back, my forehead not the slightest bit frowny because I’m having such a great time.
We never bumped into the other coach of mums and kids, but it didn’t matter a bit. We had a much better time with Joan’s friends. I’d still like to have camped in the Lake District or stayed on a farm in Devon or rented a holiday cottage in Cornwall. I’d have absolutely loved to have gone to Spain or Florida. But never mind – I bet I’ve had the best free day out ever!
If you want to find out more about Lily and Bliss and Baxter and Pixie, then read Jacqueline Wilson’s book
Have you seen Jacky’s official magazine yet? Find out more about the latest issue at www.jw-mag.com
‘ MICK’S COMING ROUND on Saturday,’ said Mum.
Skippy smiled. She always smiles. If you told her the Bogeyman was coming to take her out to tea she’d clap her hands and smile.
I didn’t smile. I can’t stick Mick. I don’t see why Mum has to have a stupid boyfriend at her age. She says he makes her happy. I can’t see why she can’t just be happy with Skippy and me.
‘Mick’s going to take us on a special day out!’ Mum announced.
Skippy smiled. I very nearly smiled too. We didn’t often get special days out.
I wondered where we might be going. A day trip to Disneyland?! No , maybe not. But perhaps Mick would take us to the Red River Theme Park and we could go on all the really brilliant rides where you swoop up and down and it’s like you’re flying right up in the sky.
‘Will he take us to the Red River Theme Park, Mum?’
‘Don’t be daft, Hayley,’ said Mum. ‘It costs a fortune. Mick’s not made of money. No, we’re going to have a lovely day out in the country.’
‘The
country
?’ I said.
‘What’s the country?’ Skippy asked.
‘It’s boring,’ I said.
I hadn’t actually been to the country much, but of course I knew all about it. We’ve got this old video about kids living on a farm in the country. The main girl in it is called Hayley like me. It’s a good film but the country looks
awful
. Cold and empty and muddy, with cows that chase you.
I moaned, and Mum said I was a spoiled little whatsit, and I went into our bedroom and sulked. Skippy came and cuddled up beside me.
‘We don’t like the country,’ she said, to show me she was on my side – though Skippy is always on
everyone’s
side.
‘That’s right, Skip. We don’t like the country. And we don’t like Mick.’
‘We don’t like Mick,’ Skippy echoed obediently, but she didn’t sound so sure.
When Mick knocked at our door at nine o’clock on Saturday morning, Skippy went rushing up to him, going, ‘Mick, Mick, Mick!’
Skippy is useless at not liking people.
I am brilliant at it. And Mick was making it easy-peasy. He looked
ridiculous
. He always looks a bit wet and weedy, but today he was wearing a big woolly jumper right up to his chin and awful baggy cord trousers and
boots
. Honestly. I knew Mum could act a bit loopy at times but she had to be barking mad to go round with Mick.
‘Ready, girls?’ he said, swinging Skippy round and round while she squealed and kicked her legs, her shoes falling off. ‘Have you got any welly boots, Skip? I think you’ll need them.’ He put on a silly voice (well, his
own
voice is silly, but this was sillier). ‘It gets right mucky in the country, lass.’
Skippy put on my old Kermit wellies and her Minnie Mouse mac.
‘It’s a Mouse-Frog!’ said Mick, and Skippy fell about laughing.
I sighed heavily.
‘What about
your
wellies, Hayley?’ said Mick. ‘And I should put a jumper on too.’
I took no notice. As if I’d be seen dead in wellies! And I was wearing the simply incredible designer T-shirt Mum found for 20p down at the school jumble. I wasn’t going to cover it up with an old sweater even if it
snowed
.
Mum looked like she wanted to give me a shake, but she got distracted looking for our old thermos flask. We were having a picnic. I’d helped cut the
We never bumped into the other coach of mums and kids, but it didn’t matter a bit. We had a much better time with Joan’s friends. I’d still like to have camped in the Lake District or stayed on a farm in Devon or rented a holiday cottage in Cornwall. I’d have absolutely loved to have gone to Spain or Florida. But never mind – I bet I’ve had the best free day out ever!
If you want to find out more about Lily and Bliss and Baxter and Pixie, then read Jacqueline Wilson’s book
Have you seen Jacky’s official magazine yet? Find out more about the latest issue at www.jw-mag.com
‘ MICK’S COMING ROUND on Saturday,’ said Mum.
Skippy smiled. She always smiles. If you told her the Bogeyman was coming to take her out to tea she’d clap her hands and smile.
I didn’t smile. I can’t stick Mick. I don’t see why Mum has to have a stupid boyfriend at her age. She says he makes her happy. I can’t see why she can’t just be happy with Skippy and me.
‘Mick’s going to take us on a special day out!’ Mum announced.
Skippy smiled. I very nearly smiled too. We didn’t often get special days out.
I wondered where we might be going. A day trip to Disneyland?! No , maybe not. But perhaps Mick would take us to the Red River Theme Park and we could go on all the really brilliant rides where you swoop up and down and it’s like you’re flying right up in the sky.
‘Will he take us to the Red River Theme Park, Mum?’
‘Don’t be daft, Hayley,’ said Mum. ‘It costs a fortune. Mick’s not made of money. No, we’re going to have a lovely day out in the country.’
‘The
country
?’ I said.
‘What’s the country?’ Skippy asked.
‘It’s boring,’ I said.
I hadn’t actually been to the country much, but of course I knew all about it. We’ve got this old video about kids living on a farm in the country. The main girl in it is called Hayley like me. It’s a good film but the country looks
awful
. Cold and empty and muddy, with cows that chase you.
I moaned, and Mum said I was a spoiled little whatsit, and I went into our bedroom and sulked. Skippy came and cuddled up beside me.
‘We don’t like the country,’ she said, to show me she was on my side – though Skippy is always on
everyone’s
side.
‘That’s right, Skip. We don’t like the country. And we don’t like Mick.’
‘We don’t like Mick,’ Skippy echoed obediently, but she didn’t sound so sure.
When Mick knocked at our door at nine o’clock on Saturday morning, Skippy went rushing up to him, going, ‘Mick, Mick, Mick!’
Skippy is useless at not liking people.
I am brilliant at it. And Mick was making it easy-peasy. He looked
ridiculous
. He always looks a bit wet and weedy, but today he was wearing a big woolly jumper right up to his chin and awful baggy cord trousers and
boots
. Honestly. I knew Mum could act a bit loopy at times but she had to be barking mad to go round with Mick.
‘Ready, girls?’ he said, swinging Skippy round and round while she squealed and kicked her legs, her shoes falling off. ‘Have you got any welly boots, Skip? I think you’ll need them.’ He put on a silly voice (well, his
own
voice is silly, but this was sillier). ‘It gets right mucky in the country, lass.’
Skippy put on my old Kermit wellies and her Minnie Mouse mac.
‘It’s a Mouse-Frog!’ said Mick, and Skippy fell about laughing.
I sighed heavily.
‘What about
your
wellies, Hayley?’ said Mick. ‘And I should put a jumper on too.’
I took no notice. As if I’d be seen dead in wellies! And I was wearing the simply incredible designer T-shirt Mum found for 20p down at the school jumble. I wasn’t going to cover it up with an old sweater even if it
snowed
.
Mum looked like she wanted to give me a shake, but she got distracted looking for our old thermos flask. We were having a picnic. I’d helped cut the
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