by Mandy Martin
orangutans.”
Esme’s face burned as she finally twigged who Great Aunt Maud was talking about. She had no idea Maud felt that way.
“And so,” Maud continued, “I have raised the money to take my great niece to Borneo in the school holidays, so she can learn more about realising her ambition.”
Esme gasped and the blood drained from her face. She wondered if she might faint. Go to Borneo? With Great Aunt Maud? Her body felt like it was being turned inside out. With a sob she threw herself into Maud’s arms and said, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” until she ran out of breath.
It was only after all the excitement of the auction was over that Esme realised that the pepper pot hadn’t been in any of the lots at the sale. So where was it now?
Brilliant Borneo
“Have you packed your raincoat?” Mum asked for the fifteenth time. “And a hat. Sun cream? Insect repellent.” Esme nodded. “Your malaria tablets? You haven’t got them!”
Esme had found it agonising getting through the last weeks of term, counting down the days to her trip to Borneo. But now the day was finally here. Great Aunt Maud would be arriving in a taxi in an hour, to take the two of them to the airport.
“Yes I have, Mum.” Esme pulled out the pack of tiny pills she had to take every day. “Don’t worry. Great Aunt Maud will look after me.” Suddenly Esme blinked as tears filled her eyes. “I wish you were coming too.” She rushed over and buried herself in Mum’s arms. “Why did you say no? It would be, oh, so much more fun with you there.”
Mum shook her head. “I have to work, darling. I can’t take four weeks off; we wouldn’t have a home to come back to.”
Esme guessed that wasn’t the real reason, but she hated it when Mum cried, and tears were definitely a possibility.
“Aunt Maud will be here soon,” Mum said with forced cheerfulness. “Let’s repack your case one more time, just to make sure.”
Esme rolled her eyes, but allowed Mum to pull her rucksack into the lounge and tip out the contents. As Mum carefully rolled and folded hiking trousers, t-shirts, underwear, with not a pink frock in sight, she frowned.
“I can’t take pink dresses to Borneo,” Esme said, guessing that was why Mum looked cross.
“Of course you can’t, Elderflower. I don’t mind if you never wear pink again. You’ve shown me how amazing you are just being you, instead of being a version of me I wish I’d been when I was your age. It makes me very proud.”
Esme replayed the words in her head, trying to understand the jumbled sentence. She grasped the gist and said, “Thanks, Mum.” Mum continued to wrinkle her forehead. “What is it then?” Esme asked. “What did I forget?”
“Hmmm? What? Oh, nothing.”
Esme wasn’t convinced. “Come on, spill the beans! Are you worried I’ve packed all my cuddly toys, or borrowed your MP3 player?”
“If you must know, I wondered if you’d hidden that blasted pepper pot in your bag. I know that’s how you convinced Aunt Maud to take you to Borneo.”
It was like Mum had chucked icy water over her head. “I did not!” Esme shouted, sitting back on her heels and glaring at Mum. “How could you say that? We agreed I wouldn’t do any more wishes, after we went to see…” she couldn’t quite say Dad. “In fact, you were the one who last told me to use it, when I was dangling out that of tree. But I didn’t. I got down on my own.”
Tears flowed fast now. After saying how proud she was, Mum had taken it all away by thinking Esme was still making wishes.
“I’m sorry,” Mum said, rubbing at her face wearily. “I didn’t want to think it. But why else is Aunt Maud taking you to Borneo? I thought she was going to use the money for a coach trip to London or maybe a new telly.”
“Perhaps she wanted to give me a treat, like she said,” Esme cried. “Isn’t that reason enough?” All her happiness drained away and she jumped up. “You’re jealous, that’s all. Because she’s spending the money on me, not you!” Esme knew she wasn’t being fair, but the words poured out anyway. “I’m glad I’m going away!” She turned and ran from the room.
“Esmerelda!” Mum called.
Esme didn’t stop, even when she heard Mum start crying. Stupid Mum, spoiling everything. But as she climbed the stairs, Esme had to admit she had no idea why Great Aunt Maud was paying for the trip. They were only distantly related, even if Esme had been born in the school house. It didn’t make sense.
Her room felt empty, as if she’d already left. The bed was made and all her clothes and books had been tidied away. Esme sat in the middle of the bare floor and hugged her knees.
In the distance she heard a car horn blaring. Then the front door swished open and slammed shut. After another few moments, footsteps echoed up the stairs.
