I opened the window a crack in case it was me she was sniffing, although I’m sure it was just her way of showing her disapproval. That’s when I heard Uncle Ron telling Dad that Auntie Sheila wants to get rid of the caravan because he likes to go and watch the football and drink beer in there.
Uncle Ron said there was a couple round yesterday looking at it, but he managed to put them off by telling them there was a slight problem with death-watch beetle in the roof but nothing that a good fumigation wouldn’t sort out, which might get rid of the flea problem at the same time. He said he’d never seen anyone move so fast in such a confined space and they’d gone before Auntie Sheila had even come out from the house.
Uncle Ron told her that the couple had taken one look at the caravan and said it was too small. It’s a five-berth so Auntie Sheila was suspicious. He doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to stop her from selling it. That means this could be our last holiday in the caravan. In other words, this could be the last year we get to go on holiday.
It only took forty-five minutes to get to the campsite. Dad gets nervous pulling the caravan so we never go further than Weston-super-Mare.
I think Mum is beginning to wish that she had left Chelsea in Bristol. I know I am. She’s making everyone’s life hell. She’s in a massive sulk and when she does say anything it’s in a really grumpy voice. Spencer and I are trying to involve her because we’re hoping she’ll snap out of it soon, but if it goes on much longer we might have to go off without her.
Not that there’s much to do round here.
Last year we stayed on a campsite that had an indoor swimming pool and a bar and a games room and evening entertainment. This year we had to take what we could get at such short notice so this campsite is pretty basic. It’s got toilets and shower blocks, a laundry room and a shop. That’s it. But you can walk into Weston-super-Mare from here so I suppose that’s a plus. At least we’re not stuck out in the countryside with nothing to do.
We walked along the sea-front and went down onto the beach for a bit but it was too cold to really enjoy it. I was dead offended when Dad asked me if I wanted a ride on the donkeys. How old does he think I am? I did sort of wish I could go on them, though. It’s a family tradition, having a ride on the donkeys. And now we’re all too old and it made me kind of sad.
We found an amusement arcade and Dad gave us some money for the machines and he and Mum went to sit out at the café next door. Spencer spent most of his on the big shooting games and the bike racing machines. I like going on the Penny Falls and I could spend hours just slotting my money in. Chelsea stood about looking bored and wouldn’t have a go on anything.
When we got back to the caravan Chelsea nabbed the top bunk. There’s a curtain that we can pull across. Mum and Dad sleep on the sofa which they make into a bed at night. There’s another seat that makes into a bed for Spencer. Dad says he’ll put the awning up tomorrow so we’ll have more room.
Monday August 23rd
Dad was up really early, wrestling with the awning. It’s up now so we had breakfast in there. We decided to go to Wookey Hole today, but when Mum went to get Chelsea out of bed she claimed she was dying from period pains and couldn’t go anywhere. In the end, Mum decided she’d be okay on her own for the day and we went without her. I think everyone was a bit relieved really. At least we don’t have to put up with her long face all day. So I didn’t tell anyone she was lying because I know she had her period two weeks ago. Ihaven’t started mine yet but I do know that no one has one every two weeks.
Spencer and I had a real laugh at Wookey. We all went down into the caves and Spencer and I hung around at the back laughing at the tour guide because he looked like a troll and we thought he’d probably been born and raised in the caves. After that we all played crazy golf and then Mum and Dad settled down in the café and Spencer and I went to the amusements. We were way too old for most of them but we had a laugh at the magic mirrors. I especially liked the one that made me look really tall with legs up to my armpits. Then we looked at all these old penny arcade machines they had in there. Those Victorians had some funny ideas of what’s amusing. At least three of them showed executions -hangings, heads being chopped off and even an electric chair. I thought they were creepy and horrid. Spencer couldn’t get enough of them though, so I left him to it and told him I’d meet him in the shop. Then, just as I was leaving, I saw a dusty old machine hidden away in the corner of the room. In the glass case was the top half of a gypsy woman behind a crystal ball. It was a really bad, unconvincing model made of papier måché which had sort of disintegrated because it was so old and it made the gypsy woman look like she had a hideous skin condition, but something about the way the machine was all alone in the dark corner drew me to it.
