Mo Lottie and the Junkers Page 2

  And I don’t even know where to start with his clothes. They should have been mismatched and holey, but instead they were cool and really brought out the forlornness in his face. I suspected his mum chose them for him.

  ‘What have you put in your box?’ I asked.

  ‘That’s private,’ he said, putting his hand on the lid like I was going to try to look inside. As if I’d be stupid enough to attempt it right in front of his face. ‘What have you put in yours?’

  ‘A hair from the tail of a unicorn. He gave it to me to thank me for saving his life.’

  ‘Right,’ Mo said.

  Sadie walked in carrying a fat, orange cat under her arm like a handbag.

  ‘What are you doing in here?’ Mo said, looking outraged. ‘And what are you doing with Schrodinger?’

  ‘Perow meow prew,’ Sadie said.

  Mo just looked at her.

  ‘Preowt.’

  ‘What is she doing in here? What is she doing with my cat? And why does she talk in that way?’ Mo turned to me, bright red in his plump cheeks.

  ‘She came to see what you put in your box, obviously,’ I rolled my eyes. ‘Also, Schrodinger is a stupid name. Let’s call him Tiger instead, and get him a stripey jacket.’

  ‘Let’s not,’ he said.

  ‘And Sadie was just starting to talk when Mum left. Meow was her first word. She’s saving all her other words until Mum comes back for us.’

  ‘Where’s your mum gone?’

  ‘She’s on a top-secret archeological dig. As a matter of fact, she’s discovered the fossil of a dinosaur that nobody’s ever found before. She’s calling it the LottieSadieSaurus. She’ll come for us when her work is done.’

  ‘Why didn’t she take you with her?’ Mo asked. (I discovered early on that he is not very tactful.)

  ‘No schools in the Sahara,’ I said.

  ‘Right,’ said Mo.

  Mo

  I had two strange girls in my bedroom.

  One of them was throwing stuff out of my drawers while cuddling my cat like he was a teddy bear. He seemed to like it, too, which was so annoying. The other girl was asking rude questions and telling me stories about her mum that I wasn’t a hundred per cent sure were true. What had my life become?

  ‘We always wanted a brother,’ Lottie said. ‘You’re not quite what we imagined, but you’ll have to do.’

  ‘What did you imagine?’

  ‘Less short, less ginger.’ Lottie put her hands on her hips.

  ‘Eroww,’ Sadie said.

  ‘Sadie, you shouldn’t call people chubby,’ Lottie said.

  ‘Rowwr.’

  ‘Yes, even if they are. And that hat doesn’t suit Tiger – try the green one.’

  How offensive! ‘Really? Well, I never wanted one sister, never mind two. And stop putting hats on my cat!’

  ‘That’s OK. I’m sure you were much too busy putting things in alphabetical order to think about the joy of sisters. We must be a fabulous surprise for you. And how dare you try to take Tiger’s hat from him when it makes him look like a white-hot fashionista?’

  My room was in a state. They were out of control, like a whirlwind. They were a girlwind. Just then the doorbell rang and they ran off, leaving me to wonder what a white-hot fashionista was.

  Lottie

  Our new front door has some of that cloudy glass in it, so you can see a deformed reflection of whoever is on the other side.

  As we reached the bottom of the stairs, I could see the outline of a small woman with long, bouncy hair. For a second I thought it was Mum – that she’d come back for us at last. But as I pulled open the door, it wasn’t Mum’s face I saw.

  There was a stranger there. At first I thought she was young and extraordinarily beautiful, but when I looked again, I changed my mind. She had masses of shiny blonde hair that went all the way down her back. I’d never have thought it was possible to have too much hair, but somehow she managed it. And there was something off about the colour – it didn’t go with her skin or her eyes. Her face wasn’t right either. It looked like her skin was stretched almost too tight over her cheeks, and her neck looked a bit crinkly. My nana has a crinkly neck, and it looks lovely, but on this woman, with her tight face, it was all wrong.

  ‘Oh,’ I said, feeling like I might cry.

