Mollie Cinnamon Is Not a Cupcake (6 page)

I shut the lid of the laptop and fix my eyes on the photograph of Audrey Hepburn. She was sent to boarding school at five and her dad left the family when she was six. She didn’t exactly have it easy either.

“Did you have a flaky mum too, Audrey?” I ask her smiling face.

The moon is shining in through my window and I get up to close the curtains. I stare outside for a moment, feeling utterly miserable. I can see the harbour and the roof of Alanna’s cafe just below me. There’s a tiny pinprick of light flying through the velvety sky just above the building. It’s a shooting star!

“Make a wish, child,” Granny Ellen told me once when we saw one. I make my second wish since I came to the island. But it’s the same one.
Take me home, shooting star. Please take me home
.

A little later I’m in bed, trying to get to sleep, when I hear someone creep into my room.

“Mollie?” Nan whispers. “Are you awake?”

I don’t want to talk to her, so I pretend to be asleep.

“May St Brigid keep you safe, child,” she says softly. There’s a slight rustling above my head and then she leaves the room, closing the door softly behind her.

I open my eyes and sit up. A sliver of moonlight is shining in through the crack between my curtains and I can just make out a tiny doll tied to the metal bedhead. The straw doll that grants wishes. I lie back down and press my head into the pillow. I’ll need more than a straw doll to keep me safe, particularly with Lauren around. Weeks and weeks stuck here with no friends and nothing to do. I can’t bear it.

On Sunday afternoon I’m sitting in the alcove off the kitchen, flicking through one of Nan’s cookery books. I didn’t sleep well again last night. I had a dream about getting lost in a crowded airport. I was tiny and everyone else was huge. I asked for help, but no one could understand me. It was a very strange dream. I woke up at four and couldn’t get back to sleep again, so I just lay there, tossing and turning.

“Hi, Mollie. Is Nan here?” I jump and the book clatters to the ground.

It’s Alanna.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” She bounces towards me and I can hardly take my eyes off her. She’s wearing a moss-green jumper dress with a canary-yellow sleeveless puffa jacket thrown over the top. Her hair is tucked under a woolly Aran bobble hat. On anyone else the outfit would be ridiculous, but on Alanna it looks great.

“That’s OK.” I duck my head and pick up the book.

“Nice stripy mittens, by the way. Where did you get them?”

“My granny knitted them for me.” I stroke the soft, fluffy wool with my fingertips. They were my birthday present the year I turned eight. I loved them so much she made me a second pair in case I ever lost the first. They’re fingerless, so I can wear them all the time, even indoors.

“Magic.” Alanna leans over and reads the title of the book. “
The Hummingbird Bakery Cookbook
.” She smiles. “Do you like baking?”

“Sometimes.”

“Any time you’d like to help out in the cafe, you’re more than welcome. Sunny works in the kitchen a couple of times a week. She’s there now, in fact, with her mum. They’re keeping an eye on the place for me. I can’t pay much, but you can eat as many cupcakes as you like.”

I’m suddenly shy and slightly in awe of her. “Thanks,” I say. “I’ll think about it. But isn’t the cafe closing or something?”

“Where did you hear that?” Alanna’s face has gone pale, making faint freckles on her cheeks stand out.

I shrug. I don’t want to admit that I was eavesdropping on Alanna’s conversation with Nan.

Luckily she doesn’t push for an answer.

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” she says. “I’m doing everything I can to keep it open. I took out a big loan to pay for the conservatory, you see, and I’m having trouble paying it back. But I will. I just need more time.”

“Can’t your mum and dad help?”

“No. They’re … they’re not around.”

There’s an awkward silence.

“Nan?” Alanna reminds me. “Is she here?”

“Oh, sorry, she’s gone over to the Cotters’ house to borrow one of Lauren’s school skirts for me. I have to start at Bethlehem Heights tomorrow.”

“I bet you’re delighted about having to wear one of Lauren’s hand-me-downs,” Alanna says, rolling her eyes.

