Mum dressed up too, changing from her checked trousers and white top into her best blue dress with the low neck and the tight patent belt, and she even wore her own high heels. We were so used to her in practical work clothes that she seemed like a glamorous stranger.
‘You look so pretty, Mum!’ I said.
‘Don’t talk nonsense,’ said Mum, but she looked pleased.
‘It’s not nonsense at all,’ said Dad. ‘You’re as 212
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pretty as a picture. And so are you, birthday girl.
And you too, Jodie pet. My three best girls, all of them little crackers.’
‘Then you’d better measure up, Joe. You can’t come to Pearl’s party in your work clothes! Get changed quick – best shirt, and wear a tie.’
‘Oh come on, Shaz, it’s only a party for the little-uns.’
‘ Sharon! Mr Wilberforce will probably look in, and Miss Ponsonby and that Frenchie, all sticking their noses in.’
‘Do we have to have them too?’ I asked, horrified.
‘If they’re coming, then I can’t see why Jed can’t come,’ said Jodie. ‘I bet he’s good at all sorts of games!’
‘Stop that silly talk, Jodie. The others will just be there for the birthday tea. I dare say they’ll clear off afterwards while you’re all playing.’ Mum looked at her watch. ‘Right, Pearl. You’d better go into the dining hall. Your guests will be arriving soon.’
My stomach clenched. ‘Oh, Mum! I don’t want to.
I don’t know what to say to them. I don’t want this party. Please, can’t I just stay here till it’s over?’ I begged.
‘Don’t be so silly,’ said Mum. ‘Of course you have to go to your own party!’
‘You’ll have a lovely time, pet, you’ll see,’ said Dad.
Jodie put her arm round me. ‘I’ll come with you, Pearl. It’s OK. I’ll look after you. You’re going to have a great time, I promise you.’
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We had to gallop the length of the dining room, hee-hawing at the top of our voices.
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15
I clung to Jodie gratefully. We walked down the corridor, through the kitchen and into the dining room. I stood still, my heart thumping. Mum and Dad had put up a banner saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY
PEARL. There were pink and white balloons taped to either end of the long table. The party food was laid out on pink plates. It was old-fashioned storybook party food: tiny sandwiches; sausages on sticks; fairy cakes; gleaming red and green jellies; a big bowl of creamy trifle studded with cherries.
‘Ah, bless,’ said Jodie, snatching up a sandwich and several sausages.
‘We’re not supposed to eat anything yet,’ I said.
‘It’s your party. You can eat your own food when you want,’ said Jodie, dipping her finger in the trifle and having a big lick of cream. ‘Yum! Try a bit!’
‘I don’t actually feel like eating. I feel sick,’ I said.
‘You are so weird,’ said Jodie. ‘Are you shivering?’
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She briskly rubbed the goose pimples on my arms. ‘There, let’s warm you up a bit. Wait till you’ve played some of my party games. You’ll be warm as toast then.’
‘I really really really don’t want to play party games,’ I said.
But then Harley came striding into the dining room, looking astonishing. He was wearing a bizarre black felt wizard’s hat, the plum silk smoking jacket from the attics upstairs, and his own too-short jeans, showing his socks, one scarlet, one canary yellow.
‘Good God, it’s a clown,’ said Jodie.
Harley ignored her, took off his wizard’s hat with a flourish and bowed low. ‘Happy birthday, Pearl. I am Harley, purveyor of excellent, instructive and original party games. This is my magical wizard’s hat – and lo and behold, here is your birthday present lurking inside.’
He held the hat out to me. I felt inside the silk lining and found a long narrow package tied up in brown paper and string.
‘Fancy party packaging,’ said Jodie.
I undid the string, unwrapped the paper and found a long black object inside.
‘What is it?’ said Jodie.
I flicked the switch and it lit up.
‘A torch! Well, that’s a weird present. Why on earth would Pearl want a torch?’ said Jodie.
‘I think it’s a wonderful present. Thank you, Harley,’ I said.
