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    Lazy Daisy
    Lazy Daisy
    Lazy Daisy
    Ebook98 pages1 hour

    Lazy Daisy

    By Lynne Roberts

    ()

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    About this ebook

    When Poppy's mother disappears one day, Aunt Daisy comes to look after the family. Poppy and her brother Eddie try to find out where their mother has gone. Eddie insists space monsters have taken her while Poppy is sure there must be another explanation. But the truth turns out to be stranger than either of them would have imagined as they travel through time to the future.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLynne Roberts
    Release dateMar 4, 2014
    ISBN9781927241103
    Lazy Daisy
    Author

    Lynne Roberts

    Lynne is a writer, musician, dance teacher and porcelain painter, among other things. She lives on an orchard in the Bay of Plenty, New Zealand where she breeds donkeys and collects grandchildren. Lynne has written copious numbers of educational teaching resources from pre-school through to tertiary level. She writes story books and fantasy fiction for children and poetry for children and adults, always with a strong vein of humour. Lynne also writes musicals for which she composes the original music.

    Read more from Lynne Roberts

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      Book preview

      Lazy Daisy - Lynne Roberts

      Lazy Daisy

      by Lynne Roberts

      Published by Liberty Publications at Smashwords

      Copyright 2014 Lynne Roberts

      ISBN 978-1-927241-10-3

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 1.

      I said afterwards that the very worst part was when Aunt Daisy came to stay. Eddie said that of course it wasn’t. He said that there were much worse bits than Aunt Daisy, and that it was typical of a girl to focus on one thing. I resent that. Not being a girl, of course, but being thought typical. So then Eddie said,

      ‘Why don’t you write it all down, Poppy. Then you’ll see that Aunt Daisy wasn’t the worst part.’

      ‘Why don’t you write it down, if you’re so keen?’

      Eddie didn’t say anything but he gave me that hurt puppy dog look he’s so good at and, naturally, I gave in. So here goes.

      My name is Poppy Amelia Arlington and I am twelve. Eddie is my little brother and he had not long turned nine when the trouble started. Eddie is fairly small and skinny with heaps of freckles and bright red hair. He gets the hair from my grandfather although Pop’s hair was mostly white by the time he died a couple of years ago. I am fortunate enough to take after Mum with unremarkable brown hair. I guess the red hair makes Eddie stand out, which is why the bigger boys tended to pick on him. Most red-haired people are supposed to have really bad tempers to match but Eddie is quite a gentle sort of kid for a boy. He’s crazy about anything to do with cars and he is a whiz at Maths. Dad is a sports fanatic and I think he would have preferred a son who was good at sports. I mean, you can’t run up and down a sideline cheering on someone for calculating sums or working out Maths problems. Dad tries to make Eddie go and play sports and Eddie goes along happily. He’s really not too bad, either. That makes it worse, as when Dad thinks his son is going to be the star of the match, Eddie sees something really interesting like a car driving past on the road. This is inevitably the moment he could have caught the ball or hit the ball and covered himself in glory. Dad gets exasperated and yells at him, but Eddie doesn’t seem to care very much though, and grins back.

      But Eddie had gone all quiet, even for him when the trouble began. He’d been bullied at school in a minor way for ages, mainly because he was so small, and stood out with his red hair. He shrugged it off and whoever was doing the bullying got sick of it and stopped. Then a few weeks ago it was Friday the thirteenth and his bad luck started with a vengeance. A new kid, Tyler, arrived at the school and went into Eddie’s class and things went really bad very quickly. Tyler was big and chunky and not very bright, but he was cunning and always managed to slither away if there was a risk of being caught or punished. So he got in a fair few thumps on Eddie and managed to grab his bag and drop it in puddles on wet days and other stupid mindless things like that. Eddie got quieter and quieter at home and at school. I told him what to do.

      ‘You should hit Tyler as hard as you can then he’ll leave you alone.’

      Eddie looked appalled. ‘That wouldn’t work,’ he muttered. ‘He’d just laugh and hit me harder.’

      I thought about it and had to admit he was probably right. And with Eddie’s luck, he’d be the one spotted fighting by the teachers, and then he’d really be in trouble.

      So Eddie was drooping around being small and miserable and I was storming around being angry on his behalf, which is why neither of us took much notice of Mum. Maybe that’s what caused the trouble. I’ll never know.

      Our parents are fairly normal, at least we think so. Dad works in an office doing something complicated that involves lots of work on a computer and heaps of phone calls to other people in offices all over the world. Mum writes books. Not the reading kind, although you do have to read them. She writes recipe books. Before she married Dad, Mum used to be a cook in a restaurant and she came up with amazing recipes for meals. The restaurant became famous and was not happy when she left and started having children. They wanted her to go back but Mum said she couldn’t face it after all the work looking after us. That makes me cross. I don’t think Eddie and I are much work at all. She made it sound like we were a couple of badly trained chimpanzees.

      But anyway, Mum decided she would work from home instead and write recipe books. First she had to try out all the recipes on us. That could be great, especially if it was a dessert, but it could get tedious as well. There was one chocolate pie thing that she made every day for three weeks, trying to get the ingredients exactly right. Only Eddie lasted the whole time. Dad and I gave up after ten days and ate an apple for dessert instead.

      Some of the spicy casserole things Mum made occasionally were awful, even though Dad usually liked them. We always regarded anything new with great suspicion and Mum encouraged us to comment on whether we liked the food or not.

      ‘It’s really good feedback,’ she’d say. ‘After all, children go to the restaurant as well so I have to know what they will eat.’

      ‘Stick to hamburgers and chips then,’ Dad advised, but Mum looked shocked and started going on about nutrition and balanced meals.

      She served up what looked to be a fairly ordinary stew one night, only it smelled a bit strange.

      ‘What’s that stuff?’ Eddie asked, wrinkling his nose.

      ‘I haven’t actually named it yet. But do try a little bit, children,’ Mum said encouragingly. ‘If you truly don’t like it I will let you have a cheese sandwich instead. I think it could be a little on the hot side.’

      Eddie and I looked at each other dubiously but I thought I’d give it a go. I took the smallest possible spoonful and popped it into my mouth. I immediately wished I hadn’t. ‘Ugh!’ I gagged, and hastily gulped a glass of water, trying to cool the fire in my mouth.

      ‘I’m not even going to try it,’ Eddie said obstinately, as Mum offered him the spoon. ‘Look at what it’s done to Poppy.’

      I sat there red faced and wheezing, gasping for breath, with streaming eyes and a burning mouth. Dad passed me the bread with a sympathetic smile and Mum scribbled a note to herself and muttered something about ‘reducing the cayenne pepper.’

      Like I said, Dad ate most of the stuff that Mum cooked without complaint but we all balked at the salads.

      ‘Do you think I’m a rabbit?’ he demanded one night after Mum dished up the sixth meal of carrot salad in a row.

      ‘It’s very good for you,’ Mum said soothingly. ‘I think

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