A MILLION ANGELS Read Online Free PDF

my lunch. I’m not really hungry. Mum and Georgie huddle together and talk in whispers. Granny is lost in her dream. I have to chop up Milo’s meat and play trains with his veg. Jess is opposite me. She scoffs her food like usual with her big fat stupid grin.
    â€œI’ve got big plans for my presentation,” she says, whooshing her dolphins through the air, dunking their snouts in her gravy. “Have you decided what you’re doing yours on yet?”
    I glare at her.
    â€œI’ve got more important things on my mind, Jess,” I say. “More important things like my dad.”
    â€œYou’re boring, Mima,” she says. “Get over yourself. He’ll either come back alive or he’ll come back dead!” She slurps a piece of floppy beef into her mouth. “Nothing much we can do about it. But he’ll be back one way or another. Shame my dad has to come back at all.”
    I cover Milo’s ears.
    â€œPlease don’t say the D.E.A.D. word in front of Milo,” I whisper. “You’ll set him off crying again.”
    â€œI’ll say what I want,” Jess glowers. “You’re not the boss of me, Jemima Taylor-Jones.”
    Then she storms off to get pudding.
    After lunch, Milo charges about with some little ones playing war. He uses his fingers to make a gun.
    â€œPiiiiooooowww! Piiiioooowwwww! Piiiiooooowww!”
    The noise saws into my brain. I wish they would just stop and sit down and do some colouring or somethingpeaceful like that. A red chubby-cheeked baby on another table starts crying and crying and crying and his mum ignores him and keeps chatting on and on and on. Everyone’s voices are screeching and battling with each other and I wish I could scream out loud and say, STOP!!!! SHUT UP!!!!!! BE QUIET!!!!!
    I slide closer to Mum.
    â€œCan we go soon, Mum? Please!” I whisper. “I’m so bored.”
    â€œI’m not ready to leave yet, Mima,” she shouts above the din, drowning me with custard breath. “I’m having fun.”
    â€œBut how can you have fun,” I say, “when Dad’s only just gone away? And you didn’t even want to come yourself. You said!”
    â€œBecause what else am I supposed to do, Jemima?” she hisses. “I have to be here, and if I let myself go I’ll end up in a puddle of tears and I won’t be able to stop for the next six months. And what good would that do? So I’m trying to get on and have fun. I’m well aware that Dad’s gone and I don’t need you to keep reminding me of that fact every five minutes. I’m just trying to put a brave face on it – we all are…”
    She cradles her fat belly in her hands and her voice cracks open.
    â€œI know you’re hurting too, Jemima, and I’m sorry that it’s so hard for you when he goes, but going on about it isn’t going to help.” She digs around in her bag and pulls out my iPod. “If you’re that bored listen to this, or go and talk to Jess, because we’re not leaving yet.”
    I fire invisible bullets at her. I’d rather be facing possible death in Afghanistan with my dad than be stuck here with her and Milo and the fat greedy baby in her tummy.
    I slide over to Granny.
    â€œI’m bored, Granny,” I say. “I want to go home.”
    Granny smiles at me, but she’s not really here. She’s lost in her memories of Derek and Bognor Regis and the Blitz.
    She pats my arm.
    â€œListen to your music for a bit, pet,” she smiles. “Like Mum said.”
    I get another helping of apple crumble and custard and plug myself into Kiss Twist and as soon as they start singing ‘A Million Angels’ I know I’ve discovered the first part of my Bring Dad Home mission.
    I dig around in Mum’s bag, find a biro and a felt-tippen and set to work on my skin. I draw a million angels up and down my arms and blow them to my