‘It was last year,’ Joanna replied with a giggle. ‘Boo hoo.’
‘See?’ Bob said. ‘What Penelope did wasn’t a big deal.’
‘Right,’ came Tilly’s voice.
‘Penelope also had a major meltdown in …’ But Rita’s voice trailed off as the others all agreed with Bob.
‘Yeah, of course it wasn’t,’ Joanna said.
‘It so wasn’t last year, Joanna,’ Tilly continued. ‘And stop sticking your tongue out. It’s disgusting.’
Penelope could hear Joanna’s giggle getting smaller and smaller as the girls left the toilets. She snuck a peek under the door to check there was no-one left. Then she left the cubicle and tidied her ponytail in front of the mirror, smiling at her ref lection. Bob was absolutely going to be the greatest best friend in the whole world.
All she had to do now was to keep following Grandpa George’s advice.
As Penelope had expected, going with the flow was very difficult. At recess, she found herself sitting at the benches in the courtyard (frying in the hot sun) rather than under the shady tree, because most of the other girls (including Bob) were on the benches too.
Things were back to normal. The girls were so full of chatter that Penelope hardly got a word in. Ordinarily, Penelope would have forced her way into the discussion, even if it was about Rita’s boy band, or some silly crush Eliza had.
But today, especially after what happened in the girls toilets, Penelope was determined not to force anything.
At lunchtime, going with the flow was almost impossible. Joanna (the naughtiest girl in the class) had brought water balloons to school. She filled them up at the taps and tossed them randomly at people, which was definitely against school rules.
Penelope stood at the top of the hill and watched. Sarah was the first girl to be water-bombed. She was running away from Joanna, so Penelope could only see her back. But even from a distance, Penelope could see the mark it made on the back of her dress. Penelope held her breath as she saw Sarah’s shoulders shaking, but when Sarah turned around, she realised the shaking was from laughter.
So, they were having fun. Nobody was getting hurt. And water was just water. It wouldn’t leave a stain.
Penelope remembered to breathe. This was the correct way to think when you were going with the f low. As another water bomb exploded in Alison Cromwell’s hair, Penelope didn’t even hold her breath. There may have been an extra-long blink, but that was all. And even though the teacher on yard duty, Mr Joseph, was supposed to be aware of what was happening in the playground, but had no idea (just like the day Penelope had earned her ‘Watchful Eye’ award), Penelope didn’t say a word to him.
By the time the school day had finished, Penelope had spoken with Bob exactly once.
Even if Bob did think Penelope was nice, and even though she had stuck up for her in the toilets, Penelope doubted that this conversation could, in any way, be considered the beginning of a very special friendship.
Every Tuesday night (even after her daughter had a rather difficult and very complicated day) Penelope’s mother went to Zumba class, so dinner was make-your-own. Penelope looked through the shopping bags on the kitchen bench. She was pretty sure that microwave macaroni and cheese wouldn’t fulfil the requirements of the food pyramid. But she could put some carrots on the side, though she was almost certain that Harry (who was upstairs on his computer) wouldn’t eat them.
Penelope was putting the groceries away and thinking about her very complicated day when she felt something oblong and hard underneath the last brown paper shopping bag.
Penelope lifted the bag up. Then she gasped, because what was under the bag was entirely the sort of thing to inspire a gasp. It was a proper gasp, too, where her mouth opened into an O and then she clapped a hand over it.
Right there, on the bench in front of her, was an entire tin of fifty-two Derwents. It was brand new, still with the plastic covering. On top of the tin of fifty-two Derwents was a yellow sticky note with her mum’s scribbly writing on it.
Hey Poss,
I hope your day went OK.
Mum x
Penelope clutched the Derwents to her chest where she was quite sure her heart was. The tin felt cool against her school dress.
A little tear blurred her vision for a moment, but not because she was sad.
On Wednesday morning, before her mum got up, Penelope slipped a very lovely and very Derwent-colourful picture under her door.
Wednesday went pretty much the same way Tuesday had. So did Thursday. There always seemed to be a crowd around Bob, and Penelope hardly got a chance to talk to her. Penelope was seriously beginning to wonder if going with the flow was going to work.
