Give Me Your Answer, Do, Chapter 2. A Rowansford story

“You are okay with the holiday then?” Chloe was still worried that Poppy might not be enjoying herself. “I’m loving it!” Poppy said, reassuringly. “Well, apart from the lack of sockets in the tent for my hair straighteners…”
That made Chloe laugh, as Poppy had intended.
“This is great. And much better than being stuck in some hotel somewhere, while Mum is at meetings all day. I’d have gone to the grandparents if they hadn’t been away too, but this is much more fun than that.” “Really?”
“Really truly! Stop worrying! Would I lie to you?”
Actually, no, thought Chloe. Easy-going, open, kind – Poppy was a great friend to have. And she was enjoying their annual family camping trip all the more for having her company too. “You are lucky, having Jack. I wish I had a little brother or sister. And you’ll be getting another one in September.”
“I know. And where we’re all going to sleep, I do not know!” Chloe rolled her eyes at the thought of it: their house was small.
“You’ll just have to move,” Poppy said idly – but it wasn’t that simple. “Can I cook again tonight?” Like her mother, Poppy was a very good cook – and she enjoyed it, was loving the challenge of cooking on a campsite, instead of in a fully fitted kitchen.
“I’m sure Mum won’t object,” Chloe said, laughing, as she sat down to talk to her brother.
“I’ll just go shopping first. I want to see what looks nice…” Poppy had that faraway look in her eyes again that meant she was planning something spectacular. “So what are you cooking today? Poppy, this is so kind of you – I feel like we’re taking advantage of you.”
“Elinor, I love doing it! And this is a super holiday. Fish – baked in foil on the embers, with lime and lemongrass, and we’ll eat it with baguettes, and a fruit salad afterwards, with my secret recipe dressing for it…”
“Well, I can’t tell you how grateful I am not having to cook!”
“So go put your feet up! Chloe’s taken Jack to look at the fishes again…” And Poppy gave Elinor one of her warm, wide smiles. “Chloe, you’re amazing! I didn’t know you could do this!”
Poppy had wandered over, with another visitor to the campsite in tow – who looked to be pretty smitten by Poppy!
“She’s got the regional finals coming up soon,” Chloe’s dad said. “Hence the practice, even on holiday. I let her off yesterday and the day before, but we need to get back into routine now.”
Poppy watched, deeply impressed by Chloe’s ability to move and control her body so well. She was even more impressed when she watched Chloe sparring with her father!
“Don’t tell Daisy about this though,” Chloe said afterwards. “She’d just make jokes about it – and I’d hate that. I really enjoy doing this – it’s special to me, and I don’t want Daisy teasing me about it.”
“No, I won’t” Poppy promised. “So is this what you’re doing when you say you’re going out with your family for the day, and can’t get together with us?”
“Usually, yes,” Chloe admitted.
“Could I come sometime? Like to the finals? And cheer for you?” Daisy’s old bedroom was now ready and waiting for the new baby. Lorraine had dug her sewing machine out, and between them she and Jonnie had made curtains, recovered the chair – and David and his father had sloshed paint around enthusiastically.
“You stay away from these paint fumes! It’s bad for the baby,” Jonathan had said, when Jonnie had protested that she could do the painting. “And I’m stuck with this,” Daisy thought. Mum and Dad had sold her unicorn bed, bedside table and rabbit lamp.
“But this dresser is yours,” her mum had said. So it had come down into her room as well – and Charlie had thoughtfully brought all the rubbish down too.
So far, Daisy had made no attempt to clean or tidy the room. Surely if she left it for long enough, someone else would do it for her? For one happy moment, she thought her dream had come true as Grandmère came in with a mop and a bucket full of steaming water.
“Daisy. Enough. You clean and tidy this room. Those disgusting smelly dishes – they go back downstairs, and you wash them clean, please. There is a smell most awful coming from under that bed. If you do not do this, then I permit Charlie to post pictures of your room.”
“You can’t do that!”
