The Magical Bookshop by Katja Frixe

Author:Katja Frixe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Oneworld Publications

6

SAVING PODGE

Without the afternoon cheer-up sessions with Mrs Owl, Gustaf and Mr King, I’m not sure how I would have survived the first week back at school. And I certainly wouldn’t have managed without my Lottie and Clara friendship book, my phone and Finn’s computer (which he sometimes graciously let me use).

Lottie told me on the phone about her new school and the stupid girl she had to sit next to, and I told her about our old school and about the not-so-stupid boy I had to sit next to. By now I’d realised that Leo was actually pretty cool, but of course no matter how nice he was, he wasn’t Lottie.

So the first week of school was over and finally it was the weekend. On the one hand, I was relieved, because I could have a break from Vivi and Sarah’s idiotic chatter, and I could hang out at the bookshop all day on Saturday. On the other hand, I always spent most of the weekends with Lottie – we would make waffles, get dressed up or set up a jumble sale on the street. One of our favourite ways to spend the weekend was taking Podge out for a walk. But it was never just going for a walk. We would always imagine we were somewhere else, like in Paris or in an underground city or in some kind of lush tropical paradise. We would really get into character and put on the appropriate silly accents, so on our walk through Paris, Lottie would say, “Ah, mon dieu, isn’t it beautiful how the Eiffel Tower glints in the sun?” And I would say, “Oui, it’s magnifique! Shall we get a baguette for le dîner on the way home?”

Perhaps I could spend the weekend with Lottie, in my thoughts at least, if I took Podge out for a walk and daydreamed about being somewhere else.

So, early that Saturday morning, I called out, “I’ll go and get some bread rolls!” That was a tradition for our family breakfast together.

I had no idea if anyone had heard me – Dad had already barricaded himself in his darkroom, Mum was blow-drying her hair in the bathroom and I hadn’t seen the others yet.

“Come on, Podge,” I called.

The chubby black mongrel with floppy ears slowly emerged from his little basket under the coat rack. He waddled over to me so slowly, he looked like he might fall back asleep at any moment. I waved his leash at him in the hope he would be excited by the prospect of some exercise, but I knew he probably would have preferred a nice liverwurst sandwich. So I clipped on his leash against his will and dragged him out of the front door.

This time I imagined I had landed in an eerie vampire city. It was dark, and I pictured Lottie and me holding hands as we gingerly tiptoed down a deserted lane dimly lit by old-fashioned street lamps.

The street lamps were a key theme of

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