Mimi (11 page)

“Please do that, Mimi,” sniffled Granny in the saddest voice. I didn’t say anything. I just slipped off Dad’s knee and went out of the kitchen and up the stairs and started writing down the bit from Sally’s diary that they wanted to see.

When I came down, Conor was there and so were Emmett and Emma. They must have come in when I was upstairs. Granny was putting out bowls of soup for all of them. Aunt B. was helping her. The kitchen was really crowded. I handed the note to Dad. He read it quietly, then handed it to Aunt B. and she read it out loud. At “
there is no need to call the police,”
the doorbell rang. At first I thought that it was the police, and then Grandad said, “I bet that’s your friend Orla.”

He was right, and I was glad to go up to my room with her, and Emma came up too while the adults talked about the note.

Orla and Emma had never met, but you wouldn’t have known it.

“Are you Dig?” asked Orla.

“No, I’m Dag,” answered Emma. “This silly moo is Dig.” And she pushed me onto the bed and the next thing, I don’t know how it happened, both Emma and Orla were on top of me and tickling me to death, and Emma was telling Orla to watch out “because Mimi does cracker-bums if she gets too giddy!”

And of course I did get too giddy and let out a huge cracker-bum, and both Emma and Orla fell back onto the floor, holding their noses and laughing.

It didn’t really seem right to be having so much fun when Sally was missing, but it is hard to be too serious with a friend like Orla and a cousin like Emma.

But then all of a sudden Orla did get serious. “I have a plan for finding Sally,” she said.

“Seriously?” asked Emma. She had stopped laughing now too.

“Seriously,” said Orla and we all sat on the bed and she explained. “We use Sparkler to track her down. Dogs have a great sense of smell. The police often use them to track down criminals.”

“Sally is not a criminal,” I said, but then I remembered about the stealing and I realized that she probably was one.

“They use dogs for tracking down missing people as well,” continued Orla.

“That’s right,” said Emma. “The dog gets the scent from a piece of the missing person’s clothes. I saw it on the telly.”

Then I remembered I had seen it too! On
Southsiders
when the old woman with the althesizers, or something like that . . . anyway, she had lost her memory and gotten lost, and they tracked her down with police dogs. The dogs sniffed her cardigan or something. “I’ll get one of Sally’s tops for Sparkler to sniff,” I said, and jumped up.

“Get one that hasn’t been washed,” called Orla. “It will have a stronger smell.”

Emma looked at Orla. “You’re clever!” she said to her, and Orla grinned.

“We’re taking Sparkler for a walk,” I told the adults.

“Taking the dog for a walk?” said Dad, looking puzzled.

“Good idea!” said Aunt B. “Good for the dog and good for you girls. No point in everyone moping around the house all day. Off you go. Chop-chop!”

Well, if Dad was surprised that I was taking Sparkler for a walk, it was nothing compared to how surprised Sparkler was. She charged in the minute I called out, “Walkies!” and flew around the kitchen, her tail wagging so hard it shook her whole fat body. She knocked into everyone and jumped on Aunt M. and put dirty paws all over her white jeans, and Aunt M. wasn’t a bit pleased but everybody smiled in spite of being so sad.

Once outside the front door, Sparkler made a run for the gate. I was holding on to her lead, but she just dragged me after her.

“She hasn’t had a walk for a long time, has she,” said Orla as she tried to hold Sally’s top up to Sparkler’s nose — but Sparkler didn’t even seem to notice it.

“SIT, SPARKLER!” I shouted, but of course that made no difference. “Grab her collar,” shouted Emma, so we both held her by the collar while Orla held up Sally’s top. This time, Sparkler at least noticed the top. She thought that it was a great game. She grabbed it in her teeth, and when Orla tried to pull it away the sleeve ripped off.

“Oh, great,” I muttered. “Now Sally is going to kill me!”

“Don’t worry about that,” said Emma. “We won’t tell her. We’ll just throw the top in the trash when we’re done.”

Then Orla shouted, “She’s got it! Sparkler’s got the scent.”

Sparkler was now pawing and sniffing at the torn top as if it was the most interesting thing in the whole wide world. Did she smell Sally on it? Then suddenly Sparkler headed off out through the gate, with Emma and me holding the lead, letting ourselves be pulled along after her. She turned right, and keeping her nose close to the wall trotted along as if she knew exactly where to go.

“Go on, Sparkler, lead us straight to Sally,” shouted Orla, all excited.

Well, the scent led to the first lamppost, where Sparkler stopped to do a poop. I knew that I should pick it up, but I didn’t have a bag, so I didn’t.

“Yuck!” said Orla. “Dogs’ bottoms should be corked!”

Then Sparkler found the trail again and was off, sniffing at the wall and dragging us along.

Well, it wasn’t a straightforward journey that Sparkler led us on: in and out of front yards and around parked cars, and she stopped at every tree to pee.

“Your dog has sprung a leak,” said Orla, which made us all laugh.

