Chapter 9
“Sorry,” Chloe apologised, blushing a little. “I didn’t know the time!”
“Oh well,” I piped up. “Why don’t we have another look round – really get our money’s worth!” I joked, starting to walk in the direction of the tigers.
“Oh well,” Sylvie and Chloe muttered, following reluctantly.
We didn’t obey the polite signs saying ‘please do not walk on the grass’ and strolled along, trampling the fine green grass underfoot. This was fine until it became dark.
“We’d better shelter for the night,” Chloe remarked, shivering in her glittery pink cardigan.
“Oh, Chloe, you should’ve taken your flipping coat! It’s not all about looking good, you know!”
“Sorry! Well, it’s not like you actually care about fashion, judging from your usual clothes style!” Chloe retorted back, hurting poor Sylvie with that stinging remark.
“Shut up!” she threatened, eyes steely and voice harsh.
I fell behind Sylvie, who was still upset about her undeserved retort. Chloe was very far back, meandering about carelessly. Running ahead to see Sylvie, I murmured, “Oh, Sylvie,” seeing her brimming eyes and bent head. Sorrowfully, her long hair fell over her tear-stained face, and she flicked it away half-heartedly. The goldfinch peeked out from her sleeve, cheeping mischievously.
I giggled, but then coaxed it out properly and cupped my hands carefully. The small bird hopped in, nestling up sweetly in the unexpected warmth.
An hour later, we were sitting down by a massive aviary of birds, tucked under a thick tarpaulin that was leaning against a stone wall. Nibbling at my squashed oatmeal cookie, I dreamed about living in the gutter here forever, unable to get out. I thought about Jess Cleves, who had been at the same school as I had, but was mercilessly teased by us. Now I wished I had been kinder to her.
“Oh my God!” Chloe breathed, staring at a flashing message on her phone.
“What on earth …” Sylvie trailed off suddenly, remembering they were not on speaking terms.
“Mark – he loves me! Oh, the darling, the darling, the darling! So sweet!” She pranced around our dank camp, singing Mark’s praises rapturously.
“Oh, for God’s sake!” Sylvie rolled her eyes, trying to send her up.
“Oh – the other news – the zoo doesn’t open on Monday,” Chloe went on, hardly caring.
“What?”
“We have to stay here tomorrow!”
“Chloe, stop teasing us!”
“I’m not – look!” She showed us an information sheet on her phone, with a notice in big red letters – ZOO CLOSED ON MONDAY. I felt torn in two.
“What …” My high-pitched, anxious voice tailed off helplessly. A lump in my throat hurt unbearably, but I was determined not to cry and swallowed hard.
“Right. How much food and money do we have?” Sylvie asked us nervously, searching in the rucksack and her black handbag. She only had a few loose fifty-pence pieces, lying neglected at the bottom of her bag.
“Wow!” Chloe exclaimed, miraculously seeing a £10 note fluttering around on the grass near us.
“Great!”
“Let’s get it!”
We all scrambled out of the humid camp, running on our stiff legs to catch up with the money. It had blown onto a rocky ledge, just out of our reach, a small bench below.
Without pausing, I leapt on to the bench eagerly, almost tipping it over in my haste. The ledge was just a few feet away. I breathed in anxiously, then jumped high with my eyes tightly closed in fear. I tried again, but still scraped my hands on the wall above.
“Try again, darling!” encouraged Sylvie, clapping and smiling proudly. Her goldfinch pet cheeped encouragingly too, flapping its wings a little too excitedly in the tight bundle of clothes Sylvie had made for it.
I did, but failed twice more. Just as I was about to give up, my fingers caught the top of the ridge and I hung in the air, centimetres away from the note.
“Well done, Sylvie,” Chloe said, gripping my waist protectively. “Go!”
Slowly but surely, I edged my fingers along the rough stone wall, one hand at a time. I got much closer, then suddenly reached out – and grabbed it! I called down, and Chloe swung me down again, lifting my feet over the metre drop.
“Thank you.” I turned to Chloe, handing her the note reluctantly.
“Great,” Sylvie said, laughing happily, back to her usual self.
We returned to the damp dark hideout, rummaging hopefully in our bags. Chloe produced a pack of cola bottles, a slightly hairy lollipop, orange juice and £3.62.
“Oh, look!” I exclaimed delightedly, finding two packets of salt-and-vinegar crisps, a bruised apple, raisins, a £5 note, and some strawberry laces.
“Fabulous!” Chloe eyed the strawberry laces enviously. “But, where are we going to buy food with the money?” she asked.
“No idea,” Sylvie replied, but saw the three different piles of food (she’d found pancakes, three Mars bars and three plums) in the twilight, and shared them out. “But we’ve got quite a lot – we’ll manage, I’m sure.”
“You’re sure?” mocked Chloe, but saw Sylvie was right.
