Boy Underwater by Adam Baron

Author:Adam Baron [Adam Baron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2018-05-30T16:00:00+00:00

And every single one was of Mr Fluffy.

We lost him once. On Juni’s seventh birthday (I was six). Juni had always wanted to go on an open-top bus round London. Clay was there and Auntie Mill and Uncle Chris (Clay and Juni’s dad) and I was and Mum, and Uncle Brian came too. We climbed the stairs up to the top deck and sat next to these American people, who had coats on even though it was summer, and more teeth than English people. I sat next to Juni and she told me all about London as we drove around. For instance, when we got to the Tower of London, she said it wasn’t really called that. The Tower of London was actually the name of the bell inside it, and its real name was St Stephen’s Tower. She knows so much stuff, Juni, which probably comes from going to her different school.

We saw the London Eye, which I thought only looked worth going on if it went faster. At Buckingham Palace the Queen was out because there was no flag, and this was disappointing for some reason, even though we wouldn’t have been able to see her anyway. Auntie Mill said they should have a flag at their house for when Uncle Chris was home, though they’d hardly ever have to put it up, would they? Uncle Chris laughed at that, sort of, and came to sit with me and Juni. At the Houses of Parliament he tried to point out the Burghers of Calais in a little park but I couldn’t see any burgers (though we did pass a few McDonald’s). The Americans all got off but we stayed on until Trafalgar Square, where Juni wanted to climb on the lions. We all got off and did that, and I looked up at Nelson, all lonely on his column. I wanted to bring his statue down to the ground so he could be surrounded by all the people he’d saved. Uncle Chris said that Nelson had captured the lions from Napoleon and I said that was great but why did he make them so slippery?

We looked at a very still person pretending to be Yoda and a very still person pretending to be Darth Vader and a very still person pretending to be Gandalf and they were good, but not as good as the very still person pretending to be a soldier near Buckingham Palace. He’d looked more real because he had his own hut and his face wasn’t covered in paint.

Back on the bus Mum said, ‘Photo time!’

We squashed in together but her eyes went wide. ‘Where’s Mr Fluffy?’ she said.

I felt suddenly empty as I scrabbled behind me on the seat and on the floor. We all ran down the stairs, and Mum begged the driver to let us off before the next stop. We ran back into the square, looking near the lions and the still people and by the fountain and everywhere.

I was desperate, but I wasn’t as bad as Mum, and she was the one who spotted him.

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