elephant is a stupid idea – there is no way there
is room for it in the house OR the garden! I have tried with cardboard boxes and it is what Dad would call a No Brainer. Whereas I have at least three trees which would fit an orang-utan and which
are very fantastic for climbing, and that is what orang-utans like.’
Flo stared at Felix very hard. Felix shuffled his chair back from the table. He was worried that she might be able to melt him or zap him into tiny pieces with a stare like that. But he kept his
resolve and said firmly: ‘It’s
my
birthday, and I don’t want an elephant. I’ve decided. I want an orang-utan. He’s been mistreated by nasty humans and he needs
a good home. And he’s called Reggie.’
‘REGGIE?’ Flo exploded. ‘What kind of a stupid grandad-type name is that? You are a weirdo, Felix Stowe.’
The grown-ups round the table had gone very quiet and were all watching this spectacle. Zed was the first to break the silence. ‘Hey, guys – don’t you like my cooking?’
he asked.
Felix felt hot around the ears. ‘No! I mean, yes, I do. Flo is just a Fussy Eater, that’s all.’
Flo made a noise halfway between a gasp and a shout and crossed her arms grumpily. ‘You are being horrible!’ she cried. ‘And I hate you and I hate beans
and
cheese
and
crunch and I absolutely TOTALLY hate orang-utans!’
‘What’s going on?’ Mum asked sharply.
‘Erm, Flo – ever had your hair braided?’ Silver interrupted hastily.
‘No. Why?’ Flo asked with narrowed eyes.
‘Well, I brought some stuff along to show you – wanna see?’ Silver asked, pushing her chair back. ‘Can we be excused, Marge?’ she asked Mum.
‘Good idea,’ Mum said enthusiastically. ‘Felix can help me clear these plates and bring the pudding over.’
Zed winked at Felix. He waited until Flo and Silver had left the room and then whispered, ‘Girls, eh? Will we ever understand them?’
Felix shook his head unhappily.
‘Be cool, man,’ said Zed. ‘Whatever it is, nothing is a match for Silver’s hair-braiding and chocolate brownies. Flo’ll be a pushover after that, just you
see.’
They went into the kitchen with the dirty plates and helped Mum stack the dishwasher and wash up the pots and pans and then they collected the strawberries and brownies to take back out to the
table.
‘If we’re quick enough, we might be able to get a helping in while the girls are doing their hair,’ Zed teased, reaching for the plate of brownies and snaffling a couple.
‘Down, Dyson! Chocolate is really bad for dogs,’ Felix cried, pushing Dyson’s snout away from the plate.
‘Down, Zed, as well for that matter!’ Silver admonished. She had reappeared with a transformed Flo.
Felix nearly choked on the chunk of broken-off brownie Zed had shoved his way. Flo looked like a frightened hedgehog who had fallen into a magpie’s nest and come out covered in bits of
foil and multicoloured rubbish.
‘Wha—?’ Felix blurted out.
‘Ah,’ said Mum, biting her lip and trying not to laugh.
‘Doesn’t she look great?’ Silver cut in quickly.
‘Er,’ said Felix.
‘So. What’s up?’ Flo said casually, twirling a braid round her fingers and standing kind of sideways, with one hand on one hip: a position that she obviously thought made her
look very grown-up and sophisticated. Like one of those people on the posters Merv had in his room. Not that Felix had ever had a proper close-up look at those posters, as Merv didn’t let
anyone go into his room. He had a handwritten notice on his door that said ‘Come in here and you’re dead’, which sort of put Felix off.
Felix puffed noisily to cover up the panicky laughter fit that was building momentum in his chest.
Zed coughed loudly and said, ‘Last one to the table gets NO chocolate!’
10
FELIX GOES
BANANAS
The next morning Flo told Felix that the minute she had got home her mum had made her take all the braids and bits of ribbon and beads out of
is room for it in the house OR the garden! I have tried with cardboard boxes and it is what Dad would call a No Brainer. Whereas I have at least three trees which would fit an orang-utan and which
are very fantastic for climbing, and that is what orang-utans like.’
Flo stared at Felix very hard. Felix shuffled his chair back from the table. He was worried that she might be able to melt him or zap him into tiny pieces with a stare like that. But he kept his
resolve and said firmly: ‘It’s
my
birthday, and I don’t want an elephant. I’ve decided. I want an orang-utan. He’s been mistreated by nasty humans and he needs
a good home. And he’s called Reggie.’
‘REGGIE?’ Flo exploded. ‘What kind of a stupid grandad-type name is that? You are a weirdo, Felix Stowe.’
The grown-ups round the table had gone very quiet and were all watching this spectacle. Zed was the first to break the silence. ‘Hey, guys – don’t you like my cooking?’
he asked.
Felix felt hot around the ears. ‘No! I mean, yes, I do. Flo is just a Fussy Eater, that’s all.’
Flo made a noise halfway between a gasp and a shout and crossed her arms grumpily. ‘You are being horrible!’ she cried. ‘And I hate you and I hate beans
and
cheese
and
crunch and I absolutely TOTALLY hate orang-utans!’
‘What’s going on?’ Mum asked sharply.
‘Erm, Flo – ever had your hair braided?’ Silver interrupted hastily.
‘No. Why?’ Flo asked with narrowed eyes.
‘Well, I brought some stuff along to show you – wanna see?’ Silver asked, pushing her chair back. ‘Can we be excused, Marge?’ she asked Mum.
‘Good idea,’ Mum said enthusiastically. ‘Felix can help me clear these plates and bring the pudding over.’
Zed winked at Felix. He waited until Flo and Silver had left the room and then whispered, ‘Girls, eh? Will we ever understand them?’
Felix shook his head unhappily.
‘Be cool, man,’ said Zed. ‘Whatever it is, nothing is a match for Silver’s hair-braiding and chocolate brownies. Flo’ll be a pushover after that, just you
see.’
They went into the kitchen with the dirty plates and helped Mum stack the dishwasher and wash up the pots and pans and then they collected the strawberries and brownies to take back out to the
table.
‘If we’re quick enough, we might be able to get a helping in while the girls are doing their hair,’ Zed teased, reaching for the plate of brownies and snaffling a couple.
‘Down, Dyson! Chocolate is really bad for dogs,’ Felix cried, pushing Dyson’s snout away from the plate.
‘Down, Zed, as well for that matter!’ Silver admonished. She had reappeared with a transformed Flo.
Felix nearly choked on the chunk of broken-off brownie Zed had shoved his way. Flo looked like a frightened hedgehog who had fallen into a magpie’s nest and come out covered in bits of
foil and multicoloured rubbish.
‘Wha—?’ Felix blurted out.
‘Ah,’ said Mum, biting her lip and trying not to laugh.
‘Doesn’t she look great?’ Silver cut in quickly.
‘Er,’ said Felix.
‘So. What’s up?’ Flo said casually, twirling a braid round her fingers and standing kind of sideways, with one hand on one hip: a position that she obviously thought made her
look very grown-up and sophisticated. Like one of those people on the posters Merv had in his room. Not that Felix had ever had a proper close-up look at those posters, as Merv didn’t let
anyone go into his room. He had a handwritten notice on his door that said ‘Come in here and you’re dead’, which sort of put Felix off.
Felix puffed noisily to cover up the panicky laughter fit that was building momentum in his chest.
Zed coughed loudly and said, ‘Last one to the table gets NO chocolate!’
10
FELIX GOES
BANANAS
The next morning Flo told Felix that the minute she had got home her mum had made her take all the braids and bits of ribbon and beads out of
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