The Brilliant Ideas of Lily Green

by Lisa Siberry

  Firstly, Violet was waiting for me, her lips shining a happy yellow and her phone glued to her hand. OK, so we spent the whole walk to school talking about her Lip Switch makeup video, which had hundreds of comments, and in just twenty minutes the views went from 1,000 to 1,351, which Violet said was a ‘big deal’.

  Honestly, I didn’t care so much about the video. But I did love watching Violet’s face lighting up as she stared at the little screen. I knew that technically she was looking at herself wearing my lip balm, but it also felt like she was seeing me, in some weird way. And that wasn’t all – the lip balm was having other side effects, too.

  Like Zoe spending library study hour googling ‘lip balm berries’ and asking random people in the playground if they knew anyone called Rosa. And when Violet innocently showed her the Lip Switch video, Zoe had an actual tantrum and kicked the flagpole so hard she scuffed her perfect silver boot.

  I laughed right into my notebook about that.

  Zoe thought she could steal her way to success, but I had a jar of glowing flowers underneath my bed, and I was one mixing bowl away from making something so beautiful it would bring the salon back with a bang.

  ‘Take that, BeautyGlow,’ I whispered to myself. My eyes wandered across the playground to the art room, where Ivy was sitting inside on her own, but I refocused on my notebook.

  I had work to do.

  There was good news and bad news waiting for me at home.

  The good news – Mum was out grocery shopping, which meant I had a few hours to make a mess in the kitchen.

  The bad news – Faye was in our bedroom, scooping Lip Switch into hundreds of tiny plastic pots for the launch the next day. This was a major problem because I couldn’t pull the jar of glowing flowers out from under the bed with my sister there.

  Time was ticking and I was desperate to start experimenting with the flowers.

  I paced around the kitchen, not knowing what to do. The window was open, and the distant screech of Ivy’s violin floated in on the breeze. She must have been practising.

  Practise, practise, practise.

  I flipped open my notebook, and saw my oatmeal and mint body cream idea. It made me think of Ivy. Not just because it was green, but because she’d asked me about it that day in her kitchen.

  I could still hear Ivy’s violin. It sounded like a cat crying, but she kept going, because Ivy never seemed to give up on anything. She’d even spent five weeks teaching herself how to draw a nose.

  Nostrils are hard.

  I laughed to myself and ran a hand over the oatmeal and mint body cream formula. If Ivy could spend five weeks drawing noses and two hours a day playing violin, I figured I could at least try making some body cream while I waited for Faye to disappear.

  Just for practice, I thought, pulling some bottles out of the pantry and fridge.

  My fingers tingled as I tipped a box of oatmeal into a saucepan with some water, and brought it to a boil. Next, I melted vegetable oil, honey and almond oil in another pot. When they were both ready, I tipped the two bubbling mixtures into a bowl, along with a handful of chopped mint, some parsley, and a squeeze of lemon juice. I thought of Ivy and dripped in a few drops of green food colouring too.

  Not bad.

  ‘Beauty quiz time!’ shouted Faye from the bedroom.

  Great. Faye’s always taking these ridiculous online beauty quizzes, and she makes me take them too. I kept stirring, and rubbed a bit of cream on the back of my hand. It was nice, but … boring, it’s a big bowl of boring, a voice whispered in my head.

  Maybe this was a bad idea.

  No such thing as a bad idea, said another voice in my head. It sounded like Mrs D. The only way to get good at something is to keep trying.

  I sighed and went back to the pantry. I ripped open a chamomile tea bag, crushed the fragrant yellow flowers into a fine dust, and sprinkled that into the body cream. Next, a drop of lavender oil to make it smell better, and a dusting of nutmeg powder for warmth.

  I smeared some cream on my arm. It looked and smelt heaps better. And the crushed flower dust had given it some texture without being gritty. But the mixture still didn’t feel right.

  ‘First question. What is your morning hair routine?’ shouted Faye. ‘Wait, don’t tell me. Nothing, just walk out the door a sloppy mess.’

  I went to slam the kitchen door, but stopped: a sloppy mess.

  I needed something wet and sloppy to make the body cream easier to spread.

