Twin Tales by Jacqueline Wilson Read Free Book Online Page A

Mum called.
    But Connie couldn’t.
    In the end Mum had to fetch Dad. He took baby Claire. Mum looked after baby Charles. And Connie sat shivering on the side.

4. Colouring Sharks
    â€˜You should see the twins in the pool. It’s quite incredible!’ said Mum.
    â€˜The little pets! They can really
swim
?’ said Gran.
    â€˜Well . . . not properly, of course. But they bob up and down like ducklings,’ said Mum.
    â€˜They must look so
sweet
,’ said Gran.
    â€˜Even when they’re in a really niggly mood and nothing else will comfort them, the moment they go in that little swimming-pool they start gurgling happily,’ said Mum. She paused. ‘Not like
some
people.’
    Mum and Gran were talking very quietly, but Connie could still hear every word they were saying. She was drawing a picture of the twins swimming. It had started off a very good picture. Connie was clever at drawing. She drew Claire and Charles looking very cute in their stripy swimming costumes.
    Mum and Gran had said it was a beautiful picture. But then they’d sat on the sofa together and went on and on and on about the twins and swimming.

    Connie suddenly drew a great big enormous shark in the swimming- pool with the twins. The shark had a great big enormous mouth glittering with sharp teeth. It was swimming very near the twins. It looked as if it was about to have a delicious baby-snack for breakfast.
    â€˜Poor Connie! So this being scared of swimming has developed into a real phobia?’ said Gran.
    Connie didn’t know exactly what a phobia was, but it sounded feeble and pathetic and babyish. She
felt
feeble and pathetic and babyish. She bent her head over her drawing. There was suddenly a spot of real water puddling the swimming-pool picture.
    â€˜Connie?’ said Mum. ‘Are you all right?’
    â€˜Mmm,’ said Connie.
    â€˜I’ve just been talking things over with Gran,’ said Mum.
    â€˜That’s right, dear,’ said Gran. ‘I’ve been telling your mum I’d love it if you came round to visit me on Sunday mornings. Would you like that, Connie? You can bring all your bits and pieces to play with – and maybe you’ll draw me some lovely pictures to pin up in my kitchen. Let’s see your picture of the twins swimming. Have you finished it?’
    â€˜Not quite,’ said Connie quickly. She took her blue felt tip and scribbled hurriedly over the great big enormous shark.
    â€˜Connie, don’t do it like that! You’ll go over all the lines,’ said Mum.
    â€˜I’m just colouring in the water,’ said Connie.
    The shark simply wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard she coloured over him.
    â€˜Let’s see,’ said Gran, getting up. ‘Whoops,’ said Connie. ‘Oh dear, yes, I’ve spoilt it.’
    She tore the page out of her drawing book and crumpled it up in her fist.
    â€˜Oh, Connie!’ said Gran. ‘What a shame!’
    â€˜Never mind, Gran. I’ll draw you another one next Sunday,’ said Connie.

    Next Sunday she did draw Gran a picture. She drew herself, on dry land.
    â€˜It’s a lovely picture, dear!’ said Gran, and she pinned it up on the kitchen wall.
    Then Connie drew a picture of Gran.
    â€˜Why have you drawn all those dark bits on my forehead?’ Gran said. ‘I look as if I’ve got a dirty face.’
    â€˜That’s all the wrinkles,’ said Connie.
    â€˜Oh dear,’ said Gran, and she sighed.
    â€˜Aren’t you going to pin that picture up too?’ said Connie.
    â€˜Yes, of course, dear,’ said Gran, looking at her face in the shiny kettle, and sighing again. ‘How about doing a portrait of Grandpa now?’
    Grandpa wasn’t very well. He spent a lot of his time having a little doze. He dozed all the time Connie was drawing his portrait. Connie went to show Gran the finished picture.
    â€˜I wish you hadn’t drawn him with