Let Gypsy Ginny tell your Fortune. She’s Never Wrong.
I thought about going to get Spencer so we could have a laugh together, but I was worried that he’d just dismiss it as complete rubbish and I wanted my fortune told. I had my twenty pence piece out and was about to put it in the machine when I noticed that it said, Please insert One Penny.
Wow, that’s cheap, I was thinking as I scrabbled about for a penny in the bottom of my pocket. I was about to slot the tiny coin into the big slot when I stopped and realised it must mean an old penny. I was about to give up and go away but then I thought that a two pence piece is nearly the same size as an old penny. What was the worst that could happen? I’d put my two pence piece in and it would do nothing? It wasn’t exactly going to break the bank. But then, when I’d dropped it in, I panicked that I was going to jam the machine and get into trouble. I looked around and sure enough there was an attendant lurking at the other side of the hall. I slid into a shadow and tried to look invisible until he’d gone.
Just then, the flaky old woman inside the cabinet sprang to life and with one jerky movement, like some sort of zombie, she flung her hands up to the crystal ball. My heart did a double backflip; I hadn’t expected the thing to actually move! Then the machine spat out a card from a slot at the bottom. I’d just grabbed it when the attendant came up.
‘You can’t use that one,’ he said, stepping between me and the machine. ‘It doesn’t work. It’s going for restoration.’
I slipped the card with my fortune on it into my pocket and sidled away.
Tuesday 24th August
Today was a bit boring. Dad and Spencer went fishing and Chelsea, now miraculously free of any period pains, went off with a girl called Zoé she met on the site. Zoé is the daughter of the site managers and they live in a bungalow near the entrance. They didn’t invite me to join them so Mum and I had a quiet day reading. I tried to text Lauren but when I pressed the send button it said I didn’t have enough credit, so I settled down with The Secret Garden instead. I skipped the beginning bit where Mary’s mum dies because it always makes me cry.
In the afternoon I made a start on my diary homework and because nothing much happened today I wrote a load of facts about Weston-super-Mare that I got off some leaflets Dad had picked up at reception. I’ll cut some of the pictures out and stick them in when we get home. It makes me laugh to think I’m writing a fake diary as well as my real one.
Wednesday 25th August
Today seemed like it was going to be even worse because it rained really hard all day and nobody could be bothered to do anything. We were all beginning to get on top of each other and, when Mum got a board game out, Chelsea instantly disappeared to see Zoé.
The rest of us played the board game and then cards until lunchtime. I thought it was great fun and wanted to carry on after lunch, but Dad retreated behind his newspaper and Mum got out her word-search book. Spencer grabbed his Gameboy and flopped down on the bottom bunk because his bed had been made back into a seat. I was about to complain and tell him it was my bed but decided I couldn’t be bothered, so I climbed onto the top bunk. It was covered in Chelsea’s random junk; magazines, make-up and chewing gum littered the sleeping bag. I started to
push everything down the end so I could get comfy with my book. A tube of lip gloss fell off and Spencer caught it.
‘No thanks,’ he said, passing it back up.’I’m trying to give it up.’
‘How about a copy of Hello magazine?’ I offered. ‘Or a piece of chewing gum, or . . .’I sniggered,’ how about a photo of Josh?’
‘Let’s see,’ Spencer said and I handed him the photo I’d found under Chelsea’s pillow.
Spencer and I like to have a laugh at what a typical teenager Chelsea is. I’m not officially a teenager until my next birthday when I’ll be thirteen. I’m secretly terrified that I’ll wake up one morning and start behaving like Chelsea. This would mean I’d start arguing with everyone, sulking, going off in a huff and texting my friends all day. Not to mention the time I’d spend thinking about my clothes and what all the boys in my year at school think of me. Spencer says that it’s a myth that all teenagers behave that way and that he doesn’t think I’ll be like that. God, I hope he’s right.