  Snapping up two pink grapefruits from the fruit bowl, I scraped out all the flesh and whizzed it in the food processor, then tipped the pink mess into the body cream, gave it a mix, and scooped some up with my finger. My oatmeal, mint and grapefruit body cream felt beautiful, and it smelt dreamy, and it was a beautiful grassy green, but …

  I waited for it to do something. Anything. But it just sat there on the tip of my finger like any other body cream. Compared to Glue Goo and Lip Switch, it was blurg blurg blurg. No one would pay for this.

  What are you doing? Everything you make is blurg, not beautiful, hissed the voice in my head.

  Be quiet, I told it.

  ‘Second question,’ shouted Faye. ‘Where do you get inspiration for your makeup look?’

  Inspiration. I needed inspiration, but when I went back to my notebook, it was just bad idea after bad idea. None of them were beautiful enough to save the salon. I slowly lowered my forehead onto the kitchen bench.

  I can’t make anything without the plants.

  ‘Lily, are you even trying to come up with an answer?’ shouted Faye.

  ‘Unfortunately, yes,’ I mumbled. ‘But I don’t have a makeup look, I’m twelve.’

  ‘Fine, skipping to question three! Which lip colour makes you glow?’

  I looked around the kitchen. The bench was covered in oatmeal and grapefruit pulp, and I still had nothing.

  ‘This is a disaster,’ I mumbled, sweeping all the scraps down the kit-chute into Crunch’s food bowl. I considered throwing out the body cream too, but decided Crunch could eat it later, so I scraped all the green goop into a container, put it in the fridge, and thumped the door closed. A Post-it Note quivered and fell off. It said: Beauty begins the moment you decide to be yourself!

  I stuck it back on the fridge, wishing Mum would put normal things on the fridge, like shopping lists or receipts.

  ‘Here are the lipstick options,’ Faye sauntered out of the bedroom holding her laptop. She had a Glue-Gooed side-ponytail that stuck out in a horizontal woosh, like a giant fan was aimed at the side of her head. But her normally soft brown hair looked as stiff as a branch, and there was definitely more of that dirt-like powder on the shoulders of her orange crop top.

  ‘How can you still be using Glue Goo?’ I asked, pointing at her ponytail. ‘I thought we ran out.’

  Faye swatted me away. ‘I might have kept a little extra for myself. It was my idea to sell it, after all.’

  ‘Wait, you still have some shampoo left?’ I asked in disbelief.

  ‘Well, I did.’ Faye pulled a tiny glass bottle out of her pocket. There was only a drop of orange liquid at the bottom. ‘Turns out your miraculous shampoo has one little problem: the glue effect wears off after a day. And I can’t have that.’

  Hmmm. I frowned at the dust on my sister’s shoulders. ‘So you’ve been washing your hair with it every day?’

  Faye shrugged. ‘Got to look my best for the launch tomorrow.’

  ‘But Faye,’ I did the calculations. ‘That means you’ve been using Glue Goo for four days.’

  ‘Good counting, genius. And your point is? Wait, I don’t care.’ My sister shot me a sarcastic smile and her Lip Switch lips twinkled green. The strange black sludge from the previous night was still stuck on her gums – only worse.

  I felt a pinch of fear. ‘What about Lip Switch? You haven’t been wearing it every day, have you?’

  ‘Of course I have.’ Faye scoffed. ‘I wear it twenty-four seven because Be the Boss says I sho
uld always be the face for my business. Now shut up and answer the question – which lip colour makes you glow?’

  I gave Faye’s hair and lips a long look. I was probably overreacting. Last year she dip-dyed the ends of her hair blonde, then went swimming at the pool, and the tips turned green. After that, half the girls at her high school showed up with green tips. Faye has that effect on people. She probably knew what she was doing.

  ‘So? Raving Red, Scandalous Silver, or Glow Girl Purple?’ asked Faye.

  Glow Girl Purple? I rolled my eyes, because who even comes up with these dumb lipstick names? But then something in my head sparkled. An idea.

  ‘Glow Girl Purple,’ I murmured.

  Satisfied, Faye headed back into the bedroom and I forgot all about her weird hair and strange gums, because I had an idea. A brilliant idea.

  And yes, it involved the glowing purple flowers.

  But I was desperate, and my family was counting on me, and my oatmeal and mint body cream was basically cat food. So as far as I could tell, there was no other option.

  I just needed to wait for everyone to go to bed.

