Trouble At School

new yellow polo shirt and navy cardigan were splattered with cherry-red yoghurt.
Mum passed Bella a handful of tissues and, between them, Bella and Magda dabbed it dry.
Dry but sticky.

“Phew! That’s better,” said Magda. “Can I have my toast now?”
Magda’s toast was stuck upside down to Bella’s skirt. Bella pulled it off and handed it to her friend without a word. Yellow butter, orange marmalade and brown toast crumbs clung to her navy school skirt in a smeary mess.
Bella tried hard not to cry.

and banged it hard.
No answer.
She banged it again.
And again.
Bella lifted the letter box and peered inside. “Magda!” she shouted. “Come on! We’ll be late for school!”
Above her, a bedroom window flew open and a head appeared. It belonged to Babcia.

“Is school today?” she enquired.
Babcia was Magda’s grandmother. Round and wrinkled like an old apple, her hair was still in its night-time curlers.
“Yes,” said Bella.
“One minute,” said Babcia politely, then she roared, “MAGDA! GET UP! IS SCHOOL!”
Bella and Sid sat in the car and waited and waited, while Bella’s mum repeated words under her breath that they would get into BIG TROUBLE for saying.
At last the door opened and Magda zoomed out, hair flying, shoes undone, clutching a paper bag.

“She asked for a lift!” said Bella.
“Did she?” Mum looked surprised. “She never asked me!”
Come to think of it, she hadn’t asked anyone, thought Bella. Magda had told her it was a good idea that her mum was taking them to school on the first day of term because it meant she could have a lift as well.
“Go and get her then,” sighed Mum, and she switched off the engine.
Bella jumped out and pressed the bell on Magda’s front door