‘If you should ever find yourself out in the dark for any reason, I hope the torch will come in handy,’
said Harley.
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‘Oh yeah, that’s so likely,’ said Jodie. ‘Look, I’ve got all the party games sussed out, Harley.’
Miss Ponsonby seemed to think she was in charge of party games. She was carrying a big basket when she brought Zeph and Sakura and Dan to the dining hall. There were wrapped packages for prizes, a blindfold, and a big painting of a donkey with a separate droopy wool tail.
‘I painted the donkey’s bottom,’ said Zeph.
They’d all painted me cards too. Zeph had daubed me another donkey eating an enormous orange carrot. He had a speech bubble saying, Hee-haw Happy Birthday.
‘It says Hee-haw – Hee-haw, you know, like a donkey!’ said Zeph.
He was still damp from a scrubbing in the bath, but his hands were still ghostly grey with paint. He wore a white T-shirt, red shorts and red strappy sandals. He also wore a tartan bow tie on a piece of elastic. He kept snapping it proudly.
Sakura had written her ‘Happy Birthday’ in lettering so little I could barely read it. She’d drawn me a delicate picture of tiny things: butterflies; rabbits; kittens; dolls; necklaces; fans; small smiley suns. She pointed to each object with her finger, explaining them. She looked beautiful in her Japanese costume. She even had a flower clipped above her ear.
Surprisingly Dan wore flowers too, a long daisy chain round his neck like a garland. He had daisy-chain bracelets and even a daisy-chain anklet. His transparent man had his own daisy chain dangling down past his visible abdomen.
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unnecessarily. ‘I’ll make you one for your birthday if you like, Pearl.’
‘That would be lovely, Dan, but I’ve already got my new necklace and my new bracelet. But thank you. Your daisy chains look lovely on you.’
He did look very cute, especially as the flowers looked so incongruous with his blue and white striped dungarees. He’d drawn a picture of himself on his card, his blue stripes added so enthusiastically that he’d poked several holes in the paper.
He’d drawn daisies at each corner and a carefully crayoned message: Hapy Burday Purl X X X.
‘Undie said I’ve spelled it wrong. She said I should have waited and asked her,’ said Dan.
‘I like it spelled just the way it is,’ I said. ‘It’s a lovely card. Thank you for all your lovely cards.’
‘Can we start eating now?’ said Zeph, eyeing the table.
‘We’re going to play a few party games first,’ said Jodie.
‘Oh yes, we’ve got to pin the tail on my donkey,’
said Zeph, clapping his stained hands.
‘I’ve got much better games,’ said Jodie. ‘Take your pick: Ghosts or Murder or the Deadly Dare game.’
‘Maybe we’ll play your games after tea, Jodie,’
said Dad, hurrying into the dining room in his best blue shirt and grey trousers. ‘We don’t want the little ones getting so over-excited they can’t eat their tea.’
So we played Miss Ponsonby’s traditional party games first. We all took it in turns to be blindfolded and pin the tail on the d
onkey. The three little ones tried hard, all of them managing to locate the 218
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donkey’s big bottom. I could have placed the tail in a perfect position, but I stuck it on the donkey’s back so that one of the little ones could win.
Jodie and Harley didn’t take the game seriously either. Harley stuck the tail behind the donkey’s ear so that he looked as if he’d grown a plait. Jodie stuck the tail underneath the donkey, between its legs, so that it stuck out suggestively. Zeph and Sakura and Dan collapsed with laughter. Miss Ponsonby sighed.
‘Now then, Jodie, play the game properly,’ said Dad, giving her a nudge.
‘I am,’ said Jodie. ‘If you can call it a game. Now what happens?’
‘That’s it,’ said Miss Ponsonby huffily. ‘Dan’s the winner.’
‘ I want to be the winner,’ said Zeph. ‘It’s my donkey. I painted it.’
‘No, look, I’m the closest, I’m the winner!’ Dan shouted excitedly. He leaped up and down, his daisy chains bouncing on his chest.
‘It’s not fair though. I pinned the tail on the donkey’s bottom too,’ Zeph said, clenching his fists.
