Читать книгу A Dog Called Homeless - Sarah Lean, Sarah Lean - Страница 11

“QUIET NOW. EVERYONE LOOK THIS WAY. Cally … Cally!”

Miss Steadman glared. “Put the felt pen down. Now, please. Thank you, Cally. Now I have something to tell you all.”

In registration Miss Steadman told us that our school was going to raise money for a charity called Angela’s Hospice. Angela’s Hospice is a place nearby where they care for sick children and try to make their wishes come true. Miss Steadman said the members of the student council would be along in a minute to tell us how we were going to raise the money.

While we waited for them, Miss Steadman asked us what our wishes were. We wished for fast cars (mostly boys), to meet famous people, for new computers and Xboxes, that all the tigers, bears, dolphins and whales were saved (mostly girls), a rocket to go to the stars (me) and to save the planet.

Daniel Bird shouted out that he wished he could win the lottery. He said if he won, he’d buy a time machine and go back to the day he cut off half his finger in his granddad’s deckchair. He’d pick it up and make sure it got to the hospital in a bag of ice and have it sewn back on.

I said, “Why don’t you have the time machine take you back to just before your granddad sat down and get your hand out the way!”

Obviously.

“Don’t be stupid,” said Daniel, “there’s no such thing as time machines.”

He was so annoying.

“That’s enough bickering, Cally, Daniel,” said Miss Steadman. “What other wishes do we have?”

Daisy said she wished for world peace. Mia folded her arms and scowled at me. I thought she’d be wishing her hair wasn’t so fuzzy. Instead she said, “I wish that this year’s concert is the best one ever.”

Daniel continued, “I wish I could go to Disneyland, Miss.”

Miss Steadman stopped the calling out saying, “Funny Daniel should mention Disneyland because sometimes the children at Angela’s Hospice have that same wish.” Her voice went quiet. “It’s good to remember how lucky we are to be healthy. The money we’ll raise isn’t just for trips to Disneyland. It’s also for expensive equipment for very poorly children.”

Just then the two children from the student council came in. Jessica Stubbs and Harry Turner were holding a piece of paper between them and stood at the front of the class.

“The student council have decided we’re going to do a sponsored silence to raise money for Angela’s Hospice,” said Jessica, reading from the sheet. “We need three volunteers from each class to be silent and hopefully everyone will sponsor them.”

Harry waved the sponsorship forms.

I wasn’t really listening. The tip of my green felt pen had gone inside the tube. I was trying to poke it out with a compass under the desk. We had geography next and you always need a green felt tip in geography.

“We’re going to do it next Tuesday,” said Harry. “The people doing the silence are not allowed to talk between nine o’clock in the morning and three o’clock in the afternoon.”

“You have to be really sure you can do it,” said Jessica.

I took off the bottom end of the pen and poked through the top again. The inky felt shot out and landed on the floor by Florence. I tried to tell her to roll it over with her feet. She told me to shush. I told her to get it quick because it might leak into the carpet.

“It’s for an important cause,” said Jessica.

Miss Steadman rapped on her desk. “What’s going on over there now?” she said sharply.

Florence told her I wasn’t listening and was trying to distract her.

“I was just …” I started to say but Miss Steadman interrupted.

“Enough tattling, thank you!” she snapped. “Or we’ll be having words at the end of the day again.”

I watched the ink make a dark patch on the carpet.

“So,” she carried on, taking a deep breath, “who thinks they can manage to be silent for a whole school day? Any volunteers?”

She scanned the room, straight away looking at the quiet ones and the good ones. She nodded and smiled and thanked the two children who put their hands up and their names got added to the list.

“One more volunteer?” Miss Steadman asked.

Then I saw her eyes flick across to me. They silently said, Not you, Cally Fisher, not you. You can’t do it.

I’d seen the same disappointed, disbelieving eyes look at me like that the weekend before at the cemetery. Then she looked away, just like Dad had done. Sometimes you just have to prove people wrong. Sometimes you just want someone to believe you’re more than they think you are. Plus there was also the fact that the sneaky traitor Mia was about to put her hand up.

I reached over and held Mia’s arm down and shot my hand in the air. I ignored the giggles and whispers, the feet reaching out to nudge each other. I ignored Daniel Bird’s loud “Ha!” and Mia’s gaping mouth.

Jessica and Harry looked at Miss Steadman, pencil poised, not writing my name on their list. Miss Steadman shushed the murmurings and giggling and looked out of the window. Then she looked in the register as if she was checking for something. Her mouth twitched. She took a deep breath and straightened her back.

“What we need is—”

“It’s for an important cause,” I said quickly.

Just then I saw Daisy whispering to Mia. I saw Mia smirk and fold her arms, her eyes going narrow.

I straightened my arm, zipped my lips. Miss Steadman leaned back into her chair. I saw her heart go soft.

“What we need is people like you, Cally, who are willing to take up the challenge. Thank you, you can put your hand down now.”

She nodded to Jessica as if to say why aren’t you writing her name down already?

“Everyone else can be involved by sponsoring our volunteers. You will need to ask your parents. Remember what the money is for.”

She closed the register, kept her eyes on me.

“And our volunteers are going to need your support, not just with sponsorship money. You’re all going to have to encourage them to stay quiet.”