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“There!” she said.
Inside the suitcase was a bear. Iggy lifted him out. He was brown with a white patch on his eye and a shiny black nose.
“This,” Iggy said while the other kids and their mums and dads hurried and chattered around us, “is Barnaby.”
“Hello Barnaby,” I said, and I pretended to shake his hand. “How do you do?”
Iggy was very pleased with me. She hid behind him and she said, “I’m fine thank you,” in a gruff little bear’s voice.
Barnaby was wearing trousers and a tiny school jumper, just like the ones we were wearing. There were other clothes in the suitcase too, all folded neatly, and a real camera, the kind you have to throw away when you are finished with it.
“Look at his holiday clothes,” Iggy said, and she fished out a little flowery shirt to show me, and a baseball cap, and she giggled. I picked up the camera.
“Don’t drop it,” Iggy said. “Be careful.”
“What’s it for?” I said.
“It’s Barnaby’s camera,” Iggy said. “I mustn’t lose it.”
Just then, Mum came to find us in the playground. She carried our folders and I carried the little suitcase and Iggy carried Barnaby. She put him on her shoulders like Dad carries us sometimes. She held onto his hands just like Dad does.
“Can he see?” she said.
“Yes,” I said, and Mum said, “Who is that?”
“It’s Barnaby,” Iggy said.
“Who’s Barnaby?” Mum said.
“He is Iggy’s very important summer job,” I told her.
“I have to look after him,” Iggy said.
“You’ll be good at that,” said Mum.
“I know. I’ve got to take him everywhere, and take his picture. And I’ve got to show all the pictures to the whole class when I get back to school.”
Mum laughed. “How lovely,” she said.
Iggy said, “So every day he has to do something new and exciting for me to take a picture of.”
“OK,” said Mum.
“So it’s good news,” Iggy said.
“What is?” I said.
“About the seaside,” Iggy said.
“What seaside?” asked Mum.
Iggy said, “Flo said we could all go to the seaside and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to come. I was worried that my job would be too busy.”
“I see,” said Mum.
“Show Mum your picture, Flo,” Iggy said.
I took my folder from Mum and pulled out the picture of us at the seaside.
“There we are,” Iggy said. “And now Barnaby can come too.”
“I’ll draw a Barnaby and stick him on when I get home,” I said.
Iggy and Mum smiled at me at exactly the same time.
“Good idea,” they both said.
“So you don’t mind about the last day of school anymore?” I said to Iggy.
“No,” she said. “Not now I’ve got a job. Not now I’ve got Barnaby.”
“And you don’t mind about the long holiday?” I said to Mum.
“No,” Mum said and she winked at me. “Not now we’re going to the seaside.”
Packing (#ulink_4ec52bf3-dfbb-51a6-9578-66ca9d0e22d0)
The whole house was turned upside down because we were packing for our holiday at the seaside. All of our rooms were a bit of a mess. Mum was making sandwiches for the journey. Dad couldn’t find anything.
“Where are my trunks?” he said.
Iggy giggled. “Trunks,” she said. “They belong to elephants.”
“Well,” Dad said. “The particular elephant they belong to is me,” and he swung his arm in front of his face like a real trunk and chased Iggy across the landing. Iggy squealed and snorted and jumped.
Mum shouted from downstairs, “What’s that stomping noise?”
“Elephants!” said Dad and Iggy, together.
“Elephants?” Mum said. “Are they coming on holiday with us?”
I said, “Only if they can find their swimming trunks.”
“Oh,” said Mum, “I see,” and she winked at me from the bottom of the stairs.
“Left hand drawer,” she called to Dad. “I thought elephants never forget.”
“Oh,” said Dad. “Thanks. This elephant did.”
We had a rucksack each to put our things in. Iggy’s was red with white squiggles on it, and mine was blue. Barnaby the bear had his own little brown suitcase with his clothes and his camera in. Iggy had to look after him for the whole summer and take his picture wherever we were. It was the very important holiday job her teacher Rwaida had given her.
I learned all about packing at school. We had a picture of an empty suitcase and we had to draw what we would pack if we had to leave home one day in a hurry. Our teacher said we had to think really hard about what we didn’t want to leave behind. She said games and toys and colouring pens were not as important as passports and underwear and important family treasures.
I put all my things on my bed in little piles, like Mum does. We were going to the seaside for six days. I thought very hard about it. I had six pants, six pairs of socks, six T-shirts, two pairs of shorts, one dress, one pair of jeans and two jumpers. I had my swimsuit and my goggles and my dress that’s really a towel. I had my book and my pencil case and my toothbrush and a pack of cards and some yellow sunglasses and a hat with spots on. I did have colouring pens because you never know when you might need to draw a picture. I didn’t have my passport because Dad keeps it safe and I didn’t have any important family treasures either, but I was all ready to pack.
Iggy came into my room.
“What are you doing?” she said.
She was twiddling her hair. Twiddling hair is Iggy language for I’m-stuck-and-I-need-help. Iggy has lots of ways of telling you what she is thinking.
She rubs her eyes with her fists when she is tired. Her eyebrows turn bright pink when she is going to cry.
She points when she is cross.
Her mouth goes thin and white when she is angry.
She stretches her arms and points her toes when she is starting to get bored.
And when she is excited about something that’s going to happen she does a little dance with just her hands.
“What are you doing?” she said again, hair-twiddling.
“I’m packing my bag,” I said.
“What are you putting in your packing?” she said.
I showed her all the piles of things on my bed.
“That’s a lot of stuff,” she said, and she stretched her arms over her head and pointed her toes.
“Do you want help with yours?” I said.
Iggy shook her head. “I’ve done my packing,” she said. “And Barnaby’s done his.”
“What did you pack?” I said.
Iggy counted on her fingers. “Gloria and Mumble and Polly and Ranger,” she said.
Gloria and Mumble and Polly and Ranger are four of Iggy’s best and biggest teddies. They would fill her whole rucksack in a flash.
“What else?” I said.
Iggy shrugged. “Nothing,” she said. “No room.”
I said, “What about pants and socks and T-shirts and shorts and your swimsuit?”
“I’m wearing them,” Iggy said.
I looked at Iggy more carefully. She was looking a bit lumpy.
“All of them?” I said.
“Don’t be silly,” Iggy said. “I can’t wear all of them.”
“OK.”
“I can only fit four,” Iggy said.
She was wearing four pants and two pairs of shorts. She was wearing four T-shirts and a vest and two pairs of socks. She had her swimsuit on all the way underneath.
“What happens if you need a wee?” I said.
“Why?”
“You’ll have to take all of it off.”
“Why?”
“Because your swimsuit is in the way.”
Iggy thought for a minute. “I don’t need a wee,” she said.
“You will,” I said.
“Ssssh,” Iggy said. “I don’t need one.”
“Have you got your toothbrush?” I said.
Iggy nodded. “In my pocket.”
“Have you got your sunhat?”
She smiled and showed me. “Other pocket.”
Iggy had nearly thought of everything.
“Have you got a book and some pens and a game and a pair of sunglasses?”
“No,” Iggy said. “I can’t fit them anywhere. Can I share yours?”
Just then, Mum came into the room.
“Are you all packed?” she said, and I said, “Nearly,” and Iggy said, “Yes.”
Mum looked at Iggy. She looked at her once and then she looked again.
“Why do you look lumpy?” Mum said.
