Cookie Read online

  ‘Oh, Avril, you’re a star,’ said Mum, giving her a hug.

  ‘You’re my all-time favourite auntie even if we’re not exactly related,’ I said, giving her a hug too.

  I wanted to hug Cream Puff as well but she was busy gobbling up her breakfast and wouldn’t be distracted.

  We lugged our cases into the car and thanked Auntie Avril for letting us stay overnight.

  ‘Well, if you get into totally dire straits you’d better come back, Gerry or no Gerry,’ she said. ‘And thanks for the cookies, girls. They were a lovely surprise. They’re very good, Dilys. I thought you couldn’t cook!’

  ‘Mum’s the greatest cookie cook in the whole world,’ I said. ‘And I’m learning fast, so maybe I’m the second greatest!’

  We drove off, Auntie Avril standing on her doorstep under her hanging basket of petunias, waving and waving until we turned the corner.

  ‘So, which seaside shall we pick?’ said Mum. ‘Brighton’s fun.’

  I remembered Brighton from a day trip.

  ‘It’s too big and busy and the beach is all pebbles,’ I said. ‘Let’s find a sandy seaside place.’

  ‘OK,’ said Mum. ‘Well, we’ll drive due south and see what we find. If we tip over into the sea we’ll know we’ve gone too far.’

  We couldn’t go directly south all the time because the roads wiggled around and once or twice we had to stop the car and peer hard at the map. I couldn’t read it when we were driving along because it made me feel sick. I wasn’t much better sorting out the route when we were stopped. I kept squinting at red roads and yellow roads and little spidery black roads, trying to work out which one we were on.

  ‘Don’t worry, babes, we’ll make it to the seaside somehow,’ said Mum. ‘Bournemouth’s very sandy. And Bognor. Which one shall we aim at?’

  I peered at the map. A name in tiny print suddenly swam into focus.

  ‘Oh, Mum! Not Bournemouth, not Bognor. I’ve found a place here right by the sea and guess what it’s called: Rabbit Cove! Oh, Mum, please let’s go to Rabbit Cove!’

  ‘I’ve never even heard of it. Let’s see where it is.’ Mum squinted at the map. ‘It’s obviously a very small place, not a proper town. I wonder why it’s got such a funny name? You don’t get rabbits at the seaside, do you?’

  ‘I think it must be because of the shape of the cove. See those two sticking-out bits of land? They look like rabbit’s ears!’ I said.

  ‘So they do! OK, OK, we’ll go and have a look at Rabbit Cove if you’ve set your heart on it, though I’m not sure there’ll be anywhere to stay there.’

  I tried hard to keep us on a direct route now, peering at the map as Mum drove, though I started to feel horribly travel sick.

  ‘Open your window a bit – and sit back and close your eyes,’ said Mum.

  I did as I was told because all the world outside the window had started spinning and I kept yawning and swallowing spit. It seemed to be spinning inside my own head now. I was falling down and down and down into a scary black nothingness.

  I called and called for Mum but she wasn’t there. And then I called for Dad and I could hear him calling back. I struggled to get closer to him, reaching out, but then a light flashed on his face and I saw it was screwed up with rage.

  ‘You don’t want me and I don’t want you, because you’re ugly ugly ugly,’ he shouted.

  He shoved me hard and I tumbled on downwards, mile after mile, but I could still hear him shouting ugly. Other voices joined in. Skye and Arabella and Emily were shouting it, all the girls in my class, even Rhona, and I started crying, my hands over my ears . . .

  ‘Beauty! Beauty, sweetheart, wake up. It’s all right, Mum’s here.’

  I blinked in sudden dazzling daylight. Mum leaned over and pulled my head onto her shoulder.

  ‘Oh, Mum, I couldn’t find you!’ I sobbed.

  ‘It was just a horrible nightmare, darling, that’s all. You were crying out and tossing about. I had to stop driving,’ said Mum.