“I can, I will. It is time you grew up a little. And also, I will invite your friends round – Chloe and the little Poppy – and show it to them.”
“Do you believe me?” Yes, Daisy did.
“Your mother – she is tired. You should be thinking, how can I help her? Not: how can I make her life worse. You cannot all your life be the baby.” “Grandma H let me be the baby,” thought Daisy, as she somewhat reluctantly went over to begin picking up the rubbish. But her mother had fallen out with Grandma H, and would no longer let Daisy see her – and her father had never really liked his mother-in-law anyway. It didn’t cross Daisy’s mind that her grandmother must have done something pretty bad to make someone as even-tempered as Jonquil refuse to speak to her. Eventually, she’d finished. She knew Lorraine too well: her grandmère would undoubtedly do exactly as she’d said. Lorraine never lied, and always kept her word. She’d had to ask her father and grandfather for help in moving all the furniture out of the room – and now, she supposed, it all had to come back in again. And there was no way she was going to be able to improve this room unless she got a job. Her clothes would probably never be the same again. She hated this room! She almost (but not quite) wished she’d never made such a fuss. And what would Poppy and Chloe say if they saw it like this? She’d boasted to them so much (and especially Chloe) about her big new bedroom. They were both away for these first two weeks of the holiday – but when they came back, they’d be bound to want to see it. How was she going to get round this? Reluctantly, Daisy found the newspaper, brought her chair back into her bedroom, and began to look for a part-time job. “Wow. I like that.”
“Thanks. I’m almost done, I think…” Matthew had called on Charlie, as they’d planned. “There. Done.”
“So – tell me about it.”
“I was trying to paint what it feels like to ride. Not what it looks like, but the sensations.”
“I’m impressed. Have you ever thought of painting horses though?”
“Why?” Charlie knew Matthew well by now, and could read the tones of his voice.
“Well – I’d really like to give Bryony something special after the baby’s born…What would you charge?”
“Hmm. Let me think about that. Want a drink while we wait for Hanako?” “Hey, I like your new upstairs kitchen! Very smart.”
“Yes – Grandmère and Mum both agreed that they needed a kitchen each, so we use this one for breakfast, cups of coffee, lunches – but normally we eat together downstairs in the evening. Unless Grandmère and Granpère have got guests. They’ve had Poppy’s grandparents round quite a bit recently – Flora and Archibald Pettistree: have you met them?”
“She wears really bright clothes? Yes, I met them a couple of weeks back, when I was out with Bryony, lugging shopping to the car for her. I can see where Poppy’s friendliness comes from.”
“I don’t know why she puts up with Daisy’s moods! She’s way nicer than Daisy.” “By the way,” Matthew said casually – too casually! – a few moments later. “You’re going to be on your own in the stables this afternoon.”
“Charlie nearly choked on her hot chocolate. “What?!”
“Mum asked me to go over to see the Bardons this afternoon – to take some flowers to Alice. It’s the anniversary of Sarah’s death.”
That quietened Charlie down. She knew Alice and Jacob’s daughter had been Bryony’s best friend.
“Is Bryony okay?”
“Yes, but the car’s at the garage, she’s finding even the little horse box too heavy to handle now, so I said I’d go. You’ll be fine – you know how to saddle up, get the ponies ready, supervise them mounting, lead them to the field…it’s a nice well-behaved class. And it’s not like you’re teaching or anything. You know what you’re doing.”
“If you say so…Doorbell! That’ll be Hanako, fresh from her vile din lesson.” Her parents had been adamant that if her school work suffered, Daisy would have to give up her part time job. And then she could say goodbye to ever getting anything done to this room! But it was the summer holidays – she wouldn’t have any homework! Until her maths teacher called David and Jonquil in, talked to them about his concerns, asked them if they could help – and now she had a whole-summer remedial maths programme mapped out for her. Two hours a day, partly working through stuff, partly going through it with her father - no chance of not doing it.
She’d tried everything to get a different room – whining, pleading, cajoling, but nothing had worked.
“But the bars over the window – it’s like being in prison.”
