It was very strange to think that he was right there in the lounge room with her (and her mum) and yet not there at all. Her dad certainly looked important in his navy suit and yellow tie. From the side view when the cameras changed angles, his nose was just a little bit pointy like Penelope’s. Penelope leaned forward on the couch and cupped her chin in her hands.
‘These are core promises,’ her dad said in a very clear voice. ‘They are blueprints for our nation. Improved transport. Better health care. The education our children deserve. If you vote for us, you vote for greatness.’
When another politician came on screen, Penelope muted the TV.
‘Dad is going to improve transport, and health care, and education,’ she told her mum (in case she hadn’t been listening properly). Truly, her dad was so inspiring. Penelope thought that if she and Oscar had been even a tenth as inspiring as her dad was they could get kids to make Lucky Jars. It hadn’t been looking good before she got sick, though. She would have to wait until tomorrow to see.
‘Well,’ said her mum, ‘he’s certainly a good talker.’ She paused, then reached for Penelope’s hand. ‘I’m sure Tony will do his best to keep those promises. I’m sure that he wants to improve transport and health care and education,’ she said. ‘But actions speak louder than words. It’s not easy to achieve all those things.’
Penelope barely heard her mum speak because she was so inspired by her dad. She blew her nose. It actually felt quite clear now. In fact, she felt quite well.
The thing was (though she wouldn’t say it aloud to her mum) Penelope thought she was quite like her father.
He was very good at convincing people to see things his way. When he wrote speeches, he would note dot points on an index card, to remind him of what to say. That way, he wasn’t just reading out a speech. It sounded more natural, and it meant he could have eye contact with his audience.
Perhaps it was too late to inspire kids to make more Lucky Jars. But she was absolutely (well, almost completely) sure that she could convince Bob not to have a crush on Tommy Stratton. Truly, it was probably her duty to get Bob thinking clearly again, just like it was her dad’s duty to improve transport and health care and education.
After all: sometimes the truth needs to be spoken, even when it’s unpleasant.
Suddenly, Penelope felt well enough to get started on her dot points right away.
Penelope felt perfectly well on Friday morning. She was a bit nervous about telling Bob the (unpleasant) truth about her crush on Tommy Stratton, but the index card Penelope held in her hand was reassuring. She got to school early so she could practise her speech.
Finally, Bob appeared at the school gate. She squealed when she saw Penelope, and ran over to the bench seat to greet her.
‘How are you, Pen?’ Bob asked, sitting down next to Penelope with a thud. ‘Ms Pike told us you had the flu. Hooly dooly, I’ve missed you!’
Penelope breathed deeply. Bob was the very best sort of best friend. Suddenly, Penelope had second thoughts about giving her speech. But then she checked herself. It was because Bob was the very best sort of best friend that Penelope had to go ahead with this. She absolutely could NOT lose her to Tommy Stratton!
‘I had a rough couple of days,’ Penelope told Bob. ‘But I also had some time to think.’ Penelope tilted her head to the side and checked her dot points.
‘Bob, I don’t think you should have a crush on Tommy Stratton,’ she said.
Bob wrinkled her eyebrows.
‘What are you talking about, Pen?’ she asked.
Penelope sighed. It was time for the unpleasant truths.
‘For starters, he’s not actually the cutest boy in the world,’ she said.
‘Well, he is to me,’ Bob said. ‘And of course you don’t think he is, because YOU don’t have a crush on him.’
‘And he has a terrible singing voice,’ Penelope reminded Bob.
‘Well, I won’t ask him to sing to me,’ Bob replied.
Penelope exhaled loudly. Bob could be very stubborn. She checked her next dot point.
‘Kids with crushes get silly,’ she appealed. ‘And having a crush on Tommy might mean that you spend less time with me!’
Penelope hadn’t meant to blurt those last two points out like that, altogether. But perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing to do. Because just then, Bob pinched Penelope on the thigh (in a good way). Then she bumped Penelope with her shoulder.
‘Soz, Pen. I have got a crush on Tommy,’ she said. ‘I’m not going to stop. But I’m not going to ditch you either.’
