Lizzie Zipmouth (8 page)

But guess what! When Sam takes me round to Great-Gran's after school, Great-Gran and I sometimes go on secret trips down to the antique centre to see if there are any more dolls Great-Gran wants to buy. Sometimes I skip along beside Great-Gran. Sometimes I get to sit right on her lap and drive too!

We bought a beautiful big china doll the other day. She's got a pink dress and a white pinafore with tiny pink embroidered roses on it. We gave her a tea party with Alice and Sophie and Charlotte and Edward and Clementine when we got her home.

“But she's not going to live in the trunk with them,” said Great-Gran. “We'll have to get your dad to build her a special shelf.”

My dad? Then I realized she meant Sam.

“He's good at making shelves,” I said. “He's made special little shelves for all my mum's CDs.”

Great-Gran snorted. She still isn't all that keen on my mum. Mum isn't all that keen on Great-Gran, come to that. It doesn't matter. I can like them both. And Rory. And Jake. And even Sam. Sometimes.

They all like me too. Especially Great-Gran.

“What are we going to call the new doll, Great-Gran? I've got a good name for her! Rosebud.”

“No, I've chosen her name already. I'm naming her after someone very special,” said Great-Gran.

“Who?
Who?
”

“You sound like an owl! Don't shout! Dear, dear, first you creep around and we can't get a squeak out of you – and now you start shouting at the top of your voice. Calm down. I'm going to call the doll Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth,” I said. “Hey, that's
my
name, even though everyone calls me Lizzie!”

“Well, I never,” said Great-Gran and her blue eyes gleamed.

I gave her a great big grin, my mouth
totally
unzipped.