by Jean Ure
And then I had an idea and thought that as a surprise I would re-organise her kitchen for her while she was upstairs one day having her afternoon nap. I did this for Mum, once, and she was ever so pleased. She said, “Oh, Mandy, that’s brilliant!” It was, too. Before I got at it Mum’s kitchen had been a proper mess, what with saucepans on the floor and the chip pan under the cooker (once we even found mouse droppings in it).
Nan didn’t have saucepans on the floor and she didn’t have a chip pan at all, ‘cos she uses oven-ready, but I could think of all kinds of things I could do that would be an improvement.
First I moved the vegetable rack and put it where the saucepans were, then I put the saucepans where the waste bin was, and then I put the waste bin by the back door.
Next I re-arranged all the cups on their little hooks, and then I changed the plates and cereal bowls around, and then I put the spice rack over near the cooker and tidied up all the sieves and the ladles and the things for crushing garlic and for chopping eggs and mashing spuds. Nan has a whole load of stuff in her kitchen! Ever so much more than Mum.
It took me a whole hour to get it all worked out. It looked really good! I honestly thought Nan would be pleased with me.
But she wasn’t.
She made me put it all back again.
“Everything … just the way you found it!”
I said, “But, Nan, it didn’t make sense the way you’d got some of this stuff. I mean, you need saucepans by the cooker. And the waste bin—”
Nan said, “I’ll have my saucepans where I’ve always had my saucepans, if you don’t mind! And my waste bin.”
I tried ever so hard to be patient with her. Because, I mean, she is quite old. I explained how she really needed to plan things so she didn’t have to keep walking to and fro all the time. I said, “You see, Nan, it’s a terrible waste of energy. When people get to your age—”
Nan just exploded. There was, like, steam coming out of her ears.
She said, “Mandy Small, I have had just about as much as I can take of you and your bossy ways! I think it’s high time you went back and bossed your mum and dad, instead.”
Oh! I was so happy I rushed right across the kitchen and hugged her.
Me! Hugging Nan! I’ve never done such a thing in my life before. Nan just isn’t a hugging sort of person.
But she didn’t seem to mind. She said, “I reckon you’ll do. Though whether those parents of yours will have learnt anything is another matter.”
I didn’t care whether Mum and Dad had learnt anything or not. I just wanted to get back to them!
The day I came home was the VERY BEST DAY OF MY LIFE. Mum threw her arms round me and I threw my arms round Mum and Dad threw his arms round both of us and we laughed and cried until we couldn’t laugh or cry any more.
Mum and Dad wanted to tell me all about their classes they’d been having.
“We’ve learnt a thing or two, Mand!”
“We’re going to be model parents from now on!”
Then Dad wanted to show me all the things he’d done around the place while I’d been away.
“See? I’ve put up that shelf in your bedroom at long last.”
He had, too! He’d chopped up Nan’s horrible old wardrobe and now I had the shelf that I’d always wanted. (I didn’t ask where my clothes were going to go ‘cos that might have upset them. At the moment they were all in piles on the floor, but I thought probably we’d be able to find a rail or something at a boot sale. Anyway, who cares about clothes! My shelf was more important.)
Mum said that she’d been round the secondhand shops finding little ornaments to go on it.
“Little cats and dogs … I knew you’d like those.”
As well as Dad doing things the Council had got on to the landlord and now we had a brand new water heater that worked first time without blowing the place up.
The floorboards had been fixed, and so had the roof.
And Dad had used up all his orangey-browny paint! He’d painted everything – the landing, the kitchen, the sitting-room, his and mum’s bedroom, my bedroom, even the ceilings. They were all orangey-browny!
“Doesn’t it look beautiful?” said Mum.
It did! It looked beautiful. Not really like sick at all.
“See, we’ve turned over a new leaf,” said Mum. “We’re going to keep the place nice from now on.”
“That’s right,” said Dad. “Keep it in good nick.”
