Dundrum yesterday.”
“It’s OK. I understand,” I say, feeling even worse about my diary rant. “Dundrum wasn’t so bad in the end. Dad got me a top at Harvey Nicks. Sonia Rykiel, no less.”
Mills looks at me blankly.
“She’s a French designer. It’s the most expensive thing I’ve ever owned.”
“Cool! Can I see it?”
“Sure, come on up. Alex is in the bath, and I’m supposed to be supervising him. Why don’t you wait in my room while I pull him out? It won’t take long. The top is hanging on the back of my door if you want to have a look.”
Mills goes to my bedroom while I deal with Alex. I walk back into the bathroom and gasp. “
Pógarooney,
goblin boy, what have you done?”
He’s lying tummy down on the floor tiles, completely naked, one hand on the back of his head.
“I shark,” he says. “I eat you.” He grabs my leg and chomps it with his surprisingly sharp baby teeth. Luckily, I’m wearing jeans or he might have broken the skin.
“Ow! Alex, stop that. And stand up. There’s water all over the floor.”
“Sea,” he explains. “Shark like sea.”
“What’s wrong with being a shark in the bath?” I ask him, losing patience.
“Too small,” he says. “I big shark.”
“Right, Mr. Shark,” I say, holding his arm firmly. “You’re in for it. Mum!”
I wrap a large towel around Alex, sling him over my shoulder in a quasi-fireman’s lift while he squeals with delight, and walk into the hall. I bump straight into Mills, who is running out of my room. There’s a funny look on her face. Her lips are pressed together and her cheeks are bright pink.
“What’s up, Mills?” I ask her.
Saying nothing, she just pushes past me and runs down the stairs.
“Mills, where are you going?” I call after her.
She swings around at the bottom of the stairs and clutches the banister. “Home!” Her eyes are welling up.
“Why? You’ve only just gotten here. What’s wrong?”
“You hate me. You think I’m annoying and stupid.” Her face crumples and tears start spilling down her cheeks. “
And
you were mean about my sister. I thought we were best friends. What kind of person are you, Amy Green?”
The whole world stops. The only thing I can hear is my own heart thumping wildly in my chest. Then I realize what Mills is talking about. I left my diary open on my desk, which means . . .
“Mills, don’t go,” I say frantically. “I can explain. I was in a bad mood. I didn’t mean any of it —”
But it’s too late. She’s already out the front door and banging it behind her.
“What’s all the commotion?” Mum asks, appearing in the hallway.
“I shark, Mummy,” Alex says, gnashing his teeth in her direction. “I eat you.”
“Was that you making all that noise, young man?” she asks him. “Here, let me take him, Amy. He’s heavy.”
“I’ll clean up the bathroom,” I say, relieved that Alex has managed to cover for me. My stomach is churning. How could I have been so stupid? What kind of eejit leaves her diary on show like that?
Mum smiles at me. “Thanks, pet. And who was at the door, by the way?”
“Just Mills popping in to ask about some homework due tomorrow.”
Mum tilts her head. “Are you sure everything’s all right? You’re very pale.”
“I’m just tired. Busy weekend.” I turn away from her, hoping she hasn’t spotted the tears starting to prick at my eyes because I have a horrible feeling that absolutely nothing is all right. I think I’ve just lost my best friend. And it’s all my own stupid fault.
Later, to try to take my mind off things and to stop Mills’s words from ringing in my ears —
What kind of person are you, Amy Green?
— I read another of Claire’s diary entries. If I can’t help myself, at least I can try to help someone else.
Dear Diary,
I’m back! Now . . . what was I writing about? Ah, yes, my very first class with Madame Irina.
Hang on, no, I should start by wishing you a very happy Saint
“It’s OK. I understand,” I say, feeling even worse about my diary rant. “Dundrum wasn’t so bad in the end. Dad got me a top at Harvey Nicks. Sonia Rykiel, no less.”
Mills looks at me blankly.
“She’s a French designer. It’s the most expensive thing I’ve ever owned.”
“Cool! Can I see it?”
“Sure, come on up. Alex is in the bath, and I’m supposed to be supervising him. Why don’t you wait in my room while I pull him out? It won’t take long. The top is hanging on the back of my door if you want to have a look.”
Mills goes to my bedroom while I deal with Alex. I walk back into the bathroom and gasp. “
Pógarooney,
goblin boy, what have you done?”
He’s lying tummy down on the floor tiles, completely naked, one hand on the back of his head.
“I shark,” he says. “I eat you.” He grabs my leg and chomps it with his surprisingly sharp baby teeth. Luckily, I’m wearing jeans or he might have broken the skin.
“Ow! Alex, stop that. And stand up. There’s water all over the floor.”
“Sea,” he explains. “Shark like sea.”
“What’s wrong with being a shark in the bath?” I ask him, losing patience.
“Too small,” he says. “I big shark.”
“Right, Mr. Shark,” I say, holding his arm firmly. “You’re in for it. Mum!”
I wrap a large towel around Alex, sling him over my shoulder in a quasi-fireman’s lift while he squeals with delight, and walk into the hall. I bump straight into Mills, who is running out of my room. There’s a funny look on her face. Her lips are pressed together and her cheeks are bright pink.
“What’s up, Mills?” I ask her.
Saying nothing, she just pushes past me and runs down the stairs.
“Mills, where are you going?” I call after her.
She swings around at the bottom of the stairs and clutches the banister. “Home!” Her eyes are welling up.
“Why? You’ve only just gotten here. What’s wrong?”
“You hate me. You think I’m annoying and stupid.” Her face crumples and tears start spilling down her cheeks. “
And
you were mean about my sister. I thought we were best friends. What kind of person are you, Amy Green?”
The whole world stops. The only thing I can hear is my own heart thumping wildly in my chest. Then I realize what Mills is talking about. I left my diary open on my desk, which means . . .
“Mills, don’t go,” I say frantically. “I can explain. I was in a bad mood. I didn’t mean any of it —”
But it’s too late. She’s already out the front door and banging it behind her.
“What’s all the commotion?” Mum asks, appearing in the hallway.
“I shark, Mummy,” Alex says, gnashing his teeth in her direction. “I eat you.”
“Was that you making all that noise, young man?” she asks him. “Here, let me take him, Amy. He’s heavy.”
“I’ll clean up the bathroom,” I say, relieved that Alex has managed to cover for me. My stomach is churning. How could I have been so stupid? What kind of eejit leaves her diary on show like that?
Mum smiles at me. “Thanks, pet. And who was at the door, by the way?”
“Just Mills popping in to ask about some homework due tomorrow.”
Mum tilts her head. “Are you sure everything’s all right? You’re very pale.”
“I’m just tired. Busy weekend.” I turn away from her, hoping she hasn’t spotted the tears starting to prick at my eyes because I have a horrible feeling that absolutely nothing is all right. I think I’ve just lost my best friend. And it’s all my own stupid fault.
Later, to try to take my mind off things and to stop Mills’s words from ringing in my ears —
What kind of person are you, Amy Green?
— I read another of Claire’s diary entries. If I can’t help myself, at least I can try to help someone else.
Dear Diary,
I’m back! Now . . . what was I writing about? Ah, yes, my very first class with Madame Irina.
Hang on, no, I should start by wishing you a very happy Saint
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