“What about a late-night walk?” I suggested.
“OK! Cool idea!” Chloe got up, stretching her slim tanned arms and arching her flat stomach if she had an audience of a thousand.
“You two! No, I’m staying here,” Sylvie said obstinately, folding her arms. “I’m tired.”
We set off, blinking in the light. It was only twilight, but after the musty gloominess of our secret place, it was quite bright.
“Nice,” commented Chloe, sitting on some springy moss and relaxing.
I lay back too, but a long-legged spider scurried over my left leg and I leapt up, scared.
“Aww!” laughed Chloe.
All the cages and enclosures were padlocked securely, with the animals put to bed for the night. The big cats’ cages had been cleared out and the old straw chucked away, fresh bedding in place. We traipsed up the dark paths, staring at the glossy white moon. After a long half-hour, we headed back tired.
Sylvie lay very still, her good-looking face shadowy and grey-white in the eerie silvery black sky, her sweet smile a ghost of its usual self.
I slipped under her folds of the strong tarpaulin, cuddling up to her lovingly. I tried to drop off quickly, but the haunting calls of wildlife outside sent shivers down my spine, and the freezing cold wind stripped me to the bone. I lay there, shivering, for what seemed like hours. Finally, I sat up and rummaged in my bag, bringing out my silver phone. I’d ring Ellie!
“Hello? Who’s that?” Ellie asked. “It’s me, Sapphire. Can I speak to you for a bit?” I mused, seeing it was eleven thirty.
“Sure you can,” answered Ellie, yawning a little. “What about?”
“I’ve left the circus – found my beloved sister, Sylvie, and I’m living with her and Chloe, a famous model. Guess what! She is going to America, New York, actually, and will be spending a year there – and she’s asked me to go with her!”
“Oh my God – lucky thing! Can I come?” she joked, not meaning it.
“Sure you can! I’ve saved up enough! Lodgings will be free for you, as you’re travelling with us, but charges will stand for the flight, and the car or taxi journeys to and fro. But apart from that, we can live in America for ten months, together – modelling!” I bubbled, really excited.
“Sapphire, oh, Sapphire – I’m speechless!” cried Ellie, sobbing.
“Stop being speechless! You’ve got to save up too – get some cool outfits, high heels, make-up, you know! Although you have to get double, for both of us,” I gabbled.
“No problem!” Ellie began to count out coins. “£23 already! And my £17 fee for the office job tomorrow.” She slotted the coins back into her big jar, and I heard a loud jingling.
“Great! You don’t mind paying for my clothes too?” I questioned doubtfully.
“No, no! Course not, Sa
pphire. Oh my God, I can’t wait!” she sang, then rang off.
I slept fitfully for about six hours, and woke when it was still dark. Checking my watch, I pulled a book from my bag and started to read, using the light from my phone to see by.
“Sapphire?” mumbled Chloe sleepily, sitting up in our makeshift bed. She stared at me, blinked, and went straight back to sleep.
I started to make breakfast – a meagre half-pancake each, along with a small cup of orange juice, chill in the early morning. The time now said seven-fifteen, so I woke Sylvie and Chloe, shaking them gently.
“Yum,” said Chloe brightly as she sipped her orange juice.
“Well done,” Sylvie whispered, her voice low and husky. She had a little of her pancake but then left it, declaring she felt sick.
“Oh, poor Sylvie, “I remarked to Chloe as we wandered off again, trying to forage for food or money.
“Hey, look!”
“What?”
“An open food stall!”
“What?” I asked, hands on hips. “Come on!”
“No – there! Come on!” She raced away in the opposite direction, her heeled boots flying across the paved paths. I had to hurry to catch her up, and when I got there she was already buying three extra-big hotdogs, a coffee each and fresh fruit. I paid the £6.20 bill, then held the hot food while Chloe struggled with the coffee.
“Wow!” Sylvie brightened as soon as we got to her. “Where did that come from?”
“An open shop – quite close,” panted Chloe, still out of breath.
The food I ate then tasted the best of my life. The coffee was scalding hot and burnt my tongue, but was very strong and sweet, and was gone in minutes. The hotdog was delicious too, especially the sausage, which was sweet and filling, and tasted fabulous against the soft white bun. The fruit tasted very fresh too, and I ate with relish, savouring all the different tangs of banana, peach, plum, apple, pear, pineapple, cherry, strawberry, blackcurrant, raspberry, grapes and melon. The juice was lovely too – a mingled taste of all these fruits.
“Wait – why was the shop open? The zoo isn’t open ‘till Monday!” Sylvie asked, still eating her strawberries contentedly.
“No idea! Didn’t think of that. I wonder why?” Chloe answered, searching the internet on her phone again.
“The zoo opens today – just later! They changed the timings because of severe weather warnings. How weird is that!” Chloe read out, typing in another word in Google.
