old-fashioned pram
‘But what about the meeting?’ I said. (It was Wednesday.)
‘Let’s postpone,’ said Bee. ‘Too much to do before Saturday.’
‘Let’s have a meeting after the summer fair instead,’ said Jonno.
‘Good idea, in the Tribehouse with cakes,’ I said, remembering the fantastic marshmallow cupcakes Bee made to bribe the Alley Cat girls, ages ago when Tribe was new.
‘Same,’ said Fifty.
‘There’s no time to make any,’ said Bee. Shame!
‘I’ll get Mum to buy some,’ said Fifty.
Water bombs waiting in the art room, ready to burst, a pile of treasures in Bee’s garage, ready to swap, and a tray of cakes waiting in the Tribehouse, ready to eat. It was all going too well . . .
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