Spencer said I go too far the other way and, whereas Chelsea only ever thinks about herself, I spend way too much time thinking about everyone else and worrying about them and that I really need to lighten up. I’m sure he’s right because Grumps said something similar to me a while ago. He said I had an old head on young shoulders.
Spencer handed back the photo and I replaced it under Chelsea’s pillow so she wouldn’t know we’d seen it.
‘What gorgeous specimen of manhood do you keep under your pillow?’said Spencer, groping about under there.
‘What’s this?’ he said, holding up the card from the arcade machine. It must have fallen out of my pocket when I got undressed and ended up under there. I made a swipe for it but I wasn’t quick enough so I had to explain about the creepy machine I’d found at Wookey Hole the other day.
Spencer looked at the yellowing card and read,’ Gypsy Ginny says: Your wishes might come true so be careful what you wish for.’
We were both silent for a minute while we thought about what this meant.
‘I wish it had said I grant you three wishes, or something,’ I said to Spencer. ‘That’s just pointless. What does it even mean?’
‘I think it’s some kind of Chinese proverb,’ said Spencer, who always seems to know everything. ‘It means you might think you know what you want but what you want isn’t necessarily what’s good for you. You know, like King Midas who wished that everything he touched would turn to gold. And then he couldn’t eat anything because his food turned to gold and when he hugged his wife she turned to gold as well. It was a real bummer.’
I listened to the rain beating down on the caravan roof and said,’ Well, that’s just stupid. I know exactly what I want. For starters, I wish we could afford a better holiday, somewhere hot and sunny, and I wish I had a bedroom of my own and I wish you weren’t the cleverest boy in school so that you didn’t keep getting beaten up.’ I added the last bit because I didn’t want all my wishes to be for myself.
Spencer looked offended. ‘I don’t keep getting beaten up,’ he said.
‘Okay then, picked on,’ I amended, to make him feel better.
Thursday 26th August
This morning Chelsea announced that she was going out for the day with Zoé. They were going to the cinema and she’d see us later, she said. I was really put out that she didn’t invite me to go along.
I’ve found out that Zoé is only thirteen so she’s nearer to my age than Chelsea’s. Chelsea is always going on about how I’m too young to hang out with her. It’s really not fair. It’s only because Zoé looks sixteen because she’s so tall and wears so much make-up. Mind you, even ifI wasn’t so small and didn’t look about ten, Chelsea probably still wouldn’t want to hang around with me, just because I’m her sister.
At least it had stopped raining so, after breakfast, the rest of us went into Weston-super-Mare. It was a bit depressing. The pier was closed because it had burnt down and was still being re-built.
After lunch we were mooching around the shops when I spotted Zoé. I followed her into Dorothy Perkins expecting to see Chelsea as well but Chelsea definitely wasn’t with her. In the end I went up to Zoé and asked her where Chelsea was.
‘How should I know?’ she said.
‘But I thought you two were going to the cinema together,’ I told her. That flummoxed her. I could almost see her brain working. Should she deny all knowledge of knowing where Chelsea was or should she go along with the pretence?
In the end she said, in a bored sort of voice,’ We went to the cinema but we couldn’t agree on what to watch so Chelsea went in on her own.’
‘Oh yeah,’ I said,’ Chelsea loves going to the cinema on her own.’
Zoé looked so relieved, I had real trouble not laughing.
‘There you go then,’ she said and wandered off. I watched her go, wondering what the hell Chelsea was playing at. She would never go to the cinema on her own. Chelsea never does anything on her own if she can help it. She likes an audience too much. She’s always surrounded by friends.
Then it occurred to me that she doesn’t seem to have one special friend. Not like I’ve got Lauren. I think she’d like Sophie to be her special friend but Sophie’s got Amber and the truth is Sophie is way out of her league, not that it stops Chelsea trying to get in with that crowd. She only got invited to Sophie’s party because Josh asked her . . . then it hit me. Of course! It was today that Sophie was having her hot-tub party. Chelsea must have gone to it. She could easily have caught a train back to Bristol.
