Authors: Nick Sharratt
Contents
About the Book
Floss loves spending weekends with her dad in his greasy spoon cafe, even if it isn’t the smartest place in town. When Floss’s mum and her new husband Steve move to Australia, Floss decides to stay at home with Dad. He’s not much good at ironing or putting up swings, but they muddle along on a diet of chip butties and candyfloss from the local funfair. But then disaster strikes and they find themselves homeless. Will their new fairground friends help out? Could Dad and Floss be destined for a life on the road?
To Robbie and Callum
1
I HAD TWO
birthdays in one week.
My first birthday was on Friday. Mum and Steve woke me up singing ‘
Happy Birthday to you
’. They’d stuck candles in a big fat croissant and put a little paper umbrella and a cocktail stick of cherries in my orange juice.
My little half-brother Tiger came crawling into my bedroom too. He’s too tiny to sing but he made a loud
he-he-he
noise, sitting up on his padded bottom and clapping his hands. He’s really called Tim, but Tiger suits him better.
I blew out all my candles. Tiger cried when the flames went out, so we had to light them all again for him to huff and puff at.
I had my birthday breakfast in bed. Mum and Steve perched at the end, drinking coffee. Tiger went exploring under my bed and came out all fluffy, clutching one of my long-forgotten socks. He held it over his nose like a cuddle blanket,
while
Mum and Steve cooed at his cuteness.
Then I got to open my presents. They were wrapped up in shiny silver paper with big pink bows. I thought they looked so pretty I just wanted to hold them for a moment, smoothing the silver paper and fingering the bows, trying to guess what might be inside. But Tiger started ripping them himself, tearing all the paper and tangling the ribbon.
‘Tiger, stop it! They’re
my
presents, not yours,’ I said, trying to snatch them out of the way.
‘He’s just trying to help you unwrap them, Flossie,’ said Steve.
‘You need to get a bit of a move on, darling, or you’ll be late for school,’ said Mum.
Tiger said
He-he-he
. Or it
could
have been
Ha-ha-ha
, meaning
Ya-boo-sucks-to-you
.
So I lost my chance of savouring my five shiny silver presents. I opened them there and then. I’ll list them. (I
like
making lists!)
I left number 5 till last because it was big but soft and squashy, and I hoped it
might
be a cuddly animal (any kind, but not a tiger). He had torn off half the paper already, exposing two big brown ears and a long pointy nose. I delved inside and found two
tiny
brown ears and a weeny pointy nose. It was a mother kangaroo with a baby kangaroo in her pouch.
Tiger held out his hands, trying to snatch the baby out of the pouch.
‘No, Tiger, he wants to stay tucked in his mummy’s pocket,’ I said, holding them out of his reach.
Tiger roared.
‘Just let him play with the baby kanga a minute. He won’t do him any harm,’ said Steve, going off to the bathroom.
Steve talks a lot of rubbish sometimes. Tiger grabbed the baby kangaroo and shoved him straight in his mouth, ears, snout, his entire
head
.
‘Mum, Tiger’s
eating
him!’ I protested.
‘Don’t be silly, Floss. Hang on!’ Mum hooked her finger into Tiger’s bulging mouth and rescued the poor little baby kangaroo.
‘He’s all covered in Tiger’s slobber!’ I said.
‘Just wipe it on the duvet. Don’t be such a baby, Birthday Girl,’ said Mum, giving me a little poke. ‘Do you like your presents, Floss?’
‘Yes, I love them,’ I said, gathering them all up in my arms away from Tiger.
I supposed I loved my little half-brother, but I wished we could keep him in a cage like a real tiger.
‘There’s actually another extra present,’ said Mum. Her eyes were shining as brightly as my birthday candles. She raised her voice, shouting to Steve in the bathroom. ‘Shall I tell Floss now, Steve?’
‘OK, yeah, why not?’ he said, coming back into my bedroom, shaving soap all over his face.
He put a little blob of shaving soap on the tip of Tiger’s chin and pretended to shave him. Tiger screamed delightedly, rolling away from his dad. He wiped shaving soap all over my special cherry-patterned duvet. I rubbed at the slimy mark, sighing heavily.
‘So, OK, what’s my extra present?’ I asked warily.
I very much hoped Mum wasn’t going to announce she was going to have another baby. One Tiger was bad enough. Two would be truly terrible.
