “No. She’s away. ’Scuse me, someone else wants to buy something.” Maya hurried back to her place, but she was watching Izzy, and so were Poppy and Emily.

  Ali shrugged and wandered away with her friends.

  “I think we ought to put a label on her cakes that says Cut-price Bargain Seconds,” Izzy whispered to Poppy, wishing she’d thought of it in time to say to Ali – and been brave enough, which she wasn’
t.

  She sighed. Maybe one day.

  Between the cake sale and guessing the weight of the jewelled sponge, the girls had made enough to cover the cost of the skip, but they were still short of the money for the bin bags. But that Friday afternoon, Izzy’s dad met her out of school with a huge grin on his face. He was waving a newspaper.

  “What is it?” Izzy asked, smiling back even though she didn’t know why – she couldn’t help it, he looked so pleased.

  “This newspaper article! You’ve solved your bin-bag problem.”

  Izzy frowned. “The paper! Did they put it in? Show me!”

  Her dad held out the paper. It wasn’t the front page, but it was still a big piece, with a photo of the girls holding up Maya and Anna’s lovely cake, and explaining that they hadn’t yet raised enough money to fund the clean-up. There was a photo of the river too, looking a total mess, and Poppy had even managed to get a picture of Billy looking mournful, and holding up his paw (it was actually the wrong one, but no one would ever know). The paper promised that there would be photos of the restored riverside too, if the clean-up went ahead.

  “The supermarket rang me – the manager saw the article this morning, and he wants to donate the bin bags to the cause.”

  “It’s us!” Poppy came running up, looking at the photo.

  “They should rename that paper the Park Road Girls News,” a boy from their class said as he walked past. Poppy aimed a half-hearted kick at him.

  “We’ve got bin bags!” Izzy squawked, grabbing Poppy and swinging her round. Then they collapsed into giggles. It sounded such a silly thing to be celebrating.

  At last Poppy let go of her. “I’d better go, I can see Mum waving. See you tomorrow! About ten, OK?”

  Izzy nodded. The girls were all meeting up at Poppy’s house to go and look at the river bank, and make their last plans for the clean-up. She was really looking forward to it.

  “Wow,” Maya murmured, staring around her. She looked a little daunted.

  Izzy nodded, and swallowed. “I was worrying this morning that there might not be enough rubbish to fill a skip, and all these people were going to turn up next weekend, and there’d be hardly anything for them to do…”

  Emily shook her head. “Ummm, not so much.”

  “It’s good, really,” Poppy said, trying to sound positive. “It means it definitely needs doing. Think how good it will be when it’s all tidied up.”

  “I know.” Izzy stared around. “But somehow it looks a lot worse than when we last saw it. I don’t remember the bridge being so covered in graffiti before, either.”

  “It’s the rain,” Poppy agreed, huddling further into her waterproof and peering out at the drizzle. “It makes everything look worse. Horrible, isn’t it? I hope it isn’t like this next weekend, that would make it really miserable.”

  “Uuurrrgh, don’t.” Emily shivered. “It’s supposed to be summer but I’m freezing.” Then she jumped as lightning flashed across the dark grey sky over the water. “Oh, no, I hate thunderstorms,” she wailed.

  “And it’s going to tip it down any minute.” Maya looked up at the clouds. “Eeek, that was close,” she added, as the thunder cracked and growled all round them. “I was going to say let’s go back to yours, Poppy, but isn’t there anywhere nearer? We’re going to get soaked.” Fat raindrops were already falling heavily, splashing into the river and pitting the water with little dimples.

  “What about under the bridge?” Izzy asked. The rain was getting heavier and heavier, and she didn’t fancy legging it back to Poppy’s house in this. “Look, there’s even a bit of wall sticking out where we can sit down.” She led the way along the bank to the bridge, and they huddled underneath, sitting on part of the brickwork that jutted out like a narrow bench.

  “It’s quite cosy under here,” Maya said, pushing back her hood. “No rain’s getting in at all.”

  “And I’ve just found a packet of mints in my coat pocket,” Poppy said happily, handing them round. “Cheer up, Ems, we’ll be fine under here.”

  “If we don’t get struck by lightning,” Emily said gloomily, shivering as the thunder rumbled around them again.

  “We won’t!” Poppy put an arm round her. “Don’t be so miserable.”

  Izzy was sucking her mint, and staring out at the sludge-grey water. She looked round at the others worriedly. “I’ve just had a horrible thought.”

  “What?” Maya asked anxiously. “Not something else that costs money? I thought we were all sorted.”

  Izzy shook her head. “No. Look at all that water.”

  Emily scowled. “We know there’s water, that’s why it’s called a river.”

  Everyone else ignored her, knowing she was still upset about the thunder.

