Authors: Alan MacDonald
By the time Angela joined them in the studio, Tiffany was posing for photos. She sat, beaming at the camera.
“That’s super,” said the photographer.
“Perfect,” said Melanie. “So, what do you like doing, Tiffany?”
“I like ballet!” sang Tiffany.
“Great, can you show us some steps?”
Tiffany jumped up and pointed her toes. She sprang in the air, spun round and landed gracefully.
Mrs Charmers clapped loudly. “Beautiful, darling!”
Angela had to hand it to her, Tiffany knew how to put on a show.
Then it was Angela’s turn.
“Remember, don’t slouch and don’t forget to smile,” whispered her mum.
Angela nodded. She sat up very straight and smiled her widest smile.
“Just try to relax,” said the photographer.
“I am relaxed,” said Angela, showing her teeth.
“Okay,” said Melanie. “What do you enjoy doing, Angela?”
“Loads of things,” said Angela. “Watching TV, playing with my friends, standing on my head…”
“You can stand on your head?”
“It’s easy!” said Angela, jumping up. She flipped over with her legs in the air. Her dress flopped over her head.
Mrs Nicely groaned and covered her eyes.
A few days later, a letter arrived in the post. Mrs Nicely opened it as she came into the kitchen.
“ARGHHHHHH!” she screamed. “You got it! Poppets want you to model for the catalogue!”
Angela jumped up and did a dance round the kitchen. To be honest, she was a bit surprised – what with the chocolate stains and everything – but maybe Poppets needed a model that could stand on their head…?
At last the day of the photo shoot came and a minibus arrived to collect them. The shoot was taking place at the seaside and Angela could hardly wait. The only bad news was that Tiffany was one of the other models.
As soon as they arrived, they were shown into a beach hut to change into
their outfits. Melanie took down a dress from the clothes rail. It was pink with a white lacy collar. Angela stared at it longingly.
“Let’s see,” said Melanie. “I think this one is for…”
Angela stood on tiptoe.
“…Tiffany!” said Melanie.
Angela threw up her hands. Why was it
always
Tiffany?
“And these are for you, Angela,” said Melanie. She handed over a pair of stripey dungaree shorts.
Tiffany put on the dress and twirled around, admiring herself in the mirror.
“What do you think, Angela?” she cooed.
Angela shrugged. “It’s okay.”
She frowned at herself in the mirror
as she buttoned up the dungarees. The stripes were bright red and green. She looked like a deckchair.
Tiffany giggled. “Oh Angela! They suit you!”
Angela scowled and stomped off to find her mum.
“Oh. Dungarees,” said Mrs Nicely. “Never mind, models have to wear what they’re given. Now remember,
don’t
get them dirty. No sweets or ice creams, just STAY PUT until you’re called.”
Angela sighed. Being a model wasn’t half as much fun as she’d thought. What was the point of coming to the seaside if you couldn’t go in the sea? The sun was out, the mums were having coffee and the other models were posing by the beach huts. Only Angela was STAYING PUT.
She looked round and spotted Tiffany standing on a towel to avoid getting sandy. Suddenly, an idea crept into Angela’s head. What if Tiffany got her precious dress dirty? Or wet?
Then
she’d
be the one in trouble for a change. It would serve her right for playing that sneaky chocolate trick.
“Aren’t you hot, Tiffany?” Angela asked, going over.
“I don’t mind,” said Tiffany.
Angela heaved a sigh. “I bet the sea’s lovely and cool.”
Tiffany shook her head. “We’re not allowed. Melanie said we have to stay on the beach.”
“We will,” said Angela, setting off towards the sea. “It’s all the beach.”
Tiffany glanced back at the others. It was very hot and the photos were taking ages. Besides, she was only going to take a look.
Down at the water, Angela started to take off her sandals.
“ANGELA! YOU CAN’T!” cried Tiffany.
“It’s okay. I’m only going for a paddle,” said Angela.
Tiffany watched enviously as Angela waded into the water.
“Come on! It’s lovely!” she called.
“But what about my dress?” wailed Tiffany.
“Hold it up!” said Angela.
Tiffany hung back. But the water did look tempting. And if anyone saw them she’d blame it on Angela. She took off her shoes and socks and hitched up her dress.
Angela waded out a little deeper and looked back. Tiffany was dipping her toes daintily in the shallows. She’d never get wet like that.
“COME ON!” cried Angela. “It’s not deep. Look!” She kicked her foot. Oops! Her dungarees had got a tiny bit wet. She’d better be careful…
KERSPLOSH!
Suddenly a giant wave swept right over her.
“UGH! OHHHHHH!” cried Angela, gasping for breath.
“OH, ANGELA!” Tiffany bent over, helpless with laughter.
But Angela didn’t see the funny side. She splodged out of the sea and stood on the sand, dripping like an ice-cream cone. This wasn’t supposed to happen! It was Tiffany who was meant to get wet!
Just then their mums came hurrying down the beach with Melanie.
“Tiffany! Darling! Are you all right?” panted Mrs Charmers.
“I’m fine,” said Tiffany. “It’s Angela!”
“ANGELA!” groaned Mrs Nicely.
“It wasn’t my fault,” cried Angela. “I only went for a paddle, but a big wave splooshed me!”
Mrs Nicely turned to Melanie. “I am so sorry,” she said.
Melanie shook her head. “Never mind, it can’t be helped. But she can’t be in the photos like that.”
Angela’s face fell. It had all turned out wrong. Now only Tiffany’s picture would be in the catalogue.
“Isn’t there anything else she could wear?” asked Mrs Nicely.
Melanie frowned. “There’s the mermaid costume,” she said.
“MERMAID COSTUME?” gasped Angela.
Ten minutes later Angela had changed into her new outfit. The photographer lined up the other models with Tiffany on the end. Then she got them to hold Angela. She was wearing a silver tail and a huge grin.
“Right then,” said the photographer. “Everyone shout ‘ICE CREAM!’”
“ICE CREAM!” they yelled.
CLICK!
Angela thought it was the best photo of them all – in fact, it ended up on the cover of Poppets’ catalogue!
Tiffany was furious. But as Angela said to her, “We can’t all be supermodels!”