“Who’re these funny-looking people?” said Granny.
“What am I doing here?” said Dad. “I was supposed to be a princess!”
“Who’d make you a princess?” I said.
It’s afternoon now and I’m still writing. I bet I could write a book. Easy. I was going to do some more after Felix went, but Maureen from Mum’s church came round, so I had to be visited. She only left when Mum went to fetch Ella from school. I was thinking up “Questions Nobody Answers” at the dining table when they came back. Ella ran straight over to me.
“What are you doing?”
“School stuff,” I said. I curled my arm around the page. Ella came right up behind me and peered over my shoulder.
“Ella. I’m busy,” I said. It was the wrong thing to say. She tugged on my arm.
“Let me see!”
“Mum!” I wailed. “Ella won’t let me work!”
“Sam won’t let me see!”
Mum was on the phone. She came through with it pressed against her chest.
“Kids! Behave! Ella, leave your brother alone.”
I pulled a face at Ella. She flung herself on to the sofa.
“It’s not fair! You always let him win!”
Ella and Mum always fight. And Ella always says it’s not fair. I bet that’s the only reason I win, because I don’t throw baby tantrums like she does.
Mum put down the phone and went over to Ella. Ella shouted, “Go away!” and ran upstairs. Mum gave this big sigh. She came over to me. I closed my pad so she wouldn’t see the writing.
“Secret, is it?” she said.
“It’s for school.” I held my pen over the closed pad. Mum sighed. She kissed the top of my head and went upstairs after Ella.
I waited until I was quite sure she was gone, then I picked up my pen and started writing again.
First published in the UK in 2012 by Marion Lloyd Books
This electronic edition published in 2012 by Marion Lloyd Books
An imprint of Scholastic Children’s Books
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Copyright © Sally Nicholls, 2012
The right of Sally Nicholls to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her.
eISBN 978 1407 13277 8
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Sally Nicholls, All Fall Down
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