prettiest. Her eyes are extra big and beady and her ears are particularly exquisite, very soft and downy on the outside and the most beautiful delicate shell pink inside.”
“Daphne sounds lovely. Can she be the cleverest too, even though she's the youngest?”
“You bet. She's the cleverest in the whole class at mouse school. She's very artistic too. She can nibble at a hazelnut, chew chew chew with her sharp teeth and sculpt it into a little statue. She's famous for her wooden cats. She makes them with a roly-poly round base so they tip over with one flick of a paw or tail. All the little mouse babies love to play Tip the Cat.”
Marigold went on and on, talking faster and faster, making it all so real I could
see
the mice scampering in front of me. She could be so magic at making things up, much better than Star. Star would rarely play pretend games nowadays. She said she couldn't do it properly anymore. She'd try to pretend but she'd just feel a fool. She couldn't believe it anymore.
I was glad this new mouse game was just for Marigold and me. I realized how rarely we'd been on our own together. It felt wonderful. Marigold wasn'tsad or scary at all, she was the best fun ever. Star was so critical nowadays sh made Marigold nervous and twitchy. Marigold was just fine with me.
“I love you, Marigold,” I said, putting my arm round her slim waist.
“I love you too, Dolly Dolphin,” she said, and she hugged me close.
I could feel all the delicate bones of her rib cage through her smooth skin. I carefully patted her long thin arm with the new tattoo etched into her sharply pointed elbow. She seemed too lightly linked together, almost as fragile as the daisy chain round her ankle. Though that wasn't real. It was dyed into her skin forever. I liked the idea of it lasting.
We walked on until the brook became a park stream and we were picking our way through formal gardens. We were miles away from home. Marigold was still engrossed in telling her mouse saga. I didn't want to spoil things by reminding her of the time. Marigold always lived in the moment. She wasn't thinking about Star.
Star would have wondered why I hadn't met her after school. She'd have hung around awhile, then gone home. She'd be there now, wondering what had happened to Marigold and me, waiting and worrying. I knew how awful that was.
I tried hard to think about Dora and Daphne, laughing as Marigold became more outrageous, actingbeing a mouse herself, her nose twitching, teeth tucked over her lip, her hands curled into mouse paws‘but the thought of Star wouldn't go away.
“Star will be wondering where we are,” I said at last.
Marigold looked surprised. “I thought she had net-ball practice.”
“Yes, but it's nearly half past five now.”
“It's not!”
“And it'll take us hours to walk home.”
“We'll get a bus,” said Marigold, feeling in her pocket for change. She brought out the tissue containing the four-leaf clover and smiled.
The bus shelter was covered in posters for rock bands. Marigold was in the middle of describing Daphne's summer and winter outfits but she stopped short, distracted.
“What?” I said.
“Emerald City are doing a reunion gig! Oh God. Emerald City! I went to two of their concerts back in the eighties. They were Micky's favorite band.”
My tummy tightened. It was usually a danger sign if Marigold started talking about Micky. But she stared at the poster, dazzled. She had the clover in her hand, twirling it round and round in her fingers.
HEART
Star didn't speak to either of us when we got back. I knew she'd been frightened. Her eyes looked pink as if she might have been crying. I felt bad but I'd done my best to keep Marigold away so that Star wouldn't be embarrassed in front of her friends.
I whispered this plaintively in bed at night, but Star simply turned over with a contemptuous sniff. I couldn't stand it when she wouldn't speak to me. It made me feel as if I weren't there. I felt my cold
“Daphne sounds lovely. Can she be the cleverest too, even though she's the youngest?”
“You bet. She's the cleverest in the whole class at mouse school. She's very artistic too. She can nibble at a hazelnut, chew chew chew with her sharp teeth and sculpt it into a little statue. She's famous for her wooden cats. She makes them with a roly-poly round base so they tip over with one flick of a paw or tail. All the little mouse babies love to play Tip the Cat.”
Marigold went on and on, talking faster and faster, making it all so real I could
see
the mice scampering in front of me. She could be so magic at making things up, much better than Star. Star would rarely play pretend games nowadays. She said she couldn't do it properly anymore. She'd try to pretend but she'd just feel a fool. She couldn't believe it anymore.
I was glad this new mouse game was just for Marigold and me. I realized how rarely we'd been on our own together. It felt wonderful. Marigold wasn'tsad or scary at all, she was the best fun ever. Star was so critical nowadays sh made Marigold nervous and twitchy. Marigold was just fine with me.
“I love you, Marigold,” I said, putting my arm round her slim waist.
“I love you too, Dolly Dolphin,” she said, and she hugged me close.
I could feel all the delicate bones of her rib cage through her smooth skin. I carefully patted her long thin arm with the new tattoo etched into her sharply pointed elbow. She seemed too lightly linked together, almost as fragile as the daisy chain round her ankle. Though that wasn't real. It was dyed into her skin forever. I liked the idea of it lasting.
We walked on until the brook became a park stream and we were picking our way through formal gardens. We were miles away from home. Marigold was still engrossed in telling her mouse saga. I didn't want to spoil things by reminding her of the time. Marigold always lived in the moment. She wasn't thinking about Star.
Star would have wondered why I hadn't met her after school. She'd have hung around awhile, then gone home. She'd be there now, wondering what had happened to Marigold and me, waiting and worrying. I knew how awful that was.
I tried hard to think about Dora and Daphne, laughing as Marigold became more outrageous, actingbeing a mouse herself, her nose twitching, teeth tucked over her lip, her hands curled into mouse paws‘but the thought of Star wouldn't go away.
“Star will be wondering where we are,” I said at last.
Marigold looked surprised. “I thought she had net-ball practice.”
“Yes, but it's nearly half past five now.”
“It's not!”
“And it'll take us hours to walk home.”
“We'll get a bus,” said Marigold, feeling in her pocket for change. She brought out the tissue containing the four-leaf clover and smiled.
The bus shelter was covered in posters for rock bands. Marigold was in the middle of describing Daphne's summer and winter outfits but she stopped short, distracted.
“What?” I said.
“Emerald City are doing a reunion gig! Oh God. Emerald City! I went to two of their concerts back in the eighties. They were Micky's favorite band.”
My tummy tightened. It was usually a danger sign if Marigold started talking about Micky. But she stared at the poster, dazzled. She had the clover in her hand, twirling it round and round in her fingers.
HEART
Star didn't speak to either of us when we got back. I knew she'd been frightened. Her eyes looked pink as if she might have been crying. I felt bad but I'd done my best to keep Marigold away so that Star wouldn't be embarrassed in front of her friends.
I whispered this plaintively in bed at night, but Star simply turned over with a contemptuous sniff. I couldn't stand it when she wouldn't speak to me. It made me feel as if I weren't there. I felt my cold
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