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Authors: Nick Sharratt

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BOOK: Candyfloss
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‘But what am I going to
do
?’

‘You can write to your dad,’ said Mum.

‘I
knew
that’s why you got me that stationery set. I don’t want to write to him!’

‘Well, if he’d only join the modern world and get a mobile and a computer you could text and email him too,’ said Mum.

‘I want to be able to
see
him like I do now,’ I said.

‘Well, we’re not going to Australia for
ever
,’ said Mum. ‘Those six months will whizz past and then we’ll be back. Unless of course it’s so wonderful out there that we decide to stay on! Still, if we
did
decide to stay for good we’d come back on a visit.’

‘Your dad could maybe come out to Sydney to see you,’ said Steve.

He said it nicely enough but there was a little smirk on his face. He knew perfectly well my dad was having major money problems. He had barely enough for the bus fare into town. If flights to Australia cost hundreds of pounds there was no hope whatsoever.

‘You’re mean, Steve,’ I said, glaring at him.

‘Oh, Floss, how can you say that? Steve’s the most generous guy in the whole world,’ said Mum, deliberately misunderstanding. ‘He’s booked for us to go to TGI Friday’s as a special birthday treat for you tonight.’

‘I’d sooner have a birthday meal at home. A little party, just Rhiannon and me.’

‘I haven’t got the time, Floss. I’ve got one million and one things to get organized. Come on, you know you love TGI Friday’s. Don’t spoil your birthday making a fuss about nothing.’

I stomped back to my bedroom.

My dad wasn’t
nothing
! I loved him so much. I missed him every week when I was at Mum and Steve’s.

I’d forgotten I’d left Tiger in my bedroom. He’d got at my new gel pens. He’d decided to decorate my walls.

‘You are a
menace
,’ I hissed at him. ‘I wish
you
’d never been born. I wish my mum had never met your dad. I wish my mum was still with
my
dad.’

Tiger just laughed at me, baring his small sharp teeth.

 

2

I CHEERED UP
just a little bit when I got to school. I love Mrs Horsefield, my teacher. She gave me a great big smile when I came into the classroom and said, ‘Happy birthday, Floss.’ She gave me an iced bun to eat at break time. She gives each child in her class a bun when it’s their birthday, but mine was a special big one with pink icing and a cherry on the top.

Rhiannon was looking at it enviously. She especially likes cherries.

‘Want half my birthday bun?’ I offered.

‘No, it’s yours,’ she said, but she looked hopeful.

I gave her the biggest half of the bun with the cherry.

‘Yum!’ said Rhiannon, sucking it like a sweet. ‘OK, open your present from me, Floss.’

She gave me a pink tissue parcel tied with pink ribbon, and a special card. I really wanted us to go off together so that I could open my present
privately
, but Rhiannon seemed to want me to open it with everyone gathered around. She’d given me a proper shop-bought card of two girls hugging. It said at the top in pink lettering,
YOU ARE MY BEST FRIEND
. I started to be glad that Margot and Judy and all their gang were lurking.
See!
I wanted to say.
Rhiannon’s
my
best friend
.

‘Open your present, Floss. You’re such a slowpoke,’ said Margot.

She meant slow
coach
. She’s got this irritating habit of talking in a fake American accent and using silly American expressions. She thinks it makes her sound sophisticated but
I
think she sounds plain stupid.

I could make a l-o-n-g list of reasons why I can’t stick Margot. She used to be ordinary – in fact I can barely remember her back in the baby classes – but
this
year she’s making out she’s all grown up. She’s always giggling about boys and sex and pop stars. Judy giggles too. She looks as babyish as me but she’s got an older brother who tells her all these really rude jokes. I don’t understand most of them. I’m not sure Judy does either.

I was determined to take my time, smoothing the satin ribbon, feeling the little knobs of my present under the pink tissue, trying to guess what it was, but Rhiannon was getting impatient too.

‘Hurry up, Floss. I want to see if you like it!’

So I pulled the ribbon off and tore the tissue paper and held my present in my hand. It was a beautiful bracelet made of shiny pink beads.

‘They’re real rose quartz,’ said Rhiannon proudly.

