Papa Georgio Read Online Free PDF Page B

Christmas.
    ‘Shall we go and look out?’ Fizz suggested, nodding towards the porthole.
    Breaking off hunks of Fruit and Nut, we knelt on seats by a window, seeing the blue line of water outside lurch first this way, then that. I started to feel a bit queasy with all that pop inside me.
    ‘We’re going to Italy,’ Fizz told me. He had a Manchester accent too, only gentler.
    ‘So’re we.’
    Fizz looked pleased. I felt glad as well. Suddenly our journey didn’t seem so lonely and weird.
    ‘They have giant squid in Italy,’ he announced. ‘I want to see one – they can be up to two tons in weight.’
    ‘Bet you won’t see one of those.’ I felt angry suddenly, at the way he said it, as if I could feel all his longing and see that he was sure to be disappointed.
    ‘No,’ he agreed, looking up at me suddenly with those startling eyes. They seemed to looked right into me. ‘But there are octopuses. How old’re you?’
    ‘Eleven. What about you?’
    ‘I’m thirteen – just. On May 17th.’
    ‘What school d’you go to?’ I asked. I was missing the end of my last ever summer term at the Valley Primary.
    ‘Oh…’ he said vaguely. ‘I don’t go to school really.’
    I didn’t get this. ‘What d’you mean?’
    Fizz shrugged, fiddling with a loose thread in the sleeve of his jumper. ‘I just don’t do school. I went in Manchester for a bit but we move about too much. I hate school anyway and Maggie doesn’t like them: she says you learn more by travelling the world.’
    ‘Maggie?’
    ‘My mother. She doesn’t like being called “Mum” either.’
    I tried to imagine calling my own Mum ‘Liz,’ but I couldn’t.
    ‘Why’re you called Fizz? ‘Cos you like fizzy pop?’
    ‘No – it’s my name. Part of my name that is…’ Fizz was looking really uncomfortable and I was sure I could see a blush on his cheeks. ‘You don’t need to know my real name – ‘He scrambled off the seat and seemed very tall. He stood as if ready to run. ‘D’you want to come down to the Ship with me?’
    ‘We’re on the ship,’ I told him witheringly, as if he’d lost his mind.
    ‘No - the van. Maggie calls it the “Ship of Dreams”. So we call it the Ship.’ He frowned suddenly. ‘I s’pose you’re going to have a go at me about that now?’
    ‘No!’ I said indignantly. He made it sound as if I’d been having a go at him ever since we’d met! But I felt sorry for him. He seemed to expect to be made fun of constantly. ‘I won’t. And by the way I’ve got a really awful second name.’
    ‘Have you?’ Fizz sounded hopeful.
    ‘Audrey Jean – after my gran. Dad’s’ mother.’
    Fizz stared at me, disappointed. ‘Is that all? That’s not that bad. Come on – let’s go.’

IV.
    No one stopped us as we rattled down the steps back into the hold full of cars even though Fizz said he thought we weren’t allowed down there. His Green Flash slap-slapped on the metal floor. He had a fast, loping walk and I had to run to keep up. He opened the door of the van with a key on a long red cord round his neck.
    ‘Blimey!’ I gasped as we climbed inside.
    It was nothing like Grandpa’s caravan with its white walls and grey seats. It was magical!
    Every available bit of wall was painted a patchwork of different colours: pink, orange, bright leaf green, sunflower yellow. At the windows hung purple curtains with tie-dyed swirls of white and lime green in them. A section in the middle of the ceiling could lift up to make the van higher, but all round it – my face broke into a smile as I looked up - was velvet-blue dotted with silver stars. Over one corner hung a sickle of moon.
    ‘It’s fab!’ I grinned at Fizz. ‘Who did it?’
    ‘Maggie. She likes lots of colour. She says it’s good for your spirit….’
    He was interrupted by the same cracked voice I’d heard earlier, saying very distinctly, ‘Shut-up!’
    Fizz beckoned me. He seemed in command now, like the captain of a real ship on an