Mollie Cinnamon Is Not a Cupcake (9 page)

BOOK: Mollie Cinnamon Is Not a Cupcake
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As I’m leaving, Nan takes two large oat biscuits from a jar in the cupboard and wraps them in tinfoil. “Here. In case you get hungry. It’s a fine day − make the most of the light.”

“I will. Thanks, Nan.” I smile at her.

She smiles back. “It’s nice to see you looking so happy for a change. You have a beautiful smile, Mollie.”

As I walk down the lane, I think about Nan. She’s being really kind to me. She said I needed a quiet day yesterday so she let me have a big long lie-in. She brought me breakfast in bed and I lazed under my duvet until lunchtime, reading my movie-star book. In the afternoon it was really rainy, so we had a movie marathon and ate home-made popcorn. It was actually really good fun. We watched
The Wizard of Oz
(my choice) and then
The Sound of Music
(her choice), and finally
Back to the Future
after dinner (Nan suggested it and it was really good).

I guess I’m starting to get used to Nan and the island now. But I know I shouldn’t get too settled here. When Flora finishes filming, it will be back to my old life again. I hope Shannon won’t find a new best friend before I get home. She’s sounded really busy in the few texts she’s sent me, but then that’s nothing new. Shannon does more after-school activities than anyone I know.

Suddenly, a small brown bird flies across the lane and lands in the mud in front of me. It’s unusual looking, with black-and-white stripes on its head. I quickly turn on the camera and start to film him. As if he knows what I’m up to, he looks at me and starts chirping, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight. After a few seconds the bird flies away, but it’s a good start to my vlog: “A Diary of Little Bird Island: Day One.” A little bird on Little Bird − get it? I take out my Moleskine and write down some ideas for filming: “Island nature – birds, butterflies, insects”. Then I remember Click and jot down “Marine animals – fish and mammals”, which makes me think of the islanders – the people who live here now and famous islanders of the past.

That will be the hardest bit − people. I don’t exactly have many friends here apart from Alanna and Sunny, and I can hardly interview Sunny. Red Moll is the only famous islander I know of and interviewing her will also be rather difficult, unless her ghost appears! I’ll start with nature.

I walk on, keeping my eyes peeled for more birds. At the end of the lane I turn left, towards the harbour, and spy the same little bird again. He’s hopping along the top of the bush beside me.

“That’s a white-crowned sparrow,” a voice says.

Landy is strolling down the lane towards me. I instantly feel my cheeks hotting up. He’s one of the last people on earth I want to see right now.

“They’re pretty rare,” he adds when he reaches me. “Easy to spot with the zebra stripes.”

“You frightened him away,” I say angrily, to hide my embarrassment. “And what are you, some sort of bird expert?”

“No, but my dad’s a twitcher.”

“A what?”

“A birdwatcher. When he’s not working on the campsite or building things.”

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” I ask.

“I didn’t feel great this morning, but I’m OK now, so I’m going down to Alanna’s to help Dad. He’s a builder. He’s fixing up some of the cafe windows for her. Why are you filming birds?”

“I just am. Can’t you all leave me alone? I’m sorry I’m not from here, OK? But I haven’t done anything wrong, whatever Lauren says.”

Landy looks at me for a second, as if weighing something up. “Did you really push her?”

“No! I told her to stop being mean about my mum and then she pushed
me
. I grabbed her to stop myself falling. It was an accident.”

“I knew there was something odd about her story. Mum swallowed it, but I’m well used to my darling sister’s lies. She’s always getting me into trouble at home. Drives me mad.” He looks down and kicks a stone into the bushes. “Hey, I’m sorry about the whole Bonny thing. I told her you didn’t say anything about her dad. I was sitting right behind you and Lauren in French and I know you didn’t say a word to Lauren.”

“Did Bonny believe you?”

“I think so. And I told my folks about Lauren picking on you. She’s not exactly speaking to me at the moment.”

“You must be devastated,” I say. “What a loss.”

He grins. “Yeah, I know.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“It’s about time someone stood up to Lauren. She gets away with murder.”

“Do your parents always believe her?”

“Mum usually takes her side, all right, but Dad sees through her sometimes.” He shrugs. “Hey, that’s families for you, right?”

“Sure,” I say, although to be honest, I don’t know all that much about family dynamics as it’s just me and Flora.

“Anyway, you never answered my question,” he says. “What’s with the camera?”

“I’m making a short movie about the island.”

“Cool. I like movies.”

“Let me guess. Action and adventure movies. James Bond. Car chases and guns.”

“Sure. But I watch other things too.”

“Favourite film?”

“Is this a test?”

“Maybe.”

He thinks for a second.
“The Empire Strikes Back.”

