Read Online 3: Chocolate Box Girls: Summer's Dream by Cathy Cassidy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cathy Cassidy
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Aga writing haiku poetry and even Honey is sitting at the kitchen table making quick ink sketches of everyone.
I’ve just unplugged my iPod after running through my ballet exercises one last time, a baggy T-shirt over my leotard and leg warmers. I didn’t dance well today in class, and I am determined to smooth out the glitches if it kills me. I am not leaving the audition to fate, no matter what Jodie says.
Fred the dog and Humbug the lamb watch it all, curled up together on Fred’s cushion in the corner. We don’t always cram into the kitchen together like this, but today is different. We need to be together because Mum and Paddy are gone and everything feels slightly out of balance.
Jamie Finch laughs, taking the chaos in his stride. ‘Thank you for having me,’ he says politely. ‘I’m so excited to be out of London for a while – Mum’s never let me help out on a shoot before. It’s going to be cool! By the way, just call me Finch … everyone else does.’
‘Finch then,’ Grandma Kate amends.
Coco puts down her violin, blinking, and Honey raises one perfect eyebrow at the idea of a boy who thinks that Kitnor might be cooler than London. I glance across at Skye. She has been counting off the days until Finch’s arrival, yet now looks totally amazed to find him standing in the middle of our kitchen.
‘Hey,’ he says when he catches sight of her. ‘Skye … how’s it going?’
My twin blushes a dark shade of pink and seems to have lost the power of speech. She may not actually have heard his words, what with the pink fluffy earmuffs, but she takes them off carefully now and drops them carelessly into the fruit bowl where they nestle alongside a nectarine and three green apples. She grins and Finch grins back, and when the rest of us notice a faint smell of burning, it’s hard to tell for sure whether it comes from their sizzling gaze or from the iron Skye has abandoned face down on one of her best vintage petticoats.
‘Skye, be careful!’ Grandma Kate says, unplugging the iron and holding up the ruined petticoat, which now has an iron-shaped scorch mark right in the middle.
But Skye can’t take her eyes off Finch, not even to survey the frazzled slip. He is just as smitten. It’s like watching one of those cheesy movies where everything goes slo-mo and soft focus and your toes begin to curl with embarrassment. I have always thought those scenes were exaggerated because it’s seriously not that way at all when I am with Aaron.
‘Hello?’ Grandma Kate says, bemused. ‘Skye? Better leave that ironing now, pet. Finch, why don’t you go and find your mum and tell her there’s a nice pot of tea here for her. Then I’ll show you to your room, and I’m sure the girls will help you to settle in, make you feel welcome …’
‘Ah … OK.’
Finch finally drags his eyes away from my twin sister, grins sheepishly and lopes off to find Nikki, and Skye snaps out of her trance and looks down at the ruined petticoat, frowning slightly as if she can’t quite work out what just happened. I am not sure I know either, even with my trusty twin-telepathy on full alert, but I know that it is major, a life-changing event, a catastrophe even, like an earthquake or a tidal wave.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. My twin sister is nuts about Jamie Finch, and he seems to feel the same wayabout her. I’m pleased for her, truly I am, but I cannot shake the feeling that life as we know it will never be the same again.
I bite my lip so hard I taste blood.
13
Tia and Millie burst into our kitchen on Monday morning brandishing a flyer that invites interested locals to earn £50 by appearing as extras in a couple of crowd scenes in the film.
‘We could be famous!’ Millie declares, eyes wide. ‘We could shoot to stardom and end up winning Oscars and strutting down the red carpet with Robert Pattinson!’
‘Get a grip,’ I say. ‘Robert Pattinson isn’t even in this film!’
‘No,
I’ve just unplugged my iPod after running through my ballet exercises one last time, a baggy T-shirt over my leotard and leg warmers. I didn’t dance well today in class, and I am determined to smooth out the glitches if it kills me. I am not leaving the audition to fate, no matter what Jodie says.
Fred the dog and Humbug the lamb watch it all, curled up together on Fred’s cushion in the corner. We don’t always cram into the kitchen together like this, but today is different. We need to be together because Mum and Paddy are gone and everything feels slightly out of balance.
Jamie Finch laughs, taking the chaos in his stride. ‘Thank you for having me,’ he says politely. ‘I’m so excited to be out of London for a while – Mum’s never let me help out on a shoot before. It’s going to be cool! By the way, just call me Finch … everyone else does.’
‘Finch then,’ Grandma Kate amends.
Coco puts down her violin, blinking, and Honey raises one perfect eyebrow at the idea of a boy who thinks that Kitnor might be cooler than London. I glance across at Skye. She has been counting off the days until Finch’s arrival, yet now looks totally amazed to find him standing in the middle of our kitchen.
‘Hey,’ he says when he catches sight of her. ‘Skye … how’s it going?’
My twin blushes a dark shade of pink and seems to have lost the power of speech. She may not actually have heard his words, what with the pink fluffy earmuffs, but she takes them off carefully now and drops them carelessly into the fruit bowl where they nestle alongside a nectarine and three green apples. She grins and Finch grins back, and when the rest of us notice a faint smell of burning, it’s hard to tell for sure whether it comes from their sizzling gaze or from the iron Skye has abandoned face down on one of her best vintage petticoats.
‘Skye, be careful!’ Grandma Kate says, unplugging the iron and holding up the ruined petticoat, which now has an iron-shaped scorch mark right in the middle.
But Skye can’t take her eyes off Finch, not even to survey the frazzled slip. He is just as smitten. It’s like watching one of those cheesy movies where everything goes slo-mo and soft focus and your toes begin to curl with embarrassment. I have always thought those scenes were exaggerated because it’s seriously not that way at all when I am with Aaron.
‘Hello?’ Grandma Kate says, bemused. ‘Skye? Better leave that ironing now, pet. Finch, why don’t you go and find your mum and tell her there’s a nice pot of tea here for her. Then I’ll show you to your room, and I’m sure the girls will help you to settle in, make you feel welcome …’
‘Ah … OK.’
Finch finally drags his eyes away from my twin sister, grins sheepishly and lopes off to find Nikki, and Skye snaps out of her trance and looks down at the ruined petticoat, frowning slightly as if she can’t quite work out what just happened. I am not sure I know either, even with my trusty twin-telepathy on full alert, but I know that it is major, a life-changing event, a catastrophe even, like an earthquake or a tidal wave.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. My twin sister is nuts about Jamie Finch, and he seems to feel the same wayabout her. I’m pleased for her, truly I am, but I cannot shake the feeling that life as we know it will never be the same again.
I bite my lip so hard I taste blood.
13
Tia and Millie burst into our kitchen on Monday morning brandishing a flyer that invites interested locals to earn £50 by appearing as extras in a couple of crowd scenes in the film.
‘We could be famous!’ Millie declares, eyes wide. ‘We could shoot to stardom and end up winning Oscars and strutting down the red carpet with Robert Pattinson!’
‘Get a grip,’ I say. ‘Robert Pattinson isn’t even in this film!’
‘No,
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