Me and Mr Jones Read Online Free PDF Page B

smiling at the girls. ‘Hello, ladies, my name is Charlie. What are you called?’
    Hazel beamed. ‘Hazel,’ she said. ‘Hello. We’re having a party later on, just for girls.’
    Izzy stiffened, hoping Charlie wouldn’t do anything so naff as to try and invite himself along. He didn’t.
    ‘Cool,’ he said gravely. ‘And you must be . . . ?’ he added, looking straight at Willow.
    Hazel hadn’t finished yet, though. ‘It’s a certain type of party,’ she said mysteriously, ‘but I’m not really allowed to say any more, otherwise I might not get my fizzy orange. But it’s a party where you wear something funny.’ She tapped her nose beguilingly.
    ‘Aha,’ Charlie replied. ‘ That sort of party. Sounds brilliant.’ He smiled at Willow. ‘Hello,’ he said, considering her carefully. ‘You look to me as if you’re a bit older than my niece, Matilda. Let me guess: are you . . . ten?’
    Willow shook her head, still on her guard.
    ‘Sorry,’ Charlie said cheerfully. ‘Rubbish at guessing ages. If you’re not ten, you must be . . . thirteen?’
    Willow shook her head again, although Izzy was sure she detected a tiny uplift of her mouth at the corners, as if privately thrilled to be thought a teenager.
    ‘Twenty-nine?’ Charlie guessed. ‘You’re never thirty ?’
    Hazel giggled. ‘She’s nine ,’ she said. ‘And I’m seven.’
    ‘Shut up, Hazel,’ Willow muttered, glaring again.
    ‘Girls, that’s enough,’ Izzy said. ‘I’ve not managed to get a word in yet. Hello, Charlie. This is Willow and this is Hazel. Nice to see you.’
    He grinned. ‘You too. You look even better out of your leotard,’ he said, indicating the denim skirt and pink T-shirt she’d pulled on. ‘I mean . . .’ He blushed.
    His awkwardness made her like him a little bit more. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘So, what are you drinking?’
    ‘No, I’ll get these, it was my idea,’ he said at once. Phew. She only had a fiver in her purse, but her pride would never have let her admit as much.
    ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’d like a small glass of red wine, please, and the girls would like . . . what was it? One fizzy orange and one lemonade?’
    ‘Correctamundo,’ Hazel beamed. Willow was staring pointedly away.
    ‘Coming right up,’ Charlie said, and vanished off to the bar.
    ‘Pyjamas, pyjamas, pyjamas,’ Willow said, as soon as he was out of earshot.
    ‘Come on, babe,’ Izzy said, putting an arm around her. ‘Let’s sit down. He’s all right.’
    ‘But you said—’
    ‘I know, but we haven’t given him a chance yet. We’ve only been here two minutes – we can’t walk out now.’
    Hazel had already sat down and was swinging her legs happily. ‘He’s funny,’ she said. ‘I like him.’
    ‘Well, I don’t,’ Willow said.
    ‘Give him a chance,’ Izzy said again. ‘And, before you know it, we’ll be back home in our jim-jams. Tell you what, Willow, if you’re really good, you can choose the film, okay?’
    Willow nodded. ‘That’s my girl,’ said Izzy.
    As it happened, there was no need for anyone to throw the word ‘pyjamas’ into the conversation from then on. Charlie turned out to be the best fun any of them had had in ages. He taught the girls how to flip beer mats and catch them. He made them all laugh with stories of his naughty boyhood. And he even charmed Willow, by producing a fossil he’d found that afternoon on Charmouth beach. ‘Have you been fossil-hunting down there yet?’ he asked, and looked appalled when they shook their heads. ‘No? Oh, you’ll love it, you can get some cool ammonites,’ he said. ‘Tell you what, I’ve still got the little fossil hammer that I had when I was about your age. I can lend it to you, if you want.’
    ‘Will you come with us?’ Hazel asked immediately, her big brown eyes beseeching.
    Charlie glanced up at Izzy. ‘Maybe, if it’s all right with your mum.’
    ‘Can we, Mum? Can we?’ chorused both girls with such excitement