Blabber Mouth by Morris Gleitzman Page A

boots,’ he said, and squelched off into the Gents.
    I wrung my sock out and realised that about a hundred pairs of eyes were staring at me.
    As I was one of the attractions of the evening I decided I should try and get things back to normal.
    I picked up the bowl of avocado dip and a basket of Jatz and offered them around.
    Nobody took any.
    After a while I realised why.
    In the avocado dip was the impression of Mr Cosgrove’s face.
    It wasn’t a pretty sight.
    Then I looked up and saw an even less pretty sight.
    The real Mr Cosgrove’s face, red and furious, coming towards me.
    Mrs Cosgrove and Amanda were trying to restrain him, but he kept on coming.
    He stopped with his face so close to mine I could see the veins in his eyeballs and the coleslaw in his ears.
    â€˜I don’t want your family anywhere near my family,’ he said through gritted teeth, ‘and that includes you. Stay away from my daughter.’
    He turned and grabbed Amanda and headed for the door.
    Amanda gave me an anguished look as he pulled her away.
    There’s a horrible sick feeling in the guts you get when something awful’s happening and you can’t do anything about it.
    I got it the day Erin died.
    I got it tonight, watching Amanda being dragged away.
    Then I decided that tonight was different, because I could do something about it.
    Or at least try to.
    I ran round in front of Mr Cosgrove and stood between him and the door.
    â€˜You’re not being fair,’ I said.
    He stopped and glared at me.
    I said it again.
    Then I remembered he couldn’t understand hands.
    I looked frantically around for a pen.
    You can never find one when you need one.
    I’d just decided to go and grab the bowl and write it on the floor in avocado dip, when Amanda spoke up.
    â€˜You’re not being fair,’ she said.
    Mr Cosgrove stopped glaring at me and glared at her.
    â€˜Just because you and Dad can’t be friends,’ I said, ‘it doesn’t mean me and Amanda can’t be.’
    Amanda was watching my hands closely.
    â€˜Just because you and Mr Batts can’t be friends,’ she said to her father, ‘it doesn’t mean me and Ro can’t be.’
    Mr Cosgrove opened his mouth to say something angry to Amanda, but before he could speak, Mr Ricards from the hardware store did.
    â€˜She’s got a point, Doug,’ he said. ‘It’s like Australia and New Zealand and Tasmania and Stewart Island.’
    Mr Cosgrove glared at him.
    The other people standing nearby looked at each other, confused.
    Me and Amanda and Mrs Cosgrove weren’t sure what he was on about either.
    â€˜It’s like Homer and Ned and Bart and Tod,’ said Mr Ricards. ‘In “The Simpsons”.’
    The other people nodded.
    It was a good point.
    Mr Cosgrove obviously didn’t agree, because he glared at Mr Ricards again, and then at me.
    â€˜Stay away from her,’ he ordered, and stormed out.
    â€˜Mum,’ said Amanda, close to tears, ‘it’s not fair.’
    â€˜Don’t worry love,’ said Mrs Cosgrove, ‘he’ll probably calm down in a few days.’
    She turned to me.
    â€˜I don’t blame you love,’ she said, ‘but something has to be done about that father of yours.’
    She steered Amanda towards the door.
    â€˜It’s tragic,’ Mrs Cosgrove said to the people around her as she went. ‘That poor kid’s got two afflictions and I don’t know which is the worst.’
    Me and Amanda waved an unhappy goodbye.
    I tried to cheer myself up by thinking that at least I’d be able to see her at school. Unless Mr Cosgrove moved the whole family to Darwin. Or Norway. I didn’t think that was likely, not after he’d spent so many years building up the menswear shop.
    After a bit Dad came out of the Gents carrying his boots.
    â€˜Come on, Tonto,’ he said, ‘let’s go. I need to get a hose into