‘It’s a present for all of us. The best present ever, and it’s all due to Steve,’ said Mum. She was looking at him as if he was a Super Rock Star/Footballer for England/Total God, instead of a perfectly ordinary actually quite boring guy who picks his nose and scratches himself in rude places.
Steve smirked and flexed his muscles, striking a silly pose.
‘Steve’s got promotion at his work, Floss,’ said Mum. ‘He’s being made a manager – isn’t that incredible? There’s a sister company newly starting in Sydney and Steve’s been asked to set things up there. Isn’t that
great
?’
‘Yeah, I suppose. Well done, Steve,’ I said politely, not really taking it in at all. The stain on my duvet wasn’t budging.
‘
Sydney!
’ Mum said.
I blinked at her. I didn’t quite get the significance. Sydney was just an old-fashioned guy’s name.
‘She doesn’t have a clue where it is,’ said Steve, laughing. ‘Don’t they teach kids geography nowadays?’
Then I got it. ‘Sydney in Australia?’
Steve clapped me. He made Tiger clap his little pink fists too. Mum gave me a big big hug.
‘Isn’t it exciting, Floss! Think of all the
sunshine
! You just step out of the city and there you are, on a fabulous beach. Imagine!’
I
was
imagining. I saw us on a huge white beach, with kangaroos hopping across the sand and koalas climbing palm trees and lots of beautiful skinny ladies like Kylie Minogue swimming in the turquoise sea. I saw Mum and me paddling, hand in hand. I sent Steve way way out to sea on a surfboard. I stuck Tiger in a kangaroo’s pouch and sent them hopping far off into the bush.
‘It’s going to be so wonderful,’ said Mum, lying back on the bed, arms and legs outstretched, as if she was already sunbathing.
‘Yeah, wonderful,’ I echoed. ‘Wait till I tell Rhiannon and everyone at school!’ Then I paused. ‘What
about
school?’
‘Well, Steve reckons we’ll be in Sydney a good six months, though we’re not permanently emigrating. You’ll go to a lovely new Australian school while we’re out there, darling,’ said Mum. ‘It’ll be a fantastic experience for you.’
My heart started thumping. ‘But I won’t know anyone,’ I said.
‘You’ll soon make heaps of new friends,’ said Mum.
‘I like my
old
friends,’ I said.
Rhiannon and I had been best friends for almost
a
whole year. It’s the most wonderful thing in the world to be Rhiannon’s best friend because:
I loved Rhiannon to bits even though she could be a bit bossy at times. She generally told me what to do. But I didn’t really mind because mostly I just wanted to please her.
I tried to imagine this big new Australian school. I’d watched the soaps on television. I made the girls wear funny check dresses and smile a lot with their big white teeth. They all spoke together. ‘G’day, Flossie, can we be your friends?’ they chorused.
‘Well, I’d normally say yes. But I’m Rhiannon’s friend,’ I explained.
‘Hey, daydream Birthday Girl!’ said Mum, giving me a kiss. ‘I’m going to pop in the bathroom after Steve. Keep an eye on Tiger for me.’
You needed two eyes looking out for Tiger. Plus another pair at the back of your head.
I gathered up all my birthday presents and put them up on top of my bookshelf, out of his reach. I pictured myself wearing my new T-shirt and jeans and trainers, pulling my trolley-case, kangaroo under one arm, bouncing off to Australia. I saw how cleverly Mum had chosen my presents.
Then I looked at the stationery set. I fingered the writing paper and envelopes and the gel pens all the colours of the rainbow. Why would I be writing lots of letters?
Then my heart thumped harder. I dropped the stationery and the pens and ran to the bathroom. ‘Mum! Mum!’ I yelled.
‘What?’ Mum was larking around with Steve, splashing him like a little kid.
‘Mum, what about Dad?’ I said.
Mum peered at me. ‘I expect your dad will phone you tonight, Floss. And you’ll be seeing him on Saturday, same as always.’
‘Yes, I know. But what’s going to happen when we’re in Australia? I can still see him, can’t I?’
Mum’s brow wrinkled. ‘Oh, come on, Flossie, don’t be stupid. You can’t nip back from Australia every weekend, obviously.’
‘But I can go sometimes? Every month?’
‘I’m doing very nicely, thank you, but we’re not made of money, kiddo,’ said Steve. ‘It costs hundreds and hundreds of pounds for a flight.’