Fortune Cookie. Jean Ure

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СКАЧАТЬ didn’t say anything at all to that. I felt like shaking her. I said, “Well?”

      “Well, what?” said Cupcake.

      “Why not try asking her?”

      “I’m not asking my mum if we can have a dog! She’s got enough to do, looking after Joey.”

      “But it would make him so happy!” I said.

      “How?” She suddenly turned on me. “How would it make him happy? He couldn’t play with it, he couldn’t take it out for walks, he c—”

      “We’d take it out!”

      “And that would make him happy?” She didn’t have to bite my head off. “How d’you know what’d make him happy? He’s not your brother!”

      That really got to me. “Doesn’t mean I don’t care about him!” I said.

      She obviously felt a bit ashamed, then. She mumbled something about being sorry, but that it wasn’t like I was responsible for him. I said, “No, but I still don’t like it when he’s sad.”

      She muttered, “I expect you’d be sad if you were in a wheelchair.”

      If I was in a wheelchair I’d be so frustrated I would probably scream and smash things. But Joey was such a bright, sunny little boy! He’d always just seemed to accept that there were certain things he couldn’t do. Until I’d gone round the previous weekend I’d never known him to be grumpy. Cupcake had been riding round the garden on Joey’s tricycle singing her silly cupcake song, but for once he hadn’t shown any interest. Usually he demanded that I do “the bird poo one”. I did offer. I said, “Come on! Let’s do it together… you get on the bike and I’ll push you, and we’ll both sing. Fudge keeps a-falling on my head… ”

      But he wouldn’t. I grabbed his hand and tried to coax him, but he just snatched his hand away and shouted, “Don’t wanna!” I was really upset. Now Cupcake was upsetting me as well!

      I said, “Look, I’m just saying… if he had a dog he mightn’t mind so much about—”

      “What?” she said. “About what?”

      “About…” I faltered. She’d sounded really fierce. I wasn’t used to Cupcake sounding fierce. “Being in a wheelchair?” I whispered.

      Cupcake’s face had gone bright red. “Why don’t you just shut up?” She hissed it at me. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

      What had I done to deserve that? She was in a really weird mood. I hated to quarrel with her, but you can’t just let yourself be trampled on. I said, “OK, if that’s the way you want it. Sorry I bothered.” And then I walked off, swishing my tennis racquet and leaving her there to sulk.

      It was the first time me and Cupcake had ever seriously fallen out. And I still didn’t know what it was I had done to upset her!

      In school next day we didn’t seem to be talking. Instead of sitting next to each other like we usually did, we both deliberately chose seats next to other people. Everybody noticed. At lunch time we even ended up at different tables. Livy said, “What’s going on?”

      I said, “Nothing. Why?”

      “Just asking,” said Livy.

      I gave her this stony glare, and she pulled a face and said, “Well, pardon me for breathing!” and began to talk to someone else.

      Me and Cupcake caught each other’s eye and quickly looked away again. I think we both felt a bit foolish. And upset, too. I can always tell when Cupcake is upset. She droops, and sags, and goes very quiet. I tend to do the exact opposite. I get all busy and LOUD, and charge about yelling and making jokes in the hope that no one will notice. I did a lot of charging about and yelling that particular day. In art, I charged about so much I managed to upset the fruit and flower arrangement we were supposed to be painting and skidded halfway across the studio on a bunch of grapes. Mrs Rae, who is normally very relaxed, threatened to send me out if I didn’t control myself.

      “What’s the matter with you, Danielle? You’re completely hyperactive!”

      Next day, it was like nothing had ever happened. Like both of us had decided the time had come to make up. We didn’t actually say anything, but Cupcake came and sat next to me, same as usual, and asked me how I’d got on with the French translation we’d been given for homework. When I said that I hadn’t got beyond the first few words, she said, “D’you want to borrow mine?” and slid her book across the desk for me to look at. It was like a sort of peace offering. Like in her own way she was saying sorry for having been so mean and grouchy. It immediately made me feel that I wanted to say sorry, too, so I thanked her and promised “I won’t actually copy.”

      Cupcake said, “You can if you want. I don’t mind.” Which was really generous of her, since she nearly always gets an A in French, whereas I am totally hopeless and usually get a big red D, plus rude comments along the lines of “Danielle, I really would appreciate it if you made a bit of an effort to stay awake when I am teaching you.” But anyway I didn’t totally copy as it might have got us into trouble. I am used to being in trouble, but it wouldn’t have been fair on Cupcake.

      After that, we were back to normal. I still had this feeling that Cupcake was a bit down, but sometimes with her it is hard to tell as she is naturally a quiet sort of person. She’s also quite secretive. I tend to blurt everything out, whereas Cupcake keeps things to herself. Still, I didn’t want to upset her again, so I did my best to pretend I hadn’t noticed. I thought if I talked loudly enough it would act as a sort of cover and nobody else would notice, either, which I don’t think they did. They are used to me being noisy and Cupcake being quiet.

      Saturday morning I went round to her place, same as always. We liked to give Joey a bit of time before we went off to mooch round the shops or practise my tennis. He was really on form that morning! All bright and bubbly and wanting to do things. We took him into the garden and he insisted on trying to get on his tricycle without any help from me or Cupcake. Unfortunately he couldn’t quite manage it, and toppled over on to the grass. We rushed to pick him up, but he pushed us away, going, “I can do it, I can do it!”

      It is very difficult to just stand by and watch, but we knew we had to let him. He almost made it. Slowly he pulled himself back on to his feet, muttering, “Now I fall down, now I get up. Now I fall down… now I get up!” And then, at last, he let us help him.

      We both hugged him, which was something we wouldn’t have dared do a week ago. He’d been so angry the previous Saturday he’d probably have punched us. Now he was all cheeky and grinning and demanding the bird poo song as we pulled him round the garden on his bike.

      We played for about an hour, until it was time for Joey to rest. I said to Cupcake, “Let’s go and see if Cookie’s there!”

      He was, but so was the old woman, so we didn’t like to call to him. We just perched on our bucket and watched for a while as he pottered about the garden. His legs were still rubbery, and while he was digging in a bit of old earth, one of them suddenly gave way and he sat down with a thump, looking quite surprised. I immediately thought of Joey; his legs kept giving way. It was what had happened that morning, when he’d tried to get on his bike. СКАЧАТЬ