My Brilliant Life and Other Disasters

by Catherine Wilkins

  I spend so much time with Nat over the next week, doing our wildlife work, that I don’t really have time to think much about the comic. The sting of Scarlett making the front cover has faded, and now I feel faintly ridiculous I could have cared so much about it. Maybe it’s been good for me to have a break from it, and become less egotistical.

  Nat and I have agreed to keep our trip to the bird sanctuary a secret so that we have an exciting ace up our sleeves in the presentation. The presentations are coming up really soon now; it’s getting a bit scary.

  My usual tactic when something scary is looming is to ignore it. But that gets difficult if you live next door to the VanDerks, and the thing you are avoiding is vaguely academic.

  “Ah, here’s young Jessica!” calls Mr VanDerk the following Monday as I walk up my garden path after school and see him chatting to my mum over the hedge. “How’s it going with the presentation preparation? Are you nervous?”

  “She’s been working very hard,” my mum answers for me as I draw level with them.

  “Harriet’s not nervous at all,” says Mr VanDerk. “But then she’s used to public speaking, of course. She’s form captain and part of an outside-school debating society.”

  “Well, Jessica’s got … good instincts,” says my mum, as always trying to compete in this unwinnable competition. “Don’t you, Jess?”

  “Oh yes,” I agree. And right now my instinct is to get inside the house, away from this nonsense.

  Just then the sound of an engine revving and a thumping car stereo attracts our attention. We look over as Auntie Joan pulls up in my mum’s car and rolls down the window.

  “Coo-eee!” she yells, then switches the engine off and gets out.

  “What have you done to my car?” cries my mum, running down the path. I follow, as does Mr VanDerk.

  “Well, I went to get the wing mirror fixed, to say thanks for cooking me all these meals and everything,” explains Joan, “and while I was there I thought I’d get some other changes made as well.”

  “You don’t say?” My mum gapes open-mouthed at her car.

  “So now it’s also got a brand-new stereo with a digital radio, loads of speakers, UV lights, built-in satnav, and cup holders. Oh, and new tyres. These ones can go off-road if you need them to. Pretty groovy, hey?”

  “And what’s with the flames down the sides?” I ask.

  “Oh, them? The guy just threw them in for free,” says my aunt. “I think he wants to be a graphic designer really.”

  “Where on earth did you—” My mum can’t even finish her sentence, she’s too gobsmacked.

  “This car looks like it’s owned by a boy racer,” remarks Mr VanDerk stiffly.

  “It looks like Greased Lightning,” I comment.

  And then, just when I think my mum’s head is going to explode, she bursts out laughing. She laughs and laughs. She doubles over and has to wipe tears from her eyes before she is able to stop. Then she hugs Joan.

  “You’re a complete nutcase,” she tells her sister. “What would I do without you?”

  “Drive inconspicuously?” I offer. But this just makes them laugh more.

  “Harriet VanDerk and Amy White,” calls out Miss Price. They are the first ones up. All of Year Six are sitting here in the hall, feeling pretty nervous. It’s presentation day, it’s presentation day.

  Some people from the Wildlife Association Council have joined our teachers as judges and to give out any prizes and stuff. It makes the event feel kind of official and sombre.

  When Harriet and Amy finish, we all applaud politely and Mrs Cole says Harriet has “set the bar high”. Then she gets the next team up.

  The next few presentations aren’t quite as thorough as the first. Megan and Emily didn’t have half those facts, and for some reason they talked loads about going on a bike ride and really enjoying the scenery. They say we should protect the environment so other people can go on bike rides, which I agree with, but it just sounds less official somehow.

  Cherry and Shantair, my chess club friends, have loads of really great information, but Cherry kind of mumbles and looks down when she speaks and so it’s hard to catch everything she says. Shantair is really shy too, even though she does drama. She did once tell me that she hates talking in front of people and that part of the reason she does drama is to try to overcome her fear.

  Joshua and Lewis somehow manage to link their project to Dracula (don’t ask) and various comic book characters. They mention the Black Mercy flower putting Superman to sleep and Captain Carrot, an ordinary rabbit, eating carrots that were struck by lightning and then becoming a superhero.

  They ponder if garlic could really repel a vampire, but then cleverly link it to real life, when they say that destroying the rainforest means we are destroying loads of potential future medicines in the undiscovered plants. It isn’t exactly in the remit of what we were completely supposed to do, as it’s not really local wildlife, but it is definitely the most interesting presentation, and my favourite so far.

