The Butterfly Club Read online

  Phil and Maddie were sooooo envious when they came home from school.

  But most of the time Grandad looked after me. He only had a little job nowadays, delivering newspapers early in the morning.

  ‘Funny, that,’ he said. ‘My very first job was delivering newspapers too.’

  When Grandad got back from his newspaper round he’d have a little flop on Phil or Maddie’s bed. He said he was just resting his eyes, but he sometimes snored. I rested my eyes too. I don’t think I snored.

  We both woke up in the middle of the morning.

  ‘Time for elevenses,’ said Grandad.

  Sometimes it wasn’t exactly eleven o’clock, so he’d say, ‘Time for twenty-five-past-tensies,’ or, ‘Time for ten-to-elevensies.’

  He’d go down to the kitchen and make us both a mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream and a marshmallow on top.

  ‘It’s naughty but it’s nice,’ he said.

  He always drank his all up. Mostly I just had a couple of sips of mine, but I managed to eat the marshmallow.

  Then Grandad would make me up my very own story. Not a Phil-and-Maddie-and-me story. This was a story about Tina the Butterfly Princess. She didn’t look a bit like all the other princes and princesses. She was a teeny weeny girl who slept in a walnut shell when she was a baby. She was bright green all over, which attracted a lot of rude comments. The King and Queen were very worried, but the nurse simply wrapped the strange green baby up in a big cocoon in the royal nursery. Tina slept and slept – until one day she burst out of the cocoon and spread out beautiful wings. She wasn’t a little girl princess any more. She was a butterfly princess. She flew all over the royal gardens, daintily landing on flower after flower, while everyone marvelled. I loved loved loved my Butterfly Princess story.

  After that I’d have another nap while Grandad read his newspaper.

  Then Grandad would fix lunch. He got worried when I didn’t feel like eating anything. ‘Perhaps we’d better try you on nectar. Isn’t that what butterflies eat?’ he said.

  He made me teeny-tiny bite-sized sandwiches of bread and butter and honey. ‘Honey’s a bit like nectar,’ he said.

  He served them on my doll’s tea-set china. They looked so pretty I had to eat one. And two more. Grandad was very pleased with me. In the afternoon I had another sleep. I seemed to be doing nothing but sleep.

  ‘That’s right, you’re our little Sleeping Beauty,’ said Grandad. ‘Sleep’s good for you, pet.’

  I certainly knew that Grandad was good for me.

  Dr Jessop’s pills worked and the pneumonia went away, but I was still very weak and droopy.

  ‘You need bed rest, Tina. You can’t go back to school yet – not for another week at least,’ said Dr Jessop.

  ‘You lucky, lucky thing, Tina!’ said Phil and Maddie.

  Then someone very surprising came to visit.

  I heard the knock on the front door. I heard Mum and Phil and Maddie. I knew by the sound of their voices that they were very surprised.

  There was a lot of talk downstairs, and then I heard Mum say, ‘I’ll take you up to see Tina.’

  I wondered who it could be. I was sure it wasn’t Gran or Grandad. Maybe it was Mrs Richards?

  I practically fell out of bed when Mum brought Miss Lovejoy into my bedroom! Was she going to tell me off for staying away from school for so long?

  ‘Don’t look so worried, Tina, I’m only here on a fleeting visit,’ said Miss Lovejoy. ‘I just came to see how you are. Philippa and Madeleine have been keeping me up to date with the news. I gather you’re on the mend now.’

  I nodded.

  ‘You still don’t look very well, dear.’

  Dear!!!

  ‘I’m glad you’re being looked after so well. I know you won’t be back to school for a little while, so I’ve brought you a few books and your exercise books – you can do a bit of catching up when you feel like it.’ Miss Lovejoy put a very big heavy carrier bag on the end of my bed.

  When I felt like it??? I didn’t ever feel like doing multiplication or learning spellings, even when I was well. And that carrier bag looked chock-a-block with homework.

  ‘What do you say, Tina?’ said Mum. ‘It’s very kind of Miss Lovejoy to come here, isn’t it?’

  I gave a little nod again. ‘Thank you, Miss Lovejoy,’ I mumbled.

  Miss Lovejoy sat down beside me on the bed. It felt weird having her so close.

  ‘We’re all missing you, you know,’ she said. She paused. ‘Even Selma seems a bit woebegone.’

  I was astonished.

  ‘Perhaps she just misses having someone to tease,’ said Miss Lovejoy. ‘Anyway, the class have all written you Get Well Soon letters. They’re in the carrier too.’

  ‘Selma’s written me a Get Well letter?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes – every single member of the class.’

  ‘Even Phil and Maddie?’

  ‘Yes. I told them not to tell you. I wanted it to be a lovely surprise,’ said Miss Lovejoy. ‘Well, you rest as much as you can and get completely better.’

  She gave my hand a little pat, just like a fond auntie, and then she let Mum see her out of the house.

  Phil and Maddie came charging into the room.

  ‘Wow! Fancy Miss Lovejoy coming to visit you. She never said she was going to,’ said Phil.

  ‘Did she give you the letters? We all had to do one. It was weird writing a letter to you, Tina,’ said Maddie.

  ‘Did she tell you off at all?’ asked Phil.

  ‘No. No, she was actually quite nice. She called me “dear” and patted my hand,’ I said, still stunned.

  ‘She never!’ said Maddie. ‘It can’t have been our Miss Lovejoy. It must have been her much nicer twin sister.’

  ‘She did bring me heaps of school stuff though,’ I said, sighing.

  I wriggled along to the end of the bed and started delving in the carrier bag. There were school books and my project books and exercise books. I sighed.

  Then I found a big folder of letters. Twenty-seven letters – one from everyone in the class. They’d all drawn a picture too. Some of them were of me in bed, looking poorly. Mick had given me hideous spots and a speech bubble saying, ‘Phew! Moania.’ Peter drew me so small that I looked like a little insect in weeny pyjamas. Alistair had drawn me like a medical illustration with arrows. One pointed to my forehead and said High temperature; another pointed to my arms and legs and said Aches and pains; one pointed to my tummy and said Feeling sick. He was the only one in the whole class who spelled pneumonia correctly.

  Harry drew me completely well, and scoring a goal in a football match. I liked Harry’s letter. I liked Neera’s too. She drew all her brothers and sisters and her mum and dad, and even her granny and auntie, all saying Get well soon, Tina! I liked Phil’s letter. She drew Nibbles and Speedy and Cheesepuff in little hamster beds, blowing their noses with tiny hankies, pretending they’d got hamster pneumonia. I liked Maddie’s letter too. She drew the three of us together holding hands, but she drew me absolutely huge, my head almost off the page. She wrote: You’re going to get completely better, and so big and strong that you’ll be the tallest of all three of us.

  There were only two letters I didn’t like.

  Kayleigh drew a very ugly pin-girl who didn’t look anything like me and wrote one sentence: Dear Tina, Get better, from Kayleigh.

  Selma did a rubbish picture too. She gave me cross-eyes and a crooked mouth, and made my arms and legs look like matchsticks. She wrote: Dear Tina, I hope you get better soon. I can’t wait till you can come back to school. From Selma.

  I can’t wait till you can come back to school . . .

  I knew what that meant all right. I can’t wait to GET you!

  I scrumpled Selma’s letter up and stuffed it back in the carrier bag. There was still something else down at the bottom. It was a bulky parcel wrapped up in pretty paper and tied with a blue ribbon. There was a small card attached to it, which said: A little pres