  When I woke up the next morning, my cheek was smooshed against the toilet lid and my arm was wrapped around a bucket.

  I’d spent all night locked in the bathroom, working on my Glow Girl body cream. Two litres of it, to be exact, made from natural yoghurt, a few containers of Faye’s shea butter lotion, maple syrup, blueberries and – of course – the petals of Rosa’s glowing purple flowers. I’d mixed it together in a bucket with a toothbrush because I couldn’t risk Mum catching me with the flowers. But if those petals were as magical as I hoped, the body cream would be the final perfect piece in our plan to save Kitty’s. The thought sent a nervous thrill through me.

  ‘Lily! The salon washbasin has hairballs in it! Get cleaning!’ Faye thumped on the bathroom door on her way downstairs.

  I pulled my face off the toilet lid. The bucket was heavy, but I managed to drag it into the kitchen, and when I heaved it into the fridge, the inside of the fridge started glowing. I dipped my finger into the bucket and wiped a dollop on the back of my hand. The cream was smooth and silky and within seconds it made my skin glow a soft, dreamy purple.

  I’d done it. The day before, everything had seemed impossible. But now I had a bucket full of beautiful that was going to save Kitty’s and get me first place in the invention competition.

  I happily flicked some squished blueberries off my rumpled uniform, squeezed the last bit of toothpaste out of the tube into my mouth, and ran downstairs.

  ‘Finally.’ Faye’s hair was Glue-Gooed into a dead-straight curtain down her back, with a dramatic spiky fringe. She made a face at my morning hair. ‘You look worse than usual. How is that possible?’

  ‘I did it,’ I whispered. ‘Beauty product number three is in the fridge, ready for packaging.’

  Faye’s eyes got so big I could see the whites around them. ‘Is it beautiful? It’d better be beautiful.’

  ‘Trust me, it is.’ I showed her the glowing smear on my hand.

  A greedy look flashed across my sister’s face, then she whipped a can of Honeydew Frizz-Fighter out of her apron and sprayed it at my head. ‘Operation Beauty Miracle is about to enter its third and final phase.’ She sounded as nervous as I felt. ‘By the way, Mum said you can stay home from school today. Everyone arrives at three-thirty, and we’ll need you working with us in the salon.’

  I thought she was kidding until I saw Mum swishing through the beaded curtain with a purple apron folded neatly in her hands.

  ‘I think you’re finally ready to wear this, Lily.’ Mum held out the apron.

  ‘Told you,’ whispered Faye. She gave my curls one last scrunch and pushed me towards Mum.

  I walked slowly, afraid that the apron might disappear like a dream. But when I picked it up, the fabric was thick and perfect and sent a glowing rush of happiness up my arms. Mum had embroidered Junior Beauty Assistant on the pocket in gold thread. I stared at it, mesmerised, and felt something growing inside me, like a tiny seed pushing through dirt.

  ‘You’ve worked so hard to help the salon this week, Lily.’ Mum dabbed at her eyes. ‘You deserve to be an official part of the team now.’

  No one mentioned the sad truth – that we only had three days left as a team. But I pushed that thought aside and slipped on the apron. It fit perfectly and, even though I’m not much of a mirror person, I took a long time tying it up and looking at my reflection. It was so beautiful. And it was finally mine.

  Faye patted my back. ‘Congratulations, frizzball. You can clean the drain tomorrow. Just make sure you wear gloves, because that thing is clogged with hair.’

  ‘Thanks. Sort of.’ I laughed, but it sounded more like a sob.

  Over on the desk, Faye’s phone vibrated with a message. Seconds later, there was another one.

  ‘It’s happening. Everyone’s talking about the launch this afternoon.’ Faye turned to Mum. ‘Wait and see – by the end of today, Kitty’s will be back in business.’

  ‘I hope you’re right about this, Faye,’ said Mum.

  ‘I’m always right.’ My sister held out her hand. I put mine on top. Finally, Mum added hers to the pile. ‘Green Girls, today is going to be a beautiful day.’

  I held on tight to the three of us, and when Mum and Faye bustled off to start packaging the body cream, I slipped my hand inside my brand-new apron pocket, just to hold onto the feeling for a while.

  Seven hours and one hundred purple balloons later, we were ready.