  Cassy and Amelia have lots of thorough and impressive information, but the Cool For Cats team never wrote back (probably because they never got a letter in the first place) so I think they might get marked down for not doing everything that was asked. I still feel a bit sorry for Amelia. A bit.

  Tanya Harris and her partner, Alex Slater (one of the naughty boys I used to be scared of), do a brilliant presentation about how important bees are. And how they hope breeding programmes to save them will be as successful as the otter breeding programme has been. Tanya makes a few jokes about buzzing off, but overall she’s actually a brilliant public speaker. I don’t know why she was so against it at our comic launch all that time ago.

  I know I’m probably biased but I think the ACE half of GUF do much better presentations than the CAC half of GUF.

  Finally it is time for Nat and me to do our presentation. As we go up there and stand in front of our whole year, I feel like my knees are shaking, but when I look down at them they aren’t moving at all. Weird. And I have butterflies in my stomach as Natalie begins.

  “We were particularly interested in birds and conservation, and that’s why we wrote to Horace King,” she says. (I think I see Amelia shake her head, laughing with Cassy in the crowd.) “And so of course we were particularly excited when he wrote back…” continues Natalie.

  There is an audible gasp in the crowd at this. People are looking around at each other and then back at us, as if not quite sure if this is true. Amelia’s mouth drops open.

  Natalie continues her speech about how we met Poppy the famous owl. I hold up a big photograph of us with Horace and Poppy that my dad helped us blow up so people would be able to see it.

  Then I take over the speaking and talk about how Horace told us all about conservation methods as he showed us round his sanctuary. I mention how it’s important to protect creatures’ natural habitats, like badgers’. (Natalie holds up my giant picture of a badger at this point.)

  As I talk I grow in confidence, and though it’s still nerve-racking, I start to feel more normal and I get more comfortable in front of everyone. I feel pleased when we are finished.

  Once everyone’s been up, the judges have to go off and decide what they thought of the presentations and when they come back in, Mrs Unwin, the head of conservation planning, gives a quick speech about how impressed she is and how hard it was to judge because we’ve all done so well. Then they give out the prizes. Everyone gets a prize for something, but only some people get a Special Mention.

  Joshua and Lewis win a prize for being the most inventive with the task. Megan and Emily win a prize for thinking about the practical application and benefits for everyone. Harriet wins a prize and a Special Mention for being so resourceful and informative. Amelia and Cassy win a prize for having such a beautifully put-together package, but they don’t get a Special Mention.

  Finally it is announced that there is only one more Special Mention left to give. Cassy and Amelia nudg
e each other, looking relieved.

  “Right then,” says Mrs Unwin. “The last and final Special Mention is awarded to Jessica and Natalie for artwork.”

  I don’t believe it! Natalie nudges me and grins. We have to go up and receive our plastic medals while everyone claps. Well, nearly everyone. Amelia and Cassy aren’t actually clapping. Joshua tries to do that whistle thing with his fingers and only partly succeeds.

  Mrs Unwin puts the medals round our necks and shakes our hands. Then she addresses everyone and says, “This prize is because it is all very well talking about the environment and writing about the environment. But it is just as important to show what is great about the environment. In the future we will need a new generation of artists who will help keep the instinctive connection we feel with our wildlife alive. Pictures can conjure all kinds of feelings. Like the ones we judges all felt on seeing this beautiful badger.”

  I think I love the medal lady. She gets art! She likes pictures! She seems to know exactly what I was feeling when I drew the picture. I conveyed something in art! This is amazing!

  Everyone is in high spirits afterwards as we are finally allowed to talk and start mixing and congratulating each other on our various successes. We get to have refreshments now – squash and biscuits for all our hard work. Today is a good day.

  Joshua comes up to me. “Congrats on your picture,” he says.

  “Congrats on your presentation,” I reply. “That was brilliant.”

  “Likewise your picture.”

  I see Amelia and Cassy across the room, talking crossly to each other. I can’t believe they didn’t clap when we won stuff. We clapped for them. It’s like they want to be the only people that can be good at something. Is that what I was like with Scarlett and the cartoons? I wonder. I hope not.

  I definitely need to stop worrying about the petty things, and live and let live. Actually, that gives me an idea for a cartoon…

  I suddenly realise that Joshua is staring at me. “What?” I ask him.

  “Nothing,” he says. “I’m just glad we’re friends again. I like it better when you’re not storming out of things.”