  ‘We’re driving?’ I said stupidly. Then everything snapped properly into place. ‘Oh yes, we’re going to Rabbit Cove!’

  ‘Yes, we are – and we’re nearly there! You’ve been asleep a long time. OK now, pet?’ Mum wiped my nose with her tissue as if I was two years old.

  ‘I’m sorry to be such a baby,’ I said, feeling ashamed.

  ‘You’re not a baby, darling! You’re ever so grown up, much more than me. There now, let’s get cracking. Rabbit Cove, here we come. Penny for the first one to see the sea.’

  I sat up properly and we edged out of the layby back onto the road. I still felt a bit weird but Mum had the window right down and I breathed in deeply. We were on one of the yellow roads now, surrounded by fields of corn and barley, gentle rolling hills purple in the distance. And then I saw a dazzle of brilliant blue . . .

  ‘The sea, the sea! I spotted it first! You did say a pound for the first one to see it, didn’t you?’

  ‘No, I didn’t! A penny, you cheeky baggage.’

  Mum slowed down when we got to the next road sign. We could stay on the main road and go to Seahaven – or turn down a little lane marked Rabbit Cove!

  ‘OK, OK, we’ll make for Rabbit Cove,’ said Mum.

  ‘You bet!’

  ‘Don’t be too disappointed if there’s nothing much there, sweetheart,’ said Mum. ‘We can just have a little wander and then make for Seahaven. I think that’s a proper seaside town so we should be able to find a little bed-and-breakfast place there.’

  We turned down the lane for Rabbit Cove. There were tall trees growing on high banks on either side of us, their branches joining to make a dark green canopy overhead. Then there was a sign to a little farm, and then driveways to houses, then a whole street of little terraced houses with pebbles stuck on the walls. Then the shops started, a small supermarket, a dress shop, a little gallery, a newsagent’s, an off-licence, an antique shop with a rocking chair outside, and a tearoom called Peggy’s Parlour.

  ‘Oh, we’ll definitely go and have a cup of tea in Peggy’s Parlour,’ said Mum, giggling. ‘It all looks so old-fashioned. I do hope Peggy herself is a little old lady in a black dress with a frilly white apron, tottering around writing everybody’s orders in a little notebook tied to her waist.’

  ‘You are daft, Mum. Don’t let’s go there yet though. I want to see the sea.’

  ‘OK, OK, stop bouncing around in your seat!’

  We drove on past a proper restaurant, a pub, and a white hotel with a big green lawn and several swings.

  ‘See, there is a hotel! Oh Mum, can we stay there?’

  ‘Maybe. It might be a bit expensive.’

  ‘But Auntie Avril’s given us heaps of money.’

  ‘It might have to last us a long time until I manage to get a job,’ said Mum. She nibbled at her lip. ‘Beauty, what can I do? Jobwise, I mean. I’ve only ever been a receptionist, and I was hopeless.’

  ‘You could do heaps of things, Mum,’ I said. ‘You could . . . be a cookie baker.’

  It was a little joke to make Mum laugh. She smiled at me. ‘OK, that’s what I’ll do,’ she said.

  She turned down a steep little lane towards the seafront. There were more houses now with sloping gardens. Some of the houses had BED AND BREAKFAST signs.

  ‘We could say in one of these,’ I said.

  ‘OK, we’ll pick one later,’ said Mum.

  We drove downwards, round another bend, Mum’s foot hard on the brakes – and then we were at the seafront.

  ‘Oh, Mum!’ I said.

  ‘Oh, Beauty!’ said Mum.

  Rabbit Cove was perfect. There was a high cliff on either side (the rabbit’s ears) sheltering a beautiful cove of soft golden sand. There was hardly anyone on the beach, just a few families with little kids running about trailing seaweed and sticking flags in sandcastles. An old-fashioned artist with a beard and a baggy blue shirt was sitting up on the little white wall, painting. At the other end of the wall there was a sm