Lottie:
So – plot twist! Lorelai isn’t Rapunzel after all, she’s actually Mother Gothel, which totally explains her granny neck.
Mo:
Why do you have to make everything weird?
Lottie:
Why do you have to make everything boring? You know when you’re really sick, and afterwards your mum makes you eat dry toast with nothing on it? That’s what you are, Mo. You are dry toast.
Mo:
That’s hardly even an insult. I get called worse things every day at school.
Lottie:
The point is that we were involved in a real-life murder mystery – even you have to admit it was exciting.
Mo:
There was NO murder – stop exaggerating, Lottie. And if by exciting, you mean terrifying, then yes, it was.
Lottie:
We knew two things for sure: that Lorelai wanted to get rid of us; that she had at least two people helping her; and that we were in it together.
Mo:
That’s three things. We knew three things for sure.
Lottie:
What we didn’t know was why she hated us, or who she was working with…
Mo:
So we ran home as fast as we could and shut ourselves in my room to talk about it.
Lottie:
I’d like to point out that we shut ourselves in Mo’s room because his room was the biggest. Of course, Mo had to have the biggest room, because he’s hashtag-sensitive. Totally unfair.
Mo:
It’s also completely irrelevant. And stop hashtagging things. It’s so annoying.
Lottie:
Hashtag-you, hashtag-are, hashtag-annoying, hashtag-Mo.
*Mo tries and fails to push Lottie off her chair, so she pushes Mo off his. There is a loud thud as his bottom hits the floor*
Mo
‘Why would Lorelai want to get rid of us?’ Lottie asked. ‘I mean, I can understand why she’d want to get rid of you, but not me – I’m adorable! Maybe she meant Sadie.’
‘But she said the thing about the ridiculous hairstyles. That’s definitely you.’
‘My hairstyles are awesome, though.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Unless she’s jealous. That must be it! And, in that case, I can understand why she’d want to get rid of me, but not you.’
Nothing Lottie said made sense. ‘So, do you want her to want to get rid of you?’
‘Yes. I don’t see why you should be the special one she wants to get rid of.’ Lottie threw herself on my bed WITH HER SHOES ON and buried her face in my pillow.
‘The scary, crazy lady didn’t say just me, though, she said both of us, remember?’
‘Oh yes, she did. Thanks, Mo, you’re actually quite sweet sometimes.’
‘Right. So now we’ve established that both of our lives are in danger, and that you’re happy about it…?’
She smiled and nodded.
‘…We need to work out what we’ve done, and who those other people in the house were.’
‘And also,’ Lottie said, ‘what was she saying about choosing one of us? Why only one of us? Why not both?’
‘You want her to choose you, don’t you?’
‘I’ll be highly offended if she chooses you, if that’s what you mean.’
Absolutely mental. ‘I’ll tell you what, if she does choose me to be kidnapped or killed, I’ll tell her to take you instead.’
‘You’d do that for me?’ Lottie’s face lit up.
She hugged me. The only people who had ever hugged me were my mum and my nan. I felt my cheeks get hot.
‘I have to show you something,’ I said, and I took the note I’d found in my pocket out of my secret box.
Lottie gasped. ‘I have one, too!’ She unfolded a piece of paper and put it on the floor in front of us.
‘They’ve obviously come from the same person,’ I said. ‘But who?’
‘And are they really trying to help us, or is it all a trick?’
‘We should make a list of suspects,’ I said.
‘That’s a great idea, Mo! We can write down everything we know about anyone who’s been acting suspiciously, starting with the Wicked Witch of the Road.’
‘OK, so we’ll put down Lori-thingy… Mr Gideon’s a bit creepy.’
‘Yes, but I don’t see how anyone who makes ice cream that tastes like heaven could be trying to hurt us,’ said Lottie.
‘I know, but his arm is weird.’
‘You’re putting him on our hit list because his arm is weird?’
‘Yes.’
‘Fine. Mr Gideon, the bringer of joy, can go on the list. That disgraceful excuse for a lollipop man should go on it, too.’
‘I kind of feel sorry for him, though,’ I said.
‘Because he’s a loser?’ Lottie rolled her eyes.
‘No.’
‘Because he’s almost killed half the kids at school?’
‘No.’
‘Why then?’
‘I’m not sure, I just… I don’t know. I like his face.’
‘Don’t forget he has freaky, bulging pocket, full of mouse brains,’ Lottie said.
‘OK, OK, we’ll put him on the list.’
We wrote the names in my scrapbook. If you want to see the list we made, please look at Exhibit G.
Lorelai
Mr Gideon
Hector (lollipop man)
‘There’s someone else I think we should put in,’ Lottie said, giving me a sneaky side-eye.
‘Who?’
‘Jax.’
‘Why?’ I knew it was just because she didn’t like him.
‘First,’ Lottie said, as though she’d prepared her answers, ‘he’s new. We don’t really know him.’
‘You’re new,’ I said.
‘Second,’ Lottie completely ignored me, ‘There was a kid at Lorelai’s house. It sounded like him.’
‘We couldn’t hear properly through the door – not enough to tell who it was. And I’ve never heard Jax talk in that whiny voice.’
‘Third,’ she carried on. ‘Do you not find it strange how he agrees with everything you say?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘Why would that be strange? I’m right pretty much all of the time.’
‘Fourth, he was acting like a lunatic with the lost property.’
‘He’s excited about the competition. He was being enthusiastic.’
‘And fifth,’ she pushed a photo towards me, ‘Look at this.’
‘It’s an old school photo, so what?’ I said.
‘Look at this boy here, Mo,’ she said, stabbing at a kid in the front row with her finger. ‘Tell me that isn’t Jax’s identical twin.’
It did look like Jax, but what was she getting at? The picture was from ten years ago. It had nothing to do with him.
‘So, that kid looks like Jax,’ I shrugged.
‘That kid looks exactly the same as Jax,’ Lottie said. ‘If it wasn’t impossible, I’d even say it was Jax.’
‘But it is impossible!’ She was making me so mad. ‘Just because you can’t handle the fact that Jax wants to be my friend and not yours, doesn’t mean he’s some evil psycho, who apparently time travels just so he can be in Year 6 at St Pippins for ever.’
‘I knew you’d react like this,’ she rolled her eyes. ‘Sometimes you’re so unreasonable, Mo.’
‘And I thought you were actually being nice, helping me find Schrodinger, but you’re as annoying as ever.’
She got up and stormed out of my room. ‘We need a timeout!’ she yelled, and slammed the door.
Fine with me.