Following Flora Read Online Free PDF Page B

knees. Bounces it off his right knee. Bounces it off his left knee. He has obviously been practicing. A lot. Right, left, right, left. Right ankle. Left knee. Chest. Head. Left knee. Right knee. Jas counts each keepy-uppy. Dodi yawns loudly. Jas giggles and announces she’s lost count and they have to start again. Twig tells her the whole thing is filmed anyway and they don’t need her. Jas tells him one day he’ll be sorry he ever said that. Twig almost drops the ball but recovers manfully with a skillful sideways flick of the left ankle. He looks triumphant but drops the ball when from the open bathroom window two stories above comes the sound of someone shouting AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
    FATHER
    (his disembodied voice floating down from the window)
    Jas! JAS!! Where is that child?
    Â 
    Jas vaults out of her deck chair and tries to hide behind it, kittens and all.
    TWIG
    She’s out here!
    Â 
    DODI
    You’re a rat, Twig Gadsby. I hope you know that.
    Â 
    CAMERAMAN
    It’s best not to mention rats in this family.
    Â 
    Sound of footsteps on the stairs, culminating in Father erupting into the garden, clad in nothing but a miniature towel which he holds around his waist with one hand. He marches toward Jas with his other hand extended before him, thumb and forefinger curiously pinched together, and opens them when he reaches her.
    FATHER
    Well?
    Â 
    JAS
    (understandably looking like Father is deranged)
    It’s a black dot. Oh! It’s a black dot that moves!
    Â 
    FATHER
    It’s a flea! It’s a flea!! Your cats have given me fleas!!!
    Â 
    Dodi gasps, and almost immediately begins to scratch her head. Father yells, “You see? We’ve all got them!” He slaps at something on his arm, accidentally letting go of his towel. Dodi gasps again.
    FATHER
    TURN THAT ****** CAMERA OFF, BLUE!!
    Â 
    Cameraman complies, but before she does, another sound floats down from above. Picture pans up to the bathroom window, where MOTHER and FLORA stand, clutching each other, tears of laughter pouring down their faces at the sight of Father’s naked bottom.
    SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 23
    Dad tried to order us all to clean the house after finding the fleas, but I escaped by telling him I had promised to go around to Zoran’s to talk about making edits to my recording (which was true). Dodi came with me. She said she had nothing better to do, but I know that ever since she has seen him on film, she has been dying to meet Zach.
    â€œHe works on Saturday mornings,” I told her. “He has a job at the old record shop on the avenue.”
    Dodi, who is an eternal optimist, said she was coming anyway.
    Zoran said he was very pleased with my recording, and could I just cut down all the bits in between pieces, the applause, and the tuning up, and so forth, to make it a little bit shorter.
    â€œOh, and take out that bit with Flora and Zach,” he added. “There’s far too much footage of them looking at each other.”
    Dodi protested that was the best bit. Zoran said it was inappropriate.
    â€œYou
can’t
get rid of that footage,” Dodi said as we ran downstairs. “It would be criminal. It would be a waste. It would be a
criminal waste
.”
    And then we both stopped talking, because
he
was coming up the stairs toward us.
    Zachary Smith.
    Who Flora’s in love with.
    He stopped in front of us. “Oh,” he said. Then, “You’re the one with the camera.”
    â€œShe is indeed,” Dodi drawled when I couldn’t think of an answer.
    â€œWith the kittens,” said Zach.
    â€œThey’re my little sister’s.”
    â€œCool,” he stammered. And then he looked embarrassed and mumbled about having forgotten something and being late for work, and ran off up the stairs.
    â€œVery, very odd,” commented Dodi.
    â€œMost peculiar,” I agreed.
    â€œDo you think he was trying to charm you? Like