‘I really really really want to be the winner,’ said Dan, his face crumpling.
‘I think you’re the one getting the children over-excited, Miss Ponsonby,’ said Jodie.
‘I think we’d better have a donkey race to decide who’s the winner,’ said Harley. ‘OK, I’ll be your donkey, Dan. Jump up on my back. Zeph, you have Jodie. And Sakura, you have Pearl. OK, folks, Donkey Derby time.’
Harley lined us up, and then when he shouted,
‘ Carrot! ’ we had to gallop the length of the dining 219
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room, hee-hawing at the top of our voices. It was so ridiculous that Harley and Jodie and I could barely stagger for laughing, let alone gallop. Jodie fell off her red heels and collapsed in a heap with Zeph.
Harley ran on ahead on his great long legs but Dan dropped his transparent man and insisted they go back to retrieve him. So I galloped past them, light little Sakura on my back, and we won!
Miss Ponsonby gave us both a prize – a little bar of chocolate.
‘I want some chocolate too because I was the real winner,’ said Zeph.
‘I think you’ll win the next game,’ said Harley.
‘You’ve all got a chance of winning. It’s Pass the Parcel,’ said Miss Ponsonby. ‘Sit down cross-legged on the floor.’
‘Ooh, I’m beside myself with excitement,’ said Jodie, but she sat down willingly enough, though her skirt was way too tight and short for her to cross her legs decently.
Dad had his old CD player plugged in and we started solemnly passing the parcel round and round our circle while Abba sang ‘Dancing Queen’.
Each time Dad stopped the music, the person holding the parcel had to prise off the sellotape and rip away the paper. Jodie got bored and stood up and started jiggling around to the music as she passed the parcel. Zeph and Sakura and Dan copied her, jumping up and down. Harley stood up too and started doing a weird dance himself, thrusting his arms in the air and kicking his legs out sideways.
So I stood up too and bounced a little. It was suddenly becoming the funniest game ever.
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with, but actually joined in herself. Even Dad did a little twirl every time he started playing the track all over again. Mum was darting in and out with more sandwiches and jugs of orange squash. She looked startled to see us all dancing, but when she realized it was a proper party game, she twitched her hips and did a little step-tap routine as she dashed to and fro.
Sakura was the last one holding the parcel, now reduced to a tiny matchbox. It was crammed with little heart-shaped red sweets.
‘That’s not fair! Sakura won the last game!’ Zeph wailed.
‘Hand your sweets round, Sakura, that’s fair,’
said Dan.
‘I don’t want to hand them round, they’re too pretty. I want to keep them,’ said Sakura, snapping them shut in the matchbox.
We gave the boys our chocolate bars to shut them up. Then we played Musical Statues to more Abba, all of us leaping about crazily, circling each table.
Zeph hovered beside the tea table, his hand darting out every now and then.
‘Now, now, Zeph, don’t you dare touch until it’s properly tea time,’ said Miss Ponsonby.
‘Yes, naughty naughty!’ said Jodie, whirling past, but her hand darted out too and she secretly fed him several sausages.
Mr Wilberforce and Miss French came strolling in and we all froze, even though Abba went on singing ‘Knowing me, knowing you.’
‘Aha-aha!’ Mr Wilberforce sang, and he joined in jumping.
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needed a sports bra if she was going to leap so ener-getically. Then Dad stopped the music and we all froze into statues. Miss Ponsonby judged who moved first. She kindly ignored Zeph’s wobbles and Dan’s wriggles, trying to catch Sakura out, as she’d won all the games so far. But Sakura was a brilliant statue, standing absolutely still, scarcely even blinking. The boys tickled her but she still didn’t move a muscle. She was better than any of us, even Mr Wilberforce. She ended up with her third prize, a tiny thumb-sized white statue of a cherub.
‘You can play he’s a baby and make him a little cot out of the matchbox,’ I said.
‘My, all that dancing has given me a raging thirst,’ said Mr Wilberforce, mopping his brow with a big hankie. ‘Do you think I could pour myself a glass of squash?’