Penelope looked at her dot points. Honestly, they hadn’t been that helpful.
‘Are you still going to be my best friend, Bob?’ she asked nervously.
‘Of course I will. Don’t be nutso! I’ll be your BFF forever.’ Bob said, nudging her again.
Penelope felt a small smile forming inside her.
‘Are you going to let Tommy get you in headlocks and pull you around in circles?’ she asked. ‘I’m not sure I could watch that.’
‘No way, José,’ Bob said. ‘Not going to happen.’
Penelope felt the smile grow into a giggle. Bob was just so – well, she was just Bob. And, even though Penelope wished her speech had changed Bob’s mind about Tommy, Penelope wouldn’t change a thing about her (very) best friend.
‘Come on Pen,’ Bob said. ‘There’s something you have to see!’
Bob led Penelope into the classroom. Although she did stop briefly at Tommy Stratton’s table (twelve seconds – just talking, no headlocks), Penelope was patient.
‘Welcome back, Penelope!’ Ms Pike said, standing in front of her desk. ‘How about a round of applause for Oscar and Penelope please, class?’
Penelope wound her way through the tables to the front of the room, surprised by the applause. She’d only missed three days of school. Then again, she was almost never sick.
Oscar Finley joined her up the front. When Ms Pike stepped away from her desk, Penelope gasped.
There were big ones and small ones. They were bright and colourful, and there were LOADS of them – Penelope counted approximately forty-three jars.
But then Ms Pike opened the cabinet behind her desk, and Penelope could see at least twelve more in there.
‘It’s the best response we’ve ever had,’ Ms Pike said. ‘Congratulations.’
‘We’re bound to break the Lucky Jar record!’ Oscar said, breaking into the Lucky Jar rap in front of the whole class.
This time (though it was quite hard to rap when she absolutely could not stop grinning from ear to ear) Penelope joined in from the first verse. She even managed a (not too bad) moonwalk.
Perhaps she hadn’t been able to convince Bob not to have a crush. But obviously, she still had some of her dad’s skill when it came to inspiring people.
If they managed to sell them all, her dad was going to be SO PROUD! And there was only one more sleep before the fete!
Penelope’s dad was due to arrive at 9 am on Saturday. Penelope woke at 7.30 am to the soothing strums of the harp alarm on her iPhone. She showered and got dressed in her favourite jeans, T-shirt and sandals. She double-checked her sausage bag to make sure she had everything she would need for the fete, a sleepover at a fancy hotel and Harry’s soccer match tomorrow. Then she took the bow-tie badge from her jewellery stand, ready to give it to her dad, and did a super-duper tidy of her bedroom, just in case he would see it.
Since she knew she would most likely be eating from the top of the food pyramid (‘eat rarely’) that day, she decided to kickstart the day with some high-fibre cereal.
While Penelope was eating her cereal, her mum rushed into the kitchen carrying Penelope’s jewellery stand (minus the bow-tie badge). Penelope would have liked to point out that her mum’s odd socks were quite visible under her jeans (one white with red flowers and one bright green with yellow stripes), but there was no time for her to change anyway.
‘Hey poss,’ Penelope’s mum said, ‘I
’ve got to fly. I’ve got some setting up to do for the craft stall. Have you seen my car keys?’
Penelope struggled to shake off the feeling that she really should be going with her mum to help set up the craft stall and to make sure the Lucky Jars were nicely displayed. But it was even more important to be here when her dad arrived so they could start the weekend the right way.
Penelope pointed to a hook on the kitchen wall where she’d put the car keys after finding them in the pantry.
‘Ah, you’re a legend,’ her mum said, picking up the keys. She gave Penelope a hug. It was quite a long, squeezy hug and Penelope had to remind her mum that she was running late. When she got to the front door, Penelope’s mum turned around.
‘I’ll see you there,’ she said. ‘I hope you have a good time with your father.’
‘Of course I will,’ Penelope replied. ‘It’s going to be the best weekend ever.’
