Cookie (5 page)

‘I’m useless at this lark,’ she said cheerily. She glanced at Skye and Emily and Arabella. ‘Take no notice, they’re just being silly,’ she said.

‘Yeah,’ I said shakily.

‘You are coming to my birthday party, aren’t you, Beauty?’ she asked.

I nodded shyly.

‘Ooh! You haven’t
really
asked Ugly, have you?’ said Skye, putting her hands on her hips. ‘You are a total ninny, Rhona. We don’t want creepy old Ugly.’

‘Yes I do,’ said Rhona. She reached out and squeezed my hand. Her brown eyes looked into mine. Her cheeks were very pink, maybe from the dancing. ‘I’m so glad you’re coming, Beauty.’

She really sounded as if she meant it, as if she wanted us to be friends. Then the bell rang and Rhona pulled a face. ‘Oh, blow. Lesson time,’ she said.

I pulled a face and sighed too, though I was always relieved when the bell went. I
liked
lessons. Miss Woodhead was kind but very strict, so we weren’t allowed to mess about and chat in the classroom. We had to sit up straight at our desks and listen carefully and put our hands up if we wanted to say anything. I could cope with
lessons
easy-peasy. It was the playtimes that were the problem, before school and mid-morning break and the endless lunch hour.

We had to play outside unless it was pouring with rain, but we were allowed in if we needed to go to the toilet. The minute I’d finished lunch I rushed to the cloakrooms and locked myself in the end cubicle in the toilets. I’d tucked my copy of
A Little Princess
inside my school blazer. I sat peacefully for more than half an hour, at Miss Minchin’s Seminary with Sara. The eldest girl at the school, spiteful Lavinia, was
so
like Skye.

I wished I was more like Sara, who never seemed the slightest bit upset by Lavinia and all her catty remarks. Sara was loved by all the other girls, especially the little ones. They hung on her every word and called her a princess and begged her to tell them stories. I imagined myself sauntering next door, going into the Reception class, sitting on one of their squashy cushions and telling them one of
my
stories.

They’d think I’d gone mental. The little girls didn’t seem to like me any more than the big girls.

Sudden tears prickled in my eyes and splashed the insides of my glasses. I gave a monumental sniff and wiped my glasses on my blouse.

‘Don’t you
dare
cry,’ I told myself fiercely. ‘Stop
being
so stupidly sorry for yourself. Lots of people like you. Rhona likes you. She’s asked you to her birthday party. She wants to be friends.’

I felt a lot better – until I heard two girls from our class, Louise and Poppy come into the toilets. I knew it was them because they kept calling out their silly nicknames, Lulu and Poo-poo. I think I’d almost sooner be called Ugly than Poo-poo, but Poppy didn’t seem to mind at all. They kept up this long silly conversation, shouting to each other from their individual cubicles.

‘Hey, Lulu, what are you going to give Rhona for her birthday?’

‘I thought I’d maybe give her one of those special stuffed bears with a recording inside its tummy, Poo-poo. I could make it sing
Happy Birthday
.’

‘
Great
idea, Lulu. Maybe we could give her
two
bears? I could give her a boy and you could give her a girl?’

‘Yeah, OK, Poo-poo – thought it
was
my idea first. Don’t tell anyone else or Rhona will get
heaps
of birthday bears.’

‘How many of us are going, Lulu?’

‘She’s invited everyone, Poo-poo, the whole
class
.’

I tensed up like I had stomach-ache, bending forward so that
A Little Princess
dug into my chest uncomfortably. So Rhona hadn’t singled me
out
. She hadn’t invited me to her party because she particularly liked me. She’d invited
everyone
. Maybe she didn’t like me at all, but she was kind and didn’t want to invite every other girl in the class, leaving me out altogether.

I waited for Louise and Poppy to stop their silly twitterings in the toilets. When they went I let myself have a two-minute howl. I timed myself by my watch, clamping my hand over my mouth and pinching my nose to make myself stop. I mopped myself dry with toilet paper but it was the shiny scratchy sort and it made my eyes redder than ever.

‘Look at Ugly-Wugly! She’s been
crying
! Boohoo, boo-hoo, little baby,’ said Skye, as we went back into the classroom for afternoon school.

‘Are you OK, Beauty?’ said Rhona, looking concerned.

‘Yes, I’m fine, thank you,’ I said. I tried to say it in an airy confident way but my voice was still a bit wobbly and I gave a loud hiccup at the end of my sentence.

‘Oh dear, she’s got the burps now,’ said Skye, spluttering. ‘Someone thump Baby Ugly on the back, quick.’

‘Watch out or I’ll give
you
a thump,’ I said fiercely and I gave her a shove right in the chest.

It wasn’t a particularly hard shove but she
wasn
’t expecting it. She staggered, arms flailing, shrieking like a siren.

‘For goodness’ sake, Skye, stop making that dreadful noise!’ said Miss Woodhead.

‘I’m in
pain
, Miss Woodhead. Beauty Cookson punched me here and it
hurts
,’ said Skye, hands clutching her front dramatically.

‘
Beauty
punched you?’ said Miss Woodhead, raising her eyebrows.

‘Yes, she did, Miss Woodhead. I was watching,’ said Arabella.

‘I saw her too. Beauty just
attacked
poor Skye for no reason at all,’ said Emily.