“No more black eyes. No more broken heads.”
“No more accidents of any kind. Come and have a look at this!”
Dad grabbed me by the hand and whizzed me into the kitchen. “See that?” He pointed, ever so proudly, at the kitchen cabinet. It was back on the wall. “There for good, this time,” said Dad. “That won’t be coming down again in a hurry!”
After I’d been shown all the wonderful things that had happened while I was away, Mum suddenly said, “Oh, I almost forgot! Miss Daley called about an hour ago. There’s something she wants to tell you. She said it was important. You’d better ring her.”
Me, ring Cat?
“I haven’t got her number,” I said.
“I have,” said Mum. She sounded really pleased with herself. “Look! I wrote it down. See?”
“Does she really want me to ring her?” I said. I don’t know why, but for some reason I suddenly felt nervous. I mean … me? Ring Cat?
“Yes, go on!” said Mum. “I’ll dial it for you.”
I just couldn’t believe it when Cat told me the news. She said that “some bits of my book” – what she called “extracts” – were going to be put on display at the Town Hall! She said it was an exhibition of “creative activity” in the borough and that I’d been chosen out of hundreds of others. *What we had to do was get together and decide which bits we wanted to use. Not, unfortunately, the bits about Tracey Bigg! Cat said, “Some of the bits with the drawings. How about that?”
Fine by me! The drawings are what I like best. So now, yippee, I’m a Real Author!
“Of course, you do realise,” said Cat, and she sounded sort of anxious, “there won’t be any money attached to it?”
I knew that! I’ve known all along that I wouldn’t really make my fortune. That was just a game I played. Pretending. I was just happy that everyone was going to see my name!
Mum and Dad were really thrilled.
“Get that!” chuckled Dad. “Our Mand’s going to be a celebrity!”
“Yes,” I said, “and I’ve drawn pictures of you and Mum, so you’ll be celebrities as well. And I won’t give any secrets away,” I added, just in case he was still bothered.
But Dad was too proud and excited to care about secrets.
“This calls for a celebration!” he cried; and he decided that we would all go up the road to the Indian restaurant.
So that was what we did. And it was a really perfect evening. It started off being happy and it ended up even happier. Mum didn’t cry, and nothing got spilt, and as we walked home Dad sang some of his Elvis songs while me and Mum swung hands.
I love my mum and dad! They’d tried so hard while I’d been away. They’d done so much. But I couldn’t help giving this little secret smile as I looked at that kitchen cabinet. I thought to myself, “I bet it won’t still be up there this time next week …”
Guess what?
I was right
It wasn’t!
Fruit and nut case, here I come!
* Note from Cat’s mum: Thank you! Very much appreciated!
* Note from Cat’s mum: Well done!
Also by Jean Ure
Lemonade Sky
Love and Kisses
Fortune Cookie
Star Crazy Me!
Over the Moon
Boys Beware
Sugar and Spice
Is Anybody There?
Secret Meeting
Passion Flower
Shrinking Violet
Boys on the Brain
Sk
inny Melon and Me
Becky Bananas, This is Your Life!
Fruit and Nutcase
The Secret Life of Sally Tomato
Family Fan Club
Ice Lolly
Special three-in-one editions
The Tutti-Frutti Collection
The Flower Power Collection
The Friends Forever Collection
And for younger readers
Dazzling Danny
Daisy May
Monster in the Mirror
Copyright
HarperCollins Children’s Books
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
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Hammersmith
London, W6 8JB
www.harpercollins.co.uk
First published in Great Britain by Collins 1998
Text copyright © Jean Ure 1998
Illustrations copyright © Mick Brownfield 1998
Cover illustrations by Nicola Slater
The author and illustrator assert the moral right
to be identified as the author and illustrator of the work.
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Source ISBN: 9780007121533
Ebook Edition © JUNE 2013 ISBN: 9780007402168
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