Mostly Sunny with a Chance of Storms (24 page)

Lyall did exactly as he was told, reassuring Steph that the hose was from the greywater tank we used for the garden, so we weren’t wasting good drinking water.

Steph set the hose on the dog fight, focusing on squirting Banjo. The three of them separated at once and whenever one even looked like moving she blasted them with water.

‘Now, put their leashes on!’ she yelled. ‘And tie them up well away from one another.’

Lyall and Saskia set to it while Steph turned the hose off and came over to inspect Willow’s foot. The skin was broken, but it wasn’t very deep. Banjo had pretty much given Willow the same wound as he’d given me. ‘Should be okay,’ said Steph. ‘Just give it a wash, Sunny.’

‘I will,’ I said. ‘Sorry to disturb you, Steph. Thanks for breaking up the fight.’

‘Don’t mention it,’ said Steph. ‘It seems like that dog doesn’t need Boredom Control. He’d do better with some Anger Management.’ Then she became suddenly self-conscious, as if she’d only just realised she was walking around in her nightie. ‘I’d better go check on Flora,’ she said.

I carried Willow up the back steps, and set her down
on the doormat, where she curled herself over and began sorrowfully licking her bitten foot.

‘I’m sorry, girl,’ I said gently patting her head. ‘In your own home too; that’s just rude!’

I looked over to where Lyall had tied Banjo to the pipes on the wall near the tap. Banjo looked every bit pleased with himself, as if he’d do it all again in a flash if he had half a chance.

It was lucky for us (and for them!) that neither Sophia nor Woolfie were hurt in the dog fight, but can you believe Lyall
still
wanted to give Banjo another chance?

‘Not on your life, Lyall!’ I said as we were drying Woolfie and Sophia off.

‘Forget it, Lyall,’ Saskia added. ‘We already agreed that
today
was his last chance and that sacking him was going to be
your
job.’

‘Fine,’ said Lyall. ‘I’ll sack him if he plays up next time.’

‘No way!’ I said. ‘I’m taking him straight back to the Archers’ right now and sacking him myself. You coming, Saskia?’

‘Absolutely,’ confirmed Saskia. ‘That dog is
out,
Lyall, and there’s nothing you can do about it.’

It was only as Saskia and I were marching Banjo back to his home that I realised Lyall had used Reverse Psychology on me.

‘That sneaky little …’

‘What?’ asked Saskia.

‘Have a look at us. Lyall got what he wanted, didn’t he?’

‘But he wanted Banjo to stay,’ said Saskia.

‘No, silly, what he really wanted was to drop Banjo, but not to have to do it himself. He just
pretended
he wanted Banjo to stay so he wouldn’t have to do the sacking part.’

‘Ugh! That’s so typical Lyall.’

Banjo pulled on his leash as we approached the Archer’s front fence and started wagging his tail like crazy when he saw Mr Archer collecting the mail.’

‘Hi, girls!’ he said. ‘How was Boredom Control today?’

It wasn’t easy giving Banjo the sack, I can tell you. Still, it had to be done and in the end I had to do it all. Saskia just stood there and acted as if she didn’t speak English.

Mr Archer assured us Banjo had absolutely
never
bitten anyone before, especially not other dogs. Eventually I got Mr Archer to understand that we didn’t think Banjo was the right sort of customer for Boredom Control. I mean, we were fine with him on the issue of relieving
boredom
but were absolute failures when it came to
control.
In the end I just showed him my ankle, which was still bruised. That made all the difference.

Saskia and I walked most of the way home in silence.

‘Are you cross with me, Sunny?’ she asked sheepishly, knowing she shouldn’t have dumped the whole job on me.

But I wasn’t really that annoyed with Saskia. She is
only nine after all. Mostly I was annoyed with myself for not detecting Lyall’s implementation of payback Reverse Psychology. Reverse-Reverse Psychology – who would have thought?

It was getting
dark when I knocked gently on Steph’s door.

‘Come in,’ I heard her say, so I eased the door open and shut it quietly behind me.

She was in bed reading, and Flora was next to her, fast asleep with her arms up above her head as if she was floating.

‘Hi, Sunny,’ she said. ‘Flora’s been asleep for hours, so I thought I’d make the most of it and have a bath and a read. Sorry about our walk. The day just seemed to slip away.’

‘That’s okay.’

‘It really is lovely up here. It’s like another world. I’m not going to want to go home – kind of dreading it actually, even if we are flush with freezer meals.’

‘I don’t want you to go home either,’ I said. Even thinking about it made me get throat ache.

‘Mum and Carl said that we can bring dinner up to you later, like a real hotel or a hospit—’ I suddenly thought that I shouldn’t mention hospital, considering that there had been talk of Steph having to go there.

‘You know what, Sunny? I know you’re not meant to
enjoy
a dog fight, but there was something about hosing that crazy dog away that gave me a big surge of energy. I feel like I’ve got a bit of life in me again. Strange, isn’t it?’

‘Wow,’ I said. ‘Maybe Banjo wasn’t such a disaster after all.’

Flora made a few stirring noises and opened her eyes.

‘Can I have a hold?’ Steph nodded and I slid my hand gently under Flora’s head and scooped her off the bed and into my arms. ‘There you go, Flora,’ I said. ‘It’s me again, your naughty big sister, Sunny.’