To tell the truth I didn’t believe that Sparkler was going to lead us to Sally. She’s a nice dog, but she is a bit of a brainless mutt. I don’t think Orla and Emma believed in Sparkler the great sniffer dog either, but at least it felt as if we were doing something, and in some way it took my mind off Sally’s having gone missing. It felt more as though she was playing hide-and-seek with us. But still, in the pit of my stomach there was a hard black lump just like I get when I think of Mammy gone forever.

In the end Sparkler led us into a broken shed near the railway. In the corner of the shed was a large crumpled-up sheet of black plastic, and even in the dim light we could all see something moving under it.

“Sally!” whispered Emma, and lifted a corner of the plastic. Sparkler charged into the gap she’d made, pulling the lead out of my hand, and a terrified cat came squealing out the other side, its fur standing up and its tail standing out.

Orla and I screamed as it flew past us as if its tail were on fire. Sparkler — completely covered in the plastic — raced after it, and Emma nearly broke her sides laughing.

“Sparkler is no sniffer dog,” said Orla when she had gotten over her fright.

“It was worth a try,” said Emma, and we headed for home.

The journey home was slower, because Sparkler was not fit. This time we were dragging her, instead of the other way around.

Outside our house there was a police car. I stopped in my tracks. My knees felt all weak and shaky. Emma noticed because she said, “Are you OK, Mimi? You’ve gone all white.”

“The police are in my house,” I barely whispered. Inside my head a voice was saying that Sally was dead, just like Mammy.

“They have probably found Sally,” said Orla.

The policeman in our house had not found Sally, but he still had his cap on, which must mean that at least she was not dead. He was sitting at the kitchen table writing notes while Dad described Sally. Everyone was still there, and Uncle Horace had arrived too so it was even more crowded. Emma and Orla stayed in the hall. Dad looked up when I came in.

“Sally said don’t call the police,” I told him in an angry voice.

“Horace had already called them,” explained Dad quickly. “They were already on their way when you were reading Sally’s diary.”

Then the policeman turned to me. He had a kind face. “You must be Mimi,” he said. “Your Uncle Horace did the right thing, Mimi. We are just here to help.”

Then Granny clapped her hands and said, “Now, Mimi, why don’t you come and stay with me and Grandad for the night? Emma and your friend Orla, if she wants, can come for tea and Grandad can drop them home later. Conor says he wants to stay here with your daddy and help in the search, but you would be happier in my house for one night, wouldn’t you?”

I looked at Dad, but he just smiled and said that was a great idea so that was that. I was glad. I really didn’t want to stay in our house if Sally wasn’t there.

As soon as we got to Granny and Grandad’s house, Granny sat us down for cakes and lemonade.

“Our granny makes great cakes, Orla,” said Emma while we waited for Granny to get the tea ready.

“Mimi,” said Grandad very seriously, “I have some bad news.” I must have looked frightened, because he said quickly, “No, no, no, not
that
kind of bad news — just about chess.”

“About chess?” I said slowly. I couldn’t imagine bad news about chess except if he was going to say that I had to play it now.

“Well, you know your Uncle Horace’s computer?” Grandad began.

“Oh, he’s always playing on that,” interrupted Emma.

“Yeah, so does my dad on his,” agreed Orla.

“Well, anyway,” continued Grandad, “I got Horace to goggle the origins of chess for me.”

“I think you mean Google,” said Orla.

“Goggle, Google, what’s the difference?” wondered Grandad, shaking his head.

“There’s a big difference!” said Emma.

“He’s just an old fool,” Granny said, laughing as she came in with a tray full of nice things to eat.

“Can I finish my story, please?” asked Grandad, pretending to be annoyed. “Anyway, Mimi, according to Horace’s computer, chess was probably invented in India — not in China after all. Now isn’t that bad news?”

“That’s terrible, Grandad!” I said, and pretended to be horrified. Emma and Orla got a fit of the giggles.

“Of course I can still teach it to you if you like, but it’s not really a Chinese game. Are you heartbroken, Mimi?”

“If chess is not Chinese, I don’t want to learn it,” I said as sadly as I could, while Emma held her sides and fell off her chair.

“So we’ll just have to watch boring old
Southsiders
instead!” finished Grandad, shaking his head sadly.

Granny had now set the table and was pouring out lemonade. “Rightio!” she said. “Up off the floor, you, you silly-billy,” she told Emma, “and tuck in.”

“Thank you very much,” said Orla politely. My mouth was already full.

“You are very welcome, young lady,” smiled Granny. “And I’m sorry there aren’t as many éclairs as I thought. I don’t know what’s happened to them. I’ve looked everywhere.”

While Granny was saying this, Grandad was making faces behind her back. He was blowing out his cheeks and sticking out his tummy and pointing at Granny and miming the words, “She ate them.” Emma was drinking lemonade and it all squirted out of her nose when she saw what Grandad was up to. Orla couldn’t keep her giggles in when Emma did that. Giggles are normally very catching, but although I was smiling I just couldn’t seem to catch the giggles today.

“What are you up to behind my back, old man?” asked Granny, and popped an éclair into her mouth, which only made Emma laugh harder.

“Nothing, love,” said Grandad, and winked at me.