all three together in a quivering sandwich.
‘Now that one,’ I say, pointing to the claw machine.
The slightly larger chair has fastened itself round a fluffy dragon and is squeezing hard.
‘Those things are impossible,’ says Eric. ‘They never work.’
‘Hold this.’ I hand him the pile of twitching tubs and grab another pound coin from my pocket.
‘Have you only got one left?’ asks Eric.
I nod, slot the pound coin in and focus on the claw controls.
‘Are you any good at this?’ he asks.
‘Yes,’ I lie.
I’ve never actually managed to get anything before, but the deckchair has released the dragon and is flipping around inside the machine and the moment I lower the claw it clamps on to one of the open jaws.
‘Quick,’ says Eric.
Holding my breath I raise the claw andsteer it over the tray.
It dangles there, still inside the machine, swinging and snapping.
‘Give it a shove,’ I say.
Eric thumps the machine, and the chair sways, swings and gives up its hold. It falls, wriggling and squeaking, until it wedges itself in the slot.
I grab it, pinching it shut while it flexes and squeals.
I feel 88% good, because I’m 12% worried about what to do with it next.
We step out of the arcade. ‘Now what?’ says Eric. ‘We can’t drown them – they’ll float.’
‘No – and I can’t shrink them either, there’s no point.’
‘Jacob,’ we say to each other at the same time.
18
Kind of Cute
Going begging to Jacob doesn’t come naturally.
‘Do you mean you need me?’ he says, standing in his front doorway in pants and a vest, rubbing his enormous stomach.
‘Yup,’ I say. ‘We do.’
The deckchairs in the tubs are wibbling and squirming under Eric’s fingers. The bigger one is trying hard to escape.
‘We need you to destroy these,’ says Eric, nodding at the tubs.
‘How badly do you need me?’ asks Jacob.
Eric and I look at each other. ‘Quite badly,’ I say.
‘Yes,’ says Eric. ‘Quite badly.’
‘Badly enough to be really nice to me?’
‘I don’t know,’ I say. ‘What were you thinking of?’
‘Nice words, perhaps?’
There’s a massive kick from the deckchair I’m holding that I only just manage to hang on to.
‘You’re fantastic, marvellous, extraordinary,’ I say.
‘Talented, gifted, fairly remarkable,’ says Eric.
‘Fairly remarkable?’ says Jacob. ‘Only fairly ?’
‘Utterly remarkable,’ I say.
‘Hmm,’ says Jacob. He rubs his stomach and it moves under his hand in a rolling wave. ‘OK,’ he says. ‘I’ll do it.’
* * *
I’ve never been in Jacob’s house before. It’s not how I expected. Because his mum is big and pink and marshmallowy, I thought that the house would be the same. A grown-up version of the kind of thing Tilly would like.
But it’s not like that at all. It’s modern and white and clean-lined and really quite nice. Or it would be if the sitting room wasn’t basically just a huge TV set.
We go up to Jacob’s bedroom, which is exactly what I expected, crammed full of technology and old crisp packets. Jacob empties a load of sweet wrappers from a tin onto the floor.
‘You can’t do that,’ says Eric.
‘S’all right, Mum’ll tidy it up later.’
‘But …’ Eric begins.
I hold my hand up. Eric sighs and takes the top tub out of the column of tubs.
The little deckchair snaps upright and tries to get out, Eric tips the tub and the deckchair falls into the steep-sided metal tin.
‘Coo,’ says Jacob. ‘It’s like a little animal.’
‘Very like,’ says Eric, taking the next tub from the stack and dropping the next deckchair in.
We watch the two deckchairs lying down, standing up, snapping and trying to get out.
‘They’re like little tigers,’ I say.
‘Or crocodiles,’ says Eric, dropping the third one in.
I drop my bigger one in and it chases the other three round. Much like a sheepdog.
‘So what next?’ says Jacob.
‘We burn them,’ I say.