Flora studied my face for the longest time, because when you’re that young you can stare at people without anybody telling you that it’s bad manners. I could also see her looking about for Steph. ‘Mumsy’s right here, Flora, no need to worry.’

Flora looked at me again as if to wonder whether I was a reliable source. I guess she thought I was, because her whole face broke into the biggest smile ever. Then she looked dead serious again, as though perhaps she
was worried for me about the goo-goo baby noises I was making as I smiled back at her.

‘Yes Flora,’ I said. ‘You’re going to love it here, yes you are, yes you are, yes you are.’

I got to hold Flora all through dinner because she cried every time we put her in the pram. Then Saskia had a turn while I ate my fish.

‘Would you like a hold too, Lyall?’ Steph asked,

‘Oh, no thanks, maybe later,’ said Lyall. ‘I like babies but, like, babies don’t really like me. I’m kind of better with cats and dogs.’

‘Ooooh yeah, Lyall’s
reeeeeally
good with dogs. Yes siree,’ said Saskia, knowing that she was safe from getting a punch from Lyall while she was holding a baby.

‘That reminds me, Lyall,’ said Carl. ‘You did return Ritchie’s Crocs today didn’t you?’

‘Kind of,’ answered Lyall.

‘
Kind of!
It was a simple question Lyall. You either put them back or you didn’t. Now, which is it?’

‘We need this whole thing resolved by Saturday,’ Mum said. ‘Ritchie’s coming to the working bee. Oh, and Kara called to say she was coming too, which is great.’

‘Kara doesn’t even
like
gardening,’ I said, before I remembered how sometimes people
pretend
to like things when they’re trying to impress someone.‘

Steph was looking as if she’d missed a couple of key episodes of her favourite soap opera.

‘Sorry, Steph,’ said Mum. ‘We’re expanding the vegetable garden to include community plots, and our action group is coming on Saturday to implement Stage One.’

‘What a great idea,’ said Steph.

‘Thanks,’ continued Carl. ‘Our ultimate goal is eventually to have zero carbon emissions. The solar’s underway, and we’ve got room for a small wind turbine too.’

‘Anyway, enough about us. How did things go for you today, Steph?’ asked Mum.

‘I was perfectly spoilt and even got an afternoon nap,’ said Steph, not even mentioning the dog fight.

By eight-thirty
on Saturday morning the people from Mum and Carls’ action group had started to arrive. From up in my turret room I could see everything going on. Carl had pegged out a whole area of lawn that had to be mulched over and turned into vegetable plots, and there was lots of wood and stakes and piles of soil to start making raised garden beds. Kara was blowing into her hands to warm them up. She was wearing the most inappropriate pair of wedge-heeled trainers you’ve ever seen at a working bee. I saw Mum saying something to her, and because I can often tell the sort of things that go on in Mum’s head, I’m sure she was saying something like,
If you want to borrow some gumboots, Kara, we may be about the same size.
And then I imagined Ritchie thinking that Kara Bleakly might be the
perfect candidate for a pair of Crocs. By the end of the day, Ritchie’s Crocs would have mysteriously reappeared. Was Kara going to find out the real truth about Ritchie and dump him?

I had to get my bowl of rose petals, so I snuck out the front door to avoid having to answer a whole lot of adult questions about how old I am and whether or not I enjoy school. I mean, why can’t adults talk about anything interesting, like where exactly a person goes when they die and whether or not it’s possible to communicate with spirits.

When Saskia and Lyall finally came downstairs I had already bottled my flower-essence remedy and was making a tag for it with some stamps I’d got for Christmas.

Lyall poured himself some cereal as if he was on auto pilot. ‘I’m so going to be hiding from Dad today,’ he crunched. ‘Otherwise we’ll have to help in the garden.’

‘You’re meant to
want
to help, Lyall,’ said Saskia, buttering her toast, and I’m sure he would have punched her in the arm if he hadn’t been still so half asleep.

‘Oh, we’ll be hiding all right,’ I said. ‘In the dining room, having a seance. Right after we get back from Ritchie’s.’

‘What if I actually don’t want to join in?’ said Saskia, with a mouth full of toast.

‘Don’t then,’ I said, thinking I’d try Reverse Psychology just one last time. ‘You can keep watch.’

Woolfie and Sophia must have recognised our voices because by the time we opened Ritchie’s gate the two of them were barking their heads off.

‘
Shhhhh,
you two,’ I said, and instantly the barking-fest turned into a licking-and-tail-wagging-fest as we all squeezed through the gate. ‘Saskia, can you grab the leashes,’ I said, holding Sophia by her collar. ‘They’re up on the meter box near the front door.’ Woolfie ran after her.

That’s when I noticed what Lyall was up to. He had taken Ritchie’s green Crocs out of his backpack and was rubbing them in a patch of dirt. I gave him
the eyebrow.

‘It’s got to look like they’ve been buried and dug up again,’ said Lyall. Woolfie gave Lyall a suspicious look.

‘Sorry, Woolfie,’ said Lyall. He put one shoe on the front doormat and left the other one face down, partly buried under Ritchie’s lemon tree. ‘That should do it,’ he said.

‘Now we’ve just got to stop Dad getting a new pair,’ said Saskia.

‘Or Ritchie buying a pair for Kara,’ I added.

‘That’s okay,’ Lyall said. ‘I’ll just remind Dad and Ritchie that we live in a world dominated by consumerism and that they really shouldn’t be adding to it by creating the demand for two more pairs of Crocs.’