breakfast, Mum starts getting ready for the car boot sale.
âYou go with Milo,â I say, âand leave me here with Granny. I hate hanging out with Jess.â
Mum gives me her beady eye that means, âPlease do as youâre told, Jemima, because I am not so full of patience.â But I ignore it. I do not want to do as Iâm told. I do not want to go to the car boot sale!
âDonât start, Mima,â she says. âNot today.â
I have a beady eye too, but I wait until her back is turned before I give it to her.
Milo clings on to my leg.
âPlease come, Mima,â he says. âPlease come! Please come! Please come!â
He hangs off me like Iâm a tree and twists the skin on my leg.
âMima! Mima! Mima!â he chants like Iâm a football match that needs cheering on.
âOuch, Milo,â I say. âYouâre hurting me!â
âI said, donât start, Mima!â says Mum. âToday is hard enough for us all without you making things worse.â
When she turns her back I poke out my tongue. I wish I could stand up and say, YOUâRE THE ONE WHO IS UNHINGED, MUM. But I donât. The things I really want to say always get choked up in my throat until Iâm forced to swallow them down. Itâs the same with Jess. She says worrying stuff that frightens me, she gossips with her mum and tells me stuff my ears donât want to hear. So many times I want to say, SHUT UP, JESS! But as hard as I try I just canât.
I hope one day my voice will unblock itself like a drain and Iâll be able to speak up so clearly, like LALALALAALLLAAAA! Then everyone will hear everything thatâs all blocked up inside.
Â
Itâs heaving at the car boot sale. Everyone shoves and pushes in search of pathetic old treasures and silly magical gems. Milo has a pound burning in his fist. He rummages through buckets and baskets of wrecked toy cars looking for trucks and tanks.
âLook, Mima,â he says, holding up a rusty old tank. âIsnât it great? Dâyou think Dad drives one like this?â
Jess bounces around like a spaniel looking for strokes. She tries to act cool and flirts her fringe when we pass a stall with boys selling a few broken old skateboards. Jess is as pathetic as the car boot sale. I wish we could put her on a stall and sell her, but Iâd feel sorry for the poor family who ended up buying her. Theyâd be really disappointed, even if they only paid fifty pence for her.
I wouldnât buy her for a penny. I wouldnât even want Jess for free, even if she was going to be my slave.
I look at my watch. I wish I was at home. Thinking.
âCalm down, Jess,â says Georgie. âOooh⦠Mima, what do you think of Jessâs new jacket? We got it yesterday. Isnât it just so pink!â
âErmâ¦â I say, bending down to tie the lace on one of my big black boots. âYes, Georgie, itâs definitely pink.â
âI think itâs gorgeous,â says Mum. âYou should trysomething like this, Mima. You know⦠a bit pretty. Get yourself out of those boots for a change. Look,â she says, shoving a ten-pound note in each of our hands, âwhy donât you girls go off together and see what you can find?â
I glare at Mum. I donât want to be left with Jess. And she knows that! Iâd rather look after Milo. Iâd rather wander around alone.
I flash my eyes at Mum, trying to say, DONâT LEAVE ME WITH JESS. But she ignores me and shoos us both away. I bet her and Georgie want to talk about our dads. In private!
Jess slides over to the skateboard boys.
âHi,â she says, twiddling with her fringe. She picks up a cruddy old board. âHow much for this?â
âA fiver,â says one of the boys.
Jess flashes her eyes at them.
âThatâs a rip-off,â she says, pulling me away. âWe had a huge sigh of relief this morning