I try not to look impressed. It’s definitely the best of the
Star Wars
movies − dark and moody. It’s the one where Luke finds out who his father really is.

“Yours?” he asks.

“Honestly?”

He tilts his head. “It can’t be that bad.”

“It’s
The Wizard of Oz
,” I admit.

He gives that annoying knowing smile of his.

“What?” I demand.

“Nothing. So is this movie you’re making a musical with dancing scarecrows and flying monkeys?”

“Ha ha. Very funny.”

Our conversation is interrupted by a loud rumbling noise.

“What is that?” I ask, alarmed.

“Dad,” Landy says simply.

I start to feel nervous. I know Landy said his dad sees through Lauren sometimes, but she’s still his daughter. As if reading my thoughts, Landy says, “Don’t worry. I’ll have a word with him about the Lauren thing.”

Just then, a mud-splattered navy Land Rover jeep appears on the road, beeps its horn and pulls up beside us. A man with long sandy-brown hair tied back in a ponytail is sitting behind the wheel. He has Landy’s pale grey eyes.

“Do you want a lift to Alanna’s?” Landy’s dad asks him through the open window.

“Sure,” Landy says. He turns to me. “Would you like to come with us? You could help us sand down the windows.”

“OK.” Helping at the cafe is on my job list after all.

“Is that all right, Dad?” Landy asks him. “Can Mollie join us?”

The man looks at me for a long second. “Are you Mollie Cinnamon?” he asks me. “Nan’s girl?”

I nod nervously.

Landy leans in through the window to talk to his dad, and I stand back. After a while the man nods at Landy and looks over at me. He smiles this time.

“Let’s start again, Mollie,” he says. “I’m Bat Cotter, Landy’s old man. I have no idea what went on in school, but from what Landy’s saying Lauren was to blame. Is that right?”

I think about my answer for a second. I may not like Lauren, but I’m no telltale.

“It was both our faults,” I say. “We had a bit of an argument and it got out of hand.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

I nod firmly. “Yes.”

“Fair enough. Thanks for telling me the truth. And you’re welcome to join us. Landy’s right − we could do with another pair of hands.”

Landy is staring at me, but I avoid his gaze.

“Want to ride on top, Mollie?” Bat says, jabbing his thumb towards the roof of the jeep. There’s a framework of bars up there, like a large roof rack. “Great way to see the island.”

“Isn’t that a bit dangerous?” I ask.

“Don’t be such a chicken,” Landy says. “This old jeep doesn’t exactly go very fast and we’re only going down the road. It’ll be fun.”

Landy climbs up the small ladder attached to the back of the Land Rover as if he’s been doing it his whole life, which he probably has. He hangs over the roof bars and offers me his hand.

“Come on, Mollser,” he says. “It’s just a ladder.”

I’m about to frown at him for calling me that, but then I realize I quite like it. “A very small ladder,” I point out. I hold onto the bars of the ladder and slowly make my way up towards him. Near the top, I take his hand and he helps me onto the roof. He’s really strong.

“You need to sit down there, on one of the bars,” Landy says. “Don’t sit on the roof. It’ll buckle. I’ll sit close behind you, just in case.”

I nod and do as he says. He crouches down behind me, which makes me feel safer.

“Ready up there?” Bat shouts out of his window. “You looking after Mollie, Landy?”

“Yes, sir!” Landy shouts back and he bangs twice on the roof of the jeep. And then we’re off. At first I’m terrified. The Land Rover judders over potholes in the lane, lurching from side to side, and I hold on for dear life, my whole body tense with fright. I watch out for dips in the lane so I can be ready. But after a few minutes, I start to get used to the rhythm and I allow myself to look around.

I can see over all the hedges and past the patchwork of green fields towards the petrol-blue sea of Dolphin Bay. It’s stunning, like a photo you’d see on a postcard. I hadn’t realized how beautiful the island is until now.

“Whee!” I cry, as the air rushes past me. I arch my back and pretend to be a bird. “I’m flying!”

Everything seems to freeze in brilliant technicolour and there’s just me and this gorgeous landscape and the wind blowing in my face. And I wouldn’t be anywhere else in the whole wide world.

“You didn’t have to say that to Dad − about it being partly your fault.” Landy stops sandpapering the cafe’s window frame and looks at me. “Lauren wouldn’t have done that for you, you know. You’re a very interesting girl, Mollie Cinnamon.”

“Thank you. I think.” I’m not quite sure what he means by “interesting”, but I hope it’s a compliment.

“How are you and Nan getting on?” he asks.

I fiddle with my piece of sandpaper for a second, finding a fresh corner that isn’t covered in paint. Landy showed me how to rub the paper along the grain, taking the rough old bits of colour off the window jamb, so that his dad can paint them. Alanna was thrilled that I’d come to help. She gave me a huge smile, which made me feel really light inside.

