Page 6 - Peekaboo Baby

“It’s not the same. And it’s always the popular, pretty girls who get the crown.”
I flicked a look to our Year’s Princess Table behind us: a poster for the Mermaid Crown if ever there was one. Not one of them was a Curly. Not one had my broad swimmer shoulders. They all had small feet (‘Where did you get your size sevens from, Vivien?’ Thanks, Mimi.) Princess Table all had white teeth as straight as their hair (they were allowed straighteners!), and no spots (witchcraft, must be), and our blue checked school skirt looked sleek on them, not potato-sack-like. I picked at mine.
“The Mermaid Crown is traditional,” I offered weakly.
“Hero says traditions are just an excuse not to change. Hero says mermaids were invented by the pat-ri-archy.” Eleni stumbled over the last word, then closed her eyes. Like I wouldn’t understand.
Shrinking stomach now shriveled.
“Yeah, but,” shrinking voice too – even though it was a big, massive, mammoth BUT –, “Mimi and I need the Mermaid Crown and the Festival. It brings in extra customers. If we don’t make enough from the tourists this summer, Enchanted Tails might go bust.”
We’d had the worst winter ever for takings; we were already more hard-up than usual. I was having to wear last year’s blue anorak (already secondhand) because Mimi still couldn’t afford to buy me one of those trendy windbreakers everyone else seemed to have. Museums would soon be queuing up to put my phone on display. My stomach sprouted some lumpy potatoes to fill my potato-sack skirt.
“Sorry, I didn’t know things were that bad,” I heard Eleni sigh. Now we both went eyes- to-our-plate quiet. The high-pitched shrieking from Princess Table seemed to get louder. “So, what time’s your Mum getting here?”
I looked up again, relieved: Eleni’s eyes were doing olive branch. I beamed (whizz-pop- bang). “After seven-ish tonight!” (Everything was an ish with Mum.) “We can drop the school dinner campaign if you want, just do littering,” I added. Mum was all that mattered right now.
Mum was finally coming home.