The Butterfly Club Page 2

  I saw that crying wasn’t going to get me anywhere, so I ran upstairs with Baby. But I didn’t put her back with big Rosebud. I tucked her away in my school skirt pocket.

  Then we set off with Mum. It felt very grown-up to be walking right past the Infants’ entrance, all the way to the Juniors.

  ‘I’m going to come in with you, girls,’ said Mum.

  ‘Oh, Mum. People will think we’re babies,’ said Maddie.

  ‘Mum’s not fussed about us, silly. It’s Tina,’ said Phil.

  ‘She needn’t be fussed about me. I’m not a baby. I’m exactly the same age as you,’ I said.

  But secretly I was quite glad that Mum was coming through the Juniors’ gate with us. It felt a bit strange being in the Juniors’ playground. The Juniors were very big. Some of them were practically grown-up. They stared at us – they stared at me in particular. I edged in between Phil and Maddie. I wanted to hold their hands but I didn’t want to look even more of a baby.

  ‘Let’s find this Miss Lovejoy,’ said Mum, marching into the school building.

  ‘Mum! I don’t think we’re allowed inside yet!’ said Phil.

  ‘We’re supposed to stay in the playground until they ring the bell!’ said Maddie.

  ‘I know, but I’m sure Miss Lovejoy won’t mind,’ said Mum.

  Miss Lovejoy looked as if she minded a lot when we found our new classroom.

  ‘Ah . . . school hasn’t quite started yet,’ she told us.

  ‘Yes, I know, but I wanted to have a little word with you about my girls.’ Mum spoke in the firm voice she always uses when she’s giving us a telling-off. But Miss Lovejoy’s voice was much, much firmer.

  ‘Your triplets, Philippa and Madeleine and Tina?’ she said. She obviously knew the register by heart already.

  ‘That’s right. Phil and Maddie are identical, as you can see – though if you look carefully, Phil has a mole on her cheek and Maddie has a little scar on her chin.’

  ‘I dare say I shall learn to tell them apart,’ said Miss Lovejoy.

  ‘And then there’s Tina.’ Mum took hold of me and gave my shoulders a little squeeze. ‘I don’t know whether you’ve been told about Tina . . . As you can see, she’s got a bit of catching up to do. She was very ill when she was born. She had to have major heart surgery and she’s had various problems since. She’s not allowed to play any contact sports, and I’d appreciate it if you kept an eye on her in the playground.’

  Miss Lovejoy looked at me. I didn’t want her to keep an eye on me. It was too fierce and beady.

  ‘Don’t worry, Mrs Maynard,’ she said. ‘I’m sure Tina will flourish in my class.’

  I didn’t think I was going to flourish. I thought I might very well wilt.

  ‘Off you pop now, girls,’ Miss Lovejoy went on, extra firmly.

  It was clear that she expected Mum to pop off too. So we all did as we were told.

  ‘Well,’ said Mum, when we were out in the playground again. ‘She’s a bit of an old dragon, isn’t she?’

  ‘Yes!’ said Phil.

  ‘Yes!’ said Maddie.

  ‘Yes yes yes,’ I said.

  ‘But I dare say she’s perfectly lovely when you get to know her,’ Mum added quickly.

  We weren’t sure we really wanted to get to know her.

  Chapter Three

  WHEN THE BELL rang for the start of school, Phil and Maddie and I ran fast so we could be first in line. Then we marched very, very quickly in through the door and down the corridor to our classroom.

  It wasn’t because we were eager to start lessons with Miss Lovejoy. We just needed to get to the classroom first so we could get a good seat. Maddie forged ahead when we were inside and bagged three places at the table right at the back. Selma Johnson tried to push her out of the way, but Maddie was very fierce and brave. She got her bottom on one seat. Phil shoved her way onto the other. I squeezed in between them. There! We had the perfect seats, and there was nothing Selma could do about it. She couldn’t just tip us off, not with Miss Lovejoy’s beady eyes on us.

  Some of the boys wanted to be on our table too.

  ‘No, go away, this is a girls’ table,’ said Phil.

  ‘Yes, push off. Go and find your own table,’ said Maddie.

  So they went away to sit at another table at the side. I was a bit disappointed. One of the boys was Harry. I’d have liked to have him on our table.