“Hardly,” Lorraine remarked dryly. “If you want to know what prison is like, I could tell you tales from my mother…”
That had shut Daisy up pretty sharpish.
“It was a nursery bedroom once,” her father said. “When we get the outside painted, the bars are coming off.” And no-one would sympathise with her! She couldn’t talk to Poppy and Chloe – for one thing, there was no mobile reception at their dreggy campsite, and for another – what if they laughed at her? She couldn’t bear not being the best of the three of them – the prettiest, the slimmest, the one with the best clothes. Chloe didn’t have the money to compete, and Poppy was too fat to ever look good. But now that Grandma H wasn’t allowed to give Daisy the massive handouts she had been giving her, how was she going to keep up her position? And this bedroom was so not going to help. Secretly, Daisy thought that Charlie looked quite impressive in her riding gear – but she’d never admit it in a million years.
“Dad,” Charlie asked. “Is it okay with you if I go and stay at Matthew’s for the next couple of weeks? Their stable lad’s away – and Bryony can’t cover for him at the moment, obviously. Then I can help with the morning stuff too.”
“I don’t see why not,” David said after a little thought. “Mum’s got Daisy to help here. Which reminds me Daisy, I asked you to go upstairs and get that book for Mum. So why did I find Jonnie getting it for herself?”
“I did go! I couldn’t find it!”
“It was on the chest of drawers where I told you it would be.”
“I didn’t see it!”
“Better get your eyes tested then,” Charlie said smartly – and then escaped before Daisy could think of something to say in return. “That looks nice on you. I haven’t seen you wear it for a while.” David was determined to be pleasant to Daisy as often as he could –he knew moving had been unsettling for her, and her “bezzies” were still on holiday. Unfortunately, Daisy wasn’t in to being pleasant back.
“Oh yeah. Rub it in, why don’t you? Like anyone can look good in last year’s clothes. That’s just too frumpsville for words.”
David, thinking about how seldom Jonnie had new clothes, was less than amused. “Thank you for your important fashion insights. We’ll all bear them in mind – nice to know what you think of everyone else. And talking of clothes, why didn’t you put away all the ones Jonnie asked you?”
“I didn’t see the other pile!”
“Maybe Charlie’s right, and you do need your eyes testing. I’ll make an appointment for you.”
“Oh Dad, don’t be so silly. And glasses are like geeksville anyway.” That was not the right thing to say to someone who wore them… Daisy flounced off in a huff up to her room. Honestly, Dad just didn’t get it! Okay, she’d liked this dress last summer – but to be wearing it the summer after! It was, like, only fuddy-duddies who did that. Or old people like her mother. Well, at least she got a pay packet soon, and then she could pay someone to decorate this room for her, since her parents were too mean to do that. Oh well - she supposed she’d better make a start on her maths for the day, or Mr Grumpy would be at her again. And that was another depressing thing about living here, Daisy thought, as she found the books she needed. Grandmère and Grandpère always talked about schoolwork and learning new things as if it was interesting. Grandma H, on the other hand, always said school was boring really. And it couldn’t be because Grandma H wasn’t clever – she’d gone to the grammar school like Grandpère, so she’d have had to pass the entrance exam to get in. She must be just as clever as Grandpère. “This is probably the worst day of my life,” Daisy thought, as she looked at herself in the mirror on the landing before she went off to work. David had been as good as his word and booked her an appointment with the optician – and it turned out that she did need glasses. Work uniform on, hair off her face (she’d been warned about that twice – once more, and she’d lose her job, and she couldn’t risk that), and now those terrible glasses.
“Life just can’t get any worse,” Daisy thought.