  “Well, you’re only human,” I joke, although if you think that’s storming out, you haven’t seen anything until you’ve met my Auntie Joan, I think to myself. “Of course we’re friends,” I add.

  “Good,” he says. “Because I like you.”

  I laugh. He doesn’t flinch, he just looks at me evenly. “Oh, right. You’re serious,” I say. “OK. Well, I like you too.”

  “Yeah! Group hug!” shouts Tanya Harris, grabbing both of us and shoving us together. “The old gang’s back together!” She releases us. “I knew you’d change your mind, Toons.”

  “Will you rejoin the comic?” asks Joshua.

  Hmmm. Well, I did say I wasn’t going to be such an egotistical person and would get the other areas of my life in balance and everything. But I have kind of, pretty much done that now. And I have also just had an idea about a new cartoon…

  “OK,” I smile.

  “Yeah!” Tanya pummels us into another hug.

  “Woot woot,” says Joshua, faintly sarcastically.

  “I’ve been thinking,” says Tanya, releasing us again. “I think we need a website…”

  And before I know it I am listening to Tanya’s latest business plan. Maybe it will be fun. And anyway, I’m an artist now.

  As I arrive home, for once I don’t mind that the VanDerks are lurking by the hedge, waiting to pounce on my mum. But not because I can join in with the winning prizes contest, but because I feel like I have a future, and I don’t care about them annoying me.

  Everything is going to be brilliant. There’s a lady with a proper job (who came to our school) who believes that art is important and that it speaks to people in indefinable and important ways.

  But not only that, she believes in my art. My badger spoke to her. I might actually be good at something that people need in the real world. Not just cartoons (which they do need and are important, whatever anyone says) but drawing more serious stuff. I could try to draw more serious stuff. I will. Maybe I’ll ask for some new pencils for my birthday.

  “How did Jessica do today?” asks Mrs VanDerk. “Our Harriet got a Special Mention.”

  “Oh well, that’s lovely,” says my mum in her fake happy voice. “My little Jess got one too.” She puts her arm around me. “I guess we’re all in the prize gang together.” She looks at them pointedly.

  The VanDerks’ smiles go tight and falter. I know they hate the idea of being in the same gang as my parents. But I still honestly think my mum is lowering herself to the VanDerksʼ level at the moment.

  “Mum! Mum!” comes a shout from the street. We turn to see Auntie Joan and Tammy start down the garden path towards us with an excited cross-collie dog pulling hard on a leash.

  “What the––” begins my mum.

  “Hey, sweetie!” says Auntie Joan as the dog pulls at the lead and tries to bound towards my mum. “I got you this dog,” she explains.

  “She’s rescued,” says Tammy happily. There is a stony silence as my mum just stares at them in disbelief, and the dog nearly chokes itself trying to get free, and starts coughing.

  “You’re welcome,” says my aunt cheerfully.

  The VanDerks aren’t even trying to hide their smirking at this point.

  My Auntie Joan elaborates. “I said to Tammy, I said, ‘If you want anything done, you’ve got to go out and make it happen. Wishing won’t make it so.’ So I said to her, ‘You want to rescue that dog? You just rescue that dog.’ I get things done. ‘Just do it.’ That’s what I say.”

  So this is what happens if people actually live their lives by the Nike advertising slogan, I think. They get Kit Kats and dogs.

  My mum finally finds her voice. “Oh God, get in the house,” she hisses, glancing at the VanDerks.

  “Cheerio!” wave the VanDerks gleefully.

  “Can we keep him?” I blurt out, following them into the front door.

  “Inside,” hisses my mum. “Cheery bye!” she simpers to the VanDerks.

  The door slams. There is quite a row.

  But I don’t care, because I am an artist as well as a cartoonist; Natalie is my best friend forever; I am a sane member of an ace comic; and now we even have a dog.

  Copyright

  MY BRILLIANT LIFE AND OTHER DISASTERS

  First published in the UK in 2013 by Nosy Crow Ltd

  The Crow’s Nest, 10a Lant Street

  London, SE1 1QR, UK

  This ebook edition first published 2013

  Nosy Crow and associated logos are trademarks and / or registered trademarks of Nosy Crow Ltd

  Text © Catherine Wilkins, 2013

  Cover illustrations © Sarah Horne, 2013

  Interior illustrations © Sarah Horne, 2013

  The right of Catherine Wilkins to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  All rights reserved

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author's imagination or are used fictiously. Any resemblence to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978 0 85763 160 2

  www.nosycrow.com