“What are you doing now?” Sylvie demanded impatiently, leaning over to see and accidentally spilling all Chloe’s fruit juice in her haste.
“We have to get ready; the zoo opens in about ten minutes!” Chloe said, beginning to put on her knickers and pink leggings on, set off with a flouncy vest top, sticking out at the sleeves and strewn with silver sequins. She brushed her hair, clipping away her layered fringe with a babyish pink butterfly clip, and tucked the rest behind her studded ears.
“Chloe! You don’t need to change again. Seriously. You’ve just slept rough, and the one thing you worry about is your looks,” I commented scornfully.
“Whatever!”
“Oh my God, Chloe. It’s a day in a zoo – not even a proper day out – not a disco or a party!” protested Sylvie, putting on her own black jeans and a faded red top with glitter stars. She combed her hair briskly, securing it in a messy bun, but put her favourite earrings and a dab of glitter on her pale cheeks. I smiled at her gratefully, while she brushed my hair out patiently, loosening my scraggy plait and fixing it in a side ponytail, which suited me well. I just put my old clothes on: a pair of faded jeggings, a T-shirt with hearts, a cute pink cardigan with embroidered pockets and my loose black boots over red socks. Our clothes were soaked and grimy from last night; Chloe had been nestled in a picnic blanket so her clothes weren’t even damp.
“Huh.”
“What?” asked Chloe in a fierce tone, staring at Sylvie angrily.
“Me and Sapphire are dressed properly,” Sylvie smiled at me for half a second, but then went on at Chloe, “You look like a total idiot, all tarted up like that! Even put make-up on, haven’t you?”
She had obviously seen the tell-tale signs of glitter on her high cheekbones, the black smudges on her long lashes, the pink dabbed carefully on her cheeks, the blue on her eyelids, the gold edging her made-up eyes, the shimmering sparkling red on her pouting lips.
“Honestly, Chloe! Make-up everywhere – what a mess! You should know better,” I added, poking her red lips and her soft eyelids, sending her up. It certainly worked.
“What? What? Coming from you! Shut up, you ugly little snitch!” Chloe retaliated, glaring at both of us. “I think you’ll find you’re the mess, Sylvie, and Sapphire, it’s not my make-up that’s a mess – it’s you! Now get lost and stop pestering me and your blooming sister!” she retorted meanly.
I felt taken aback, shocked that she could be so horrible. I wavered, but then made up my mind.
“Fine. I will. Bye!” I grabbed my handbag and the strawberry laces, pocketing the £10 and £5 notes, knowing all the rest of my money was in my room back at Chloe’s house. I signalled to Sylvie, telling her she should send it to me, and left them. I walked briskly, breathing heavily, hardly believing it.
“Wait, wait!” Sylvie ran after me, feet pounding, clasping her bag desperately, panting, wailing in desperation. “Please, wait!” She sounded so heartbroken I stopped, turning around.
“Sylvie? What is it?” I asked, slipping my hand in hers, pulling her close.
“Oh, Sapphire,” she sobbed, clutching me so tightly I felt faint.
“Oh, Sylvie!” I murmured, closing my eyes tight. “Oh, Sylvie,” I repeated, eyes still shut.
“Sapphire! Chloe was so terrible to you! I’m so sorry! Please forgive me,” she wept, trying to dry her tears with a dirty tissue. “Really, really, really sorry.”
I began to cry then, shaking uncontrollably. ”Sylvie, Sylvie, it wasn’t your fault. Don’t worry. I still love you.”
“Really? Oh,” she collapsed into my arms, still weeping. “Chloe went. I never want to see her again,” she added, knuckling her eyes awkwardly.
We sat there, in the middle of the path, heads together, shaking. We were shaking mostly of our emotions, but the wind was bitter and made us shiver even in our matching coats.
“Hey! What the ‘eck are you doin’ ‘ere?” An angry, hoarse deep voice shouted at us. We unlinked arms quickly, staring at him, puzzled.
“Get out of ‘ere, you bloomin’ tramps! Shoo, shoo!” he cried, shepherding us along.
As we reached the heavy black gates, studded with black metal spikes, he took hold of us by the scruff of our necks and shoved us roughly over the opposite wall.
“Oww!” I screamed as a searing pain grasped hold of me.
“Sapphire!” called Sylvie, making her way across the grass carefully. “Are you all right?”
I lay on my arm, unable to move. My head was spinning in time with everything around me. I suddenly fainted clean away on to the grass.
“Sapphire?” Sylvie towered over me, peering cautiously. She twisted my leg around so it slotted back in its usual place, then felt my sweating forehead.
Sitting up, I swayed uncontrollably. Sylvie was a blur, the grass was a blur, the wall was a blur, and my arm was a blur – a red blur!