  ‘Good afternoon, sweet girls,’ the lady smiled, looking over my shoulder and down the hallway behind me. ‘Have you just moved in? Could I perhaps have a little chat with your mother and father?’

  ‘Prow,’ Sadie said and walked off into the living room.

  ‘Did the removal truck and boxes give it away?’ I said, annoyed that I could have thought for a second that this woman was my mum.

  ‘What a cherub you are!’ She clapped her hands. ‘Just delightful! Now, angel, – your mother and father?’

  ‘Mother! Father!’ I called. ‘There’s someone at the door for you.’

  ‘I’ll just step inside, shall I?’ the woman said, peering into the boxes in the hall as Emma and Dad came out of the kitchen. ‘Ah! There you are, at last. I came to introduce myself – I’m your new neighbour, Lorelai. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends.’

  ‘Hello,’ said Emma. ‘Lovely to meet you. I’d offer you a coffee but we’ve not unpacked the kettle yet.’ Emma and Dad laughed, but Lorelai just stared at them.

  ‘I’ve just moved in myself across the road,’ Lorelai said. ‘And I don’t even have a kettle, so I’m happy to wait while you look for yours.’

  ‘Oh, right, of course,’ Emma said, while Dad gave her a look. ‘You’d better come in.’

  ‘While you’re looking, you couldn’t be a doll and loan me some sugar, could you?’ Lorelai walked past Emma, towards the kitchen.

  Emma raised an eyebrow at Dad who shook his head.

  ‘No problem,’ Emma said. ‘Please make yourself at home.’

  ‘I think she already has,’ Dad whispered to me as he followed them into the kitchen.

  Rather than listening to whatever boring conversation they’d be having, I went to find Sadie.

  St Pippins Primary

  Mo

  The shiny lady didn’t leave until dinnertime. Even though she’d only just moved in to my lovely old house, there were no vans parked outside or boxes in sight and she said she didn’t have anything to do. It seemed strange – our house was chaotic, there was stuff everywhere. When I peeped over at number 79, the only thing that looked different was that all the curtains were closed. I kept sneaking peeks all weekend, to try to catch a glimpse inside, but the curtains stayed shut all day and all night. It was the same when we left for school on Monday.

  ‘It was nice of Emma to force you to show me the way to school,’ Lottie said the next morning, as we reached the zebra crossing in front of the gates.

  ‘Mum is always nice,’ I said, picking up a loom bracelet that was about to fall down a drain. ‘She probably put a chocolate muffin in your schoolbag, too.’

  ‘That probably has germs,’ Lottie said, wrinkling her nose at the bracelet. ‘But, yay! Muffin!’ She started fiddling around in her bag and nearly stepped into the road without looking.

  ‘Watch out. We have to wait until the lollipop man says we can cross.’

  ‘You have a lollipop man? How adorable! I thought that only happened in historical school dramas.’

  The lollipop man dropped his stick and stared at us from the pavement opposite.

  ‘What’s his name?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’ I peered at the small part of his face that wasn’t covered by his neon hat, which was pulled down low, almost over his eyes. ‘It isn’t Derek, the old lollipop man. This one must be new.’

  ‘He’s quite starey, isn’t he?’ Lottie said.

  The lollipop man suddenly stepped out into the road, without even looking at the traffic. His stick was on the floor, so none of the drivers saw him coming. Cars came skidding to a halt. Horns beeped loudly. Drivers shouted out of their windows. Finger
swears were thrown around like it was a 12A movie. He didn’t even look at them, just carried on staring at us.

  ‘You need to pick up the stick!’ Lottie shouted at him.

  ‘Let’s just cross,’ I said. We were attracting far too much attention, and I really prefer to keep a low profile at school.

  ‘He’s probably going to be fired by the end of the day,’ Lottie said, as we made it safely to the other side of the road and the traffic started moving again.

  I watched him picking up his stick while kids and their parents laughed behind their hands at him. He looked a bit lost, sort of out of place. I felt sorry for him so I turned back and gave him a smile and a thumbs-up.

  He winked at me.

