‘It wasn’t anyone’s fault,’ I said quickly. I was terrified of getting Harley into trouble. We just had a little tiny explore,’ I said. ‘So you have been thorough in your counting?’ she said. I thought she might shout at me but she smiled instead. She looked hard at me, the lipsticked corners of her mouth twitching. ‘Are they the names of the monkeys?’ Then I clapped my hand over my mouth. Flotsam and jetsam from former lives.’ ‘Flotsam? Jetsam?’ I thought hard. There’s nothing very interesting up there, as far as I can remember. We’re not allowed on the top floor,’ I said. ‘I tried counting some of the rooms,’ I said.
I swallowed, pretending to be looking at the books on the shelf, not wanting to look her in the eye. ‘Did you try and count the rooms in Melchester to see if it measured up to Misselthwaite?’ she asked. She might be stuck indoors in her wheelchair but she didn’t miss much. ‘No, I think Jodie is more interested in Jed the gardener,’ said Mrs Wilberforce. It’s Jodie who’s really interested in gardening,’ I said.
We grew hyacinths at my last school but mine went all wonky.
‘Are you tempted to find a secret garden of your own? Harold – Mr Wilberforce – could give you your own little plot.’ ‘I’m not very good at growing things. I read it twice,’ I said, slotting it back in its place on the shelf. Did you enjoy The Secret Garden?’ ‘It was wonderful. ‘I could maybe push your wheelchair, Mrs Wilberforce, and take you for walks?’ ‘Oh, darling, that’s a very sweet offer, but I’m far too heavy for a little girl like you.’ ‘Well, my sister Jodie could push you.’ ‘Mmm, maybe not! But thank you for the offer all the same.’ ‘Thank you for the lovely writing book.’ ‘Feel free to borrow lots more storybooks. Got up, sat in my wheelchair, read, went to bed.’ I struggled. I wondered about keeping a journal, but what would I write now? Every entry would be identical. I bought it years ago in Italy but I could never think of anything to put in it. It’s a manu- script book for your own stories.
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