The secret diary of Katie Hawcroft- Entry 5
Easter is here! You would be hard pressed to tell the season from a look out of the window, but it’s here all the same. Perhaps the biggest giveaway is the line of cars parked nose to bumper outside our house. Which seem to mirror the line of houses, of which ours sits firmly in the middle. Unlike the sardine cars however, there is no gap between them, not even a cat’s whisker.
I guess the large number of parked cars relates to the number of parents who have decided, unluckily for them, to take time off from work to look after their kids. If they were hoping for long lazy days lying in the sun, it has forsaken them and me. But, I am cheerful. I really am.
Mum had another ‘friend’ come to visit, which would normally leave me feeling as dab and colourless as the sky but Erica and I have made plans.
Erica’s mother is quite honestly one of the sweetest people to walk upon this planet. Her kind roundly face and larger frame leads me to think that if she were a pie, she would be cherry flavoured, sweetened with lashings of sugar. So sweet she is, that she has planned a sleep over to end all sleep overs, just for Erica and me.
Perhaps she knows without asking that I need her kindness. Or maybe, and this is the more likely, that despite her kindness, she merely wishes to maintain her daughter’s happiness. Erica is an only child, which I guess makes me the perfect playmate.
Whatever the reason, whether it be the way I sometimes catch her looking at me with pity, or it is that I merely provide her daughter with entertainment, and in turn peace and quiet for her, I am lucky and excited.
Our plan is to catch the latest movie at Newton Cinema and then go out for pizza afterwards. All thanks to Mrs Horseham (Erica’s mum). I don’t know what film is showing now, I don’t have a TV or computer to find out. I thought about looking it up during Mr Gentle’s free period (before School finished) but I didn’t dare sour my reputation. Internet browsing, not for School purposes, is strictly frowned upon.
I haven’t told Mum yet, perhaps I’ll try later, once she’s come back from the doctors. Sometimes she’s brighter when she’s seen Mrs Crook, the doc. She goes every two weeks for her pills. I don’t they are helping all that much. Whatever the illness is that causes her to be the way she is, is not something that can be cured with pills, I think.
Well, secret keeper, we shall see. Either way, I know my secrets are always safe with you.