  Lottie

  I don’t know why Emma thought Mo would be able to help me settle in at school. I’d been there five minutes and I could already tell that he was the type of kid who pretended to be sick at lunchtime so he could spend the hour alone in the medical room, reading. He didn’t seem to have any friends. Of course, I didn’t either, but that didn’t bother me at all. Other people have always gravitated towards me – I think it’s because of my vibrant aura.

  It was a small school and, as there was only a month between mine and Mo’s birthdays, we were in the same class.

  ‘Anyone not in a group for the Discovery Day Competition yet?’ Mr Chartwell, our teacher, said, on my first morning at St Pippins.

  Mo put his hand up and looked at the desk.

  I felt rather sorry for him. Yes, he was strange and grumpy, enjoyed picking up trash from the street and had a terrible attitude to hair, but he wasn’t all bad. Besides, everybody should have a friend.

  ‘May I work with Mo?’ I asked.

  Mr Chartwell smiled. Mo looked surprised. ‘Yes, of course, Lottie. I’m passing round a handout with the competition details – have a read through and then you can all start brainstorming.’

  At this point, I’d like to refer you to Exhibit A from the evidence box:

  Mo turned to me while I read through the handout. ‘Before we start, Lottie, there’s something I want to say…’

  ‘It’s OK, Mo, you don’t have to thank me for working with you. You’re basically my brother, after all.’

  ‘No, I was going to say that this competition is really important. In case you didn’t know, my dad was an important biomedical engineer…’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘He was a brilliant scientist and I want to be just as good as him. I need to win this competition, so I don’t want you taking over and ruining it. It’s probably best if you follow my instructions very carefully at every stage, or just watch and let me do everything.’

  ‘Well, that’s rude and ungrateful.’

  ‘I thought you just said I didn’t have to thank you!’

  ‘Of course I said that, Morris, because THAT is what people say in these kinds of situations. Everybody knows that.’

  ‘But why say it if you don’t mean it?’

  We were interrupted by a boy with straight, black hair and shifty eyes who slumped himself down in the chair next to us. ‘I’m new. The teacher said I have to work with you.’

  ‘I’m new, too,’ I said, giving him my most dazzling smile. If he was on our team, I wanted him to be on my side. ‘I’m Lottie, this is Mo. What’s your name?’

  ‘It’s Jax,’ he said.

  The New Boy

  *Lottie, who has been fidgeting for the past few minutes, starts to jiggle urgently on her chair*

  Lottie:

  Mo, I need a wee.

  Mo:

  Go then. What do you want? My permission?

  Lottie:

  I want you to come with me.

  Mo:

  Gross.

  Lottie:

  And wait outside the door, I mean.

  Mo:

  Why?

  Lottie:

  I’m scared the Junkers will come while I’m tinkling.

  Mo:

  You are not. You just don’t trust me with the vlog on my own. But you’re going to have to either trust me or wet yourself, because there is no way I’m coming to the toilet with you.

  Lottie:

  Fine. I can hold it.

  *She crosses her legs, jiggles for another second, and then jumps to her feet*

  Lottie:

  I can’t hold it! Don’t say anything about me while I’m gone!

  *She runs out of the room*

  *Mo moves close to the camera*

  Mo *whispering*:

  Before we carry on with the story, I should just warn you not to believe everything Lottie says. She’s not a liar, exactly – well, mostly she’s not a liar – but she does exaggerate A LOT. Just keep that in mind.

  *Footsteps can be heard, quietly at first, but growing louder, and Lottie runs into the room*

  Lottie *out of breath*:

  I’m back.

  Mo:

  You didn’t wash your hands.

  Lottie:

  This is an emergency situation: normal rules don’t apply. Everyone knows that.

  Mo:

  Gross.

  *Lottie grabs at Mo*

  Mo:

  Get off me, Lottie! I don’t want you to touch me with your wee fingers.

  Lottie *laughs wildly*:

  Serves you right for not coming with me. Now you are covered in my wee residue.

  Mo:

  I hate you.

  Lottie:

  Now where was I?

  Mo:

  I’m doing the next bit – you’ve been talking for ages.

  Lottie *sighs*:

  Fine, if it will stop you from being in a mood.