  But some quite nice girls, Sophie and Neera and Carys, came and sat with us. We all smiled at each other.

  ‘There!’ said Maddie proudly. ‘I got us the perfect table.’

  Everyone else barged about the room until they found places too. All this time Miss Lovejoy was standing by the whiteboard watching us, arms folded. Her eyes were extra beady.

  ‘Have we finished playing Musical Chairs?’ she said eventually. She didn’t shout, but she used the sort of voice that makes you sit up straight and quiver.

  ‘Welcome to Year Three. I am your teacher, Miss Lovejoy. I hope you will learn many things while you are in my class. We’re going to start learning straight away. You might have pushed and shoved and run wild in the Infants, but now that you are in the Juniors it’s time you learned some manners! Now stand up!’

  We stood up.

  ‘Pick up your school bags and line up by the door!’

  We did as we were told. We thought she was mad as we’d only just sat down, but no one dared argue, not even Selma Johnson.

  ‘That’s better,’ said Miss Lovejoy. ‘Now, you will sit where I tell you. Is that understood?’

  We all nodded.

  Miss Lovejoy’s beady eyes looked up and down our line. She started picking children at random and pointing to tables. She mixed girls with boys. She put Selma Johnson right at the front!

  Then she pointed to Phil and told her to go to a table at the side. Phil went to sit down. Maddie followed her, pulling me along too.

  ‘Excuse me,’ said Miss Lovejoy. ‘Where are you going, Madeleine?’

  She was the first teacher we’d had who could tell the difference between Phil and Maddie.

  ‘I’m going to sit with my sister, Miss Lovejoy,’ said Maddie. ‘And so is Tina.’

  ‘Did I tell you to sit with Philippa?’

  ‘No, but we always sit together. We have ever since we were in Reception.’ Maddie was very red in the face.

  ‘We don’t want to be a nuisance, Miss Lovejoy, but Maddie and I have to look after Tina,’ Phil said quickly.

  ‘I believe I am the teacher,’ said Miss Lovejoy. ‘It’s my job to look after all of you. Now, go and sit at the table on the other side of the room, Madeleine. Quickly! And you, Tina, come and sit here.’

  Oh no! She pointed at the table at the front. She actually pulled out the chair next to terrible Selma Johnson.

  ‘Sit here!’ she said.

  I clutched Baby tight in my hand for courage. ‘Mum says I have to sit with my sisters,’ I said in a tiny voice.

  Miss Lovejoy cupped her hand behind her ear. ‘I beg your pardon?’ she said.

  I didn’t dare repeat it. I sat down next to Selma. She moved her chair away as far as she could, pulling a face. I tried very hard not to cry. One tear escaped – and Selma saw.

  ‘Cry-baby!’ she hissed.

  Then Miss Lovejoy said that Kayleigh had to sit at our table. Selma smirked. Kayleigh wasn’t mean when Selma wasn’t around, but when she was with Selma she could be really horrid. She gave really painful Chinese burns.

  So I had Selma on one side and Kayleigh on the other!

  I hoped that some of the quite nice girls would be sent to join us. But the other three were boys – two big rough boys, Peter and Mick, and Alistair Davey. Alistair was quite small (though nowhere near as small as me), but even so, he had a very loud voice. He always knew the answers to all the questions. He spoke in an extremely know-it-all way, even to the teachers.

  If we had to have a boy at our table, I wished it could have been Harry.

 
; So there we were. Selma, Kayleigh, Peter, Mick, Alistair and me. The worst table ever. I craned my neck round to see Phil. She shook her head at me in sympathy, looking terribly worried. I peered round at Maddie. She pulled a sad face at me.

  I slid further and further down my chair, feeling smaller than ever. Perhaps I could turn into a little girl-mouse and scamper across the floor and out of the door.

  ‘Everyone settle down. Now, I need someone sensible to give out these lovely new exercise books,’ said Miss Lovejoy. Her beady eyes swivelled around the room.

  Phil sat up straight. She was nearly always picked to be book monitor. And flower monitor and cloakroom monitor. In the Infants she was famous for being reliable.

  But this was Miss Lovejoy’s class in the Juniors.

  ‘You, Selma! Come and give out the exercise books, please,’ she said.

