Gift of the Gab Read Online Free PDF Page A

out,’ said Dad quietly, ‘the sneaky mongrels didn’t come to town to film an Anzac Day segment. They came to film me.’
    I stared at Dad while I digested this.
    For a sec I hoped his distraught expression was just from the stress of being a star and wondering which belt buckle to wear.
    It wasn’t.
    â€˜Or rather what I should say,’ said Dad angrily, ‘is that they came to film a heap of cock-eyed lies and nonsense.’
    He stood up and stormed out of the room.
    His bedroom door slammed.
    I started to go after him. Claire grabbed me.
    â€˜Let me talk to him first,’ she said. ‘Please.’
    I didn’t take much persuading because I’ve got something even more important to do.
    I’m on my way to do it now.
    That’s one of the great things about talking with your hands. You can run all the way into town and then yell at someone straight away without having to catch your breath.
    How dare Paige Parker try and get a mean cruel comedy segment out of a great dad just cause he’s a bit eccentric.
    Anyway, why shouldn’t an apple farmer sing country and western songs? Country and western singers are allowed to have apple trees.
    Let’s see what Paige Cheese-Brain Parker has to say about that.
    I know where she’s staying.
    Posh TV people don’t stay in cheap motels or caravan parks, and there’s only one posh motel in town.
    I just wish it wasn’t Mrs Figgis’s.

I thought I knew the worst thing that could happen at Mrs Figgis’s motel.
    I thought it was if Mrs Figgis caught me and made me hose out Dermot’s car.
    Boy, was I wrong.
    What happened was much worse than that.
    I was scared Mrs Figgis would be at reception, so I didn’t go there to ask which unit Paige Parker was in. Motel owners have to spend long hours at the reception desk in case the guests try and steal the pens.
    As it turned out I didn’t need to ask. I guessed a TV star would be in the Honeymoon Suite cause it’s got a spa and a microwave.
    At least I was right about that.
    I crept across the carpark towards the Honeymoon Suite, ducking down behind the cars so I couldn’t be seen from the office.
    Suddenly a car door opened and almost bashed me in the head.
    A grown-up got out of the car.
    It was Mrs Figgis.
    â€˜Rowena Batts,’ she said loudly.
    I froze, wishing there was a very deep sandpit nearby so I could bury myself.
    There wasn’t.
    â€˜Um . . .’ I sr’ud. ‘Er . . .’
    My hands flapped helplessly.
    It’s really hard making excuses when the other person doesn’t understand sign and you can’t think of anything to say even if they did.
    â€˜You poor kid,’ said Mrs Figgis. Except she didn’t sound very sympathetic. ‘I think what your father did to you is a disgrace.’
    I stared at her.
    What did she mean?
    â€˜No wonder you do crazy things,’ said Mrs Figgis, glaring at me angrily. ‘I’d want to kill him if I was you.’
    I started to back away, wondering if the pressure of living alone with Dermot had made her go mental.
    â€˜It’s OK,’ she said, ‘I know who you’re here to see. Go on, she’s in 23.’
    I hurried over to the Honeymoon Suite before Mrs Figgis snapped and attacked me with her shopping bag.
    Paige Parker opened the door while I was still bashing on it.
    Her face relaxed and she put her hand on my shoulder. ‘Rowena,’ she said, ‘what a nice surprise. Come in. Come in.’
    I went in.
    â€˜Have a seat,’ said Paige Parker.
    I didn’t. I went over to the big mirror on the wall, picked up a lipstick from the clutter of makeup on the bench, and wrote in big letters on the glass, ‘LAY OFF MY DAD.’
    â€˜Rowena,’ said Paige Parker, ‘we have to talk.’
    I glared at her. Nobody tells me to talk if I don’t want to.
    I tore a page out of my notebook and handed it