  Mo

  The new boy snatched the handout and started doodling on it with black pen. And, by doodling, I mean he drew all over my epically important competition poster. And, by black pen, I mean he used unerasable ink.

  If you take a look at Exhibit A from the evidence box, you will see the doodle in its original form. It’s in the bottom, right corner of the handout.

  ‘If you want to win this dumb competition,’ he said, smudging his doodle with his sleeve, ‘I should lead the group. Science is my thing.’

  Lottie raised an eyebrow at me. ‘Ooh,’ she said.

  ‘What?’ Jax looked up from his mindless graffiti.

  ‘Well,’ Lottie said, apparently all excited at the disaster unfolding in front of her. ‘It’s just that…’

  ‘Science is my thing,’ I said, taking the pen out of Jax’s hand and putting it firmly down on the desk.

  Jax looked from me to Lottie and back again.

  ‘Hey, no problem, bud, I was just trying to help. You can take charge,’ he said.

  I felt a bit bad.

  ‘No, no, it’s fine. You should take charge,’ I said, hoping he’d refuse and insist that I did.

  ‘Why don’t we all just work as a team?’ Lottie said. ‘Agreed?’

  ‘Agreed,’ said Jax.

  ‘Agreed,’ I said, but I snuck the pen into my pocket, just in case.

  She’d only been at school for a day, but it was like Lottie had spent her whole life at St Pippins. By first break, she was chatting with a group of girls from my class. By lunchtime, she was their leader – bossing them around, getting them to plait her hair and making them all laugh hysterically whenever she said anything. Worse than that, even the boys liked her. When a ball was kicked out of the MUGA, she dribbled it back in, took it past three of the kids from the school football team, and scored a goal. You should have seen the respect on their faces. I’ve known them for seven years, and they’ve never looked at me like that.

  I wasn’t jealous, exactly. I’d never wanted to be friends with any of them anyway. But I was annoyed.

  ‘I thought you two were friends,’ Jax said, sitting on the wall of the vegetable patch next to me.

  ‘We’re NOT friends,’ I said. ‘My mum is going out with Lottie’s dad, so we all live together.’

  Jax gave me a sharp l
ook. ‘Like brother and sister, then?’

  ‘No. Not like that, either.’

  ‘Your name is Mo, right?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘And you’d probably better not talk to me if you want to be one of the popular kids.’ It was only fair to warn him, after all.

  Jax flicked his hair back from his face. ‘You know, I’ve never been bothered about the popular kids.’

  I looked across at him, wondering if he was trying to trick me.

  He smiled suddenly – a quick, bright smile that cracked across his face like a flash of lightning. ‘Do you want to work on ideas for the Discovery Competition?’

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ I said, trying to play it cool while feeling a warm glow in my heart.

  ‘If we come up with ideas while Lottie is busy with her friends, she’ll have to go along with what we want.’

  ‘She’s very stubborn,’ I said.

  ‘But then it will be us against her,’ Jax watched my face. ‘Why should she always get her own way? Science is your thing, remember?’

  ‘So, you want to team up with me? Against Lottie?’

  ‘Partners?’ Jax said, holding out his hand.

  ‘Partners,’ I nodded, and shook it.

  ‘So, tell me more about what you like doing, Mo. Maybe we could come up with an idea to do with your interests,’ Jax said, offering me a gummy worm from a bag he had hidden in his pocket.

  ‘Sweets aren’t allowed at school,’ I said, thinking it was something else he hadn’t realised because of his newness.

  ‘Nobody has to know.’ He bit the head off an orange one.

  A Warning

  Lottie

  Mo didn’t seem to want me around at playtime, so I had to hang out with some of the other kids from my class. At lunchtime, I collected my tray from the dinner lady and looked around for Mo. He was still in the lunch queue, waiting for his chicken sausages and spicy wedges, a little way back from the rest of the class, on his own like always. I really did feel sorry for him. I sat down at a table and kept a spare seat next to me, so he could sit with me, but instead he walked to the back of the hall and sat with a bunch of year one kids who threw peas at him. My table soon filled up with girls from my class, so I chatted to them while I ate.