Chapter 1 is here: http://samelasstories.blogspot.co.uk/2015/03/give-me-your-answer-do-chapter-1.html
If you want to read the earlier story about Daisy and Charlie, it's here:
Prologue: http://samelasstories.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/its-not-fair-prologue.html
Chapter 1: http://samelasstories.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/its-not-fair-chapter-1.html
Chapter 2: http://samelasstories.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/chapter-2.html
Chapter 3: http://samelasstories.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/its-not-fair-chapter-3.html
Chapter 4: http://samelasstories.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/its-not-fair-chapter-4.html
Chapter 5: http://samelasstories.blogspot.co.uk/2014/10/its-not-fair-chapter-5.html
Chapter 6: http://samelasstories.blogspot.co.uk/2014/10/its-not-fair-final-chapter.html
The mop and bucket came from CycloneSue at TSR, and the eggs and book in the kitchen from Sandy at ATS3

Give Me Your Answer, Do, Chapter 1. A Rowansford story

As far as Daisy was concerned, it was so not fair! They’d moved house to live with her grandparents, and she’d ended up with this dump of a room! And she was still stuck with that stupid unicorn bed she’d wanted so much when she was six. Now it was just an embarrassment. And with Mum giving up her job – because she was pregnant, of all the so-not-okay things! – there wasn’t going to be the spare money to make over her room. And for goodness’ sake! What teenager had a bathroom that looked like this? So last Tuesday? This was, like, so last century! Meanwhile, her darling sister, Charlie, had a bathroom that was fresh, mostly modern, and new-looking. And as for Charlie’s bedroom! Daisy was seriously envious of that too. It was just so unfair! And the whole family had just ganged up on her, just because of one tiny joke she’d played on her sister. Somewhat reluctantly, Daisy went into the (hopelessly old-fashioned) sitting room and sat down at the desk to do her homework. Her parents had been remarkably unanimous: her schoolwork had to improve.
“Just ‘cos Charlie’s clever,” Daisy thought resentfully, “I have to do well too. It is so not fair!” Charlie sat down at her desk and picked up her homework: she wanted to fit in some painting time as well. She still got so much pleasure out of her lovely bedroom: it was a far cry from the tiny room she’d had at their previous house. And she loved living with her grandparents too. The house was huge – there was more than enough space for them all. Space to get away from Daisy too… Charlie still hadn’t forgiven her sister for the mean trick she’d played on her. Daisy had swapped the – very good – paintings Charlie had entered in a competition for two terrible ones that Charlie had painted when she’d been very young. And Charlie had come last, the results published for everyone to see. It wasn’t just the humiliation she was angry with Daisy about – it was the fact that she’d had a good chance of winning, and Daisy had taken that away from her as well. Their father had come home from the exhibition to find Charlie doing her level best to pound Daisy into a pulp. And when he’d heard what Daisy had done, he’d totally taken Charlie’s side. With the house move as well, everything had changed for Daisy – and she didn’t like it one little bit. “Daisy, your room’s a mess. You need to tidy it up. Jonnie’s far too tired to come up here and take your dirty dishes down for you. Do it now.”
“This room’s never going to look good. What difference does it make if I tidy it? Why can’t I have a new bed…?”
“We’ve been over this. The profit from selling our other house is going on re-roofing this one – and painting the outside as well. That’s not cheap. We need to put a kitchen in for ourselves, do up a room for the baby...”
“But Charlie has a lovely big room, with a spare bed so that she can have friends for sleepovers, and I’m just stuck with this stupidsville bed…” “You’re never satisfied are you?” David remarked mildly. Too mildly – Daisy should have recognised the warning signs, but she just carried on.
“Honestly, this house is like, huge. I could at least have had a bigger bedroom. And if I have to look at that stupid unicorn for one more night, I’ll – I’ll paint the whole bed black!”
“So. You want a different bedroom, a new bed – no, two new beds – and a new bedside table and light as well, no doubt?”
“Yes!” Finally, her dad was getting the message. “And a proper wardrobe of my own, and I want a desk. Charlie has one…” “You know we didn’t know where to put the baby once it moves out of our room?”
“It has to be born first, remember,” Jonnie said, laughing at her husband. “But yes, I do remember.”
“Well, I think I might have solved the problem.” The two of them were sitting in Lorraine’s kitchen before going to bed, seizing a few minutes away from their daughters’ flapping ears.