I laugh. “Tell me about it. Nan offered to buy me a uniform, but it would be a waste. I won’t be here long.”

“You’re off to join your mum soon, aren’t you? Paris, right?”

“Yes,” I say firmly. “Paris.”

“Well, you won’t see Nan for a while if she’s at the Cotters’. Nora, Lauren’s mum, loves a good gossip. She has quite the sharp tongue, too. Lauren takes after her, unfortunately. But Landy’s a pet. He’s Lauren’s twin brother. Have you met him yet?”

Landy. So that’s what the boy from the castle is called. “I bumped into him last night.” I don’t tell her the details – running away from Nan’s
and
getting caught hitting the castle by Landy – it’s all too embarrassing.

“Stick with him tomorrow,” she says. “And pay no attention to Lauren. Her bark’s worse than her bite. Same with Chloe. Bonny’s sweet. I just wish she didn’t hang on Lauren’s every word. Now I’d better get back to the cafe. Tell Nan I stopped by to drop this off.” She pulls a brown envelope out of her pocket and places it on the desk. “Only a boring bank statement, I’m afraid.” She gives a fake yawn. “Oh, and I nearly forgot. This is for you.” She hands me a small dark blue bottle.

The glass is cool against my skin. “What is it?”

She smiles, her eyes all warm and kind. “Put a few drops on your pillow before you go to bed. It will help you sleep.”

How does she know I’ve been having trouble sleeping?

“Does it really work?” I ask.

“My grandmother’s remedies always work. Now, I have to skedaddle. Valentine’s Day is only a hop and a skip away and I have primrose to pick for a potion. Don’t be a stranger now, promise?”

After she’s gone, the whole room seems flatter. I wish she was still here.

Curious, I twist the small gold cap off the bottle she gave me and sniff. I’m instantly hit by the scent of apples, lemon and freshly cut grass. I breathe in again, and it makes my nose tingle. I give a huge yawn. Maybe Alanna’s strange potion really can help me sleep better. But it’s probably just the power of suggestion. Another huge yawn makes my jaw crack and I put the cap back on. If only Alanna could make me another special remedy – to make me feel less lonely. But I guess that’s impossible.

On Monday morning, I wish I’d taken Nan up on her offer to buy me a new school uniform. I’m sitting in the car in the hand-me-downs that Nan brought back from Lauren’s yesterday. I’m not into minis, and this scratchy beetroot-coloured skirt is more like a belt. It’s so short that the equally beetroot jumper almost covers it. I’m also wearing a white school shirt that’s a bit too tight for me: one of Chloe’s cast-offs. I’ve never worn a full uniform before – my current school has a dark green hoodie with a crest on it, but that’s it – and it makes me feel strange and uncomfortable.

I’ve been to lots of different schools. Flora never likes to stay in one place for too long. Granny Ellen used to say she had “itchy feet”. It means I have to leave friends behind and make new ones. I’m used to it by now, though. I remind myself that the first day is always horrible, but then it gets easier.

“Stop pulling at your skirt, Mollie,” Nan says. “It’ll be fine. All the girls wear them short, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Apart from my stick-insect legs,” I say. “Thank goodness it’s only for two months. And I have Paris to look forward to. As soon as Flora gets my email I’m sure she’ll sort things out.” I still haven’t heard back from her, but maybe she’s somewhere they don’t have Internet or mobile reception. Or maybe she’s too busy to answer me. I couldn’t stop thinking about it yesterday. She has to make the TV people change their minds about Paris.

“I hope she does, child,” Nan says. “But for now you’ll be attending Bethlehem Heights, so best make the most of it. Better get going − the ferry’s waiting. Shall I stay with you or—?”

“No, I’ll be fine.” I grab my rucksack from the footwell, open the passenger door and jump out.

“Don’t forget your jacket, child,” she calls.

I hear sniggers behind me. Lauren, Chloe and Bonny are standing by the harbour wall, watching me. Nan was right − their skirts are almost non-existent.

