Emily's Dream (7 page)

“It was such a good idea bringing the camping stove.” Emily sniffed, and sighed happily as the steam from the hot-chocolate pan wafted up her nose. “It was worth lugging all those water carriers and things over from the car, Mum.”

“There’s something about sleeping outside – or almost outside – that makes everyone starving.” Her mum poured hot chocolate into five mugs. “I knew you’d want something hot for breakfast, even though you swore to me you all wanted Coco Pops.”

“This is really nice,” Emily sighed. The others were still asleep – or only awake as far as the groaning and wriggling stage anyway. But she had a feeling the hot-chocolate smell would bring them out of the tent soon. She looked thoughtfully at the big
pile of supplies she and her mum had packed – big water carriers, a packet of cereal, a cool box with milk and all the stuff for sandwiches. “We’re going to have to bring
everything
for the party out here too. Water for squash. All the food. It’s going to be tricky remembering all of it.”

Her mum grinned. “Oh, you’ll be fine. You’ve got Izzy and her amazing list.”

Emily nodded. “We need to start writing down ideas for what we’re actually doing at the party today. But we can talk about that while we’re painting.” She gazed around the barn. “It already looks loads better with the floor all swept.” Then she frowned, putting her head on one side. “What’s that funny noise? It sounds like a motorbike or something.”

Emily got up, and hopped carefully across the barn floor with her feet half in her wellies. “Oh! Hello!”

“Who is it?” her mum called anxiously. They hadn’t expected any visitors.

“It’s Izzy’s dad! And his lawnmower! Izzy!” Emily yelled over the noise of the ride-on mower.

There was a sudden silence as Izzy’s dad turned the mower off, and Izzy poked her face out of the tent, blinking sleepily.

“Your dad’s here!” Emily told her, and she
squeaked, and dived back into the tent to put her glasses on.

“She’s not even up?” Her dad shook his head, pretending to be horrified. “Typical. Sorry to turn up so early, Emily. Iz mentioned that you were thinking of using the field for games and things, so I thought I could come and cut the grass for you. I’ve got a job later on, so I was fitting you in before.” He looked around at the barn. “This is a beautiful old place.” Then he frowned at the battered doors. “All your work tidying it up’s going to be wasted though, if you can’t shut these doors. The grot’s just going to blow back in.”

Emily came to look at them with him. “I know, but they’re really wobbly. I tried closing them, and I thought they were going to fall apart on top of me.”

“Mmmm.” Mr Armstrong frowned. “I’ve got some bits of wood I can mend those with, I reckon. The frame looks all right.”

“Really?” Emily felt like hugging him, but Izzy beat her to it. She came dashing across the barn in just her pyjamas and socks, and flung her arms round her dad.

“Thanks, Dad! I did wonder if you could, but it felt a bit mean asking when you said you were
really busy this weekend.”

Her dad shrugged. “Well. You did say the shelter badly needs the money. And it’s sad seeing a lovely old place like this falling apart.” He peered at the doors, and frowned. “After I’ve been to the Johnsons’ this morning I’ll nip home and find the wood for you.”

By now the other two were wriggling out of the tent door, yawning and blinking owlishly.

“Uuurrrh, it’s chilly,” Poppy muttered, and Emily handed her a mug of hot chocolate. Poppy woke up a bit after she’d had a couple of mouthfuls, and eyed Izzy’s dad.

“Hi, Mr Armstrong…” she said, sounding confused, and obviously wondering why he was there, and whether she’d missed something.

“He’s come to cut the grass,” Emily explained, taking pity on her. “And hopefully mend the doors too.”

“If the grass is all cut,” Izzy said, as she dived back into the tent again to put her clothes on, “we need to think about how we’re going to use all that big space outside.” The next bit was totally muffled, and Emily guessed she was pulling her sweater over her head and still talking.

“What did you say?” she asked, as Izzy came out again, looking worryingly awake and organised. She was even holding a pen.

“Games!” Izzy said briskly, pulling her notebook out of her pocket. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m not awake yet,” Maya moaned. “It isn’t even eight o’clock. I can’t
think
.”

Emily grinned at her mum. “It’s like a lie-in, not getting up till now. Sukie usually wakes up at about half-past five and yells till everyone else wakes up too. I wonder how Dad’s doing…”

Her mum sighed happily. “It does seem very peaceful. Eat some cereal, you lot. Maybe that’ll wake you all up. Have you had breakfast?” she asked Izzy’s dad, waving a bowl at him.

“I could have a second breakfast… Izzy never lets me have these,” her dad explained, pouring himself the chocolatey cereal. “She says they’re bad for us.”

Izzy went pink, and Emily’s mum laughed as she handed the bowls around. “Don’t worry, Izzy, I totally agree with you. But you’ve never been shopping with Emily and Toby and James. I come home with stuff I never intended to buy at all. Especially now we do the self-scanning thing. James bought smoked salmon last week. He doesn’t even like it, and it was
very
expensive. Sukie’s even worse, she just chucks everything in the trolley without scanning it, and then the people at the checkout think we’re trying to shoplift… Anyway, I think chocolate cereal’s OK for weekends. And especially for camping. We always have treats then.”

“What games are we going to have at the party?” Izzy said, changing the subject, and balancing her notebook on her knee behind the bowl.

“I still like the idea of pass the guinea pig,” Maya sighed, scooping the last of her cereal into her mouth. “I love them so much – the way they squeak, and they always look so surprised.”

“You could adopt one from the shelter,” Poppy pointed out, and Maya looked at her in surprise.

“I s’pose I could. I hadn’t thought of it. I reckon Henry might think it was breakfast on legs, though.”

