Brigid Lucy Needs A Best Friend (5 page)

Biddy puts her hand over her mouth. ‘But it wasn’t Dad. Dad didn’t put
enough
powder in. It was me who…’

‘Don’t tell, Biddy,’ I say. ‘You will get into trouble.’

But she steps forward. ‘Mum,’ she says.

‘Brigid!’ Mum says putting her hand up to tell her to be
quiet
.

‘But, Mum,’ Biddy says again. ‘It wasn’t Dad.’

Mum puts her hand over the phone and yells, ‘Brigid Lucy. I am on the phone. Please go to bed.’

Biddy twists her mouth sideways to stop herself from talking. Then she goes to wait in the hall for Mum to get off the phone.

We can hear Mum. Talking. Talking. Talking. Then she says, ‘Thanks,
Mum
. You are such a
help
. I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘Mum?’ Biddy whispers. ‘Mum said, “Mum”. She was talking to Granny!’

Granny is Mum’s mum so that is why she calls her ‘Mum’. Granny is our absolute favourite grown-up. She’s a scientist. She knows everything about
magic
and nature. She makes all the magic get-well potions for the POISON— DO NOT TOUCH cupboard. And she has all the stories about witches and dragons. She even knows where fairies live.

Plus, Biddy can tell her anything. She always sticks up for Biddy, always.

‘Mum said, “See you in the morning”,’ Biddy whispers. ‘That means Granny is coming in the morning.’

And so Biddy
forgets
all about telling Mum about the dishwasher. She runs to her room, jumps into bed, pulls the sheet over her head and sings in a whisper, ‘Granny’s coming over. Granny’s coming over!’

Dad comes in to say goodnight. Usually when Dad does the ‘
goodnighting
’, he reads Biddy a story. Then he says, ‘Now go to sleep,’ turns off the light and goes out. But tonight, he doesn’t even open the book.

Biddy puts her arm around Dad and says, ‘Daddy, are you alright?’ He nods and opens the book. ‘Are you in trouble, Dad?’ Dad smiles a brave smile. ‘The dishwasher,’ he says.

‘Biddy,’ I say. ‘Don’t tell Dad about the dishwasher or we won’t get to go to the Botanic Gardens.’

But she doesn’t listen.

‘But you didn’t put too much powder in,’ she says. ‘You didn’t put
enough
in. I had to put more in to make it work.’

‘
You what?
’ Dad says.

‘Stop, Biddy!’ I yell, running out to the end of her nose with my arms up. ‘Adults can’t understand explanations.’

But Biddy explains to Dad about the ‘not enough powder’. And how she knows she’s not allowed in the POISON—DO NOT TOUCH cupboard. So she used detergent instead.

‘But you promised to be
good
,’ Dad shouts. ‘We shook hands on it! You said you would help.’

‘But I was helping,’ Biddy says.

‘Helping?’ Dad says getting up. ‘Putting dishwashing detergent in the dishwasher isn’t helping!’

Then he glares at Biddy.

‘We won’t be going to the Botanic Gardens after this,’ he says and walks out closing Biddy’s door with a
thump
.

I want to tell Biddy, ‘I told you not to tell him!’ And, ‘Why don’t you ever listen to me?’ But Biddy is so sad, she is not even sucking her thumb. She is just looking at the ceiling, her eyes all crumpled up with
melancholy
. (That’s a fairy story word meaning too, too, too sad.)

She is as melancholy as a tristeelia. They are the saddest creatures in the known universe. They come from the Great Bushland where I come from. They live in old cars and tyres that humans have abandoned.

I feel like a tristeelia too. It is like everything is too hard and too sad. I don’t know how to help Biddy. So I just lie on her eyelids to make them
heavy
. Then stroke them to make her go to sleep.

Chapter seven

a friendship spell

The next morning we smell cinnamon and dates. ‘Granny’s porridge,’ Biddy says. She jumps out of bed and runs to the kitchen. And there is Granny. Stirring a pot of porridge. ‘Granny,’ Biddy whispers so she doesn’t wake up anyone else, and wraps her arms around Granny’s waist.

