The Bed and Breakfast Star (10 page)

‘Can I have a marshmallow?’ said Pippa.

‘When she woke up her pillow had disappeared!’

Mum didn’t move. But Mack did.

‘I’m warning you, Elsa. Just one more of your stupid jokes and you’re for it!’

‘Dad, can I have some biscuits or some sweets or something? I’m hungry,’ Pippa whined.

‘OK, OK.’ Mack fumbled in his pocket for change. ‘Take her down to that shop on the corner, Elsa. Here.’

‘What do Eskimos use for money? Ice lolly!’

‘I thought I told you. NO MORE JOKES!’

‘OK, OK.’ I grabbed Pippa and scooted out the room.

‘Why are adults boring?’ I asked her, as we went down the stairs. ‘Because they’re groanups.’

I roared with laughter. I’m not altogether sure Pippa understood, but she laughed too to keep me company. The big bunny lady in reception put her pointy finger to her lips and went ‘Sh! Sh!’ at us.

‘She sounds like a train,’ I said to Pippa. ‘Hey, what do you call a train full of toffee?’

‘Oh, toffee! Are you buying toffee? I like toffee too.’

‘No, Pippa, you’re not concentrating. What do you call a train full of toffee? A chew-chew train.’

Pippa blinked up at me blankly. I laughed. She laughed too, but she was just copying me like she always does. I wished she was old enough to appreciate my jokes. I longed to try them all out on Naomi, but she was at school.

That was one of the advantages of going to live at the O Yal Htl. I couldn’t go to my old school because it was miles and miles away. No-one had said anything about going to any other school. I certainly wasn’t going to bring the subject up.

I took hold of Pippa’s hand and we went out of the hotel and down the road to where there was this one shop selling sweets and ciggies and papers and videos – all the things you need.

Some of the boys from the hotel were mucking around at the video stands, whizzing them round too fast and acting out bits from the films. One of them lunged at me with his hands all pointy, pretending to be Freddie from Elm Street.

‘Ooooh, I’m so fwightened,’ I said, sighing heavily. ‘What are you lot doing here, anyway? Are you bunking off from school?’

They shuffled a bit so I was obviously right.

‘Don’t you tell on us or you’ll get it, see,’ said another, trying to act dead tough.

‘Don’t worry.
I
don’t tell tales,’ I said, looking witheringly at the funny-face boy who had told on me.

He shuffled a bit more, his face going red.

‘Yeah, well, I didn’t think your dad would get mad at you like that,’ he said quickly.

‘He’s not my dad. He’s just my mum’s bloke, that’s all.’

‘Did he hit you? We heard you yelling.’

‘You’d yell if he was laying into you.’

‘Here. Have this,’ said the funny-face boy, and he handed me his big black magic-marker pen, the one I’d used to correct his spelling to write the truly worst word ever.

‘Hey, are you giving this to me?’ I said.

‘Yeah, if you want.’

‘You bet I want! My own black felt-tip’s run out. Hey, what goes black and white, black and white, black and white?’

‘Hmm?’ he said, looking blank.

But one of his mates spoilt it.

‘A nun rolling down a hill,’ he said, grinning. ‘That’s an
old
joke.’

‘OK, OK, what’s black and white and goes ha-ha?’

I paused. This time I’d got them.

‘The nun that pushed her!’

Funny-face suddenly snorted with laughter. The others all sniggered too. Laughing at my joke! I’d have happily stood there cracking jokes all day but the man behind the counter started to get narked so the boys sloped off while Pippa and I chose our sweets. It took a long time, especially as Pippa kept chopping and changing. Once or twice she changed her mind
after
she’d had a little experimental lick of a liquorice bootlace or a red jelly spider, but the man behind the counter couldn’t see down far enough to spot her.

We ended up with:

We ate them on the way back to the hotel. We weren’t in any hurry to get back. Mack had been so grouchy recently he’d even got mad at Pippa.

I meant to save a chocolate bar for Naomi, and a toffee chew or two for her brothers, but I seemed to get ever so hungry somehow, and by the time Naomi got back from school there were just a few dolly mixtures left (and they were a bit dusty and sticky because Pippa had been ‘feeding’ them to Baby Pillow half the afternoon).

‘Never mind, I’ll give them a little wash under the tap,’ said Naomi, going into the Ladies.

We ended up with:

She and I scrunched up together on the windowsill, feet propped on the basin, and we read the worst bits of her Cursed Werewolf book and got the giggles. My Pippa and her Nicky and Neil and Nathan kept on plaguing us so we filled the other basins with water and hauled them up so they could have a little paddle. They were only meant to dangle their feet. They dangled quite a bit more.

I was scared I’d get into trouble with Mum and Mack for getting Pippa soaked, but luckily Mum didn’t notice and Mack had gone out for a takeaway and taken Hank with him. Hank loves to go anywhere with Mack. He’s a really weird baby. He thinks his dad is great.

I think Mack is great too. A great big hairy warthog.

Pippa and Nicky and Neil and Nathan weren’t the only ones who got soaked when they went paddling in the basins. The floor in the Ladies turned into a sort of sea too. Naomi and I tried to mop it up a bit but we only had loo paper to do it with so we weren’t very successful.

Mrs Hoover had to mop it up properly and she wasn’t very pleased. I felt bad about it so the next day Pippa and I helped her with her hoovering. I’d got lumbered with Hank as well, but I tried hard to get him to flick a duster. He seemed determined to use it as a cuddle blanket but Mrs Hoover didn’t mind.

‘Oh, what a little sweetie! Bless him!’ she cooed.

‘Have you got some sweeties?’ Pippa asked hopefully.

‘You’re just like my little granddaughter, pet. Always on at her Nan for sweeties. Here you are, then.’ Mrs Hoover gave us both a fruit drop. Hank had to make do with chewing his duster, because he might swallow the fruit drop whole and choke.

‘Yum yum, I’ve got an orange. I nearly like them best. I like the red bestest of all,’ said Pippa hopefully.

I tutted at her but Mrs Hoover tittered.

‘You’re a greedy little madam,’ she said, handing over a raspberry drop too.

‘What do you say, Pippa, eh?’ I said.

‘Thank you ever so much Mrs Hoover.’

‘You what?’ said Mrs Hoover, because Mrs Hoover wasn’t her real name at all, it was just our name for her. Her real name was Mrs Macpherson but I didn’t like calling her that because it reminded me too much of my Mack Person. My least favourite person of all time.

He’d given me another smack because Pippa and I were playing hunt the magic marble in our room and I’d hidden it under the rug covering the torn part of the carpet. How was I to know that Mack would burst back from the betting shop and stomp across the rug and skid on the marble and go flying?

I couldn’t help laughing. He really did look hilarious. Especially when he landed bonk on his bum.

‘I’ll teach you not to laugh at me!’ he said, scrabbling up.

He did his best.

But I’ve had the last laugh. I sloped off into the Ladies all by myself and had a little fun with my new black magic-marker pen.