“How on earth have you solved that? I know you’re clever, darling, but…” David told her about his conversation with Daisy, about her demands – and then about his plan.
“Do you know,” Jonquil said slowly, once she’d got her head round the idea, “this might be the making of Daisy. I’ll back you up. And I think I know where I can sell that unicorn bed. Daisy’s going to Poppy’s the weekend after next for a sleepover – it’s Poppy’s birthday – we could do the change-over then. Daisy can come back to her new room. Are you parents okay with this, though?”
“Don’t worry – they’re all for it too. They’ll back us up as well. And we can rely on Charlie not to be a problem.”
“Hmmm. We do rely on Charlie to be reasonable, don’t we?” “I do believe you’re making progress with that car!” Charlie’s friend Matthew had come round and was gently teasing Charlie’s grandfather.
“Cheeky young monkey,” Jonathan said mildly. “I don’t know, young people today, no respect for their elders and betters…Just for that, you can listen to one of my jokes. What do Italians eat for breakfast?”
“I don’t know,” Matthew said, laughing. Jonathan’s jokes were famously bad.
“Eggs Florentine! So why are you here today? Not that we’re not pleased to see you, of course…” Charlie came in before Matthew had a chance to answer.
“I thought I might find you here. Impressed by the progress? Now Dad’s living here, Grandpère’s got a spare pair of hands at the weekend. Shall we tackle that French homework first? Hanako’s free later on. We could all meet up at the park: there’s a band playing there tonight.”
Jonathan smiled to himself at his grand-daughter’s happy enthusiasm for life. He liked it a lot better that Daisy’s spoilt brat attitude. To be fair on her parents, most of Daisy’s spoilt brat attitude had been fed into her by her other grandmother. Since Daisy had been very small, Cynthia had favoured Daisy over Charlie, given her more than she’d given Charlie, encouraged Daisy to think that she was better than Charlie…the party dresses she’d made for them each year had been a nice example of that. Daisy’s dress had always looked lovely on her. And Charlie’s dress had always been a total nightmare! Because Charlie wasn’t girlie enough to suit Cynthia’s tastes, her grandmother had always made her extremely frilly and ruffled dresses, in an attempt to make her “more feminine, my dear.” This had gone on right up until the Christmas just gone. Daisy’s dress had,as usual, looked really good on her. And Charlie’s had been the usual nightmare. But instead of being willing to wear it, to keep her grandmother happy, Charlie had refused point-blank. And her father had backed her up. That hadn’t exactly suited her grandmother – who wasn't prepared to admit how awful Charlie looked in the dress.
Daisy could see it though – and didn’t mind one bit. She was quite happy to be her grandmother’s favourite – and to watch Charlie suffer! French homework night, Matthew went to Charlie’s house. Her half-French grandmother was an enormous asset. And with her help, he was making up for being a year behind – his previous school had done German first, and then started on French. For Charlie, the subject was a breeze!
“But you are much improved, Matthew. One can see with clearness that you are working very hard. Do not despair so!” Lorraine was looking at Matthew’s gloomy frown.
“Soon it will be the summer holidays. Each day, Charlie or I will help you – you do not have a holiday away, no?” “No.” His stepmother – like Charlie’s mother, and quite a few other women in Rowansford! – was pregnant.
“The stables are always busy over the summer, and with my little brother or sister on the way, Bryony can’t do anywhere near as much. I’m going to be working all summer!”
“But you get paid, no?”
“I get paid, yes. And so does Charlie – she’s got a job there too if she wants it.” “You asked her! Thanks, Matthew, that’s great!”
“So what will you do with your earnings, ma petite?”
“Buy painting stuff,” Charlie replied promptly. “And clothes.”
Thanks to Matthew, and her best friend Hanako, Charlie was discovering that clothes didn’t have to be things that made you feel ugly and humiliated.