‘How is my
gorgeous
girl?’ Granny says. She sits down at the kitchen table and pulls Biddy onto her lap.

Biddy snuggles into her softness for ages and ages. Then she sits up.

‘Granny, I’m so glad you are here,’ Biddy says. ‘The terriblest things have happened. I haven’t got one single friend.
No one
at school likes me.’ Then Biddy’s voice cracks with crying. ‘I’m the most all alone no friend person in the entire
universe
.’

‘Give it time,’ Granny says cuddling her. ‘You will find a friend.’

‘I was going to get a friend at the Botanic Gardens,’ Biddy sobs. ‘Now Mum and Dad won’t let me go!’ She looks up at Granny. ‘Please can you make Mum take me to the Botanic Gardens?’

‘No, darling,’ Granny says, cuddling Biddy closer. ‘Your mum is the boss of you. You have to do what she says.’

‘But what if
you
tell her, Granny? You are Mum’s mum,’ Biddy says. ‘She has to do what her mum says too.’

Granny laughs. Her whole face
wobbles
with
giggles
, especially her chins. ‘Come on now, my clever little one,’ she says. ‘Let’s have our porridge and a nice talk before those noisy babies wake up.’

But then, ‘Mummy!’ Matilda does wake up and makes so much noise that she wakes up Mum
and
little Ellen.

Then all the time is taken up with changing of nappies, and making of cups of tea and feeding little Ellen porridge.

And Mum is talking to Granny about grown-up stuff like being sick and babies and
hospitals
.

We can’t cuddle Granny because Miss Getting-All-The-Attention Matilda has taken up all the space on Granny’s knee.

And we can’t talk to her because Mum is telling Granny that Biddy is disobedient and
rambunctious
. (Which is like yelling and jumping and having too much fun.) And, ‘That-child-will-be-the-death-of-me.’

But Granny doesn’t tell Mum off for ‘telling tales’. Which is not fair. When Biddy tells tales, Granny says, ‘Don’t tell tales. Tails are for monkeys.’

That afternoon, when Mum and Matilda and little Ellen lie down to have a rest, me and Biddy get Granny all to ourselves again.

‘Granny,’ Biddy asks, ‘do you really think I will get a best girlfriend?’

‘Of course, darling,’ Granny says. ‘A
wonderful
, kind, clever girl like you will always find a best friend.’

‘Can I have a friend, too?’

That’s Matilda. She’s one of the little kids. She should be sleeping.

So Biddy says, ‘Matilda, go back to bed.’

But Granny cuddles Matilda and says, ‘I think we need a friendship
spell
.’

‘What’s a spell?’ Matilda asks.

‘A spell makes wonderful things happen,’ Granny says.

‘Like a
miracle
,’ Biddy explains to Matilda. ‘Can you really make a girlfriend spell?’ Biddy asks Granny. ‘Can I have a friend with long brown hair in plaits and a pony? Can her name be Isolde?’

‘Me too,’ Matilda says. ‘And a silver grey Siamese cat.’

‘No, Matilda,’ Biddy says. ‘You are too little for making spells.’

But Granny says, ‘Actually,
three
people will make the spell stronger.’

‘Okay then, Matilda,’ Biddy says, ‘but you have to do everything Granny says.’ She lifts her finger like Mum does when she is very serious. ‘No crying or the spell might go wrong and turn you into a frog.’

‘I won’t cry,’ Matilda says and holds her lips tightly together.

‘
Cat-a-clys-mic Cat-astro-phe!
’ I say. Spells are real. They are like the Incantation Songs the magical creatures in the Great Bushland use to turn you into a piece of infinity. Remember in Cinderella how the fairy godmother turned the pumpkin into a golden carriage? That’s a spell. Or when the wicked witch turned the prince into a frog? They really work!

If Granny casts a spell, Biddy will really get a human friend. ‘I’ve got to
stop
them,’ I say running up and down Biddy’s arm in panic.