“We’re actually getting on pretty well,” I say. And it’s true − we really are. “Telling her about, you know, the school stuff helped a lot.”

Landy’s eyes go dark grey, like a stormy sky. “If Lauren says anything to you again, tell me about it, OK? I know you don’t need my help, but just in case.”

“Thanks.” I smile to myself. I think I’ve made a new friend. Shannon will tease me about being friends with a boy, but that’s all right. I don’t feel so lonely any more. Maybe things aren’t so bad after all.

Chapter 11

When I get back to Summer Cottage, I’m dying to email Flora and tell her all about Landy and the cafe and the fun I had helping out today. I took some footage of Landy and Bat standing on the jeep, painting the top of the window frames. When they realized I was filming them, they both started doing this really silly dance, swaying from side to side and doing crazy air guitar and leg kicks. Bat was laughing so much he nearly fell off the jeep.

After dinner I go upstairs with the laptop. There’s an email waiting for me from Flora.

Sent: Wednesday 6 February 23:06

From:
[email protected]

To:
[email protected]

Subject: Exciting news about NEWS!

Dear Mollie Mops,

I miss you so much, my darling. I can’t wait to see you again. I wish you were here with me. I’d love to show you all the cool things I’ve seen. I’m having SO much fun!

Today we climbed the Sydney Harbour Bridge. We had to go up ladders and catwalks, and I did a short piece to camera from the very top of the bridge – although it was pretty windy up there and I’m not sure how much you’ll be able to hear. Just as well I’m not afraid of heights, unlike Fintan, the sound man. He froze halfway up one of the ladders until Lucas talked him down again. Julian had to take over the sound equipment. Luckily he doesn’t mind heights at all. He loves danger. He’s been skydiving and everything. He’s offered to take me one day – which would be amazing! You’ll adore Julian, Mopsy. He’s wonderfully funny and so interesting. He knows loads of rock stars and models. He’s even promised to introduce me to Bono – imagine!

Tomorrow we’re off to Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park to check out some Aboriginal rock engravings of sharks and whales. Then once it’s dark we’re heading to Centennial Park to film golden brushtail possums – they’re very rare and they only come out at night. Cool, eh?

And of course we have to film the Sydney Opera House. The building is just as amazing as it looks in photographs − like the huge white petals of some exotic flower opening up. Apparently the guy who designed it, Jørn Utzon, thought of the roof design while he was peeling an orange. They do look like the segments of an orange, all right.

Anyway, enough about me. Nan told me about what was going on at school and I’m sorry that one of the girls was picking on you. It’s probably best that you don’t go back. But do keep up with your studies. You’re so bright, Mollie Mops, and I don’t want you to fall behind.

I hope you’re settling in with Nan on Little Bird. I know the islanders can be funny sometimes. They tend to stick together and can be suspicious of new people, especially amazingly cool, smart girls like you. Don’t take it personally. I haven’t been there for years, but I do remember what it was like – everyone knowing each other’s business.

The time will fly, my darling. Before you know it you’ll be back home with me. And I really can’t wait. Until then, just hang in there, OK? I’ll see you again very soon.

I almost forgot − there’s been a slight change of plan. They’re shortening our New Zealand trip by three days and we’re flying back to Europe early. The producers want us to be in Paris for Valentine’s Day next week. We’ve been asked to film a piece for “Six One News” and I’m going to present it. Me – on the news! Not doing the weather after the news – actually on the news!!! Mopsy, you have no idea how much this means to me. All those clever clogs newsreaders can’t look down their snooty noses at me any more. I’m one of them. I just hope I don’t fall into the river or something daft. :-)

I’m going to interview lovers snapping their locks onto one of the lock bridges. That was my idea, Mopsy. Julian had never even heard of the lock bridges. I told him he was such an old dinosaur.

Anyway, must run. We have so much filming to squeeze in over the next few days, it’s unbelievable. We’re flying to Auckland this Thursday for a whistle-stop tour of the city and from then on it’s dash, dash, dash. So, unless there’s an emergency, I won’t be in contact. My poor old brain won’t know what time of the day or night it is. After Paris it’s straight back to Dublin for three days to do some editing and voice-overs (so sorry I won’t make it down to see you, but it will be Manic Monday, my darling) and then we fly on to Rome and then New York, New York − so good they named it twice. The Big Apple of my dreams. Speaking of which – sweet dreams, my darling, darling Mopsy.

Good night, or “buonanotte”, as they say in Paris.

I love you so much, Mollie Mops. I LOVE YOU, LOVE YOU, LOVE YOU.

Flora

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BOOK: Mollie Cinnamon Is Not a Cupcake
9.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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