  We couldn’t do anything about the faded purple walls, but the rest of the salon looked incredible. Faye had covered the desk with a shimmery purple tablecloth, and arranged two hundred containers of Glow Girl body cream into a pyramid, next to a neat tower of Lip Switch lip balm pots. She’d even convinced Mum to replace the old blown-out lightbulbs around the salon mirror, and strung fairy lights around the salon door.

  All three of us had our purple aprons on, and when the clock finally ticked over to three-thirty, something amazing happened.

  Customers started showing up.

  OK, so most of them were neighbours and Faye’s friends from school. But within minutes, the entire salon was full of people chattering away excitedly, and Mum and Faye were wearing their brightest salon smiles, and it was all because of my beauty products.

  ‘My beauty products.’ I tried whispering the words just to make sure this was all real.

  ‘That’s right dear, your beauty products,’ said a familiar voice behind me, and I spun around to see Mrs Dougall. ‘Well done, Lily girl.’ She gave me a warm hug. ‘I see you finally found the courage to make your own beautiful inventions.’

  Sort of. I half-smiled, because I knew I couldn’t have done any of this without Rosa’s plants. Was that cheating? I wasn’t sure. But that splodgy, guilty feeling seeped through me again.

  I tried to change the subject. ‘Did you like the Glue Goo Shampoo, Mrs D?’

  ‘Indeed I did, Lily, it was very charming,’ she nodded, and her blue-rinsed curls quivered. ‘But I was happy when it wore off after a day. A giant gluey beehive wasn’t quite me. And I find it’s best to be oneself – no point pretending you’re something you’re not.’ Mrs D gave me another hug and disappeared into the crowd, just as a pair of silver boots caught my eye.

  Zoe – great.

  She pushed her way over as she eyed the stack of beauty products on the desk. ‘Wow, body cream?’ she said sarcastically. ‘Green, when you said you’d made something incredible I almost believed you. But turns out it’s just some dumb body cream.’ She almost sounded relieved.

  ‘Um, nice to see you too, Zoe. And for your information, it isn’t just any old body cream.’

  ‘If you say so.’ Zoe glared around the salon like she was afraid she might catch a disease. ‘Doesn’t matter anyway, because I’ve made something that’s going to blow away the Lab Girls at the comp and make me an instant TV superstar.’

 
‘Made something?’ I couldn’t believe what she was saying. ‘You mean you stole something. Like my lip balm formula.’

  ‘Lip balm? Nah-uh.’ Zoe shook her head. ‘My invention’s way better than that, and when I find my last ingredient, believe me, it’s going to be berry, berry beautiful.’ She snickered, and I had a sudden urge to push her out the door and into the street, when Violet, Bella and Saanvi appeared.

  ‘Good luck today, Lil.’ Violet waved her phone at me. ‘This is so exciting. You’re actually selling your beauty products in Kitty’s!’

  ‘I have no idea what that cream does yet, but I want a pot,’ said Bella.

  ‘Me too. I’m buying three,’ nodded Saanvi.

  Zoe huffed and crossed her arms, but I didn’t care. Even the toxic fumes of jealousy radiating out of her weren’t going to spoil my big day. Plus, I had another way to get back at Zoe.

  ‘Um, Violet, want to stay after the launch? I asked shyly. ‘Mum can paint your nails purple.’

  Violet smiled. ‘I’d love that.’

  Zoe huffed again. Yesssss.

  ‘Lily! Lily, over here!’ Ivy was waving at me through the crowd, with Bertie bobbing on her head.

  I gave her a faint wave and turned back to Violet. I had another idea. ‘And if you want, we could make a Glow Girl video together. Just you and me.’

  My best friend’s eyes lit up and I’m pretty sure she was about to say yes when Ivy burst into our little circle. Everyone backed away as they took in Ivy’s look. She was wearing dangly watermelon earrings and a hair clip shaped like a paintbrush. On top of her head sat Bertie, happily pecking away at some seeds hidden in her tangled brown hair.

  ‘Hi guys,’ Ivy waved at everyone. She’d drawn smiley faces on all of her fingertips. Zoe laughed under her breath.

  ‘Sorry I’m late,’ said Ivy, turning to me. ‘I’m supposed to be practising violin.’ She made a bored face. ‘I tried convincing Nan to come, but she’s busy weeding. Typical Rosa.’