by Sue Limb
After that we had a pizza in the open-air café, and then we went home. Yasmin and I were so tired, we slept all the way back in the car. We woke up when the car stopped and the engine was switched off.
‘Wakey, wakey, girls!’ said Mum. ‘We’re home!’
We yawned and stretched and blinked. It was still light, of course. Having my birthday in the summer holidays is really cool. It never falls on a school day. Yasmin’s is in January – I feel really sorry for her.
We piled out of the car and went indoors. Dad and Joe were having a cup of tea and looking a bit tired and dusty.
‘Once we’d fixed up the exhibition, we came home and cleared out the shed,’ said Dad.
‘Yeah,’ added Joe sarcastically. ‘More fun than I’ve had for ages.’
We told them all about our day. Mum got some juice for us and produced a little birthday cake which had been hidden in the back of the fridge. Everybody sang ‘Happy Birthday’ again and I blew the candles out.
‘Has it been a good birthday, then, love?’ asked Mum.
‘Oh yes, thanks!’ I said. ‘The best ever!’ I hugged and kissed Mum, Dad and Yasmin, and to show my sisterly affection, I bit Joe on the ankle.
‘OK, then,’ said Mum. ‘If you’ve finished your juice, just nip up and tidy your room, and then we’ll take Yasmin home.’
‘Tidy my room?’ I almost exploded with rage. ‘What!? Tidy my room on my birthday? Oh please, NO!’
‘Come on, Ruby love,’ said Mum. ‘You promised to tidy it every day, remember? Every day after supper. It’ll only take five minutes.’
Dad and Joe were looking at me and grinning. How could they be so mean on my birthday?
‘I’ll do it tomorrow!’ I pleaded. I so didn’t want to do it. I so didn’t want Yasmin to see my mess. ‘It’s not fair on Yasmin!’ I said. ‘I’ll tidy up tonight at bedtime.’
I really couldn’t believe my mum could be so harsh.
‘Now don’t spoil your lovely day by being a stubborn little so-and-so,’ said Mum. ‘Just go and do as I say, please.’
‘I’ll help,’ said Yasmin. ‘Come on, Ruby. It won’t take a minute.’
I got down from the table in a massive sulk. I couldn’t believe my mum had forced me into this on my birthday, of all days. I stomped up the stairs. Welcome back to the real world, sucker.
Chapter 19
I don’t believe it!
I shoved my bedroom door open …
And SCREAMED ALOUD! Several times! Guess what! There was a tree house in there! A TREE HOUSE in my bedroom!
‘Oh my gawd!’ I screeched. ‘Oh no! I don’t believe it! Oh my gawd! It’s amaaaaaaaaaaazing!’
There were huge branches stretching right up from the floor to the ceiling. And there was a little wooden hut sitting on a platform nestled in among the branches. The platform was about as high as my head. There was a rope ladder you had to climb to get up into the house itself.
‘Go on!’ said Yasmin. ‘Climb up and have a look!’
My family was coming upstairs, laughing. They had staged the biggest surprise. When I had said this had been the best birthday ever, I’d had no idea this was waiting for me.
I climbed up the rope ladder and crawled into the tree house. There was a mattress in there, all made up as a bed, and the monkeys were in there, looking rather surprised.
Yasmin climbed up too, clumsily as usual. She nearly fell off. Then we sat down inside the tree house together. It even had a kind of thatched roof. There were a couple of windows to look out of, and you could close the door with a sort of canvas flap.
Somebody had painted the walls and ceiling of the room a bright sky-blue, so it was just like being outdoors.
‘Do you like it?’ asked Mum.
‘Like it!?’ I shouted. ‘I absolutely ADORE it!’
‘Dad and Joe made it,’ said Mum, ‘while I took you to the safari park, out of the way.’
‘Ron the carpenter helped,’ said Dad. ‘You know, Yasmin’s dad’s chappie.’
‘Shrek built it!’ said Yasmin with a grin. So Yasmin had been in on the secret all the time and she’d never said a word! How completely amazing.
‘The branches came from Yasmin’s garden,’ said Dad.
‘That tree that was cut down,’ said Yasmin.
‘And Joe designed it,’ said Mum.
‘It’s an installation,’ said Joe.
‘It was all Joe’s idea!’ said Mum. ‘It’s a work of art, petal!’
‘Holly helped,’ said Joe. ‘She painted the walls and the ceiling.’
I peeped out of the doorway down at Joe. He was grinning all over his face.
‘Thanks, Joe,’ I went on. ‘Remind me to bite you more gently in future.’
‘And the great advantage of having your tree house indoors,’ said Mum, ‘is that you can still enjoy it all through the winter.’
I knew she was right. My only problem was going to be tearing myself away from it. I just might spend the rest of my life right here.
Chapter 20
Clear off or
I’ll set the dogs on you
Joe’s exhibition opened a couple of days later. There was a sort of party to launch it. Some photographers came and a reporter from the local paper. Mrs Helvellyn had put prices on all his models – from fifty pounds to over a hundred pounds! I couldn’t believe it.