‘They’re really really lovely,’ I whispered.

I was scared they must have cost a lot of money. I’d given Rhiannon a bracelet for
her
birthday, but it was just a pink and blue and purple friendship bracelet that I’d made myself. I’d also given her a friendship bracelet braiding set and hoped she’d make one specially for me, but she hadn’t got round to it yet.

‘It’s like . . . awesome,’ said Margot. ‘Let’s try it on, Floss.’

She snatched it straight out of my hand and wound it round her own wrist.

‘It’s
my
bracelet!’ I said.

‘OK then, baby – I’m not
taking
it, I’m just trying it on,’ said Margot.

‘You’re trying it on all right,’ I said grimly.

‘You’ve got like the most amazing taste, Rhiannon,’ said Margot. ‘Where did you get the bracelet? I wish I had one like that.’

Rhiannon started going on about this jewellery shop in some arcade, not really trying to help me get my bracelet back. I knew if I asked, Margot would just muck around, making fun of me. I
wanted
to grab it right back off her horrible bony wrist, but I was frightened of breaking it.

Susan shook her head at me sympathetically. She was standing right at the back, away from the others. She was new and hadn’t really made any friends yet. People teased her because she kept coming top of the class and she had a silly surname, Potts. Well, Rhiannon said it was silly. She teased her too. Rhiannon was very good at teasing. (Or very
bad
.) I wished she wouldn’t. I begged her not to, but she wouldn’t listen. Rhiannon bosses me about but you can’t
ever
boss her. But she
is
my best friend.

‘Rhiannon,’ I said desperately.

Rhiannon held out her hand to Margot. ‘Give us the bracelet back then, Margot.’

Margot handed it over reluctantly.

‘There,’ said Rhiannon, winding it round my wrist and doing up the clasp. Her cheeks were the delicate pink of the rose quartz. She was obviously pleased her bracelet had been so admired. ‘What other presents did you get, Floss? What did your mum give you?’

‘Clothes and one of those pull-along case thingies and a kangaroo cuddly toy,’ I said.

‘A cuddly toy! How gross!’ said Margot. ‘Imagine, still playing with teddies! What about
dolls
?’

I blushed, holding my breath. Rhiannon had seen my Barbie dolls when she came to play. I prayed she wouldn’t tell on me.

‘Come on, Rhiannon,’ I said, taking her by the arm. ‘I want to tell you this huge secret. Wait till you hear what my mum told me.’

‘What?’ said Rhiannon, licking a little dab of icing off her finger.

‘Yeah, what secret?’ said Margot. ‘You always have to create, like, a drama, Floss.’

‘Well, I guess this
is
pretty dramatic,’ I said, stung. I decided to show her. I took a deep breath. ‘We’re only going to Australia,’ I said.

They all stared at me. Rhiannon looked particularly impressed. ‘Wow, you’re going on holiday to
Australia
!’

‘Well,
I’m
going on holiday to Orlando,’ said Margot. ‘It’s got Disneyland. Australia hasn’t got Disneyland.’

‘It’s got the Great Barrier Reef and Bondi Beach and Ayers Rock,’ said Susan, who had crept to the edge of the group. ‘Though actually we should call it by its Aboriginal name, Uluru.’

‘Nobody asked
your
opinion, Swotty Potty,’ said Rhiannon. She turned to me. ‘So when are you going on this holiday, Floss? Any chance I can come too?’

‘I wish you could,’ I said. I was regretting telling
everyone
now. It made it seem too real. I had to explain properly. ‘It’s not a holiday. We’re going to stay there for six whole months.’


Really?

‘Yes,’ I said miserably. ‘Only I don’t think I want to. I like it here. I’ll miss my dad so much. And I’ll miss
you
, Rhiannon.’

‘I’ll miss you too!’ she said, and she hugged me tight.

I hugged her back.

Margot and Judy made silly noises and stupid comments but I didn’t care. Susan hitched her glasses higher up her nose, gave me a wan smile and wandered off. I felt bad that Rhiannon had called her names, but I couldn’t help it. I
liked
Susan. I wanted to be kind to her but I knew if I started speaking to her properly people would start teasing me too.