‘I’ve put the kettle on for a nice pot of Earl Grey for the grown-ups,’ said Mum. ‘It’ll be ready in two ticks – and then we can start on the birthday tea.
Pearl, dear, you sit in the middle of the bench as it’s your party.’
I sat down with Jodie on one side of me and Harley on the other. Zeph and Sakura and Dan sat opposite. Zeph reached out both hands and grabbed a fairy cake in each.
‘No, Zeph, wait!’ Miss Ponsonby hissed.
‘What are we waiting for?’ said Zeph. ‘I want my cakes!’
‘We’re waiting for another cake,’ said Jodie.
Mum came back into the dining room, proudly carrying a big birthday cake on her best pink glass plate. The cake was covered in white icing with Happy Birthday Pearl in swirly pink letters, and a 222
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pattern of pink and silver balls and little rosebuds
– but Mum had tied a black velvet ribbon round the cake as decoration.
She set it in front of me and lit the candles and then started singing, with Dad conducting.
‘Happy birthday to you!’
Jodie and Harley joined in. Zeph and Sakura and Dan sang too. Mr Wilberforce and Miss French sang, his voice very deep and hers very high and warbling. I sat still, my heart thumping, hating all the attention and worried that I wouldn’t be able to blow the candles out in one go. I took a deep breath and blew hard and then closed my eyes to make a wish.
I wish Harley and I could see a badger again!
‘Why have you got your eyes closed, Pearl?’ said Dan.
‘Ssh, she’s making a wish,’ said Jodie. ‘She can’t tell you or it won’t come true.’
‘Oh go on, tell, tell!’ said Zeph.
‘She can’t. I know, but I know everything,’ said Jodie. She smiled at me.
She thought I’d wished my usual wish: I wish Jodie and I stay best friend sisters for ever and ever.
I smiled back, but my heart was thumping. She didn’t know everything about me nowadays. I couldn’t help feeling guilty that I’d used my wish on Harley. I argued inside my head that I didn’t need to say the sister wish because of course we?
??d stay best friends for ever anyway, no matter what.
‘Can I have a wish?’ said Zeph. ‘I wish it’s time to eat!’
‘OK, son, tuck in,’ said Dad, helping him to sandwiches and then passing the plate to the grown-ups.
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They stood around snacking on sandwiches and slices of birthday cake while we sat and ate unsu-pervised. Zeph was in seventh heaven, steadily lobbing cakes, sausages and sandwiches into his mouth. Dan ate more cautiously, peeling back the bread to examine the contents of every sandwich, and then cutting off small square portions for his transparent man. Sakura concentrated on her slice of birthday cake, delicately nibbling the icing, sucking each silver ball and licking the butter cream.
Harley and Jodie ate steadily, both talking to me at once. I tried to keep track of each conversation and nodded at appropriate moments, feeling as if I was at a tennis match.
‘Eat up, birthday girl!’ said Mum, darting over to pour more orange squash. ‘Do you like the cake, darling?’
‘It’s lovely.’
‘There! And you’re enjoying your party, aren’t you? I knew you’d have fun playing all the party games,’ said Mum happily.
There were more games after tea but these were more of a trial. Mr Wilberforce and Miss French wandered off and Miss Ponsonby went into the kitchen with Mum, discussing cake recipes. Dad was left in charge. He bounced up and down wearing his jolly face, suggesting a game of Musical Bumps.
‘Purr- lease, Dad, Zeph and Dan have just stuffed themselves silly. They’ll be sick if they start jumping up and down,’ said Jodie. ‘No, we’ll play one of my games now. The Deadly Dare Game. OK, Pearl, it’s your birthday so you have to go first.
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Who’s got a dare for Pearl? You have to be willing to do the dare yourself if Pearl can’t or won’t – and then she has to take off an item of clothing.’
‘What?’ I said.
‘This sounds a really intellectually challenging game,’ said Harley.
‘You shut up. Right, Pearl, I dare you to kiss the boy you like best in this room,’ said Jodie.