Read Online Fizzypop by Jean Ure - Free Book Online

bed. “What d’you think? D’you think it’s the sort of letter she might have written?”
    Actually, to be honest, I thought it was kind of embarrassing. The sort of thing best kept hidden away and read only in strictest privacy. Preferably late at night, under the duvet, with a torch. But Jem had her eyes fixed on me, obviously waiting for me to say something. I didn’t want to hurt her. She’s my friend and I knew how important it was. So I said yes, I thought it sounded exactly the sort of letter her birth mum might have written. Jem’s face glowed with pleasure.
    â€œMind you,” I said, “I don’t quite see how she’d have been able to write it the same time she was saying goodbye.”
    Jem crinkled her nose. “How d’you mean?”
    â€œWell… that bit about I am walking into the churchyard with you in my arms. How’d she manage to walk and write at the same time?”
    Jem obviously hadn’t thought of that. The pinkness came surging back into her cheeks. So then I felt mean and wished I hadn’t said anything.
    â€œP’raps it was artistic licence,” I said. “Like, she went home and sat down to write the letter and was kind of re-living things in her mind?”
    â€œMm.” Jem nodded, slowly. “’Cept I imagined her writing it before . So’s she could leave it with me, you know?”
    â€œOK! So instead of re -living it she was pre -living it.”
    I thought that was pretty neat, and so did Jem. She liked that explanation. Her face went into a big happy beam.
    â€œOf course –” she said it bravely – “if there is a letter it probably won’t be anything like this one.”
    â€œYou never know,” I said. “It might be. Are you…” I waved at the folder. “Are you planning on adding anything else?”
    â€œLike what? What sort of things d’you think I could add?” She leant forward, excitedly. “I thought of more photographs. Ones when she was younger? Like my age? And maybe she’d have left me a school report, or something, so I’d know what kind of things she was good at. See if they’re the kind of things I’m good at. That’d be interesting, wouldn’t it? Don’t you think?”
    I said, “Yes. Why not?” But I can’t have sounded very convincing cos Jem suddenly dropped her gaze and began plucking at the duvet.
    â€œI know it’s only pretend,” she muttered. “But it’s all I’ve got!”
    On the way home I called Skye on my mobile.
    â€œYou know we were talking about Jem being obsessed?” I said. “Well, it’s getting worse!” I told her about the folder and the letter.
    â€œHm. Acting out her fantasies,” said Skye.
    â€œBut I think she really believes them! She says it’s only pretend, but then she says it’s all she’s got.”
    â€œI dunno what we can do.”
    â€œWe’ve got to help her find her birth mum!”
    But how, that was the problem?

Chapter Seven
    Next day, which was Saturday, I found myself in the bathroom with Mum, explaining how it couldn’t possibly have been me that had left the hot tap running cos last time I’d used it the water had come out boiling hot and I’d got burnt, so now I only used the cold.
    â€œI wash in cold water ,” I said. “It’s good for you! And it saves on electricity.”
    â€œWhereas leaving the tap running does anything but,” said Mum.
    â€œWell, exactly! That’s why I wouldn’t do it. Ooh, that must be the post!” Rags had started his postman bark at the front door. “I’ll get it!”
    Apart from the fact that I enjoy collecting letters off the front door mat, I was glad to get away before Mum could start falsely accusing me. I wasn’t the one that wasted water! Even if I’d turned the hot tap on by mistake, which I