  “What do you mean, Izzy?” Poppy asked.

  “It’s full of rubbish – not just that bike that Billy got caught in, but loads of other stuff. And lots of it’s right out in the middle of the river. How are we ever going to get that out? We won’t be able to reach it.”

  The others looked round at the water. “We didn’t think of that,” Poppy said slowly. “Oh, rats…”

  “However much we clean up the bank, the water’s still going to look a mess,” Maya sighed.

  “We need a boat,” Emily muttered. “And no, I haven’t got one.”

  “My dad has,” Maya said, without really thinking about it. “But it’s in France, so that’s no use.” Then she blushed, realising she sounded as though she was showing off. “Sorry…”

  Emily laughed. “You’re so funny.”

  Poppy squeaked. “Boats! I know where we can get a boat! Well, not a boat exactly, but close.”

  “You haven’t got a boat you’ve not been telling us about?” Emily asked her disbelievingly.

  “No, stupid. But Alex has got a canoe!”

  “Ohhhh!” Izzy looked at the water thoughtfully. “A canoe would do, wouldn’t it?”

  Emily peered out at the rain. “Has Alex said he’ll help, then?”

  “Nooo…” Poppy admitted.

  “Because I can’t see him paddling up and down the river all weekend picking up rubbish, somehow.”

  A smile spread slowly across Poppy’s face. “You’re totally right,” she said happily. “Absolutely right. But he will. Won’t he, Izzy?”

  “Why? Oh!” Izzy laughed. “Yes, I think he will… You’re so mean, Poppy!” But her voice was admiring.

  “Have you got something on him?” Emily asked eagerly. “You have, haven’t you? Something he wasn’t supposed to have done? Something you can threaten to tell your mum about?” She sighed. “Toby and James are always trying to do that to me, but luckily they’re useless at it. As if Mum cares that I got ketchup down my skirt. Not much, anyway. Not enough for it to be worth six toffee bonbons, which is what they were asking for.”

  Izzy and Maya, who were both only children, exchanged “we’re so lucky” looks.

  “Alex had a date two weekends ago,” Poppy said smugly. “A secret date. And then he went out with her again last weekend, and he’s supposed to be seeing her today too, to go shopping.”

  “Why’s it so secret?” Maya asked.

  “Well, because he doesn’t want anyone to know – me and Izzy heard him on the phone. But mostly because the girl he’s going out with is somebody my other brother fancies. Alex doesn’t want to tell him.”

  “So you’re going to blackmail him into helping us by threatening to tell Jake?” Emily asked.

  Poppy nodded. “Yeeees.” It did sound a bit mean, now Emily said it like that. She eyed her doubtfully. Was it too horrible a thing to do?

  “Excellent.” Emily grinned at her.

  They hurried back as soon as the rain eased off, although Emily kept flinching every time a car drove past, thinking it was thunder again.

  “Mum, is Alex home?” Poppy asked as soon as they got into the house.

  “Yes, I think he’s in the living room. You poor things, I saw all that rain
, you must have been soaked.”

  “It wasn’t too bad, we sat under the bridge,” Izzy explained, before Poppy hauled her out of the room.

  Alex was lying on the sofa with his phone balanced on his stomach, texting. “What do you want?” he growled at Poppy, looking slightly confused by the line-up of his sister’s friends.

  “You,” Poppy told him sweetly. “You and your canoe. Next weekend.”

  Alex stared at her. “What for?”

  “You know we’re doing this big tidy-up of the river,” Poppy explained.

  “We can’t reach the rubbish that’s in the water,” Izzy told him. “We’ve just been to see it. There’s loads.”

  “Umm…” Alex seemed to feel a bit embarrassed about telling his sister’s friends to get lost, which was obviously what he wanted to do. “That’s sad, but––”

  “If you don’t come and help us, we’ll tell Jake about you and Maddy.” Poppy smiled even more sweetly.

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “Yes, we would,” all the girls chorused.

  “You could bring Maddy too – she’s got a canoe, hasn’t she?” Poppy suggested slyly. “It might be a fun date.”

  “I hate you…” Alex growled. “All right. I’ll do it.”

  “Could you ask other people at your canoe club?” Izzy asked him hopefully. “It would be easier if there were more of you. There’s quite a lot of stuff in the river…”

  “I’ll ask,” Alex muttered. “Now get lost.”

  “Bye, Alex!”

  “Thanks, Alex!”

  “We love you, Alex!”

  The girls lay around Poppy’s bedroom, their damp clothes steaming gently.

  “Is there anything else we have to do?” Maya asked Izzy.

  “I don’t think so.” Izzy had her list in front of her. “Just hope people turn up, I suppose. We have to pick up the gloves and the high-vis vests and the litter-pickers on Friday, but Dad says we can do that after school.”