The Listmaker by Robin Klein

of silver-coated paper and envelopes, but no matter how hard you pressed, writing just wouldn’t dent the surface. (Somehow, though, I could never make myself turf out any of her dud presents.)
    â€˜It’s the thought that counts, Dosho,’ Aunty Nat said, spraying the poor tree lavishly with Santa Snow as though it was some kind of fertiliser. ‘I’m sure everyone will be happy enough if whatever you’ve bought them still happens to be in one piece when they take the wrapping off. Piriel’s the one who’s hard to buy for. I’ve racked my brains, but I honestly can’t think
what
to get her.’
    â€˜How about a brooch?’ Corrie suggested. ‘That’s what I got Mum last year. A leaf brooch, it was, because of buying the nursery. Dad reckoned I should have bought her a gag instead for egging him on.’
    â€˜Piriel doesn’t wear brooches,’ I said, secretly wiping off some of the Santa Snow. They’d had it plastered all over the Christmas trees at the Moreton shopping centre, too. Piriel had remarked how silly it was, using snow as a decoration for hot Australian Christmases.
    â€˜Oh drat, are you
sure
? I thought everyone liked them,’ Aunty Nat said. ‘Maybe something for the new flat, then. I could always give Eileen a ring and see if she still has some of those unicorn bookends.’
    â€˜Piriel wouldn’t like those ghastly bookends. It’s an
apartment
, anyway, not a flat.’
    â€˜What’s the difference?’ Corrie asked inquisitively.
    â€˜Not a great deal, except for the price,’ Aunty Nat said, frowning at me a little. ‘And I’ll have you know, young lady, Eileen’s unicorns sell like hot cakes as fast as she can dab the glitter on their collars.
All
her ceramics do. I was thinking about buying a set of her Camelot wine goblets as a wedding present.’
    â€˜Piriel wouldn’t like those any better than the bookends. Anyway, Dad says it’s a
crime
to serve wine in anything except proper glasses.’
    â€˜There goes that idea, then. Oh, and speaking of the wedding, you haven’t told me much about your dress pattern and material yet. What with Horace just rescued out of the wall when you came back from Moreton yesterday, we never really got around to it.’
    It was odd, but I suddenly developed a mental block, unable to remember more than sketchy details. Aunt Dorothy’s attempts weren’t much better. ‘It was kind of old-fashioned, like the little girls wore in that TV series about the early American settlers,’ she said. ‘
Little Town on the Prairie
or whatever it was called. Sarah used to watch it when she was small. She liked the log cabin they all lived in.’
    â€˜
Little
House
on the Prairie
,’ I said, displeased. ‘And it wasn’t
anything
like those dresses, Aunt Dorothy!’
    â€˜Well, that’s what the pattern reminded
me
of. The material did, too. It was all-over violets or something.’
    â€˜You’re making it sound yuk! And it wasn’t, it was
excellent
material!’
    â€˜Well, the shoes and bag are nice enough,’ Aunty Nat said. ‘Though I would have preferred something fancier myself. Maybe you could tizz that handbag up a bit, Sarah. I’ve got a sparkly buckle that might do the trick.’
    â€˜
No!
Piriel has perfect taste and those things are just right the way they are!’ I snapped, then wished I hadn’t in front of Corrie Ryder.
    She looked as though she never growled at
anyone
. No matter how irritating people were, she’d probably just sit there with that sunny expression plastered all over her face. And it wasn’t surprising she was so unflappable, I thought crossly.
Anyone
would be if they’d always lived in a boring little place like Parchment Hills where nothing exciting ever happened! Even so, nobody had any right to look so relaxed all the time, to act