I started to think about the Australian school during lesson time. I would be the new girl. What if everyone started picking on me? I was
quite
clever but I didn’t ever come top, so they wouldn’t tease me for being swotty, would they? I had a perfectly ordinary kind of name, Flora Barnes. My initials didn’t spell anything silly or rude. I didn’t mind being called Floss or Flossie for a nickname. Rhiannon once or twice called me Flopsy Bunny but that was when she was making a big fuss of me.

I’d never ever find a friend in Australia like Rhiannon.

‘You will stay my friend when I’m out in Australia, won’t you?’ I begged her at lunch time. ‘And still be best friends when I come back?’

‘Yes, of course,’ said Rhiannon.

She wasn’t really concentrating. She was looking over at Margot and Judy, who were huddled up looking at some stupid pop magazine. They were giggling and kissing their fingers and stroking all their favourite boy bands. Rhiannon giggled too, watching them.

‘You won’t make friends with Margot when I’m gone, will you?’ I said anxiously.

‘Give it a rest, Floss! Which part of Australia are you going to, anyway?’

‘Sydney.’

‘Is that near Brisbane? That’s where they make
Neighbours
.’

We went to the library and found a big book about Australia.

‘Wow!’ said Rhiannon, flipping through pictures of bush and beaches and orange rocks and weird white buildings. ‘You are so lucky, Floss, it looks fantastic.’

It didn’t seem like a
real
place. It was all too bright and highly coloured and bizarre, like a cartoon. I looked down at the parquet pattern on
the
library floor and tried to imagine myself going down down down for thousands of miles and then bobbing out in Australia.

I’d never quite got to grips with geography. I knew the people in Australia weren’t
really
upside down, but it still seemed a little odd all the same.

We read a ballad about an Australian called Ned Kelly in our English lesson that afternoon. He was a sheep thief and he ended up getting hanged.

‘You’d better not steal any little lambs out in Australia, Floss!’ said Rhiannon.

Mrs Horsefield asked me to read a ballad about a Tragic Maiden out loud. I read it dramatically, making the Tragic Maiden weep and wail. Margot and Judy started snorting with laughter. Even Rhiannon smirked a little. I could feel myself blushing.

‘That was very good, Floss,’ said Mrs Horsefield kindly. ‘You’re very good at reading aloud.’

I’d always liked reading to my mum when she did the ironing or started cooking, but now she chatted to Steve instead. I’d tried reading aloud to Tiger, but he fussed and fidgeted and kept wanting to turn the page before I’d finished reading all the words.

‘Now I want you to have a go at making up your own ballads,’ said Mrs Horsefield.

‘Does it have to be all daft and old fashioned and tragic?’ said Rhiannon.

‘It can be about anything at all, as long as it’s in ballad form and tells a story,’ said Mrs Horsefield.

Everyone started groaning and scratching their heads and mumbling. Everyone except Susan, sitting by herself in front of us. She was scribbling away like anything.

‘Look at Swotty Potty,’ said Rhiannon. ‘Trust her. Oh yuck, I hate this ballad lark. What have you put so far, Floss?’


The girl sat in an aeroplane
,

Watching the clouds with wonder
,

Worrying how she’d get on

In her new life Down Under
.’

‘Down Under what?’ said Rhiannon. ‘That sounds stupid.’

‘Well, I know. I want to say “In Australia” but I can’t find a word for it.’

‘What about . . .
wailier
?’ Rhiannon suggested. ‘
The girl went ever more weepier and wailier because she was missing her best friend Rhiannon now she was in Australia
. There!’

‘It doesn’t fit, Rhiannon. It’s too long.’

‘Well, say it very quickly then. Now help me,
Floss
. So far I’ve got,
There was a pretty young girl called Rhiannon, who joined a circus and got shot out of a cannon
. Hang on, inspiration!
It hurt a lot when she got shot, that poor pretty young girl called Rhiannon
. There! Maybe I’m not such pants at ballads after all. Even though I don’t show off in a swotty way like
some
people.’ Rhiannon put her foot up and kicked Susan’s chair.

BOOK: Candyfloss
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