It was a bit annoying that her mum kept standing at the door. She was letting a draught in and making herself even later.
‘Call me if you need anything,’ she said, finally turning to go. ‘I’ll make sure I have my phone close by.’
Penelope shrugged. If she needed anything, her dad could take care of it.
It was not easy trying to get Harry up early on a Saturday morning. Penelope had to use her old trick of pulling the doona right off her brother and leaving it far enough from the bed that he would have to get up to put it back.
Unfortunately, just like their mum, who had packed for him, Harry was not good at being organised, so Penelope checked his overnight bag while he took care of his soccer gear. By 8.56 am (four minutes before their dad was due to arrive!) Harry still hadn’t cleaned his teeth. When he started playing a game on the Xbox, Penelope took ten very deep breaths, but she didn’t comment. It was Extremely Important that she and Harry weren’t arguing when their dad arrived. They needed to impress him with their good manners.
Penelope waited near the front door with their overnight bags.
At 8.59 am there was a knock. Their father was right on time.
Penelope smiled her brightest smile and opened the door.
Penelope had seen this on several TV shows (even with girls who were bigger than her).
He was carrying a briefcase, and it was a little awkward when it got lodged between them, but (other than that) it was a successful move.
‘Well, well, well,’ he said as he put Penelope back on the carpet in the hall. One of her legs landed more heavily than the other, but she corrected herself very quickly. ‘It’s great to see you. You look terrific.’
‘Thanks,’ Penelope said.
Her dad was dressed in a grey suit with a navy tie. It was the kind of thing he wore to work. Penelope was pleased that he also thought this weekend was Very Important. Penelope almost wished she’d put on her best dress too, but that wouldn’t be very practical for going on rides at the fete.
Penelope closed the door and followed her dad into the lounge room. As they came in, Harry pressed pause on his game. For Harry, that was Very Polite.
‘Hi Dad,’ he said.
‘Hi mate,’ their dad said. He ruffled Harry’s hair (without saying anything about a haircut) and Harry let him. So far, things were going PERFECTLY.
Penelope felt very happy to see her dad and Harry sitting side by side on the couch, playing Xbox together. She was pleasantly surprised to discover that they made similar sounds (oohs, aahs and grunts) as they played. Penelope had never really thought her dad and Harry were similar at all, and she definitely wanted them to have something in common. Having things in common was a Very Good Thing for strong family ties (especially the stretchy kind).
Penelope sat on the armchair next to the couch, listening. Harry was getting quite chatty. In between the oohs and aahs and grunts, Harry and their dad discussed strategies to help Harry’s soccer team win the game on Sunday. At one point, Harry even raced upstairs and brought down his soccer jersey (number sixteen) to show their dad.
Although Penelope was conscious that they should get going soon, she was Very Patient as she sat in her armchair. In fact, she was quite sure her father was going to point out how patient Penelope was being any second now.
Or minute.
Finally, her dad stood up.
‘So sweetheart,’ he said, ‘is there something you’d like to show me?’
Penelope flew up the stairs. (Not literally. Literally, it was more like a power walk.) There were loads of things she wanted to show her dad. Not to mention the special gift she had for him! It was a good feeling to see him nodding his head in approval as he looked around.
‘It’s very neat, Penelope,’ he said with a smile. ‘You get that from me.’
Penelope felt like she was glowing from the inside out. She angled her head towards a particular wall. Just as she’d hoped, her father’s eyes rested on the award certificates that were pinned up there in perfect rows.
‘I’m actually the number one award-winner in my whole school,’ Penelope told her father.
‘Well, that is terrific,’ he said, patting Penelope’s shoulder. ‘Good work.’ As he took his hand away, her dad checked his watch.
Penelope was (just a tiny bit) worried that she was losing his attention. But it was only a tiny worry. She knew she had something that would definitely get it back.
‘Close your eyes, Dad,’ she said.
Her dad closed his eyes. Penelope opened her dresser drawer and took out the bow-tie badge she’d made.
‘Open.’
He opened his eyes and inspected the badge in Penelope’s hand.
