The A-Z of Everything by Debbie Johnson

Author:Debbie Johnson [Johnson, Debbie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollinsPublishers
Published: 2017-02-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 34

Rose

I honestly don’t think I’ve laughed so hard in my entire life. Apart from maybe that time in the tent at Glastonbury, when I was a Stoned Rose and every word out of Poppy’s mouth was absolutely hilarious.

This time, I’m not stoned – just a bit hungover. And this time, Poppy isn’t my best friend – she’s the person I’ve been holding responsible for ruining my life for all these years, even if part of me knows that’s not entirely fair.

And this time, we’re not joking about our mum sneaking into a festival as a blue-boobied yoga freak – we’re on some crazy beyond-the-grave odyssey that she’s sent us on; an insane journey of reconciliation.

None of this is funny at all – but God, it felt good to laugh again. And it felt good to see Poppy relaxed again, even if it was for just a few moments; the way her face lit up at the thought of being Dumbledore’s long-lost daughter was absolutely priceless. Well, she has been reading Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban this morning.

That look – that genuine glee – meant that for a little while there, she lost control. She stopped being the perfectly poised Poppy she is these days, and instead became the imaginative, excitable little girl she always used to be. The way I remember her, before everything turned to shit.

I suppose, no matter what comes next, no matter what the ultimate outcome of Mum’s bonkers spirit quest, we both needed that. We both needed to laugh, to let go, to relax.

Now, egged on by Mum’s insistence that E is just a bit of fun, I decide we should press ahead.

‘Okay,’ I say, pointing at the boxes on the living-room floor, ‘while I’m still half dead with this hangover, shall we see what E is? She said it was funny, but I’m not sure I trust her. This spirit quest business is a bit unpredictable.’

‘Spirit quest?’ Poppy echoes, unfolding the now slightly tattered printout of the A–Z index. I hope she has a copy, or we’ll be screwed.

‘You know. Like in films. This reminds me of one – like at some point, we’ll be asked to sit in a teepee and smoke a peyote bong?’

‘Like we’re Kevin Costner in Dances with Wolves,’ she replies, obviously getting it. Of course. She looks up, frowning at me quizzically, still looking much younger and much more innocent.

‘What would your spirit animal be?’ Poppy asks, kneeling down and rummaging in the rose-painted box.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I reply, giving the issue some serious thought. This is, after all, a perfect hangover conversation, right up there with, ‘What’s your favourite superpower?’ and ‘If you were a colour, what would you be?’

‘Maybe,’ I say, after a few moments, ‘I’d be a Labrador. They’re big and cuddly and like to eat and sleep. I don’t think I’d mind being a Labrador.’

‘Well, I can see what you mean,’ Poppy says, producing a slim A4 envelope from the box and waving it triumphantly.

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