speeches (just in case she was lucky enough ever to have an audition),Rose to write an essay for school. Daisy settled herself in front of the television to watch her favourite video,
Lady and the Tramp.
She had seen it at least a dozen times, and it always made her cry, but as she said, “It ends happily, so it’s all right.”
At nine o’clock, Jazz came back downstairs in search of something to eat. Practising audition speeches made a person hungry.
“Want anything?” she said to Daisy.
Daisy shook her head. “I can’t find Tink,” she said.
“He’s probably in the garden.”
“He isn’t! I’ve looked. And anyway, it’s raining. He hates the rain!”
“In that case he’ll be hiding somewhere. Cats aren’t stupid,” said Jazz. She helped herself to a glass of milk and an apple and wandered through to the sitting room.
“
Let’s watch
Little Women.
”
Daisy obediently sat down on the sofa. Jazz slotted the video in and sat down next to her, with her milk and her apple. Almost immediately, Daisy was up and on her feet, running across to the window.
“What are you doing?” said Jazz.
“I thought I heard him!”
“Look, just stop fussing,” said Jazz. “You know what cats are like.”
“But they shouldn’t be out at night! It’s dark, he’ll get run over!”
“Not if he’s hiding under a hedge, he won’t.”
At ten o’ clock on the dot Rose came charging downstairs.
“She’s not back yet!”
In all the bother of Daisy, fretting herself over the missing Tinkerbell, Jazz hadn’t realised how late it was. Mum would be home in an hour’s time! What was she going to say if Laurel hadn’t turned up?
“Ten o’clock,” said Rose. “That’s her deadline!” She looked at Daisy. “Why have you been crying? I suppose it’s that stupid film!”
“It’s n–not the film.” Daisy sniffled, and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “T–Tink’s not here.”
“Neither’s Laurel,” said Rose. “That’s more to the point! If Mum comes back and finds—”
She broke off as the telephone rang.
“I’ll get it!” Jazz leaped out into the hall and clawed up the receiver. “Hallo?”
“Jazz? It’s me!”
“
Laurel
. Why aren’t you home yet?”
“He won’t bring me!” Laurel sounded scared. “We’re at this horrid p–party and he won’t l–leave and I th–think people are t–taking drugs. I don’t know what to do! I haven’t any m–money and I d–don’t know how to get home!”
“What is it, what is it?” Rose was jigging impatiently at Jazz’s elbow.
“It’s Laurel,” said Jazz. “Smarmy Simon won’t leave the party and she doesn’t know how to get home.”
“Where is she?”
“Where are you?” said Jazz.
“I d–don’t know!”
“She doesn’t know.”
“She must know!”
“You must know,” said Jazz.
“I don’t! I think it’s somewhere in the c–country.”
“She thinks it’s somewhere in the country,” said Jazz.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Rose snatched at the receiver. “Laurel? Don’t be so useless! Go and ask someone. Get the address!”
Jazz was impressed, in spite of herself. Good old Rose! Dad was right: she
was
the only adult in the family.
They waited.
“She’s gone to ask someone,” said Rose. “Find a pen!”
Humbly, Jazz did so.
“Write it down … 26 Chestnut Grove, Wimbledon. What’s the telephone number?” Rose relayed it to Jazz, who meekly made a note of it. “Right. Now we’re goingto think of something,” said Rose. “You just wait there and we’ll ring you back when we’ve thought.” She put the receiver down and turned to Jazz. “So what are we going to do?” she said.
Jazz took a breath. She was the next oldest, after Laurel. Rose was the youngest, she couldn’t leave it all to Rose.
“We’ve got to get her back before Mum comes in! We promised,” said Rose. “We said we could be trusted!”
They had given their word. And then that wretched Laurel had
Lady and the Tramp.
She had seen it at least a dozen times, and it always made her cry, but as she said, “It ends happily, so it’s all right.”
At nine o’clock, Jazz came back downstairs in search of something to eat. Practising audition speeches made a person hungry.
“Want anything?” she said to Daisy.
Daisy shook her head. “I can’t find Tink,” she said.
“He’s probably in the garden.”
“He isn’t! I’ve looked. And anyway, it’s raining. He hates the rain!”
“In that case he’ll be hiding somewhere. Cats aren’t stupid,” said Jazz. She helped herself to a glass of milk and an apple and wandered through to the sitting room.
“
Let’s watch
Little Women.
”
Daisy obediently sat down on the sofa. Jazz slotted the video in and sat down next to her, with her milk and her apple. Almost immediately, Daisy was up and on her feet, running across to the window.
“What are you doing?” said Jazz.
“I thought I heard him!”
“Look, just stop fussing,” said Jazz. “You know what cats are like.”
“But they shouldn’t be out at night! It’s dark, he’ll get run over!”
“Not if he’s hiding under a hedge, he won’t.”
At ten o’ clock on the dot Rose came charging downstairs.
“She’s not back yet!”
In all the bother of Daisy, fretting herself over the missing Tinkerbell, Jazz hadn’t realised how late it was. Mum would be home in an hour’s time! What was she going to say if Laurel hadn’t turned up?
“Ten o’clock,” said Rose. “That’s her deadline!” She looked at Daisy. “Why have you been crying? I suppose it’s that stupid film!”
“It’s n–not the film.” Daisy sniffled, and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “T–Tink’s not here.”
“Neither’s Laurel,” said Rose. “That’s more to the point! If Mum comes back and finds—”
She broke off as the telephone rang.
“I’ll get it!” Jazz leaped out into the hall and clawed up the receiver. “Hallo?”
“Jazz? It’s me!”
“
Laurel
. Why aren’t you home yet?”
“He won’t bring me!” Laurel sounded scared. “We’re at this horrid p–party and he won’t l–leave and I th–think people are t–taking drugs. I don’t know what to do! I haven’t any m–money and I d–don’t know how to get home!”
“What is it, what is it?” Rose was jigging impatiently at Jazz’s elbow.
“It’s Laurel,” said Jazz. “Smarmy Simon won’t leave the party and she doesn’t know how to get home.”
“Where is she?”
“Where are you?” said Jazz.
“I d–don’t know!”
“She doesn’t know.”
“She must know!”
“You must know,” said Jazz.
“I don’t! I think it’s somewhere in the c–country.”
“She thinks it’s somewhere in the country,” said Jazz.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Rose snatched at the receiver. “Laurel? Don’t be so useless! Go and ask someone. Get the address!”
Jazz was impressed, in spite of herself. Good old Rose! Dad was right: she
was
the only adult in the family.
They waited.
“She’s gone to ask someone,” said Rose. “Find a pen!”
Humbly, Jazz did so.
“Write it down … 26 Chestnut Grove, Wimbledon. What’s the telephone number?” Rose relayed it to Jazz, who meekly made a note of it. “Right. Now we’re goingto think of something,” said Rose. “You just wait there and we’ll ring you back when we’ve thought.” She put the receiver down and turned to Jazz. “So what are we going to do?” she said.
Jazz took a breath. She was the next oldest, after Laurel. Rose was the youngest, she couldn’t leave it all to Rose.
“We’ve got to get her back before Mum comes in! We promised,” said Rose. “We said we could be trusted!”
They had given their word. And then that wretched Laurel had
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