“I’m not really having a holiday,” she said in a whisper, like when she tells a secret.
“Why not?”
“Rwaida says she has an important job for me to do.”
“What sort of job?”
“I told you,” she said. “An important one.”
“I know, but what kind?”
She shrugged. “Rwaida says it is for the whole summer.”
“Oh.”
Iggy was still looking at my picture. She said, “I think I’m going to be a bit busy for the seaside.”
I thought about what Iggy’s job could be.
“Is it the Guinea pigs?” I said.
Iggy shook her head. “Josh Green’s having those.”
“Is it the hamster?”
“Nope,” Iggy said. “It’s not Gruffles.”
“Who else?” I said.
“It’s not the fish,’ she said, “because they get to stay at school and the cleaning lady feeds them.”
“Then what can it be?”
Iggy shrugged again and her eyebrows went as high as they could go.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But I think it must be very important.”
At the end of the day I waited for Iggy and Mum in the playground. We had to take all of our work home with us, all our books and pictures in a special folder. I had my folder under my arm. It was quite heavy. When Iggy came out of her classroom she had her folder and a little suitcase. She was having trouble carrying it all so I went to help her. I took Iggy’s folder and I put it with mine.
“What’s in the suitcase?” I said.
Iggy was bursting to tell me.
“It’s my job,” she said. “Do you want to see?”
We stopped in the playground and I put the folders down. Iggy put the little suitcase on the floor and she fiddled with the clips until it popped open.
“There!” she said.
Inside the suitcase was a bear. Iggy lifted him out. He was brown with a white patch on his eye and a shiny black nose.
“This,” Iggy said while the other kids and their mums and dads hurried and chattered around us, “is Barnaby.”
“Hello Barnaby,” I said, and I pretended to shake his hand. “How do you do?”
Iggy was very pleased with me. She hid behind him and she said, “I’m fine thank you,” in a gruff little bear’s voice.
Barnaby was wearing trousers and a tiny school jumper, just like the ones we were wearing. There were other clothes in the suitcase too, all folded neatly, and a real camera, the kind you have to throw away when you are finished with it.
“Look at his holiday clothes,” Iggy said, and she fished out a little flowery shirt to show me, and a baseball cap, and she giggled. I picked up the camera.
“Don’t drop it,” Iggy said. “Be careful.”
“What’s it for?” I said.
“It’s Barnaby’s camera,” Iggy said. “I mustn’t lose it.”
Just then, Mum came to find us in the playground. She carried our folders and I carried the little suitcase and Iggy carried Barnaby. She put him on her shoulders like Dad carries us sometimes. She held onto his hands just like Dad does.
“Can he see?” she said.
“Yes,” I said, and Mum said, “Who is that?”
“It’s Barnaby,” Iggy said.
“Who’s Barnaby?” Mum said.
“He is Iggy’s very important summer job,” I told her.
“I have to look after him,” Iggy said.
“You’ll be good at that,” said Mum.
“I know. I’ve got to take him everywhere, and take his picture. And I’ve got to show all the pictures to the whole class when I get back to school.”
Mum laughed. “How lovely,” she said.
Iggy said, “So every day he has to do something new and exciting for me to take a picture of.”
“OK,” said Mum.
“So it’s good news,” Iggy said.
“What is?” I said.
“About the seaside,” Iggy said.
“What seaside?” asked Mum.
Iggy said, “Flo said we could all go to the seaside and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to come. I was worried that my job would be too busy.”
“I see,” said Mum.
“Show Mum your picture, Flo,” Iggy said.
I took my folder from Mum and pulled out the picture of us at the seaside.
“There we are,” Iggy said. “And now Barnaby can come too.”
“I’ll draw a Barnaby and stick him on when I get home,” I said.
Iggy and Mum smiled at me at exactly the same time.
“Good idea,” they both said.
“So you don’t mind about the last day of school anymore?” I said to Iggy.
“No,” she said. “Not now I’ve got a job. Not now I’ve got Barnaby.”
“And you don’t mind about the long holiday?” I said to Mum.
“No,” Mum said and she winked at me. “Not now we’re going to the seaside.”
The whole house was turned upside down because we were packing for our holiday at the seaside. All of our rooms were a bit of a mess. Mum was making sandwiches for the journey. Dad couldn’t find anything.
“Where are my trunks?” he said.
Iggy giggled. “Trunks,” she said. “They belong to elephants.”
“Well,” Dad said. “The particular elephant they belong to is me,” and he swung his arm in front of his face like a real trunk and chased Iggy across the landing. Iggy squealed and snorted and jumped.
Mum shouted from downstairs, “What’s that stomping noise?”
“Elephants!” said Dad and Iggy, together.
“Elephants?” Mum said. “Are they coming on holiday with us?”
I said, “Only if they can find their swimming trunks.”
“Oh,” said Mum, “I see,” and she winked at me from the bottom of the stairs.
“Left hand drawer,” she called to Dad. “I thought elephants never forget.”
“Oh,” said Dad. “Thanks. This elephant did.”
We had a rucksack each to put our things in. Iggy’s was red with white squiggles on it, and mine was blue. Barnaby the bear had his own little brown suitcase with his clothes and his camera in. Iggy had to look after him for the whole summer and take his picture wherever we were.