Read Online 3: Chocolate Box Girls: Summer's Dream by Cathy Cassidy - Free Book Online

and Paddy. ‘Stop worrying! The girls and I will manage just fine, and Harry will run the workshop with military precision. All you two have to do is go off and enjoy yourselves!’
    ‘But three weeks …’ Mum sighs. ‘I don’t know. Anything could go wrong …’
    ‘Nothing will,’ I promise, but there’s a sad, empty ache in my chest that tells me things are going wrong right now. I want to hang on to Mum and hug her hard and beg her not to go, but I don’t, of course. That would be childish and selfish and cruel. Wouldn’t it?
    ‘Summer, I so wish I could be here for your audition,’ Mum is saying. ‘I know how much it means to you. I’ll be thinking of you, wishing you luck every inch of the way. I’ll text whenever I can, I promise.’
    ‘It’s OK.’ I drag up my best stage smile, think bright, happy thoughts. Let’s just say that if my dancing career falls through, I could have a great future in acting.
    Mum squeezes my hand and I have to turn away, tears prickling the back of my eyes without warning.
    Next morning, we are up at dawn to say goodbye. The suitcases have been packed into Paddy’s minivan and Mum is frantically looking around in case she’s forgotten anything. ‘You’ll walk Fred and feed the ducks, won’t you, Coco?’ she asks. ‘And make sure Humbug is shut safely in the stable every night?’
    ‘You can rely on me,’ Coco promises.
    ‘Call me if there are any problems,’ Mum says. ‘I’ll have my mobile switched on at all times, in case of emergencies …’
    ‘There won’t be any emergencies,’ Grandma Kate says firmly, but Mum doesn’t seem to be listening.
    ‘There’s lentil soup, home-made steak pie and sausage casserole in the freezer,’ she says. ‘Remember not to overstack the dishwasher. Keep an eye on The Chocolate Box website and log orders as they come in … bank the business payments at least once a week … water the veggie garden …’
    ‘Relax, Charlotte,’ Grandma Kate says gently. ‘Time to switch off, enjoy the honeymoon.’
    Mum hugs us all hard, and Paddy tousles our hair as if we are bouncy puppy dogs and not soon-to-be-abandoned children. They jump in the car and Paddy revs the engine while Mum leans out of the open window. ‘Do everything Grandma Kate tells you … and stick to the curfew, OK?’
    They drive away fast in a screech of gravel.
    ‘We’ll cope just fine,’ Grandma Kate says briskly, turning back towards the house. ‘Let’s hope they have the best honeymoon ever. Now … let’s get this show on the road! Who’d like some of my special French toast for breakfast?’
    ‘Me,’ Coco whoops.
    ‘Me too,’ Skye echoes, hooking an arm round Cherry’s shoulders. ‘Can we have that every morning? It’s my favourite! If you’ve never had my gran’s French toast, Cherry, you have not lived. It has cinnamon and butter and a drizzle of maple syrup … gorgeous.’
    ‘Cool,’ Cherry says.
    A few weeks ago I’d have thought it was cool too, but now I am just vaguely irritated that a high-calorie breakfast is meant to make me feel better about Mum going away. My stomach growls with hunger, but I am getting to like that empty feeling. It makes me feel light, clean, strong.
    The others troop back into the house. Honey yawns and says we must be crazy to even think about eating when it’s practically the middle of the night, and that she is going back to bed, possibly until lunchtime.
    I am left alone, standing on the empty driveway, staring into the distance long after the car has gone.

12
    I am in the studio at the dance school, running through my exercises and working on the set piece we have to perform for the audition. The clock on the wall says I have been practising for two hours, but I’m not happy yet with the way it’s going.
    I need it to be smooth, light, effortless, but today it’s not working. I feel dull, leaden, lost. I need the music to fill me up and take me away from this place, somewhere