Join the Club, Chapter One

The first rays of morning sun streaming through Mini-Flash Juniper’s window promised another run of lovely weather which would no doubt last all the way until Wednesday. Juniper tumbled out of bed, and without so much as a pause to take off the T-shirt and knickers she’d slept in, made a start brushing her hair.

Specifically, the single streak of electric blue, which stood out so strikingly since all the rest of it was fair and light.

Mini-Flash Juniper swished and swished, and then she would stop and hold up the silky shiny blue lock in her fingertips so she could see. Each time she did this, she smiled.

Then she would start swishing away at it again.

Presently the sound of one of her high little songs was also heard. Flashsatsumas and Miss Ugly might have been forgiven for thinking a canary had moved in.

Juniper hadn’t yet told her friends the reason she was happy.

And she would. In due course.

Just now however, it was nicer still to keep it to herself. To squeeze it snug and safe inside and hug it to her with glee, all the while swishing and smiling and swishing and singing her secret song.

Somebody knocked at the front door.

“Oh!” cried Mini-Flash Juniper.

It was no use shouting for her chalet-mates. One was still in his power-harness and the other would take five minutes to get there. All in a flurry Juniper jumped up from her dressing-table and ran barefooted through the living-room to answer the insistent knock.

There stood Sheila, little and pretty and red of head.

“Do you always come to the door like that?” was her greeting.

“No,” replied Mini-Flash Juniper, truthfully, as she sometimes forgot the underwear too.

“I’ve come to ask if I may borrow something,” Sheila commenced. “A certain Miss Tessie’s little stripey bum is overdue a punishment which only I can mete out.”

Mini-Flash Juniper was still holding her old-fashioned paddle-brush of scented pine.

“It’s for doing your hair with, Sheila!” she exclaimed, shocked. “I can’t lend it to you if you’re going to misuse it that way. Tessie can’t have done anything to deserve…”

Sheila was staring.

“Crazy golf,” were her words. “I’m going to kick her butt at crazy golf, when we play each other today. What did you think I meant?”

“Oh, just that,” replied Mini-Flash Juniper quickly, pushing the brush behind her pants.

“Really?” said Sheila. “Because it didn’t sound like that. It sounded like you thought I wanted to use your hairbrush to…”

“What have you come to borrow, Sheila?” Mini-Flash Juniper put in.

“The oilseed, please,” that one answered. “Just to make sure we’re safe while we’re playing, as it’ll be just the two of us. We decided not to invite any spectators, you see, and I didn’t like to ask Vramm to watch over us. This is a world where sparks can fly, Mini-Flash Juniper,” Sheila advised her very seriously. “And you know how confrontations distress him, even when they’re between other people.”

Juniper was still struggling to banish the hairbrush from her thoughts. She’d seen the iron instruments humans used to play the sport called crazy golf, and if sparks started flying because of those, it would surely be much worse.

“Oh, Mini-Flash Juniper,” declared Sheila laughingly, having marked the other’s hesitation. “There’s never been a girl like you. All that happened was that yesterday, when we met up with Tessie as we’d promised her we would, a very pleasant time was had by everyone despite the weather and the world nearly coming to an end, and the upshot of it was that Tessie and I agreed, in private, that should the sun be shining this morning and should the morning come in the first place, then a little friendly at crazy golf might be just the way for us to resolve certain matters.”

“A friendly?” Juniper repeated. “So friendly you’re worried it’d traumatize Vramm?”

“Would you like to go and fetch me the oilseed now, Mini-Flash Juniper?” Sheila said.

Telling her to wait a minute, Juniper twirled in her slept-in Luttertons and hurried back to her bedroom. The sorry wilted sprig of dingy yellow she brought back had been picked two weeks ago to the day, and it was lucky the camp boasted few guests as well-brought-up as Sheila, because anyone else would surely have said something. As it was however, Juniper’s efforts were rewarded with no less than the radiant smile Sheila reserved for occasions when everything was going her way.

“Love what you’ve done with your hair,” she added out of common feminine courtesy, before bouncing away in contentment while tucking the oilseed underneath her white.

That wasn’t a bad idea Mini-Flash Juniper had put into Sheila’s red head. She wished she’d thought to borrow a hairbrush from Maureen, just in case it came to that.

Although there probably wasn’t going to be any need.

Not, as Juniper had likewise surmised, when golf clubs were provided.

There stood Tessie at the entrance to the course, leaning on hers. How ladylike, Sheila thought sniffily to herself. Never even mind the gaudy striped T-shirt dress or the sunglasses propped up on her presumptuous forehead. It was utterly beyond Sheila what made a girl like that imagine for one minute a sweet boy such as Calvin would ever…

She collected her club with dignity, stifling for the time being such thoughts.

“Aw,” was Tessie’s welcome. “You showed up. Knew you didn’t have much sense!”

“Shall we just refresh our memories as to the terms of this competition?” Sheila breezed back, and she didn’t mean the ones that were printed on the reverse of their score-cards.

“Er, if you like,” said Tessie. “Was it that when I win, little ginger gerbils have got to keep their stubby claws out of Calvin?”

“You asked for this, Tessie!” Sheila erupted in reply.

“Literally,” agreed the other.

So saying, Tessie looked around. No spectators. She smiled.

“You might not feel so much like doing that while you’re withdrawing your massive waspy bum-stinger out of the individual aforesaid,” Sheila informed her, while striding with a golf ball to the start of the first hole. “I’m assuming you’re aware alphabetical sequence determines the playing-order?”

“I’m assuming you’re aware half your pressed-flower collection’s poking out your knickers?” was Tessie’s response.

Sheila’s cheeks were hot as she thumbed the oilseed back to where it was supposed to be, but a deep soothing breath straight after did the trick. So much so that she was poetry in motion when she took her swing, this time positively hoping Tessie feasted her eyes on her prettiest frills, as flaring pleats described a fan of petals before following each other back to form.

There’s your pressed flower, wasp-butt.

The ball whacked the angle of the L-shaped run, and was still spinning to as to make circuits of the far smaller round enclosure into which it dropped as neat as could be.

“Oh, one thing I forget to mention, Tessie-Wessie!” Sheila fairly set to music. “It so happens I’ve played this game at home. Maybe it would have been sporting to tell you that!”

Tessie looked back at her levelly.

Small triumphs, for a girl she was even now in the process of serving up on a silver platter. Which had been the real reason Tessie suggested they do this.

Maybe it would have been sporting to tell Sheila that.

END OF CHAPTER ONE