“Hi, Nan,” Lauren simpers. “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of Mollie, won’t we, girls?”

“Well then, I’ll leave Mollie in your capable hands, Lauren,” Nan says, getting out of the car and moving towards me as if she’s about to give me a hug or something. I step away quickly and she gives me a wave before getting back into the car.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you said in the cafe,” Lauren says as soon as Nan’s gone. “It’s not on, you know, slagging off the island. You think you’re so cool just because you’re from Dublin. Who cares about stupid Dublin? It’s smelly and noisy, and Mum says most people in Dublin would move if they could.”

“To New York or Paris,” I say. “Not to a snoresville island in the middle of nowhere.”

Lauren jabs a finger in my chest. “Just watch it, understand? There’ll be no Nan or Alanna to look after you today.”

I sit as far away as I can from Lauren and her cronies on the ferry. Unfortunately, that means sitting near Landy. He nods at me and says, “Hi, Mollie Cinnamon,” with that annoyingly smug smile on his face again.

I scowl at him. The truth is, I’m feeling a bit shaken after what Lauren has just said to me.

“It’s like that, is it, city girl?” he says, turning away. “I’m just trying to be friendly.” He sticks his headphones over his ears, leans his head back against the cabin wall and closes his eyes.

While Lauren and Chloe are looking at something on Chloe’s iPhone, Bonny shuffles along the red plastic seats to sit beside me.

“You all right?” she whispers. “Lauren didn’t scare you, did she?”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t mind her − she’s jealous. She’d love to live in Dublin. And Landy’s a good guy. He just likes winding people up.”

“What are you doing over there, Bonny?” Lauren shouts across. “You need to see this giggling baby. It’s so funny.”

“See you later, Mollie.” Bonny jumps up and rejoins Lauren and Chloe, leaving me all on my own again.

The teachers at Bethlehem Heights seem decent enough. The year head, Miss McKennedy, is also our science teacher, and she tries to make me feel welcome by finding me a place to sit beside Bonny. Landy’s pretty much ignoring me. I can’t really blame him after the way I behaved on the ferry. At least Bonny is friendly when Lauren and Chloe aren’t around.

We have English and geography before morning break. I’ve done some of the work we’re covering already, like how to write formal letters. Other things are new – oxbow lakes and other river stuff – but at least none of it is too hard. I keep thinking of what lessons I’d be doing back at home and wishing I was there. I’d be sitting beside Shannon and chatting when the teacher’s back was turned.

“How are you finding things so far?” Bonny asks me as the class files outside to take soil samples for biology.

“All right, I guess,” I say.

“Is it different to your school back home?”

I nod. “Mine’s a lot bigger, for starters. We have four classes in every year, and it’s a new building, so the classrooms are a lot brighter.” Bethlehem Heights has mustard walls with flaky damp patches, and dark brown carpet tiles. Plus, all the windows are dripping with condensation.

“Lauren says your mum’s on the telly. Is that true?” she asks. “Is she really famous?”

“There you are, Bonny.” It’s Lauren. Bonny immediately moves further away from me. “She’s not famous,” Lauren says. “She’s only a weather girl. It’s hardly Hollywood. Chloe, find that clip of Mollie’s mum on YouTube. It’s so funny.”

I feel my cheeks heat up. I can guess which clip she means. Flora made one silly mistake, years ago – and, yes, I guess it is kind of funny – but trust them to find it!

Chloe holds up her iPhone and plays the video. In it, Flora mistakes the coast of Norway for Italy. It was one of her first days forecasting, she was very nervous and, to be honest, she’s never been all that good at geography.

Bonny just laughs. “That is funny. And I recognize her – Flora Cinnamon, right?”

It gives me the confidence to say that Flora’s presenting a travel show now.

“Oh, la-di-da,” Lauren says. “A travel show − big deal.”

I ignore her.

“You look like your mum,” Bonny says. “You have the same eyes. It’s just the hair that’s different.” She’s right − our hair couldn’t be more different. Flora’s hair is poker-straight while mine is super wavy.