The Butterfly Club Read online

  Perhaps the postman butterfly had that name because most of its wings were bright pillar-box red, but they had very smart black edges, with two bright white spots on either side.

  ‘I think the postman butterfly is my favourite. Quick, let’s find him!’ I said.

  We circled the enclosure, looking carefully on every branch, every bush, every fruit stand. We saw lots and lots of butterflies, but there weren’t many red-and-black ones.

  ‘There’s your postman, Tina!’ said Grandad, pointing up high.

  We peered upwards but I shook my head.

  ‘It’s not a postman, Grandad. It’s too big. I know it’s red and black, but look – it hasn’t got any white spots.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s been using face cream,’ said Gran. ‘I’m sure it is your Mr Postman, Tina.’

  I think she was getting a bit bored of butterflies.

  ‘It’s not.’ I consulted the picture chart again. ‘It’s this one, look – “big billy”. It’s red and black, but hasn’t got any spots. It’s definitely big billy.’

  ‘Can’t he count as your favourite?’ asked Gran.

  ‘Well, I like him, but I think I like the postman better,’ I said.

  Gran sighed. We went around the enclosure one more time. We saw swallowtails and morphos aplenty, and a host of other different kinds, but we couldn’t spot a single postman.

  ‘I don’t think there can be any postmen at all today, pet,’ said Grandad.

  ‘They’re all out on their rounds,’ said Gran. ‘Come on – who wants an ice cream?’

  ‘Me!’ said Phil.

  ‘Me!’ said Maddie.

  ‘Me – but can we look for a postman butterfly first?’ I asked.

  ‘We’ve looked and looked and looked,’ said Phil.

  ‘We’ve looked until our eyes are falling out,’ said Maddie.

  ‘Couldn’t we have just one more look?’ I begged.

  So we walked all round the enclosure one more time. We looked up. We looked down. We looked through. We looked over. We looked everywhere.

  We still didn’t see a postman.

  ‘Come on, we’re really going to have to go now, Tina.’ Gran took my hand and pulled me towards the exit. I looked up just as we were going through the dangling plastic strips – and there, just above me, perching on the EXIT sign, was a little bright red butterfly with black wingtips and two big white spots on either side.

  ‘Oh! Oh, how wonderful! Look, look, look! It’s my postman!’ I cried.

  It flew down towards me and circled my head once, as if it was saying hello. Then it flew off, and soon I couldn’t see it any more.

  I was so excited I felt my face going bright red, just like the postman. I was so hot I wouldn’t put my jacket on even when we were outside in the cold. Gran got cross with me and Grandad tried to chase after me, but they couldn’t catch me for ages. I spread my arms like wings and pretended I was flying, just like the postman.

  When I went to sleep that night I dreamed that the butterflies were in our bedroom – emerald swallowtails, blue morphos, and hundreds of postman butterflies.

  Chapter Eight

  WHEN I WOKE up, the butterflies were all gone. I remembered that Baby was gone too and I was very, very sad. My hand felt so empty now. I clutched my teddy but he didn’t really help. I didn’t want to feel his soft fur. I wanted my hard little Baby – her round head, her smooth arms, the swell of her tummy, the little indentations of her toes.

  I wanted her sooooooo much that I started crying. Not loud crying so that Mum could hear and come running. Just quiet, miserable, head-in-my-pillow crying.

  Phil heard. Maddie heard. They got into my bed, though it was a bit of a squeeze for the three of us. We were like a triplet sandwich. I was the jam.

  I felt a bit better squashed up with my sisters, but I couldn’t stop crying for a long time. And then, when I did, I still felt dreadfully snuffly and my head hurt.

  I didn’t feel any better at breakfast time. I didn’t want to eat my fruit or yoghurt. I didn’t want to eat my toast. I only sipped my juice.

  ‘Oh dear, oh dear, what’s the matter with you, Teeny Weeny?’ asked Mum. ‘You look a bit pale and red-eyed.’ She felt my forehead. ‘You’re quite hot too. I hope you’re not going down with anything. Maybe you’d better have a pyjama day today.’

  When any of us have a cold or get sick, we stay in our pyjamas and Mum brings us our meals on a tray, and we do colouring or read in bed. I’ve had heaps more pyjama days than Phil and Maddie.

  They don’t like pyjama days. Maddie gets especially fidgety. I quite like pyjama days.

  So I got to stay in bed all Sunday. It wasn’t lonely one bit.

  Phil and Maddie and I played with our Monster High dolls and our Barbies. We pretended that they went to different schools and were deadly rivals, and they ended up having a big fight.

  Mum said they were getting a bit boisterous and I needed some peace and quiet. So Phil and Maddie went off to play by themselves while Mum read to me – three whole chapters.

  Then she had to go and see to the Sunday dinner, so Dad came and played cards with me.

  I had my Sunday dinner on a tray – Mum gave me a teeny portion but I could only eat one potato. And two beans. And three spoonfuls of ice cream.

  Then I had a nap. I woke up feeling worse: my nose was really stuffed up now, and my throat hurt and I felt hot and shivery at the same time.

  ‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ said Mum. ‘I’d better take your temperature.’

  In the afternoon I got a bit moany and groany.

  I had more ice cream for tea. I didn’t want anything else.

  Later I put on my dressing gown to go down and watch a DVD. I was allowed to choose my favourite, Frozen. I sat on Dad’s lap. It was fine for a bit, but then I got all droopy.

  ‘We’d better pop you back to bed,’ said Mum.

  ‘Never mind, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ll be as right as rain in the morning,’ said Dad.

  ‘I’m not so sure,’ said Mum. ‘I think she got thoroughly chilled yesterday. It was a bit irresponsible of your parents trailing them all round the zoo on such a cold day.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, it’s not like it’s the middle of winter!’

  ‘There was a very cold wind – and you know how quick Tina is to catch cold,’ said Mum. ‘Look at her! I don’t think she’d better go to school tomorrow.’

  Oh! That cheered me up a bit, though I was careful to carry on looking mournful.

  ‘I think I’ve caught a cold too,’ said Maddie quickly. ‘A-tishoo, a-tishoo – see!’

  ‘And me. I’m sure my nose feels stuffed up,’ said Phil. ‘Perhaps we’d better all stay off school tomorrow.’

  ‘Now look what you’ve started!’ said Dad. ‘You little monkeys! You’re all going to school tomorrow even if you sneeze your heads off.’

  Phil and Maddie were as right as rain in the morning, much to their annoyance. But I still wasn’t very well. I couldn’t breathe properly and I hurt all over. Mum bundled me up in two sweaters and two pairs of tights and my big winter coat and took me to the doctor’s.

  I like Dr Jessop. We’re old friends.

  ‘Mmm, that chest sounds a bit crackly,’ she said. ‘I think we’d better give you some medicine, Tina.’

  ‘And do I have to go to school?’ I asked in a tiny, poorly voice.

  ‘I think you’d better have a day or two in bed,’ said Dr Jessop.

  So Mum and I went home, and I put on soft clean pyjamas while Mum put crisp clean sheets on my bed, and then I curled up in my nice clean nest and tried to go back to sleep.

  It felt very strange to be in the bedroom all by myself, without the sounds of Phil’s heavy breathing and Maddie tossing and turning. It was too quiet. I could just about hear Mum phoning her work to say she couldn’t come in today and then opening and closing cupboards in the kitchen, but up here in my bedroom everything was still and silent.

  I peeped out of my sheets. The