‘Well, well, well,’ he said. Penelope thought maybe he was too overwhelmed to speak. ‘A bow tie. Is that for me?’
Penelope nodded.
‘I made it,’ she said.
‘Thank you, sweetheart,’ her dad said. ‘It’s terrific.’
Penelope stood on her dressing-table stool and pinned the badge to the lapel of her dad’s suit.
‘Very smart,’ her dad said, looking in Penelope’s mirror.
‘You’ll be able to see all the rest of my jewellery in the craft stall at the fete,’ Penelope told him. She paused. ‘I’m not sure they’ll sell very quickly,’ she said modestly, ‘but we’d better get going just in case.’
Penelope’s dad tapped his watch this time. Inside Penelope was a weird, fluttery, not very positive feeling that she couldn’t explain.
‘Actually, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘That reminds me. Something’s come up.’
It’s going to be all right, Penelope told herself once with each stair (twelve tellings in total) on the way back down to the lounge room.
When they got there, Penelope’s dad sat on the (single-person-all-by-himself) armchair and Penelope sat on the couch next to her brother. For some reason, their dad parted the curtains behind his chair and looked out the window before he spoke.
‘It’s been great seeing you guys,’ he said. Penelope frowned. The fluttery, anxious feeling was drowning out her It’s going to be all right chant. Harry fidgeted with his soccer jersey. Their father cleared his throat.
‘It’s unfortunate, but something has come up for work and I need to fly home straight away. As a politician, sometimes I have to sacrifice personal pleasures in the name of the public. It’s a commitment I make …’
He kept talking, but Penelope couldn’t pay attention.
Harry stood up and his soccer jersey fell to the carpet. Penelope watched as her brother walked over to the window and pulled the curtains apart. Penelope saw a car and driver parked right outside their house. Harry shook his head at Penelope. Then he blew out a sigh and rolled his eyes.
Straight away, Penelope deduced that the car and driver were waiting to take their dad to the airport. Sometimes, Penelope wished she wasn’t so good at deducing (most) things, because that meant their dad had known about this the whole time he had been here.
‘What I will say,’ their dad continued, reaching into t
he breast pocket of his suit, ‘is that I’ve kept the reservation at the hotel for you two and your mother. You’ll still have a great weekend, with the fair today and the soccer match …’
‘Blah blah blah,’ Harry said, walking back from the window.
Penelope tried to gather up her flat-as-a-pancake feelings. Part of her wanted to jump up and slap a hand over Harry’s mouth. His behaviour was definitely NOT GOOD for stretchy family ties. But being flat as a pancake, she couldn’t quite find enough spring to even get up off the couch.
‘I beg your pardon, Harry?’ their father said.
Harry narrowed his eyes. ‘So you’re going to ditch us again. Big deal. It’s not like we’re not used to it,’ Harry said.
‘Now, that’s uncalled for,’ their dad said. He opened his wallet and put some money down on the coffee table.
‘Whatever, Dad,’ Harry said, shrugging as though he didn’t care. But Penelope knew that he DID care. She could tell by the way he tapped his foot against the carpet, like he always did when he was excited or agitated.
For a moment, Penelope felt worse for Harry than she did for herself. Harry had really tried this time.
‘Come on, Penelope,’ Harry said in a defeated voice. ‘Let’s go and get ready for the fete.’
Harry had not held Penelope’s hand for a Very Long Time, but he kept doing it all the way up the stairs, and all the way to her bedroom. Perhaps it was the way Harry was looking after her that started pumping Penelope up from feeling flat as a pancake.
There were a lot of things Penelope had tried not to remember. On the stairs (third to seventh) she remembered how their dad had cancelled a holiday the day before they were supposed to go. Then, just a couple of weeks later, he’d sent photos of his NEW family on holiday in Hawaii. (Penelope had never been anywhere like that in her ENTIRE life.) At the time, she didn’t even let herself get cross (well, not at her dad anyway, though she did have a couple of outbursts at home).
Lucky Jars and Broken Promises Page 4