Holly was acting as a waitress, handing round canapes and champagne. She was wearing a tuxedo and a bow tie and she looked sublime.
‘Have a canape, Rogers,’ she said to Joe. I liked the way she called him ‘Rogers’.
‘Too nervous to eat,’ said Joe, waving the canapes away. ‘Local Artist Pukes Over Own Sculptures. Claims It Was Conceptual Art Event. Celebs Disgusted.’
‘You’re the celeb, you idiot,’ said Holly. ‘You know: It’s my party and I’ll puke if I want to.’ Then somebody came for a canape and she disappeared into a different conversation.
Mrs Helvellyn looked rich and powerful in a shimmering sky-blue dress and huge pearl earrings. Mum and Dad were slightly scruffy by comparison. Mum had a new dress, but it was a bit tight across her fat little bum. However, although I felt slightly ashamed of my family’s lack of style, somehow it only made me love them more.
And anyway, Uncle Tristram came all the way from Bath. Amazingly, he had managed to acquire a tall Dutch girlfriend called Astrid with wild Afro hair, tawny skin and gold lipstick. So at least there was one person from our family who was obviously not a nerd.
There was a real buzz and I overheard a lot of people saying things like: ‘Amazing!’, ‘Original!’, ‘So talented!’ I stood next to Joe and pulled a Joe sort of face so everyone would know I was his sister.
Yasmin came with all her family. In fact, Mr Saffet was the first person to buy one of the sculptures.
‘I’ll have that one that looks like an aeroplane,’ he said, getting out his cheque book.
‘Dad!’ hissed Yasmin. ‘It’s not an aeroplane, it’s a hawk!’
After she’d finished handing round the food and drink, Holly got her camera and took loads more photos. It was a great day. The best.
I mean, the day when I’d got my birthday tree house was the very best day, obviously. But this was wonderful in a completely different way. Because it wasn’t about me, it was about Joe. And though I frequently want to drop horrible things on his head, I also want him to be a mega-success, a total star.
Two or three days later it was Mum and Dad’s wedding anniversary. They went out for a special romantic dinner at a restaurant called Gino’s. Joe and I stayed at home and watched a movie about zombies. I was behind the sofa with my eyes closed most of the time, although the zombies were really funny.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door. I froze.
‘It’s clearly a zombie,’ said Joe. ‘You go.’
‘You go!’ I said. ‘You’re supposed to be the babysitter.’
‘OK, I’ll go if you come too,’ said Joe. ‘Home Alone:
Local Youngsters Eaten by Zombies While Their Heartless Parents Party at Gino’s.’
‘Come on, you wuss,’ I said. ‘It’s not even dark.’
We opened the door and there stood Holly. She was carrying a big leather bag and looking divine. However, she wasn’t as Gothic as usual. Just as I’d started saving up for my first red lipstick, she’d stopped wearing red. She hadn’t got any rings in her piercings either, just a few tiny sparkly stones. Her hair wasn’t scraped up or anything, it was just hanging down quietly minding its own business. She was wearing a green dress and green shoes. She looked so fabulous, I was surprised Joe didn’t faint right there on the doormat. If he wasn’t going to fall for her, I’d just have to do the decent thing and found a fan club for her myself. I’d already decided that when I grew up, my gang would be called ‘The Hellcats’ in her honour.
‘Good evening!’ said Holly with a pouty smile. ‘I’m looking for a Mr J. Rogers and his devoted sister Ruby.’
‘Never heard of them,’ said Joe. ‘Clear off or I’ll set the dogs on you.’
‘Come in, Holly!’ I said. ‘Would you like a Coke and some Doritos?’
‘Thank goodness somebody’s got some manners here!’ said Holly, tripping lightly over the thresh-hold.
‘You smell nice,’ I said.
‘It’s Calvin Klein,’ said Holly. ‘And thanks, I will have some Doritos, though not Coke. It rots your teeth.’
‘Joe could make you a cappucino,’ I said. ‘We’ve got a machine.’
We all went into the kitchen. I wasn’t quite sure what to do. Holly’s eyes looked kind of sparkly, and I wondered if she had really come to see Joe, and whether I should make an excuse and go off to my tree house upstairs. But although I adored my tree house more than anything else in the world, I wanted to stay with Holly.
Besides, Joe seemed even more useless than usual when she was around. Even now he was fumbling with the coffee beans and spilling some on the floor. Ultimately, though, he got it organised, and we went and sat down in the lounge.
‘OK,’ said Holly. ‘Do you want the good news or the bad news?’
‘The bad news,’ said Joe. ‘Don’t bother with good news, it’s always such a cliché.’
‘What’s a cliché?’ I asked.
‘Something very dull that everybody does,’ said Holly.
‘Well, I want the good news, even if he doesn’t,’ I said.
