Jennifer's Diary & the Worst Child I Ever Had - Anne Fine [2]
“Playing with them?” said Flora, who had come back.
“Yes,” Mrs Mackle said. “Playing. She ran snail parties, and snail schools, and snail feasts, and snail races. She made snail patterns (though they got restless and they always moved). And if it was dry enough, Susan brought out her paintbox and painted the snails’ shells the most beautiful colours in her snail beauty shop.”
Mrs Mackle smiled.
“It was a regular snail city, next to that compost heap.”
The other two were astonished.
“Didn’t she hurt them?” asked Flora.
“Never!” said Mrs Mackle firmly. “Not once. She was as gentle as I am with a baby.” To prove it, she gave Mark a little rock in his pram. “She picked them up carefully and put them back after a very short while. She always let them glide off if they seemed bothered. She wouldn’t even run a little zoo in her snail city because she loved them so much she couldn’t bear to think of them trapped in anything. No. Fair’s fair. You have to give young Susan Solly her due. She was a perfect angel with the snails.”
“What was the problem, then?” asked Flora.
“Yes,” Jeff agreed. “How did this perfect angel turn out to be the worst child you ever had?”
“Wait till you hear,” said Mrs Mackle, darkly.
Up in the leafy tree, Susan Solly smiled.
3. Doing What She Was Told
“One day,” said Mrs Mackle, “I went off to babysit for Susan Solly. It started to drizzle as I walked up her garden path, and it kept on all morning.”
“Nice today, though,” said Flora, rushing off to fetch Frances.
“Better than yesterday,” agreed Jeff, waiting for Flora to come back so they could get on with the story. He spent the time shaking some of the sand out of Jessie’s nappy.
Flora rushed back and sat down.
“Go on,” she said to Mrs Mackle.
Mrs Mackle went on.
“Susan, of course, had gone out to play with the snails. I could see her through the window. First she fixed up a snail snack, offering them some juicy fresh titbits she found on the very top of the compost heap. Then she organized a Great Snail Expedition through the wet grass and over the mossy boulders. I think they were supposed to be heading for the rosebush, but a lot of them kept straying.”
“It must have been a very slow expedition,” said Jeff.
“It certainly was. And while it was taking place, the drizzle turned into raindrops, and the raindrops turned into a downpour. Susan was in her raincoat and hat and boots, but by the middle of the morning, she looked soaking wet.”
“I would have called her inside,” said Flora, rushing off to fetch Frances.
“So would I,” agreed Jeff, rescuing a ladybird Josh was trying to pat with his spade.
“I tried,” said Mrs Mackle. “I did try. I opened the window and leaned out.
‘You’d better come in now, Susan,’ I told her.
‘Susan, did you hear me?’ I asked.
‘I don’t want to have to tell you again, dear,’ I said.
‘Come in and we’ll watch cartoons. Snail Show is on telly next and you know it’s your favourite,’ I wheedled.
‘If you don’t come in, I shall have to tell your mother,’ I threatened.
‘Susan! Come in right now!’ I ordered.
‘Susan!’ I yelled.
‘If you don’t come in right this minute, I shall come out there and drag you in,’ I shrieked.
‘SUSAN!!! GET IN THIS HOUSE RIGHT NOW!’ I bellowed. And I slammed the window shut so hard I broke a pane.”
The other two stared. Jeff’s mouth had dropped open. Flora looked aghast.
Jeff said, “What happened?”
Mrs Mackle said, “Would you believe it, after all that time pretending she had cloth ears, that cheeky little madam suddenly gave a secret little smile, whispered something to the snails, then stood up and walked, calm as you please, towards the house.”
“Doing what she was told at last!” said Flora. (She sounded quite relieved.)
“Wait till you hear,” warned Mrs Mackle darkly.
Up in the tree, young Susan Solly gave yet another little secret smile, and hugged herself again.
4. Snail Show
Flora rushed off to fetch Frances. When she came back, she said