top?” Izzy asked, noticing a huge purple iced cake, covered in jelly jewels, which was hidden at the back of one of the tables.
“Anna did, and I helped with the icing and the sweets.” Maya grinned. “Anna loves making cakes but with Mum and Dad away so much, she doesn’t make them very often. I think she’d love us to have a cake sale every week.” Anna was Maya’s mum’s housekeeper, and she looked after Maya whenever her parents were away. Maya eyed the cake hungrily. “Even though it’s making me starving, it does seem a pity to slice it up. But no one from school’s going to buy a whole cake.”
“Guess the weight of the cake!” Poppy yelled suddenly. “They had that at the fete we went to last weekend! We make people pay fifty pence to guess.That’s bound to raise more money than cutting it up.”
“And the person who gets it right gets the cake?” Izzy nodded. “That sounds brilliant.”
“Oh, except we don’t know how much it weighs…” Poppy sighed.
“Mrs Brooker’s got some scales in the office, for weighing parcels before she sends them in the post. I’ve seen her do it.” Izzy looked at the cake, and shook her head. “I’m not carrying it, I’d die if I dropped it. You do it, Maya.”
They hurried Maya down the corridors to the office, with Emily marching in front, calling, “Gangway!” and “Cake coming through!”
“This is good, lots of people are admiring it,” Poppy pointed out. The bell had just gone, and school was heaving. “You have to guess the weight of it,” she told some Year Four girls who were staring hungrily at the jelly jewels. “We’ll bring it round all the classes later. Hopefully,” she added.
Mrs Brooker only sighed when they arrived at her office begging for scales. She handed them over, and some paper to make lists of weights. “I’m not looking, girls. But I want a go. I’m guessing, mmm, one kilogram, six hundred and thirty-four grams.”She handed Izzy fifty pence.
“No, it isn’t nearly that much, surely.” One of the mums who’d come in to order a new uniform peered at the cake.
“Would you like a guess?” Izzy asked hopefully.
“Go on then. But if I win, you’re not to give it to Max! It’ll never come home. One kilo exactly. That’s easy to remember.”
“A pound already and we haven’t even started the cake sale,” Izzy said smugly, jingling the box she’d brought for the money as they hurried to their classroom.
By twenty minutes into lunch time, Izzy was wishing she’d brought a bigger box. She was scrabbling around trying to find change, and write down people’s names on the Guess the Weight of the Cake list at the same time.
“Why are my cakes shoved at the back?” Ali snapped at her, and Izzy’s heart thumped painfully as she tried to think of something to say.
“They aren’t…” she muttered feebly. But they were. Mostly because they didn’t look all that good. Izzy thought that Ali had done what she usually ended up doing – not waited for them to cool downbefore she put the icing on, so it just ran off the top and left bald icingless cake in the middle.
“If you don’t want them, I’ll have them back!” Ali snarled, but Maya turned round from the other end of the stall, and Ali smiled in a sickly sort of way.
“What’s the matter?” Maya asked, noticing the flushed spots on Izzy’s cheeks.
“I was just seeing how my cakes were doing,” Ali purred. “Did your mum make any, Maya?”
“No. She’s away. ’Scuse me, someone else wants to buy something.” Maya hurried back to her place, but she was watching Izzy, and so were Poppy and Emily.
Ali shrugged and wandered away with her friends.
“I think we ought to put a label on her cakes that says Cut-price Bargain Seconds,” Izzy whispered to Poppy, wishing she’d thought of it in time to say to Ali – and been brave enough, which she wasn’t.
She sighed. Maybe one day.
SIX
Between the cake sale and guessing the weight
“Anna did, and I helped with the icing and the sweets.” Maya grinned. “Anna loves making cakes but with Mum and Dad away so much, she doesn’t make them very often. I think she’d love us to have a cake sale every week.” Anna was Maya’s mum’s housekeeper, and she looked after Maya whenever her parents were away. Maya eyed the cake hungrily. “Even though it’s making me starving, it does seem a pity to slice it up. But no one from school’s going to buy a whole cake.”
“Guess the weight of the cake!” Poppy yelled suddenly. “They had that at the fete we went to last weekend! We make people pay fifty pence to guess.That’s bound to raise more money than cutting it up.”
“And the person who gets it right gets the cake?” Izzy nodded. “That sounds brilliant.”
“Oh, except we don’t know how much it weighs…” Poppy sighed.
“Mrs Brooker’s got some scales in the office, for weighing parcels before she sends them in the post. I’ve seen her do it.” Izzy looked at the cake, and shook her head. “I’m not carrying it, I’d die if I dropped it. You do it, Maya.”
They hurried Maya down the corridors to the office, with Emily marching in front, calling, “Gangway!” and “Cake coming through!”
“This is good, lots of people are admiring it,” Poppy pointed out. The bell had just gone, and school was heaving. “You have to guess the weight of it,” she told some Year Four girls who were staring hungrily at the jelly jewels. “We’ll bring it round all the classes later. Hopefully,” she added.
Mrs Brooker only sighed when they arrived at her office begging for scales. She handed them over, and some paper to make lists of weights. “I’m not looking, girls. But I want a go. I’m guessing, mmm, one kilogram, six hundred and thirty-four grams.”She handed Izzy fifty pence.
“No, it isn’t nearly that much, surely.” One of the mums who’d come in to order a new uniform peered at the cake.
“Would you like a guess?” Izzy asked hopefully.
“Go on then. But if I win, you’re not to give it to Max! It’ll never come home. One kilo exactly. That’s easy to remember.”
“A pound already and we haven’t even started the cake sale,” Izzy said smugly, jingling the box she’d brought for the money as they hurried to their classroom.
By twenty minutes into lunch time, Izzy was wishing she’d brought a bigger box. She was scrabbling around trying to find change, and write down people’s names on the Guess the Weight of the Cake list at the same time.
“Why are my cakes shoved at the back?” Ali snapped at her, and Izzy’s heart thumped painfully as she tried to think of something to say.
“They aren’t…” she muttered feebly. But they were. Mostly because they didn’t look all that good. Izzy thought that Ali had done what she usually ended up doing – not waited for them to cool downbefore she put the icing on, so it just ran off the top and left bald icingless cake in the middle.
“If you don’t want them, I’ll have them back!” Ali snarled, but Maya turned round from the other end of the stall, and Ali smiled in a sickly sort of way.
“What’s the matter?” Maya asked, noticing the flushed spots on Izzy’s cheeks.
“I was just seeing how my cakes were doing,” Ali purred. “Did your mum make any, Maya?”
“No. She’s away. ’Scuse me, someone else wants to buy something.” Maya hurried back to her place, but she was watching Izzy, and so were Poppy and Emily.
Ali shrugged and wandered away with her friends.
“I think we ought to put a label on her cakes that says Cut-price Bargain Seconds,” Izzy whispered to Poppy, wishing she’d thought of it in time to say to Ali – and been brave enough, which she wasn’t.
She sighed. Maybe one day.
SIX
Between the cake sale and guessing the weight
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