It was a relief to stay back after school on Thursday to help Ms Pike prepare for their monthly session at the aged care centre down the road. Penelope loved going there. Sometimes the children would sing a song. Other times, someone would recite a poem.
At the last performance, Joanna had, unexpectedly, done a very nice job with The Man from Snowy River, which had made two of the elderly folk tear up.
For their visit on Friday afternoon, the class was going to perform a lovely bright song that Mrs Raven, the music teacher, had taught them called Love and Marriage. Penelope had noticed that Bob was a quick learner. She knew all the words already, even though she’d missed most of the rehearsals.
Penelope suspected that some of the boys (not Oscar) were deliberately forgetting the lyrics. She had suggested a solution to Ms Pike, and was now writing the lyrics, very clearly, on a large piece of cardboard so there could be no excuse.
It was very pleasant sitting in the classroom alone with Ms Pike. Ms Pike’s voice was lovely as she dictated the words. Penelope particularly liked the line, they go together like a horse and carriage. She liked the idea of things going together so neatly.
Penelope couldn’t help worrying about who she would end up partnering with on the way to the aged care centre. Going with the f low was taking an exceptionally long time to work, so it clearly wouldn’t be with Bob. If it had to be a boy (which had happened before), she hoped it would be Oscar. But with each moment she spent with Ms Pike, Penelope felt calmer and more settled.
Walking home afterwards, Penelope still had a bit of the calm feeling inside her. As she passed her favourite house, she paused. There was a big truck in the driveway. Two muscly men were tilting a couch, trying to fit it through the front door.
Penelope sighed. Obviously her dream of living in the house was over. She looked up at the open bay window.
‘Penelope! Come in!’ Bob yelled, waving down at her.
Penelope stood on the footpath, her heart racing. Maybe it was because it was such a big change from feeling so calm, but she felt as though a panicked horse had lost its way and was galloping wildly inside her chest.
At last, this was an opportunity to spend some time with Bob. But it was entirely unexpected. Penelope was not prepared. She would have to think up a conversation topic on the spot.
She could also try to explain that the way she’d acted after her leg got thwacked in Dodgeball was how anyone would have acted, and that it was a very rare outburst (and definitely not a tantrum). But she suspected that wasn’t an actual topic of conversation.
Penelope took one of her biggest ever extremely deep breaths. I’m going with the flow, she chanted inside her head, a little bit for herself and a little bit for her grandpa, who could (sometimes) pick up on Penelope’s thought waves. She pulled out her phone and quickly texted her mum to say she would be late home, adding an ‘x’ at the end.
‘Sure,’ she called up to Bob, very casually. ‘I’m coming in.’ But Bob wasn’t at the window any more.
Penelope stepped cautiously inside the open door.
The house was as elegant on the inside as it was on the outside. Even the fact that there were boxes all over the place and no furniture in the foyer couldn’t hide it. The ceilings were so high, they made Penelope feel even sm
aller than usual.
Bob was standing at the bottom of some very grand stairs. Behind her was a man with a big smile and heavy glasses.
‘Dad, this is Penelope,’ Bob introduced her.
Bob’s dad extended his hand and lowered his head as though Penelope was an important guest. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you,’ he said.
Penelope felt funny as she shook his hand. It was always a bit odd meeting fathers who actually lived with their kids. Some of them were not at all nice or polite, so they didn’t affect her much. But when they were nice and polite, like Bob’s father, something seemed to tickle (or maybe scratch) Penelope’s heart in an uncomfortable way.
Luckily, Bob didn’t seem to notice the tickling or scratching.
‘Come and see my room,’ she said, stomping barefoot up the stairs without waiting for Penelope to answer. ‘It’s awesome. Kind of like a fairytale bedroom. It feels like Rapunzel might have hung out there once upon a time.’
Penelope felt a smile playing around her lips.
