Jennifer's Diary & the Worst Child I Ever Had - Anne Fine [1]
“I’ve babysat for some horrible children in my time. I had one who tried to strangle the cat, and one who screamed if you tried to make her put on her welly boots. I’ve had dozens who wouldn’t go to bed at the right time. And I’ve had sneaky ones – children who are perfectly happy sitting in your lap reading books and doing jigsaws, but as soon as they hear their parents coming home, they start to wail and howl and act as if you’d spent the evening beating them.”
“Now that is sneaky,” said Flora, rushing off to fetch Frances.
“Terrible,” agreed Jeff, taking a lump of something nasty off Josh.
Mrs Mackle rocked the pram, and waited for Flora to get back. Then she told them:
“But the worst child I ever had lived in one of those houses over there.”
She pointed over the park.
“See the red house,” she said.
“The one with white windows: 25, Redlands Road. That’s where she lived, the worst child I ever had.”
Overhead, in the tree, a few leaves stirred.
Mrs Mackle sighed.
“This was a long time ago,” she said. “Three whole years. This child was very young then. She would be older now.”
“Tell us about her,” said Flora, running off to fetch Frances.
“Yes, tell us,” said Jeff, flicking a bit of twig out of Jessie’s mouth.
Mrs Mackle rocked the pram till Flora came back again. Then:
“It’s a horrible story,” she said. “It makes me shiver even to think about it. You’re sure you want to hear it?”
‘Definitely,” said Jeff.
‘Oh, please!” said Flora.
“All right, then,” said Mrs Mackle. “I’ll tell you.”
She leaned forward and whispered so softly that only Flora, Jeff and the leafy tree could hear.
“Her name was Susan Solly,” she began.
Up in the tree, young Susan Solly, of 25, Redlands Road, hugged herself happily and smiled.
2. Snail City
“She was a pretty little thing,” said Mrs Mackle. “She was a peaceful baby. She grew into a merry toddler, and then into a cheerful little girl. Everyone
round here loved babysitting for her. She ate all her supper, and cleaned her teeth without making a big fuss, and went to bed when she was told, just like a perfect angel.”
“She sounds wonderful!” said Flora, rushing off to fetch Frances.
“I wouldn’t have minded looking after her,” agreed Jeff, taking Jessie’s spade away because she was bashing Josh too hard.
“Wait till you hear” said Mrs Mackle, darkly.
She rocked the pram till Flora came back again. Then she carried on.
“Susan Solly liked painting, and doing jigsaws, and watching the telly, and cutting up magazines, and sticking pictures with glue. She liked her woodwork set and she liked helping to eook. But most of all she liked playing in the garden.”
Jeff looked over the park towards 25, Redlands Road.
“It’s a good garden,” he said. “Bushes and grass. Is that an apple tree by the fence?”
“Yes,” Mrs Mackle said. “That’s where she liked to play. Under the apple tree there is a wheelbarrow upside down in the long grass, next to the compost heap. The family throw all their tea-leaves and apple cores and carrot peelings and shrivelled-up bits of lettuce on to the compost heap. And once a week Susan’s mother waters it down with the hose, to make it rot faster.”
“Nice place to play!” sniffed Flora.
“Get a bit messy,” agreed Jeff.
“She didn’t play in it,” said Mrs Mackle. “Or on it. She played beside it, in the long grass. She liked it there because there was an old log, and mossy stones, and lots and lots of snails.”
“Snails?”
“Snails?”
“Yes, snails,” said Mrs Mackle. “Dozens and dozens of them. Snails love damp places, you see. And they love bits of old salad. So you ask your average common-or-garden snail his opinion, and he’ll tell you that a mossy stone next to a log beside an upturned wheelbarrow under an apple tree in the long grass close to a compost heap is about the best place in the world to live. Positively palatial!”
“Fancy!” said Flora, rushing off to fetch Frances.
“I didn’t realize,” said Jeff, wiping something rather peculiar and green off Josh’s nose.
“Few people do,” said Mrs Mackle. “I