Lola Rose Read online

  ‘I am watching,’ said Kendall. ‘They’re so lovely! Can I have one, Mum, please please please?’

  All the tourists collapsed with laughter. I laughed too, but I was still shaking. I hated those sharks. I couldn’t go near the glass even though I knew they couldn’t swim through it. I wanted to rush past to the next room but Kenny stuck to the glass like he had little suckers on his hands and nose. When Mum tried to pull him away he started yelling.

  ‘You kids are driving me nuts!’ said Mum. ‘Look, you go to the next bit, Lola Rose. We’ll catch up when His Lordship has had his fill of the sharks.’

  So I hurried on, round the corner and up the ramp. Then I stopped. I was up at the top of the shark tank now. There was no escape. There they were, swimming straight towards me.

  I was scared I was going to start screaming again. I ran and ran, blundering down dark tunnels and through twilight rooms, fish flickering all around me. I shot straight through the aquarium to the gift shop at the end. Even the turquoise toy sharks seemed sinister.

  I lurked in a far corner for ages and ages. I thought Mum and Kendall would never come. When they eventually came through they were hand in hand, and Kendall was bright pink in the face and beaming.

  ‘Lola Rose, where did you get to?’ Mum said.

  ‘You were so silly, Jayni – sorry, Lola Rose. This man came and told me all about the sharks. There’s this big big big one called George. He’s the best. George can see ten times better than me and he smells heaps better too.’

  ‘Yeah, they can smell one drop of blood miles away when they’re in the ocean,’ said Mum, snapping her teeth in a shark imitation.

  ‘Shut up, Mum.’

  ‘You’re not really scared, are you, you big softie? The sharks in these tanks don’t eat people. They get fed like fish paella, octopus and squid and stuff. We’ll have to come back and see them fed, won’t we, Kendall?’

  ‘Yeah! I want to feed George.’

  ‘I don’t think you can feed them, sweetheart. We’ll have to watch the man. You should have stayed, Lola Rose, it was fascinating.’ Mum stared at me and then came up close. ‘Jayni. What’s all this twitching? What’s up with you, you’re always so sensible?’

  ‘I am sensible. Sensible people hate sharks because they look so ugly and they can rip you apart. You can take Kendall back if you like but I’m never setting foot in this place ever again,’ I said. ‘Not for anything.’

  I walked out of the shop and stood by myself on the embankment. I stared at the river. I knew perfectly well there were no sharks in the Thames but I kept expecting a deadly dorsal fin to streak through the water.

  When Mum and Kendall came out at last Kendall was clutching a big fluffy turquoise toy shark. ‘Look, look, I’ve got my very own George!’ he cried, racing up to me. ‘Attack!’ he yelled, whirling George by the tail and then bashing me in the face with him.

  It didn’t hurt. I knew George was a fluffy toy and his teeth were made of felt – but I still screamed.

  ‘Oh, do stop it, Jayni, you’re just acting soft to get attention,’ Mum snapped.

  I was so hurt I went into a sulk. I wouldn’t talk to either of them as we crossed the bridge over the river and walked round Covent Garden. Then Mum stopped outside this immensely posh French cake and coffee shop. ‘Let’s live dangerously,’ she said, and went inside.

  I had to talk to say which cake I wanted. It took me ages to choose because they were all so ultra-yummy and special. I eventually decided on a cream mousse gâteau with strawberries and a swirl of chocolate icing on top. Mum had an elegant almond croissant. Kendall chose a chestnut cream meringue, but he licked it half-heartedly and didn’t finish it. So I did. And I had a hot chocolate to die for, all whippy with a big peak of cream.

  Mum laughed at me. ‘You’ve cheered up now, haven’t you, Lola Rose!’

  ‘You bet,’ I said.

  Then we got started on some serious shopping. We found this posh kids’ shop and there was this perfect little black leather jacket that fitted Kendall perfectly. He looked so cute in it. Even the shop assistant clapped her hands and called him a pet. It cost a fortune. ‘But I’ve got a fortune,’ said Mum, and she handed over a fistful of notes as if they were pennies.

  We looked at the girls’ jackets too. They had a denim jacket with fur and my heart started beating fast but when I tried it on it was much too small. I could hardly get my arms in and it wouldn’t meet across my front.

  ‘I’m too fat,’ I said, feeling awful.

  ‘Don’t be so daft. You’re just getting a big girl, too big for little kids’ clothes. We’ll find you a proper furry denim jacket, just you wait and see,’

  We went into shop after shop after shop. Kendall stopped playing swim-through-the-air games with George and started whining. But then, in the thirteenth shop, my lucky number, we found a whole row of ladies’ denim jackets lined with fake fur. Cream fur, blue fur, pink fur. I tried the pink furry one on, trembling. It fitted perfectly. Well, it was a little too long in the arms, but Mum rolled the sleeves up for me, saying it was the only cool way to wear such jackets anyway.

  Mum bought it for me and I went out of the shop wearing it. It felt as if I was being cuddled by the softest teddy bear. I looked great in it, I really did. I kept peering at myself in shop windows. A new cool blue denim pink furry-collared Lola Rose stared back, smiling all over her face.

  Mum was quite tempted by the denim jackets too, but then she spotted a white leather jacket, short and sexy. When she tried it on she looked so glamorous, just like a rock star, especially with her dark glasses.

  We sashayed out the shop, Lola Rose in her furry blue denim, Victoria in her rock-star white leather, two absolute babes – with a baby, our Kendall, whining for England, dragging George shark by the tail.

  We decided to buy him one of his favourite red lollies to shut him up. They’d proved very good dummies in the past. We could see any number of posh places selling Häagen Dazs and Ben & Jerry’s but there weren’t any ordinary little corner shops with cheapo ice lollies.

  ‘Perhaps there’s one down a side street,’ said Mum.

  We found a little newsagent eventually. He didn’t stock Kendall’s strawberry shockers but Mum bought him a fistful of other flavours – orange, mango, blackcurrant, milk.

  ‘There, kiddo, suck on that little lot and shut up,’ said Mum.

  She bought me a white Magnum. I was extra careful eating ice cream in my new denim jacket. I was concentrating so hard on licking cautiously that I almost walked straight past the special shop. It was a bookshop, but these were wonderful books – colouring books, cut-out books, sticker books, hundreds of them.

  ‘Boring!’ said Kendall, ice lolly all round his mouth like lipstick. Then he saw a colouring book of fishes of the world. He started clamouring for it, even though he goes horribly over the lines when he uses his own wax crayons and he presses too hard and makes the points furry if I let him near my felt-tip pens.

  ‘OK OK, spoilt brat number two,’ said Mum, opening up her magic handbag again. ‘What about you, spoilt brat number one? Would you like a fancy colouring book too?’

  I found the book I wanted most of all right at the back of this fairyland shop. It was a fat book of reproduction Victorian scraps, all ready to peel off and stick in a scrapbook. There were hundreds of children in bright pinks and purples playing with cats and dogs, flowers, birds, seaside scenes, Father Christmas, babies, butterflies, angels . . .

  ‘Oh, Mum. Victoria. Please!’ I whispered.

  We spent that evening sitting up in the double bed together watching television. Mum click-flicked through channel after channel. Kendall cuddled up between us, making George swim across the bed and attack poor little Bob the bear again and again. I sat up cross-legged with my scrapbook balanced on both knees, sticking in my new scraps.

  My absolute favourites were four enormous angels. They had long golden hair and flowing white robes and great grey wings springing from thei