Smooch & Rose Read Online Free

Two enormous ears poked out. Jedda’s wet nose twitched in the direction of my bowl. Not long afterwards, her whole body emerged from the jumper. Her back legs were long and spindly with the knobbliest knees I’d ever seen. She had three toes on each foot. Then came her never-ending tail. Her shiny eyes stared at the cereal.
    I smiled. Lizzie lay on the floor beside me while I scooped a small amount of cereal onto the spoon and offered it to the hungry kangaroo. The end of her pink tongue dipped daintily into the cereal like she was worried she’d make a mess of her whiskers if she ate too fast. Each time the spoon emptied, I filled it again. Jedda took so long Lizzie was snoring before we were even halfway done.
    On the third-last spoonful, the bundle inside my T-shirt began to move. It felt like Smooch was doing a tumble turn. One tumble turn became three.
    â€˜Carol!’ I cried, trying not to panic. Lizzie sat bolt upright and tipped her head to the side. A volcano was erupting in my Santa belly. Perhaps Smooch didn’t like me after all?
    Carol was standing at the kitchen bench, rewrapping a bandage on an injured possum. She was at the tricky bit where you had to make sure it didn’t all unravel, so she didn’t look up when I called. ‘What?’ she said absently. Then, when she saw my stricken face, she added, ‘First, calm down and then just stick your hand into your shirt and ease the pouch out. No need to panic.’
    My mouth had gone completely dry. How would I know which end was up? What if he slipped out and cracked his head on the floor? I was supposed to be caring for him, not making things worse. So far I was a failure as a koala mother.
    â€˜Use both hands to unwrap the pouch. When you get to his body, hold him close. He might get a fright when he realises you’re not me.’
    I carefully unravelled the pouch until Smooch’s grey fluffy ears and bright button eyes appeared. My hands were shaking but he wasn’t the least bit worried that I wasn’t Carol. He clawed his way out and clung onto my neck. Then he turned his head to look at Jedda’s bowl.
    Carol laughed. ‘Greedy guts,’ she said. ‘He’s got a whiff of Jedda’s lunch. Stay there. I’ll make him up a bottle.’
    Jedda was getting fidgety. She wanted the last of her food and Smooch was making her wait. ‘Here, give me the bowl,’ said Carol when she came back from the kitchen. ‘I’ll finish up with Jedda and you feed Smooch. I think you’re his favourite anyway.’ She passed me a fresh warm bottle and I prised Smooch away from my neck. He guzzled down the whole lot and then snuggled into my lap for another snooze. I cuddled him into my arms and stroked his hairy ear with my thumb.
    â€˜You’re my favourite too,’ I whispered.

5. Lizzie

    By the time strawberry season was over, Smooch had grown too heavy for the pouch around our bellies. He still liked nestling in my hair and having cuddles on my lap, but it wasn’t quite the same as having him snuggled inside my shirt. Sometimes he would curl up next to Lizzie in the corner of Carol’s couch and I’d have to wait for them both to wake up before I could go home.
    But I didn’t mind. The longer I spent away from home the better. Gran hadn’t been the same since the letter from the bank. She moped about the place, obsessively flicking off light switches – to save electricity, she said – and complaining about all the carrots I fed Mickey. Worse still, she flinched every time the phone rang. It was always Uncle Malcolm anyway. Nag, nag, nag. The bank was getting impatient.
    Not long after Christmas, Carol said Smooch was big and strong enough to move into the aviary in her shady backyard. He’d started stealing the other animals’ food and nearly tipped Carol’s bookcases over while practising how to climb. He was 16-months old now and as big