That night Dad was sitting in the armchair trying to watch a programme about cars he couldn’t afford to buy. Dad is one of those dads who can’t watch telly unless he’s holding the remote control, so he was being really grumpy. Mum had taken Tilly out to ballet so there was only me and James in the house and James had gone to hide up in his room. That left me to face the great grumpiness of Dad alone so that wasn’t very fair, was it? Never mind, I’d soon have it sorted out. Tum tee tum . . .
‘Would you like me to sit on the floor by the telly and change it when you want, Dad?’ I asked.
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Dad, but then he had a think about it just like I knew he would. ‘If anybody should be doing that it should be James.’
Correct. Well done Dad. So let’s get it organised shall we?
‘I don’t mind doing it, honestly, really,’ said good little Agatha who wouldn’t hurt a sausage. ‘After all James is busy upstairs doing his homework. * You can’t ask him to sit there changing the telly.’
‘Oh can’t I?’
(*Big joke. All James ever does in his room is put on his football shirt and look at himself in the mirror, and Dad knew it.)
And so it came to pass that one minute later James was sitting on the floor by the telly looking even grumpier than Dad ha ha!
‘Make it a bit quieter,’ Dad said. James reached for the buttons and turned the volume down.
‘Have I got to stay here all night?’ he moaned.
‘Unless you go and get that remote,’ said Dad. ‘I paid for the telly, that was MY remote control, you lost it, so until you find it, you ARE the remote control. Now stop talking and make it a bit louder.’
James sighed and reached for the buttons again.
The car programme finished so Dad made James flick through all the other channels. He only watched about ten seconds of each one and made James change the volume every time. Gosh Dad was being super-grumpy that night, which is a bit worrying for a grown man with rainbow-coloured toenails.
I was on the sofa pretending to read a book about something but I can’t remember what as it was dead boring. Oh gosh, I shouldn’t say that when YOU’RE reading this book should I? It might put you off reading books. OK, the book was about bananas and it was really interesting. Really, honest it was. You don’t believe me do you? Bah. I’d better start this bit again. (Don’t worry, you won’t have to read this, they always cross these bits out before they send books to the printers.)
I was on the sofa just being on the sofa and not doing anything special. So that wasn’t really worth telling you was it? Anyway THE POINT I’M TRYING TO MAKE IS . . . even though James being on the floor was funny at first, I was starting to feel a bit sorry for him.
Of course he’s a big brother and therefore he is evil and selfish, but I’m sure he hadn’t meant to be so mean to Ellie’s mum. He’d just got a bit excited when he thought he’d won the cake. In fact, if I’m being honest, sometimes he isn’t mean at all.
I’ll tell you a secret story that I hope nobody else remembers except me. One time when I was six, Ivy accidentally knocked my chocolate biscuit down the drain in the school playground and I cried for ages until James came over and gave me his. I bet it was just a dirty trick so that in future years I could never completely hate him, but even so, it’s a trick that’s worked. So, because of that chocolate biscuit, I was just deciding to help James out when . . . a little twinkly fairy skipped into the room.
Actually it wasn’t a real fairy, it was Tilly wearing her glittery ballet dress and waving a silver wand. I used to have a dress like that and dead cool I looked too. In fact if I wasn’t going to be a celebrity actress supermodel when I grow up, I think being a real fairy would be neat. The world needs more fairies flying round, doing magic and making sure that your apple hasn’t got a brown mushy bit and that there’s no sticky patch on the park bench when you want to sit down and useful stuff like that.
But James is a boy and so he has no magic in his heart. Instead he gave Tilly a dirty look and demanded: ‘What DO you look like?’
‘She’s a beautiful fairy,’ said Dad.
‘Ping pang pell, magic spell,’ said Tilly dancing around James. ‘James’s head is a big smelly potato.’
‘Oh grow up!’ snapped James. He grabbed Tilly’s wand, bent it in half and threw it across the room. As Tilly burst into tears he shouted: ‘I hate little sisters. Why can’t you be a boy like normal people?’
Oh dear. And to think I’d been feeling sorry for him . . . well that hadn’t lasted long! It was going to take more than a chocolate biscuit in the playground to save him now.
I found Tilly’s wand and straightened it up for her, then Mum came in holding a little sparkly white crown. ‘Look Tilly, I found it,’ she said putting it on Tilly’s head. ‘There everybody, do you like Tilly’s costume? Flozzy Slippin is having a magic woodland party tomorrow, and Tilly’s been invited.’
‘How sad is that?’ sneered James. ‘Thank goodness I’ve got football practice.’
Tilly stopped crying, waved her wand and turned James’s head into a teapot (although it didn’t look any different).
I leant forwards to James so I could have a secret whisper.
‘James!’ I whispered secretly, ‘Why do you think they wanted that cake so badly? It’s for Flozzy’s party. They’ll be eating it!’
‘Eating the cake?’ gasped James. ‘But what can I do?’
‘Go along with Tilly and help out. You’ll be showing Ellie’s mum that there’s no hard feelings about the competition. You could offer to cut the cake for them,’ I said. ‘That way you could make sure there’s no . . . er . . . nasty surprises.’
James’s eyes lit up with excitement. He could slip the remote out and chop the rest of the cake into bits and nobody would know!
‘Are you talking about my cake?’ asked the grumpy man with rainbow toenails. ‘What do you mean nasty surprises?’
‘Don’t worry, Dad,’ said James. ‘I’ll get rid of any bits that look funny, even if it means I’m late for football practice.’
‘You needn’t be too late,’ I said. ‘You can wear your football kit underneath it, so when you get to the pitch you just have to take it off, and you’ll be ready.’
Mum, Dad, James and Tilly all stared at me blankly. They had absolutely no idea what I was talking about ha ha! So I just sat there smiling sweetly at James, and waited for him to ask the question that was bothering them all.
‘I don’t understand,’ said James. ‘I can wear my kit underneath what? And then take what off?’
‘Oh honestly James,’ I said. ‘It’s obvious isn’t it? You’re going to a magic woodland party. There’s no way they’re going to let you in without . . . a costume!’