me, “Mimi, could you just write down the bit that Sally wrote about being all right. Then we won’t be prying.”
“Please do that, Mimi,” sniffled Granny in the saddest voice. I didn’t say anything. I just slipped off Dad’s knee and went out of the kitchen and up the stairs and started writing down the bit from Sally’s diary that they wanted to see.
When I came down, Conor was there and so were Emmett and Emma. They must have come in when I was upstairs. Granny was putting out bowls of soup for all of them. Aunt B. was helping her. The kitchen was really crowded. I handed the note to Dad. He read it quietly, then handed it to Aunt B. and she read it out loud. At “
there is no need to call the police,”
the doorbell rang. At first I thought that it was the police, and then Grandad said, “I bet that’s your friend Orla.”
He was right, and I was glad to go up to my room with her, and Emma came up too while the adults talked about the note.
Orla and Emma had never met, but you wouldn’t have known it.
“Are you Dig?” asked Orla.
“No, I’m Dag,” answered Emma. “This silly moo is Dig.” And she pushed me onto the bed and the next thing, I don’t know how it happened, both Emma and Orla were on top of me and tickling me to death, and Emma was telling Orla to watch out “because Mimi does cracker-bums if she gets too giddy!”
And of course I did get too giddy and let out a huge cracker-bum, and both Emma and Orla fell back onto the floor, holding their noses and laughing.
It didn’t really seem right to be having so much fun when Sally was missing, but it is hard to be too serious with a friend like Orla and a cousin like Emma.
But then all of a sudden Orla did get serious. “I have a plan for finding Sally,” she said.
“Seriously?” asked Emma. She had stopped laughing now too.
“Seriously,” said Orla and we all sat on the bed and she explained. “We use Sparkler to track her down. Dogs have a great sense of smell. The police often use them to track down criminals.”
“Sally is not a criminal,” I said, but then I remembered about the stealing and I realized that she probably was one.
“They use dogs for tracking down missing people as well,” continued Orla.
“That’s right,” said Emma. “The dog gets the scent from a piece of the missing person’s clothes. I saw it on the telly.”
Then I remembered I had seen it too! On
Southsiders
when the old woman with the althesizers, or something like that . . . anyway, she had lost her memory and gotten lost, and they tracked her down with police dogs. The dogs sniffed her cardigan or something. “I’ll get one of Sally’s tops for Sparkler to sniff,” I said, and jumped up.
“Get one that hasn’t been washed,” called Orla. “It will have a stronger smell.”
Emma looked at Orla. “You’re clever!” she said to her, and Orla grinned.
“We’re taking Sparkler for a walk,” I told the adults.
“Taking the dog for a walk?” said Dad, looking puzzled.
“Good idea!” said Aunt B. “Good for the dog and good for you girls. No point in everyone moping around the house all day. Off you go. Chop-chop!”
Well, if Dad was surprised that I was taking Sparkler for a walk, it was nothing compared to how surprised Sparkler was. She charged in the minute I called out, “Walkies!” and flew around the kitchen, her tail wagging so hard it shook her whole fat body. She knocked into everyone and jumped on Aunt M. and put dirty paws all over her white jeans, and Aunt M. wasn’t a bit pleased but everybody smiled in spite of being so sad.
Once outside the front door, Sparkler made a run for the gate. I was holding on to her lead, but she just dragged me after her.
“She hasn’t had a walk for a long time, has she,” said Orla as she tried to hold Sally’s top up to Sparkler’s nose — but Sparkler didn’t even seem to notice it.
“SIT, SPARKLER!” I shouted, but of course that made no difference.