  Oh no! Was Selma Johnson going to be teacher’s pet? I was doomed, doomed, doomed. I sank down further.

  ‘Sit up properly, Tina!’ said Miss Lovejoy.

  I wriggled upwards, staring at the table because I didn’t want to look at anyone.

  ‘And put your head up! Goodness me, you’re slumped like a little old lady!’

  Mick and Peter chuckled.

  Phil put up her hand.

  ‘Yes, Philippa?’

  ‘Excuse me, Miss Lovejoy, but I don’t think Tina is feeling very well. I think she’d feel better if she could sit next to me. Or Maddie. She isn’t used to being on her own,’ said Phil, very bravely indeed.

  ‘She isn’t on her own, Philippa. She’s sitting with five other children. Now stop worrying about your sister. She’s perfectly all right. Aren’t you, Tina?’

  No, I wasn’t perfectly all right. I felt very, very, very wrong, but I didn’t say anything. I sat as still and silent as Baby.

  Miss Lovejoy raised her eyebrows. I wondered if she was going to shout at me. Or smack me. Perhaps she had a cane in her cupboard and was going to beat me . . .

  Grandad had told us what school was like when he was a little boy. The teachers always shouted or threw chalk at you or whacked your hands with a ruler, and if you were very naughty you got the cane. Six times, on your bottom!

  Grandad said teachers weren’t allowed to punish children like that nowadays. But Miss Lovejoy was very old. Perhaps she was still stuck in the old days.

  She didn’t shout or smack or fetch a swishy cane from the cupboard though. She just shook her head at me.

  ‘Now, children, I want you to write on the top line of your new exercise books: My Summer Holidays. I shall write it out on the board for you, because you don’t want to start your brand-new book with a spelling mistake, do you? What do you think I want you to write about?’ she asked.

  We stared at her. Was this a trick question?

  ‘Come along, wake up!’

  Phil put her hand up. ‘You want us to write down what we did during our summer holidays?’ she said, a little nervously.

  ‘Brilliant deduction, Philippa,’ said Miss Lovejoy. ‘Right, get started, everyone. I want at least two pages. And while you’re writing, I want each of you to come out to me in turn. I want to hear you reading.’

  There was a big sigh all around the room. Two whole pages! And how terrifying, having to read out loud, standing beside Miss Lovejoy.

  It was my turn first!

  I felt my throat go dry when Miss Lovejoy pointed and beckoned. I had to stand really close to her. She smelled of peppermints and washing powder. She had a lot more wrinkles when you got near her.

  ‘Start reading, Tina,’ she said.

  I swallowed. I opened my mouth. No sound came out. I clutched Baby, who was hidden in my left hand.

  ‘Come on, Tina.’ Miss Lovejoy pointed to the first word. ‘What does this say?’

  She had short, stubby, very clean nails. My gran has long pointy red nails. Mum has short nails, but sometimes she goes to a nail parlour and then she gets amazing nails, even longer than Gran’s, with pretty sparkly patterns on them. Phil and Maddie and I can’t wait until we’re old enough to go to a nail parlour.

  ‘Tina, I’m waiting. Now, I know you can read. Off you go,’ said Miss Lovejoy.

  I knew I could read too. But I prefer being read to. Phil and Maddie sometimes pretend I’m their little girl and they take turns reading me stories.

  Mum reads to all three of us. She reads us stories she liked when she was a little girl.

  Dad reads to us out of his old comic books. He does all the funny accents and acts it out.

  Gran reads to us from her magazines. She tells us all about famous people.

  Grandad doesn’t read to us from a book or a comic or a magazine. He tells us stories straight out of his head. He always starts in the same way: Once upon a time there were three sisters with hair the colour of honey and eyes as blue as the sky. We chant the words along with him.

  Grandad’s stories might start in exactly the same way, but then each one becomes entirely different and brand-new. There’s a story about the three sisters taming a wild lion and a ferocious bear and a stampeding elephant. There’s a story about the three sisters flying to the moon in a space rocket. There’s a story about the three sisters growing fish tails and swimming the seven seas. There’s a story about the three sisters climbing the highest mountain in the world and setting up home with two yetis and their yeti cubs. There’s a story about the three sisters in a Victorian orphanage getting the better of a wicked matron. There’s a story about the three sisters capturing wicked pirates and finding an amazing treasure chest. There’s a story about the three sisters going back to the time of the dinosaurs and meeting up with a Tyrannosaurus Rex. Oh, there are so many stories.