‘I expect she had reason enough, but that’s still no excuse for fighting, Beauty! I’m not having my girls brawling like guttersnipes. I don’t particularly care for tell-tales either. Now sit down and settle down, all of you, before I get really cross. I
was
thinking of having a special story-time this afternoon but I’m not sure you’re in the right mood. I think we’d better have a spelling test instead.’

Everyone groaned and glared at me, as if it was all my fault. They groaned even louder when we marked our spellings at the end of the lesson and I got twenty out of twenty.

I hurtled out of school when the bell went. Mum was waiting for me. She was wearing jeans and a pink T-shirt with a fairy on it. She’d tied her hair
into
two cute plaits secured with pink bobbles. She looked about fourteen, so much younger and prettier than any of the other mums.

‘Hi, Mum,’ I said happily, linking arms with her.

Way back in the playground I heard Skye and Arabella and Emily calling after me. I didn’t look round. Mum did though.

‘Is that you they’re calling?’ she asked.

I shrugged.

‘What is it they’re saying?’

‘Just something stupid.
They’re
stupid. Come on, Mum, let’s get home quick. I don’t want to miss my programme.’

‘OK, OK. Sam is calling to you, is he?’

‘You bet he is.’

We made it home in heaps of time. Mum gave me a glass of milk and a banana sandwich. I was starving as I’d had very little breakfast and I’d bolted my lunch. I sipped and munched as Sam waved at me and Lily nibbled her carrot.

‘
Who do we want to see?
’ sang the children.

‘
Sam and Lily in the Rabbit Hutch
,’ I sang, through a mouthful of milky banana.

‘Hello there,’ said Sam, smiling straight at me. ‘How are you doing?’

‘So so, Sam,’ I said.

He gave me an understanding nod.

‘Lily here is getting very excited,’ he said, cuddling her.

Lily lolled sleepily against Sam’s chest, her blue eyes dreamy.

‘She doesn’t
look
very excited, Sam,’ I said.

Sam gave me a little wink. We had to keep up the pretence for all the little kids watching the programme.

‘Guess how old Lily is,’ said Sam. ‘Go on, have a little think. How old are
you
?’

‘I’m a bit embarrassed to tell you, Sam. I think I’m heaps older than most of your viewers,’ I said.

‘Well, Lily’s a bit younger than you,’ said Sam. ‘She’s very nearly one year old. She’s very mature for a nearly one-year-old, isn’t she?’ He tickled her gently under her chin. ‘You can toddle out into the garden and fix yourself a lovely veggie tea and you can tuck yourself up in bed and get yourself up in the morning and give yourself a good wash. Could
you
do that when you were nearly one?’

‘Maybe I had a stab at it,’ I said, giggling.

‘I thought I’d throw a little birthday party for our Lily. Do you think she’d like that?’

‘I think she might like a party,’ I said. ‘But not with heaps and heaps of people.’

Sam nodded. ‘I don’t think Lily wants a
big
party with lots and lots of friends. She’s a bit shy sometimes. I think we’ll give her a
little
party. Just
Lily
and me – and you too, of course. You can come, can’t you?’

‘Of course I can come! Oh, Sam, I wish
you
could come to my birthday party. Just you and me and Lily. And Mum. And
maybe
Rhona. She’s asked me to
her
birthday party but I’m not sure I want to go. Skye will be there. She’s Rhona’s best friend and my worst-ever enemy. She’s so horrible. I don’t know why Rhona wants to be her friend.’

‘Maybe Rhona will get fed up with Skye and make friends with you?’ said Sam.

‘Oh, I wish! But it’s never going to happen,’ I said, sighing.

‘You never know,’ said Sam. ‘But remember, Lily and I are still your best friends.’

‘I’ll always remember that,’ I said.

Sam gave me a special secret smile, and then he raised his voice, talking to everyone else.

‘What do you think I should get Lily for a birthday present? Have you got any good ideas? How about painting me a picture of an ideal present for our birthday bunny? Send it to Sam at the Rabbit Hutch, OK? Bye then.’

I waved goodbye and then I went upstairs and drew a very special picture of Lily with a little paper crown perched on her head and a
I AM ONE TODAY
badge tied round one floppy ear. I drew her a birthday carrot cake with real baby carrots decorating
the
icing on top. I drew one big candle in the middle.

Then I got a new piece of paper and drew my own birthday cake. I’d seen exactly the one I wanted, with white icing and pink rosebuds. I
loved
proper birthday cake. I loved the soft sponge and the jam and the buttercream and I especially loved the sweet icing.

I looked at my paper birthday cake and then pretended to blow out my candles and make a wish.

‘Silly old Lily,’ Sam said fondly. ‘Out you come, sweetie. It’s not bedtime yet. It’s time for all your party games. We’re going to play Blind Bunny Buff and Pass the Parsnip and Hunt the Carrot.’

Lily took no notice.

‘Do you know something? I think she’s really gone to sleep!’ Sam said. ‘Oh well! Maybe you’d like to invent a special party game for Lily? Would you like to paint it for me? Send your paintings to me at the Rabbit Hutch. I’m looking forward to seeing them. Bye for now – oh, just a minute!’ he said, as the music started up to show it was the end of the programme. ‘Beauty? I do hope you enjoy Rhona’s party!’

‘Thank you, Sam,’ I said.

I went upstairs and drew a picture of me with Lily on my lap. I’m quite small and Lily’s very big so it looked as if I was giving a polar bear a cuddle. I had my arms outstretched to cope with Lily’s breadth, one hand clamped round her haunch to
keep
her safely wedged on my lap, the other hand stroking her head.