Emily snorted. “I don’t know. Some of those guinea pigs at the shelter are massive. I think they could take Henry, no problem. Especially if you had two of them.”

Maya smiled to herself. “It is nearly my birthday. And Mum was saying she hadn’t got a clue what to get me.”

Emily nodded, swallowing a little. She wished it
was that easy. She stared down at her bowl, very carefully not looking at her mum.

Poppy was chewing the end of her spoon, and scowling. “Maybe… Hmmmm… It would be good if we did stuff that made people think about the shelter, wouldn’t it? And if the grass is cut outside, there’ll be loads of room. As long as it’s not raining. Why don’t we have a dog show?”

Emily widened her eyes. “Isn’t that a bit complicated? I mean, you have to know all about the different breeds, it’s really tricky. I mean, I know some, but I couldn’t tell you what colour eyes a Lhasa apso’s supposed to have, or anything like that.”

“A whatter whatter?” Maya asked.

Emily shrugged. “Mad hairy thing. But really cute. You see? No way we can judge a dog show.”

“I don’t mean that sort of dog show!” Poppy shook her head. “I mean a
fun
dog show. Waggiest tail. Dog that looks most like its owner. Oooooh! Dog fancy dress! OK, someone else has to be in charge – I need to enter Billy.”

Izzy was scribbling frantically, and everyone was nodding.

“Very good idea,” Emily’s mum agreed. “And if you charge a little bit to enter each class – a pound
maybe – then that raises you even more money. I’m sure I could find you some rosettes on the Internet, and perhaps you could give some dog treats for the first prize as well.”

The girls packed the breakfast things into a bowl to wash up later, still talking excitedly about different dog show ideas. Emily’s mum got out the tins of white paint that Emily’s dad had found at the back of their garage, and Emily handed round a pile of ancient shirts.

“I’ve never done this before,” Maya murmured, looking at the walls rather anxiously.

“It’s OK,” Emily assured her. “It’s not difficult. You just splash it on – I mean, there’s no radiators to go round, or worrying about not getting it on the carpet. Just go for it.”

“However bad we are, it’s still going to look loads better,” Poppy agreed, loading up her brush, and slapping a big stroke of white paint across the dirty plaster. “Look! It looks fab! Actually, it would be really nice to draw on…” She half closed her eyes, looking around as if she could see the walls covered in glittering colour.

“No!” Emily pushed Poppy’s brush back against the wall. “At least, not until we’ve painted everything
white. Then we’ll think about it!”

“Hey! Look at this!” Izzy’s dad stood in the doorway, staring round admiringly. “It looks amazing – it’s bigger!”

“It does look bigger,” Emily agreed. “It’s the white, I suppose. We’re almost done. Just this little bit. And guess what we found!”

Izzy grabbed her dad’s hand, and pulled him over to the darkest corner.

“An old tin bath!” He laughed. “Maybe someone was using it to feed the animals from. Or they just put all their old bits of rubbish in the barn. You were lucky the whole place wasn’t filled up with junk.” He walked round it, rubbing his chin. “Just a couple of holes in it… It would be brilliant in a garden, you know. Imagine it all full of tulips.” He put on a very serious face. “Miss Harris, Miss Armstrong, could I make you an offer for this beautiful bath? Ten pounds to the party fund? Actually, I tell you what – how about I buy it off you, but I’ll plant it up and leave it here until after the party?”

Emily blinked. “I was going to get Mum to take it home with us and take it to the tip!” she said, giggling. “Yes, please buy it! It’ll look really nice with flowers
in – like the barn’s got people here all the time.”

“Someone’s coming with a dog,” Poppy called from the top of the stepladder. “I can hear barking.”

“Oh, maybe it’s Lucy,” Emily said, hurrying over to look. “She said she’d come if there weren’t too many people looking round the shelter this afternoon.” Then she squeaked delightedly. “Mrs Everett! And you’ve got Charlie. Mum, look, I know you’ve met Mrs Everett, but this is her gorgeous dog that I’ve been walking.” She made a fuss of Charlie, tickling him under the chin until he rolled over and waved his paws in the air.

Her mum laughed and crouched down to stroke him. “He’s lovely. You know, your dad had a dog really like Charlie when we first met. He was called Tigger because he bounced everywhere.”

Emily nodded. “Charlie’s a bit bouncy when he’s about to go for a walk, but most of the time he’s a little star. Aren’t you?”

Charlie wriggled the right way up, and did his angelic melting-eyed look at Emily’s mum, resting his chin on her knees and staring up at her soulfully.

Emily looked up anxiously at Mrs Everett. “I’ve just thought. You’ve come a long way. Are you… I mean, is your leg all right?”

Mrs Everett smiled at her, and sighed. “I might sit down on that bit of wall over there for a bit, Emily. I’m having a good day, and it’s been a lovely walk, but it’s a bit far for me now, to be honest. But haven’t you made the old barn look nice? Cutting the grass has made a huge difference. And the paint! How’s the planning coming along?”

Emily had told Mrs Everett all about the rescue centre, and the party. Mrs Everett always invited her in after she’d walked Charlie, and she was nice to talk to. She’d had some good ideas for the party already. Emily’s favourite was a craft table for everyone to make animal hats to dress up in.

“We’re going to have a dog show. Oh! You could enter Charlie, he’d win waggiest tail, no problem. Actually—” Emily looked hopeful. “Would you like to be a judge instead? You’d be really good at it!”

“Oh, yes.” Poppy nodded, peering down from the ladder. “You, and Lucy from the rescue centre. That would be great.”

“I’d love to.” Mrs Everett smiled at them all. “I was trying to think of a way I could help you all. Oooh, I’m looking forward to this party now, girls. You’d better decide on a date and get those tickets out there, hadn’t you?”