Dandelion Clocks by Rebecca Westcott Read Free Book Online

there is no way I could have this conversation if they were around.
    ‘I’m not sure,’ I whisper, suddenly feeling that Ben’s smile could have meant just about anything. ‘Yes – maybe – I don’t know.’
    ‘It’s hard to know
what
to think about boys sometimes, isn’t it?’ says Mum and I look at her in surprise. What would she know about it? She’s been married to Dad for fifteen years.
    Mum laughs. I guess my face is telling her exactly what I’m thinking.
    ‘Yes, Liv, believe it or not I was once your age. And I did like the occasional boy or two, or five. I do remember what it’s like – and mostly I remember it being very confusing!’ She takes hold of my hand. ‘Ooh, cold hands!’ Mum tucks my hand inside both of hers and rubs, warming my fingers.
    ‘But it wasn’t the same for you,’ I tell her.
    ‘No?’ She moves on to my other hand.
    ‘Everything’s different these days. You and Dad are always saying that.’
    ‘
Some
things are different,’ she corrects. ‘Other things will always be the same, and sometimes the only way to cope with things is by knowing that you are not the first person who has ever had to deal with a situation. And you will definitely not be the last.’ She stops rubbing my hands and stares out of the window and it feels like I’ve lost her for a moment.
    ‘Mum?’ I say, and she snaps her head back towards me. ‘I don’t know what to do next.’
    ‘You don’t have to do anything special,’ says Mum. ‘Life is an adventure, Liv. Sometimes you just need to let it happen. Ben smiled at you – so smile back!’
    I grin at her, feeling happy inside.
    ‘I just need you to remember something really important,’ Mum says, and I groan. Here it comes – the talk about keeping safe and behaving myself. I should have known that she wouldn’t be able to resist giving me a lecture.
    ‘I want you never to forget that I understand. I know how it feels. It’s not always going to be easy
for you to talk to me – but there’s something I want to give you that I hope will help when you need reminding that you’re not on your own.’ Mum pushes back her chair and stands up.
    ‘Get a snack and meet me upstairs in my room. Give me five minutes.’ She leaves the kitchen and I’m left wondering what it is that she’s talking about.
    I make myself a drink and grab a biscuit from the pig tin. Isaac bought it for Mum for Mother’s Day a few years ago. It’s hideous actually, but Mum claims to love it. I think she only uses it cos she doesn’t want to hurt Isaac’s feelings and it was really a miracle that he bought her anything at all. He doesn’t normally get the point of giving things to other people and I end up putting his name on whatever I’ve bought.
    By the time I get upstairs, Mum is dragging a box out from under her bed and wiping an inch-thick layer of dust off the top.
    ‘Ooh, what’ve you got there then? Family heirloom?’ I say, throwing myself on the bed.
    She hauls the box up and puts it down next to me. ‘As close to a family heirloom as you’re likely to get, so be impressed. Go on then, open it up!’
    I have to admit, I am pretty excited. Ideas about
what might be inside the box are flying into my head – precious jewellery maybe, or a vintage summer dress that would make me irresistible to Ben. I yank open the lid and look inside.
    ‘Books?’ I say. ‘And dusty, ancient ones too!’
    ‘Hang on a minute, Liv – and less of the ancient if you don’t mind. These aren’t just any old books. They’re my diaries from when I was young.’
    Diaries, hey? My ears prick up at this and I start to feel a bit less disappointed. This could be hilarious – I bet Mum was a real goody-goody when she was a kid.
    ‘Now, I’m not a world expert on anything but what I
do
know about is being an eleven-year-old girl. You don’t have to read them all now, but I’m giving you these diaries to read whenever you think that nobody understands you.’