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dwellers. Aaron immediately shouted, “ Bottom dwellers? ”
    I ignored him.
    â€œThey lived in shallow water, and fed on d—”
    â€œStuff out of bottoms!”
    â€œ Detritus ,” I said.
    â€œBreakfast?” said Aaron.
    â€œDo you mind?” said the Herb. “I’m trying to learn something here. Go on, Deeje! What did they look like? How big were they?”
    I told her that they were all different sizes. How the average was probably somewhere between about three centimetres and ten, but the biggest one that had ever been found was nearer seventy.
    â€œ Seventy centimetres! Can you imagine? That’s amazing, for a trilobite.”
    Aaron said, “Yeah, wouldn’t want a thing that big coming at you.”
    â€œDon’t be such a wimp!” The Herb turned, and whacked at him with her trowel. “Let’s get digging! See if we can find some.”
    I do love the Herb! She is one of my favourite people. She may even be my most favourite people. Person. I just wish Aaron hadn’t gone and told her about Sheri Stringer. I don’t know why he had to do that.
    At five o’clock he went off to help Sophy Timms exercise her mum’s vast enormous dog. “It’s way too big for her to cope on her own.”
    â€œYes, cos she is so tiny,” said the Herb.
    â€œThis is it! Could pull her over.”
    â€œOh, screech!” The Herb fell down, dramatically, at the bottom of the hole.
    â€œâ€˜S all right for you,” said Aaron, as he climbed out. “You’re more like a boy.”
    The Herb scrambled back to her feet. She made a rude gesture with a finger. Then she said a rude word. Her language can be quite bad sometimes.
    â€œHey, Deeje,” she said. “Who’s this?” She clasped both hands to her chest. “Poor lickle me ! I’m tho thmall , I’m tho tiny , I need a big thtwong boy to help me. Oh, oh, thith twowel ith tho-o-o heavy, I can’t hold it!”
    I said, “Yeah, that does sound a bit like her.”
    â€œSounds exactly like her. We call her Barbie, like Barbie doll. Did you know she wears knickers with little pink flowers on them?”
    I shook my head. I wasn’t sure it was something I
    wanted to know.
    â€œ Pink! ” said the Herb. “I can’t stand pink. Can you?”
    â€œIt’s a bit girly,” I said.
    â€œCourse, some boys like girls that are girly. They like
    it when they squeak and twitter and say they can’t do things. It’s what some boys want. It makes them feel macho.” The Herb picked up a sieveful of earth and started shaking it, vigorously. “Does it make you feel macho?”
    â€œM-me?” I said. “N-no!”
    â€œYou can say if it does.”
    â€œIt doesn’t,” I said.
    The Herb went on shaking. “I won’t laugh at you. I know you can’t help it, it’s just the way boys are.”
    I said, “I’m not!”
    â€œYou don’t have to feel guilty . It’s a hormone thing, it—oooh, look!” She suddenly thrust the sieve under my nose. “Is that a trilobite?”
    Unfortunately it wasn’t, but at least the Herb tries, which is more than Aaron does. I’ve felt for the last few days that his mind hasn’t really been on his work. Now I know the reason why: Sophy Timms.
    I just would never have thought it.
Friday
    I meant to tell the Herb, yesterday, about Aaron training to be a giggle-o, but what with one thing and another, mainly a Russell managing to wriggle its way under the wire netting and get into the hole, then all the others starting to yammer and squabble, and the one that got in doing its best to dig down to Australia before I could grab hold of it—well, what with all that going on I never got around to it. Now I am very glad that I didn’t.
    Over tea this evening the Microdot said, “Did you ask him?”
    I said,