  ‘Tina!’ said Miss Lovejoy. ‘Stop daydreaming and read.’

  She frightened me. I wasn’t used to grown-ups shouting at me, and I felt my eyes go all teary again. I looked at the page, but the words were swimming up and down like little fish.

  Then, suddenly, there was a rush and a jostle on either side of me. Phil was on my left side, Maddie on my right.

  ‘Please, Miss Lovejoy, we always read together,’ said Phil.

  ‘Tina can’t do it on her own, but she can when we’re with her,’ added Maddie.

  ‘Can we just show you how we do it, please, Miss Lovejoy?’ asked Phil.

  ‘Please please please, Miss Lovejoy?’ said Maddie.

  ‘Philippa! Madeleine! Are you the teachers in this classroom?’ said Miss Lovejoy.

  ‘No, but we’re Tina’s sisters, Miss Lovejoy.’

  ‘And we’re just bursting to show you that Tina can read nearly as well as us.’

  ‘Well, I don’t want you bursting in my classroom because I’m the person who would have to clear up the mess,’ said Miss Lovejoy. ‘Very well. Read together. Just the first paragraph, to get Tina started.’

  We all stared at her, amazed. Had we actually got the better of Miss Lovejoy?

  She handed us the book. We all held it, me squashed in between my sisters, and Phil started reading.

  ‘Once upon a time there was a fiddler who travelled far and wide, playing his music wherever he went,’ she read.

  ‘Folk laughed and clapped whenever he played,’ Maddie read.

  Then they both nudged me. I took a deep breath. I stared at the next sentence. I rubbed my eyes. The words stopped swimming up and down.

  ‘Little children used to sing along with the music. They clapped their hands in time to the tune. Sometimes they danced. The fiddler spread happiness wherever he went,’ I read.

  I mastered every word. I read all the way down to the bottom of the page. I managed to put expression into it too, so that it sounded like a real story.

  Phil smiled at me. Maddie smiled at me. Even Miss Lovejoy smiled at me!

  ‘There!’ she said. ‘Well, now I know you can read so well, Tina, I shall expect you to do it all by yourself next time. Sit down now, girls.’

  I worried about next time – but at least the
ordeal was over for today! I sat down next to Selma, my knees still a bit wobbly. She pulled a hideous face at me. So did Kayleigh. I tried to pull one back, but I don’t think it was very scary.

  It was Selma’s turn to read to Miss Lovejoy next. I couldn’t help hearing. She didn’t read very well at all. She kept stumbling over words and mixing up her ‘were’s and ‘where’s, and she couldn’t work out how to pronounce the word magician. It was a big surprise.

  She looked fiercer than ever when she sat back down. ‘What are you staring at, Little Bug?’ she hissed.

  ‘I’m not staring at anything,’ I said. ‘I can’t help my eyes looking at you because you’re right bang next to me.’

  ‘I wish I wasn’t! I hate and detest having to sit next to a dim little cry-baby like you,’ said Selma.

  ‘I think you’re the dim one,’ I said. Unwisely.

  Selma dug her sharp elbow right into my ribs and then kicked me hard on the ankle under the table. I couldn’t help giving a little squeal of pain.

  Miss Lovejoy heard, even though Alistair was booming confidently in her ear, reading as if he were on a platform addressing the whole school.

  ‘Hey, hey, Tina, Selma! What are you two up to? How dare you scuffle about in my classroom! Settle down at once and get on with your holiday writing,’ said Miss Lovejoy. She’d stopped smiling now. She’d gone back to being mean and scary. We knew we’d better get on with our work – or else!

  I opened up my new exercise book. I selected a newly sharpened pencil from my pencil case. I licked the lead a little to make it come out nice and black. I was all set, but I couldn’t get started.

  I wasn’t used to writing my own stories. Phil and Maddie and I made up lots of stories together. Sometimes they started like Grandad’s Three Sisters stories. Sometimes they were stories we made up all by ourselves.

  Phil liked to make up family stories. She invented great big families with lots of children. She drew them all and gave them special names.