““‘Today,” she announces, showing her big horse-teeth, “we’re going to see the Eighth Wonder of the World.” I stop fiddling with my hair. ‘What is it?’ I ask. My voice comes out in a nervous squeak. It’s the first time I’ve dared to speak to her. I’m not supposed to be here. The others are all old - except Mum. “Wait and see.” I hate it when grown-ups say that. And other stupid things like “Because I say so.” “And it’ll be a long wait, Tilly. It’s right on the top of the Downs, so it’ll take a g...ood hour to get there.” “My name’s Natalie,” I mutter. “Shh,” Mum hisses. “Don’t be cheeky.” It’s not cheeky; it’s a fact. I was christened Natalie Teresa. It was Dad who thought up Tilly, and Dad’s disappeared. When strangers use his special name for me, it makes me feel horrible inside, like seeing his half of the wardrobe empty, and his “Best Dad in the World” mug hanging on its hook. “Well now, if everybody’s ready, let’s make a start, shall we?”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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