“You’ll come with me and Hanako to help choose them, won’t you Matthew?” They both laughed at the look of total resignation that crossed his face. “This is Poppy’s birthday,” thought Chloe. “And yet here we are, listening to Daisy talking about herself.” The spell Daisy had once cast over her was beginning to fade. Poppy, however, obviously thought that listening to Daisy complain was a lovely way to spend her birthday evening. “And they sold the old house for thousands, but would Dad spend on my bedroom at the beginning? No…”
“Daisy, they might have sold it for thousands, but they’d have had to pay off the mortgage, you know,” Chloe pointed out. Money was tight in her family, and with another child on the way, likely to be tighter still. But Poppy’s dark eyes were full of nothing but sympathy.
“Daisy, how dreadful for you. Is there nothing you can do to make him see how much you need a new bedroom?” “Well, I’m doing my best. And I think he might have got the message when I said that there was, like, no point in tidying my room because it was so awfulsville anyway…” Chloe just tuned out, and wished she wasn’t so far away from the chocolates. “How come Daisy got the spare bed again?” Chloe thought, as they all settled down for the night. “It was my turn this time. And the time before, now that I think about it…” As Daisy came up the stairs, home from Poppy’s, she heard her sister arguing with their father.
“Are you just going to give Daisy what she wants? Again? I’m fed up with this!”
Good, thought Daisy, pleased on both fronts. She was going to get what she wanted! And, with a bit of luck, Charlie would be in trouble as well.
“I asked for painting stuff, and you said we couldn’t afford it, I’d have to wait until my birthday. Or get a part-time job. This is so not fair!” “Daisy.” David had spotted her. “Just let me check this over with you. You’d like a bigger bedroom – with two beds, a desk, a wardrobe, more space, a new bedside table and a new lamp?”
“Yes,” Daisy said trying not to sound too smug. That would show Charlie that she wasn’t the only one to get a new bedroom! Charlie glared at her. “You really are sure about this. Because you’ll have to come down and sleep on this floor, instead of being on the top floor with the rest of us.”
Great. She’d get away from the baby when it came as well! It was bound to cry.
“Yes, I’m sure. That’s fine.”
“And I agree with Charlie – if you want anything else for your room, you’re going to have to get a part-time job and save up for it yourself. The new mattresses weren’t cheap.”
“I could do that. I will do that, if I want to.”
“And if you go for this, there’s no changing your mind and saying can I have my old room back. From the moment you say yes, that’s it. No repeat of your eighth birthday party.” Daisy had the grace to blush at that memory.
“I’m totally sure. I won’t ask to change my mind.”
“Really sure? Because you won’t be allowed to change your mind.”
“If I’m going to get all that – two beds, a wardrobe, a desk, more space so I can have sleepovers…?”
“All of that.”
“Then I agree.”
“Here’s the key. It’s that door over there.” Nose in the air, a gloating smile on her lips, Daisy pushed past her sister, unlocked the door and swept triumphantly into her new bedroom. And stopped short in disbelief as she saw what was behind the door.
“Like I said, the mattresses are new,” her father’s voice said behind her. “And your mother and Lorraine washed all the bedding for you – don’t forget to thank them. I didn’t think it was fair to ask them to clean the room though – you can do that for yourself. After all, you’re neither pregnant nor old.” But worst of all was the sound of Charlie splitting her sides with laughter.
“Well, Dad, you did give her what she asked for. I’m sorry I was so rude to you. I have so got to go and phone Matthew and Hanako!”

The previous Rowansford story about Daisy and Charlie is here: Prologue: http://samelasstories.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/its-not-fair-prologue.html Chapter 1: http://samelasstories.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/its-not-fair-chapter-1.html Chapter 2: http://samelasstories.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/chapter-2.html Chapter 3: http://samelasstories.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/its-not-fair-chapter-3.html Chapter 4: http://samelasstories.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/its-not-fair-chapter-4.html Chapter 5: http://samelasstories.blogspot.co.uk/2014/10/its-not-fair-chapter-5.html Chapter 6: http://samelasstories.blogspot.co.uk/2014/10/its-not-fair-final-chapter.html