We all look down at the
‘Now that one,’ I say, pointing to the claw machine.
The slightly larger chair has fastened itself round a fluffy dragon and is squeezing hard.
‘Those things are impossible,’ says Eric. ‘They never work.’
‘Hold this.’ I hand him the pile of twitching tubs and grab another pound coin from my pocket.
‘Have you only got one left?’ asks Eric.
I nod, slot the pound coin in and focus on the claw controls.
‘Are you any good at this?’ he asks.
‘Yes,’ I lie.
I’ve never actually managed to get anything before, but the deckchair has released the dragon and is flipping around inside the machine and the moment I lower the claw it clamps on to one of the open jaws.
‘Quick,’ says Eric.
Holding my breath I raise the claw andsteer it over the tray.
It dangles there, still inside the machine, swinging and snapping.
‘Give it a shove,’ I say.
Eric thumps the machine, and the chair sways, swings and gives up its hold. It falls, wriggling and squeaking, until it wedges itself in the slot.
I grab it, pinching it shut while it flexes and squeals.
I feel 88% good, because I’m 12% worried about what to do with it next.
We step out of the arcade. ‘Now what?’ says Eric. ‘We can’t drown them – they’ll float.’
‘No – and I can’t shrink them either, there’s no point.’
‘Jacob,’ we say to each other at the same time.
18
Kind of Cute
Going begging to Jacob doesn’t come naturally.
‘Do you mean you need me?’ he says, standing in his front doorway in pants and a vest, rubbing his enormous stomach.
‘Yup,’ I say. ‘We do.’
The deckchairs in the tubs are wibbling and squirming under Eric’s fingers. The bigger one is trying hard to escape.
‘We need you to destroy these,’ says Eric, nodding at the tubs.
‘How badly do you need me?’ asks Jacob.
Eric and I look at each other. ‘Quite badly,’ I say.
‘Yes,’ says Eric. ‘Quite badly.’
‘Badly enough to be really nice to me?’
‘I don’t know,’ I say. ‘What were you thinking of?’
‘Nice words, perhaps?’
There’s a massive kick from the deckchair I’m holding that I only just manage to hang on to.
‘You’re fantastic, marvellous, extraordinary,’ I say.
‘Talented, gifted, fairly remarkable,’ says Eric.
‘Fairly remarkable?’ says Jacob. ‘Only fairly ?’
‘Utterly remarkable,’ I say.
‘Hmm,’ says Jacob. He rubs his stomach and it moves under his hand in a rolling wave. ‘OK,’ he says. ‘I’ll do it.’
* * *
I’ve never been in Jacob’s house before. It’s not how I expected. Because his mum is big and pink and marshmallowy, I thought that the house would be the same. A grown-up version of the kind of thing Tilly would like.
But it’s not like that at all. It’s modern and white and clean-lined and really quite nice. Or it would be if the sitting room wasn’t basically just a huge TV set.
We go up to Jacob’s bedroom, which is exactly what I expected, crammed full of technology and old crisp packets. Jacob empties a load of sweet wrappers from a tin onto the floor.
‘You can’t do that,’ says Eric.
‘S’all right, Mum’ll tidy it up later.’
‘But …’ Eric begins.
I hold my hand up. Eric sighs and takes the top tub out of the column of tubs.
The little deckchair snaps upright and tries to get out, Eric tips the tub and the deckchair falls into the steep-sided metal tin.
‘Coo,’ says Jacob. ‘It’s like a little animal.’
‘Very like,’ says Eric, taking the next tub from the stack and dropping the next deckchair in.
We watch the two deckchairs lying down, standing up, snapping and trying to get out.
‘They’re like little tigers,’ I say.
‘Or crocodiles,’ says Eric, dropping the third one in.
I drop my bigger one in and it chases the other three round. Much like a sheepdog.
‘So what next?’ says Jacob.
‘We burn them,’ I say.
We all look down at the
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