The Bed and Breakfast Star (22 page)

Then little Pippa piped up.

‘Yes, my sister Elsa’s ever so big and brave. She rescued my baby!’

‘She rescued the baby?’ said the reporters, looking at Hank.

‘Yep, she went and got him out of his cot. I was crying and crying because I thought he’d get all burnt up and Dad and Mum wouldn’t let me go back for him—’

‘They wouldn’t go back for the
baby?’
said the reporters, their eyes swivelling from Hank to Mum and Mack.

‘Not
our
baby. It’s just Pippa’s pillow. She calls it her baby,’ said Mum quickly. Then she realized the cameras were aiming at her, and she clutched her nightie with one hand and did her best to tidy her hair with the other. ‘Don’t worry, we made sure we had our baby Hank safe and sound. But certainly if it hadn’t been for our Elsa then we could still be in our beds right this minute – charred to cinders,’ said Mum dramatically.

‘Yes, Elsa banged on our door and woke us all up. We’d be dead if it wasn’t for her. She rescued all of us,’ said Naomi’s mum. ‘Me and all
my
babies,’ she said, showing them off to the camera.

‘Elsa’s my best friend,’ said Naomi, nodding her head so that her plaits jiggled.

‘Elsa’s
my
best friend too and she rescued us and all,’ said Funny-Face, and then he pulled the funniest face he could manage, all cross-eyes and drooly mouth until his mum gave him a poke.

My mum was giving me a poke too.

‘Come on then, pet. Haven’t you got anything to say for yourself? All these nice gentlemen want you to say a few words about the fire. Come on, lovie, this is your big chance,’ Mum hissed.

I knew it. I swallowed. I wet my lips. I took a deep breath.

‘Fire,’ I mumbled. It was as if my voice could still only say one thing. I concentrated fiercely, trying to gain control. Fire crackled through my thoughts. My brain suddenly glowed.

‘Do you know what happened to the plastic surgeon who got too close to the fire?’ I said, in almost my own voice.

‘What plastic surgeon? There was a medical man in there? Did he get out OK?’ the reporters clamoured.

‘He melted!’ I said, and fell about laughing.

They blinked at me, missing a beat.

I decided to forge right ahead like a true professional.

‘What were the two Spanish firemen called?’

‘We haven’t got any Spaniards in our team,’ said one of the firemen, wiping the sweat from his brow and replacing his helmet.

‘OK, but what would they be called? Hosé and Hose B! Do you get it?’

He didn’t look very sure. Mum gave me a violent nudge.

‘Elsa, stop telling those silly
jokes
!’ But once I got started I couldn’t ever seem to stop.

‘Why did the fireman wear red trousers?’ I paused for a fraction. Everyone was still staring at me oddly. ‘His blue ones were at the cleaners!’

‘Pack it in, Elsa,’ Mack hissed, looking like he wasn’t so sure he wanted me to be his wee Elsa after all.

‘It’s the shock,’ said Mum firmly. ‘She’s just having a funny five minutes.’

‘Only she’s not being flipping funny,’ said Mack.

‘Yep, I think we’d better cut the jokes,’ said the television man gently.

‘I’ll try harder,’ I said desperately. ‘I’ll try a new set of jokes, OK? Or I could put on a silly voice . . . ?’

‘Why not use your own voice, Elsa? And why do you have to try so hard? Just be yourself. Act natural,’ said the television man, chucking me under the chin. ‘Let’s start again, hmm? Tell us in your own words exactly what happened.’

‘But if I just say any old thing, without any jokes, then I’m not funny,’ I wailed.

‘Who says you’ve got to be funny?’

‘Well, I want to be a comedienne and get to be famous.’

‘You don’t have to be funny to be famous. And we don’t really want people chortling when this goes out on the news. We want to touch the heart. We’ve got a super story here. You’re a great little kid, Elsa. You’ll come over really well on television if you just
relax
.’

‘It’s kind of difficult to act relaxed when you’re standing on the pavement in your T-shirt and knickers and a whole bunch of strangers are asking you questions,’ I said, sighing.

I wasn’t trying to be funny. But the weirdest thing happened. Everyone chuckled appreciatively.

‘So what happened, Elsa? You woke up in the middle of the night and . . . ?’

And so I started to tell them exactly what happened. I said I thought the smell was someone cooking chips and I started – to get peckish and slipped out of bed to go and beg a few chips for myself. (They laughed again.) Then I told about tripping over Pippa’s My Little Pony. (More laughter – and I still hadn’t told a single joke!) Then I went on about the fire and dashing up and down the corridor banging on the doors and yelling. (I waited for them to laugh again, but this time they listened spellbound.) The television man asked what I’d yelled and I said ‘Fire’ and he said that wasn’t very loud and
I
said well, I did it a lot louder. And he said show us. So I did. I threw back my head and roared.

‘F-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-R-E!!!’

That nearly blew them all backwards. Most people had their hands over their ears. Some shook their heads, dazed. Then someone laughed. They all joined in. Someone else cheered. Someone else did too. Lots of cheers. For me. FOR ME!

It really was my Moment of Fame. I hadn’t blown it after all.

My interview went out on the television. I thought I sounded sort of stupid, but everyone else said it went splendidly. (Well, Mum moaned because her hair was a sight and she didn’t have any make-up on, and Mack fussed because they’d cut out most of his bits and he was only shown from the waist up so no-one could see his great hairy legs.) But they didn’t cut
any
of my bits.

I might not have made it into the
Children in Crisis
documentary. But guess what. My news interview was repeated later in the year in a special compilation programme called
Children of Courage.
And I got to do another interview with a nice blonde lady with big teeth, and Mum spent some of Mack’s betting money on a beautiful new outfit from the Flowerfields Shopping Centre for my special telly appearance. Mum made me try on lots of frilly frocks but they all looked
awful.