As they arrived at her bedroom door, Bob grinned and threw up her hands at the same time, as though she was happy with her new room but also in despair at the state of it. Penelope peeked inside. There was a bed in the centre of the room, but that was all. Nothing was unpacked. Twelve rather large boxes were stacked in the corner.
Bob shrugged. ‘It’s going to take fifteen forevers to get my stuff sorted,’ she said.
Penelope tilted her head. She wasn’t fond of sayings that didn’t make sense. A while ago, Oscar had said he was going to put 110% into a school assignment. Penelope had pointed out how silly that was. (Now, since the sausage incident, she kind of wished she hadn’t.)
Penelope let Bob’s ‘fifteen forevers’ go without comment.
Getting sorted was something she excelled at, and it would not take her even one forever to do it.
‘Would you like me to help?’ she asked.
‘Seriously Penelope, you are a legend! I could never have made my own room look this awesome on my own!’
Penelope smiled. Bob’s bedroom was coming along nicely. Her clothes were colour coded, which was important, since the clothes rack was exposed.
Bob’s personal knick-knacks were all out on display, including an interesting array of plastic moulded animals. Penelope had arranged them carefully on the shelf in front of the bay window, making sure that no predator was close to its prey.
As well as making the room look great, Penelope had also found out many things about Bob. She now knew, for instance, that Bob’s mother had a Very Big Job and that the family had shifted several times because of it. She knew that this was the first house Bob’s family had ever owned, and that this was because Bob’s mother had landed the Very Biggest Job, so (hopefully) they would not have to move again.
She also knew that Bob was feeling quite frustrated (and Penelope could definitely relate to this) because she couldn’t find her collection of books. She would have to hunt forever if she was going to bring her favourite book to class the next day. (Penelope offered to lend Bob one of hers, but Bob said thanks for the offer, but that it wouldn’t be right.)
So far, Bob didn’t know much about Penelope, though. It had been so nice working on the bedroom and listening to Bob chatting away that Penelope had quite forgotten, even about the video on her phone.
Penelope opened the second-last box and pulled out a print. It was a painting of a bridge over a pond covered in lilies. It was quite a nice painting, although secretly Penelope thought it might be better if it was a little less fuzzy.
‘Do you want it here?’ she asked Bob, indicating some bare wall space.
Bob shook her head. ‘Not there,’ she said. ‘That space is reserved.’
‘What for?’ Penelope asked.
Bob’s grin was contagious, even though Penelope wasn’t sure why she was grinning.
‘I’ll show you,’ Bob said.
The next thing Penelope knew, Bob was doing a handstand against the wall. She was a bit worried, since the walls were white and Bob’s bare feet looked a little grubby, but she decided not to say anything. It was Bob’s room, after all.
‘Come on! Go next to me!’ Bob’s upside-down voice was squeaky.
Penelope bit her lip as she took off her shoes. So far, going with the flow had been a good idea – this afternoon, at least. She couldn’t ruin it now.
Although she hadn’t done a handstand in quite some time, Penelope found it quite easy. In fact, her arms felt very strong. Her hair almost touched the floor. Bob’s, on the other hand, remained exactly as it looked the right way up. Her face, though, was bright red as she turned it towards Penelope.
‘This is very relaxing, right?’ she said. ‘Sometimes I do this to get calm. Different thoughts come into my head upside-down. Like, right now, I’m realising that I’ve been talking too much and you know loads about me, but I hardly know anything about you. So …’
The ‘so’ was said with a little movement of her head to indicate that Penelope should talk now. Penelope’s blood seemed to tingle in her head.
‘Well, I have some techniques I use to calm down too,’ Penelope admitted. ‘Though they’re not handstands.’ She took her voice down a notch. Penelope had never actually shared her top-secret calming techniques with anyone, but now seemed quite a good time to do it.
‘I like to read or draw when I want to calm down,’ she said.
‘Cool,’ Bob said. ‘Both those things are totally calming. What else?’
Bob’s response made Penelope feel very pleased. She wanted to continue the conversation about calming techniques, but it seemed more important to explain something else first.
‘One thing I’d like you to know is that I never – well, hardly ever – blow up like I did at Dodgeball the other day. It was actually even a surprise to me. Normally I am quite good at being calm and sensible.’