Mum and Dad are going to go mental when they find out. But then they’ll only find out if I tell them. So I’ll just have to keep quiet and hope that Chelsea doesn’t get carried away by the party and gets back before they notice.
It was a close one. About six o’clock I could see Mum getting twitchy. She kept looking at the clock. Dad wanted to eat out but Mum said we couldn’t go out in case Chelsea came back and couldn’t get into the caravan.
‘Did she say what time she was going to be back?’ asked Dad, looking at everyone. I shrugged.
‘I’ll find out,’ said Mum, picking up her phone and starting to text. Chelsea only communicates by text on her phone;she never talks to anyone on it. I really hoped she had it switched on. Dad gets grumpy when he’s hungry and I could see he wasn’t about to have his evening ruined by Chelsea. A minute later Mum’s phone bleeped.
‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘Chelsea’s gone bowling with her friend and she’ll see us back here. She says can we leave the key in one of the shoes in the awning.’
Dad wasn’t too happy about that, he’s very security conscious, but he agreed in the end because he wanted his dinner.
There was a heart-stopping moment when we went past the site managers’ bungalow and Zoé came out carrying a bin bag. Luckily she turned her back to put it in the bin and nobody else was taking any notice anyway.
When we got back after eating fish and chips on the sea-front, Chelsea was in bed pretending to be asleep. But there’s something wrong because I can hear her snuffling and she doesn’t have a cold. I wonder what happened to make her so upset. I’ll find out tomorrow.
Friday 27th August
Because it was the last day of the holidays, we went out in the car and ended up at Glastonbury. It had me and Spencer in hysterics; it had loads of witchy shops which sold weird things that you’d probably need if you were a witch. There were clothes shops selling velvet lined cloaks and black, floaty dresses. There were shops which sold cauldrons and ceremonial knives and one shop sold dried powders and unspeakable things in jars. It was seriously weird. I was pretending to myself that I was a Hogwarts student wandering round Hogsmead and I got so carried away I almost asked for a butterbeer when we went to a café for lunch.
The weather cleared up a bit so Dad and Spencer decided to climb Glastonbury Tor. I was tempted to go with them but I wanted to find out what had happened to Chelsea yesterday.
Mum said she wanted to lo
ok round the abbey and Chelsea groaned and said there was no way she was going to spend time staring at a pile of old stones. I would have liked to have gone with Mum because they say King Arthur is buried there and it’s kind of romantic. But I said I’d go with Chelsea who wasn’t too pleased but didn’t argue. It was like she was too depressed to bother. She walked off as if I wasn’t there and I was left to trail behind. Eventually she sat down on a bench and got her phone out. She was checking it for texts but I don’t think she had any. After a while I asked her what was up.
‘Nothing,’ she said, as I knew she would.
‘I know where you went yesterday,’ I told her,’ and it wasn’t to the cinema with Zoé. You sneaked off to Sophie’s party.’ That gave her a shock.
‘Do Mum and Dad know?’ she said, all panicked. But it was obvious they didn’t or all hell would have broken out.
‘Of course not,’ I said. ‘So what was it like then? Was it really good?’
Chelsea didn’t say anything. I was about to tell her that if she didn’t tell me all about it, I was going to tell Mum and Dad where she’d gone (not that I would, but Chelsea didn’t need to know that), but when I looked at her, I saw that she was trying not to cry. A tear had escaped and was about to fall off the end of her nose. I didn’t have the heart to threaten her when she was in that state and I was just resigning myself to the fact that I’d never know what had happened when she said, or rather squeaked,’ I got to the party - I was going to surprise Josh - but when I got there I found him in the hot-tub with Sophie and they were . . . they were . . .’ She couldn’t carry on and had got all snotty, so I rooted around in my pocket and found an old tissue. Chelsea took it gratefully which just goes to show what a state she was in.
Diary of a Lottery Winner's Daughter Page 2