‘Well,’ said Holly, ‘the bad news is that you’re going to have to part with five of your beloved sculptures, Joe, because Mum’s sold them. Five! And we’re only halfway through the week.’ She reached inside her leather bag.
‘Here’s a cheque for three hundred and twenty smackeroonies.’ She handed it over with a glamorous grin. Joe looked at the cheque and went bright red.
‘You are now officially the richest boy in the area and will be pursued by hordes of bimbos,’ said Holly. ‘I, of course, prefer monkeys. Speaking of which – I’ve got something for you, Ruby.’
She handed over a parcel wrapped in starry blue paper. I ripped it open. It was a fabulous big book about monkeys.
‘My favourites are those Japanese monkeys who bathe in the hot springs while it’s snowing all around them,’ said Holly. ‘I’m not sure about the ones with bright red bottoms. I think they should be forced to wear cycling shorts.’
‘Oh, thanks so much, Holly!’ I said, flicking over the pages and drooling over the wonderful photos of monkeys having fun – mostly in the rainforest.
‘Well, I didn’t give you a proper birthday present,’ said Holly. ‘And we mustn’t have you getting jealous of Joe with his great wealth.’
‘We can’t all be art millionaires,’ I said. ‘I expect Joe’s told you – he thinks I’m a waste of space.’
‘What?!’ cried Holly, and she turned on Joe, showing her teeth like a tiger. ‘After all Ruby’s done to promote your career? Joe Rogers, you are a total dork!’
‘I didn’t mean it unkindly,’ said Joe, squirming slightly on the sofa. ‘When I described her as a waste of space, I meant it in the nicest possible way.’
‘Oh, that’s all right, then,’ I said and whacked his knee with a teaspoon. He ignored me, but in the nicest possible way. It seemed our relationship was improving.
There was a strange little pause. Holly fiddled with her hair. Joe fiddled with his trainers.
‘So … what are your plans for the summer, maestro?’ asked Holly.
‘My parents were giving me a hard time about getting a job,’ said Joe with a sly grin. ‘But I won’t have to now.’ He waved his cheque.
‘Oh, right,’ said Holly. She looked really disappointed for a moment. ‘Because they’re recruiting new staff at the place where Zerrin and I work. I said I’d ask you if you were available. I know it’s mind-numbing torture, but it pays well and we have the best time.’
‘Er …’ said Joe, looking doubtful. Go for it, go for it, you idiot! I thought. It was so obvious that Holly was mad about him, and wanted an excuse to see more of him, and here he was mumbling and frowning as if she’d asked him to eat concrete in the pouring rain. ‘I dunno …’ he said. ‘I’m so lazy. Doesn’t really sound like my thing.’
‘Oh, come on!’ said Holly. ‘Don’t tell me you’re too grand to pack airline lunches!’ Joe shrugged.
‘Maybe …’ he stalled. ‘Maybe that’s just what I am,’ he said. ‘Local Artist Allergic to Honest Work. Getting Up Early Ruins the Creative Process.’
‘Well, stuff it. Don’t then,’ said Holly. Just for a split second, she looked really cross and embarrassed. I wondered if Joe was only saying no because I was there. Maybe I should go up to my tree house right now. I got up.
‘Where are you going?’ said Holly. ‘Sit down, Ruby. You mustn’t miss this. Since his Lordship is in the mood for newspaper headlines, get a load of this one.’ And she pulled a newspaper from her bag and threw it across to him.
There he was, on the front page! There was a photo of him standing next to Holly’s mum and holding one of his sculptures.
The headline was: ‘Local Art Student Wins Praise from London Critics.’ It said that famous arty people from London had visited the show and said Joe was the new Leonardo da Vinci – well, more or less.
Joe was speechless for a moment. He went a bit pink. His blushing mechanism was certainly working overtime. I grinned at Holly and pulled a face which meant: my brother, though described as the new da Vinci, is in some respects the lowest form of life.
Holly gave me a smile and did something cute with her eyebrows which showed she agreed totally.
‘OK, then, Ruby,’ she said. ‘Take me up to that tree house of yours. I’ve had enough hassle for one day.’
I took her up to my tree house. Joe stayed downstairs. I heard him switch on the DVD again. He’s such a plonker. Holly and I sat up in my tree house, sharing the Doritos and making monkey noises. Downstairs, there was the occasional screech and horrid murderous gurgle as Joe festered with his TV zombies.
It was quite clear what my next secret plan was going to have to be: getting my idiot brother off that sofa and into the arms of the divine Miss Hell. Still, it was exactly the kind of work that appealed to me. So I was determined to have it all sorted by … oh, I don’t know. Maybe the middle of next week?
First published in Great Britain in 2006 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
36 Soho Square, London, WID 3QY
This electronic edition published in Oct 2011 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
Text copyright © Sue Limb 2006
Illustrations copyright © Bernice Lum 2006
The moral rights of the author and illustrator have been asserted
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make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means
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may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages
A CIP catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 9 781 4088 1640 0
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