Saying she was normally quite good at being sensible while she was upside down seemed a little bit strange.
It must have seemed funny to Bob, too, because she giggled.
‘Sometimes,’ Penelope tried again, ‘not very often, but just occasionally …’
Penelope sighed. It was a difficult thing to explain, and even if she did manage to explain it, what if Bob thought she was weird?
‘Is it like this?’ upside-down Bob asked. ‘You think you’re going to do one thing and you end up totally doing another? Sort of like you’ve got different people inside you?’
The feeling inside Penelope wasn’t just because blood was rushing to her head. Nodding when you’re upside down is quite hard to do, and Penelope’s hair actually swept the ground when she did it. But Penelope did it anyway. Several times.
Bob blew out a breath before she continued. ‘That sounded kooky,’ she giggled. ‘It’s probably not what you were trying to say. I’m not making any sense at all. You probably think I’m nuts.’
Penelope found that shaking her head upside down was a bit easier than nodding. At least this time, Bob seemed to notice what she was doing. Penelope could tell she was waiting for her to speak.
‘You’re absolutely not nuts, Bob,’ Penelope said. ‘Not to me, anyway. What you said makes perfect sense.’
‘Well, well, well,’ Bob’s dad said, standing in the doorway and looking around Bob’s bedroom. ‘You girls have done an amazing job in here.’
Penelope quickly got out of her handstand and stood up.
Bob stayed put.
‘I think banana smoothies are in order,’ Bob’s dad continued. ‘In fact, I’ve already made them. They’re in the kitchen.’
Now Bob was very quick to get out of her handstand.
‘Thanks, Dad!’ she said as she zoomed across the room.
As they crossed paths, Bob’s dad leaned down and kissed Bob on the top of the head.
Of course, Penelope’s dad kissed her hello and goodbye when she visited. Sometimes he even kissed her goodnight when she slept over. It seemed to Penelope, though
, that this kiss was for absolutely no reason. Bob and her dad didn’t even seem to notice it had happened. They acted as if those sorts of random kisses were totally normal.
Bob and her dad both walked out of the bedroom. But the tickly scratchy thing in Penelope’s heart made her freeze for a second.
Suddenly, Penelope imagined her own dad delivering a random kiss like that …
Bob peeked around the doorway. ‘Are you coming or what?’
The banana smoothie was so thick that the girls had to work hard to get it up the straws. Bob crossed her eyes as she sucked. She looked so funny that Penelope completely forgot about her dad and Sienna and random kisses. She giggled so much that her smoothie (which she’d managed to get three-quarters of the way up her straw) was slowly going backwards.
‘I give up!’ Bob said.
She took the straw out of her drink and went to get some spoons. Penelope followed. On the way back, she noticed a framed photo sitting on the bench.
‘Who’s that?’ Penelope asked, instantly thinking of Sienna again. Bob picked up the photo.
‘That’s my little cousin, Lincoln,’ she said, taking the photo back to the barstool with her. Both girls took a spoonful of smoothie (which Penelope now discovered was very delicious, even though it was more like food than a drink).
‘He’s very cute,’ Penelope said.
This was true. Lincoln, who looked to Penelope to be about three years old, had soft blond curls and big blue eyes. He looked like one of the cherubs Penelope had seen on countless cards and paintings.
‘He might look cute, but he’s a rat,’ Bob said.
Penelope could not help grinning. She probably shouldn’t encourage Bob to talk like that, but she could not stop smiling. As soon as Bob mentioned a rat, Penelope found herself mentally adding whiskers to the photo of Lincoln.
‘I’ll give you the perfect example,’ Bob continued. ‘My auntie put him on my lap. I didn’t mind that, even though he had a huge gob of snot hanging out of his nose. Then he started leaning right into my face. My auntie was going on about how cute it was that he wanted to kiss me, so I thought I’d just get it over and done with, snot and all. Then the little rat BIT me, fair on the nose!’ Bob pinched her nose to indicate where the little rat had bitten her.
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