Esme tensed her shoulders and kept her back to the door. She knew Mum had come to tell her the taxi was here. But it was all broken. She didn’t want to go on the trip and she didn’t want to talk to Mum
“Esmerelda, poppet?”
It wasn’t Mum, it was Great Aunt Maud. Esme stayed still, unsure how to react.
“Alice says you two had a fight?” Maud crossed the room and perched on the bed. “Come and sit by me, child.” She patted the duvet. It was covered in pandas and tigers. Esme shook her head, her pigtails swinging wildly. “All right then, love, have it your way,” Maud said kindly.
They sat in silence for a while. Eventually the quiet seemed to suck words out of Esme. “Mum thinks I … made you take me to Borneo. She doesn’t see why you’d go otherwise.”
“Ah.” Maud took a deep breath. “There’s lots your mum doesn’t understand. She doesn’t understand that I had to raise her as a boy, to help her survive. The world is a harsh place, sometimes, and you can’t be too fragile. It’s all very well for princesses to prance around in frilly dresses, but for the rest of us, well, we have to roll up our sleeves and get on with it.”
Esme looked up at Aunt Maud, but her eyes were distant, as if watching a movie from long ago.
“Anyway,” Maud continued. “Your mum held her own with my boys. I was right proud of her for that. She had a tough start in life. Then she met that Nicolai boy and ran away to Russia.” Maud laughed. “I can’t regret her that, because it gave us you.” She smiled at Esme, and it was as warm as chocolate.
“You, little thing, are amazing. Brought up with no dad, not much money, and a grumpy old great aunt for family. Yet you care so much about the world. You want to make it better, make a difference. Oh I admit, I wanted to be on the television for the fun of it, and maybe buy myself a few trinkets. But when that man,” she wouldn’t call him Brad James, after he’d tried to open the chests with a crowbar, “told me how much the antiques were worth, this idea popped into my head. After all, you found them.”
Esme thought her heart might split open from all the love and joy it was trying to hold. “I …” She stopped. Thank you didn’t seem enough. “What about Mum? I didn’t mean to be horrid. I’m going to miss her so much,” Esme wailed, throwing herself onto the bed.
“There, there, poppet, she’ll be okay. She doesn’t travel now, after Russia. Says it’s safer at home. It was hard for her, choosing between him and you.”
“Not really,” Mum said suddenly, walking into the room. “And if I had to make the choice again, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second.” She sat next to Esme and stroked her hair. “I’m sorry I doubted you, Elderflower. You go and save those orangutans, and take some pictures for me.”
Russia Calling
A horn sounded again from beneath the window. “That’s the taxi,” Mum said, wiping away her runny mascara. “You’d better go.”
“No!” Esme said, hugging Mum tight.
The phone trilled down stairs. “I have to get that,” Mum murmured, pulling Esme’s arms gently away from her neck. “It might be important.” She hurried downstairs, while Maud got Esme a tissue.
“Come along now,” Maud said, helping Esme up. “Adventure awaits! In fact, I think it’
s been waiting for me all my life.” She gave a wicked grin. “They say sixty is the new thirty!”
As they made their way to the sitting room to collect Esme’s bag, their heard Mum cry out. Esme dropped Maud’s hand and ran for the kitchen, terrified what she might find. Mum clutched the phone to her ear as if it were a lifeline on a sinking ship. Emotion ran across her face and the runny mascara tears were racing each other to her chin.
Esme turned to leave, but Mum beckoned her in. “Someone wishes to speak to you,” she said in a funny voice.
Esme’s heart began to beat a little faster. She had no idea who was on the phone. Was it Brad James, wanting to return the pepper pot after some tricky wish. Maybe school were calling to say she’d failed and would have to go to summer classes instead of her dream trip.
She accepted the phone with trembling hands. Holding the black plastic handset to her ear, Esme croaked, “yes?”
“Esmerelda Smudge?” a voice asked in a thick accent that was almost impossible to decipher.
“Yes,” Esme said again over the thrumming in her ears.
“It is I, Nicholai. Your papa?”
Esme slid down the fridge and onto the chilly tiles. “Dad?” The man she’d seen on stage in Russia? Why was he calling now?
“I am. I am being sorry for not knowing you. When Alice left, she took my heart.” Esme stifled a giggle at the soppy words. “I cared not for anything but dancing. Then I saw you, or dreamed I did, at the