The Girls from See Saw Lane by Sandy Taylor Page B

enjoyed every moment of the evening and I knew she’d want to go there again. I wasn’t so sure. I thought back to the cafe and how much I’d liked sitting and talking to Ralph and how he’d looked at me as if he’d really liked me. And do you know what? I thought, I think he does like me. I really think he does.
    â€˜Come on, Dottie,’ said Mum. ‘This is our stop.’
    I followed her through the gates, past a lawn fringed with geraniums, into the hospital, feeling like a little kid. The waiting room was packed and I felt like a right lemon sitting there like Long John Silver; the only thing missing was the parrot. The waiting room was full of men who had obviously been in fights, old shaky-looking people and squealing toddlers with bright red cheeks and sweaty heads.
    â€˜Do you think they’ll be able to fix it?’ I said.
    â€˜We’ll see what the doctor says,’ said Mum quietly. She took hold of my hand and held it on her lap.
    I loved my mum.
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    H alf an hour later I came out of the treatment room with the offending eyelash removed. I was relieved, but my eye did feel sore and I felt a bit sorry for myself. I put the eyepatch in the bin on the way out.
    Â When we got home, Mary was in the kitchen looking at Clark’s latest set of photographs. He stared at me when I walked in and said: ‘Not a bad match, Dottie.’
    I scowled at him. ‘What?’ 
    â€˜Your glass eye, it’s not a bad match.’
    â€˜Oh very funny, ha ha, you’re a laugh a minute, Clark Perks.’
    â€˜Did it hurt?’ asked Mary, blinking. Her eyelashes, of course, still looked fantastic. At least she actually cared. She was the only person apart from Mum who had actually considered my feelings.
    â€˜A bit,’ I said. I didn’t want her to feel bad, because although technically it was her fault, I knew she hadn’t meant to hurt me. ‘Not much,’ I said and I put a big smile on my face.
    â€˜How come only one eyelash got stuck?’
    â€˜I dunno. The other one came off in the night.’
    Clark added: ‘And was bludgeoned to death in cold blood by Rita. Her trial comes up next week. We’re all pushing for the death sentence.’
    I thought that was really funny, Mum didn’t though. ‘That’s a terrible thing to say about your sister, Clark,’ she said.
    â€˜She’s my sister?!!!!’ screamed Clark and he grabbed his throat and made this choking sound and slid under the table. Mum was laughing now. We left them to it and went up to my bedroom. It smelled of Rita’s perfume and hairspray. I opened the window to let a bit of air in.
    â€˜Where’s Rita?’ asked Mary.
    â€˜Her and the insurance man have gone to talk to the vicar this afternoon.’
    â€˜I wish it was me and Elton talking to the vicar,’ said Mary.
    Fat chance, I thought, given that once he'd sung that one song to her in the club, he'd barely looked at her for the rest of the night.
    Mary sat on the edge of my bed. ‘I know it’s a bit of a long shot.’
    â€˜What is?’
    â€˜Me getting into the art school in Paris. They only take the best, but my drawings are getting better and better, I’m almost there, I’m almost ready to apply.’
    â€˜That’s great, Mary. I mean, I don’t want you to go because I’ll miss you, I really, really will, but if you think you’re ready then you should try.’
    Mary frowned. ‘I know.’
    â€˜What’s wrong then?’
    â€˜I’ll lose Elton.’
    â€˜Not necessarily.’
    â€˜Elton is really talented, there are people round him all the time, when I say “people”, I mean girls. Specifically. There are a lot of girls and most of them are taller than I am. And better developed.’
    Mary flopped back onto the bed with her arms stretched above her head. She stared up at the patch of mould on the ceiling