Free Mimi by John Newman Page A

you’ll see.” But his voice sounded flat and defeated, and I just knew he thought that she was gone forever, just like Mammy.
    Then Aunt B. arrived in her car, and she must have rung Aunt M. because she was in her car right behind. Aunt B. stepped out from behind the wheel and walked quickly up the path, Aunt M. trotting along after her. “Paul, put on the kettle,” she ordered Dad, “and you two go with Marigold. She’ll take you to school. And Mimi . . .”
    “Yes, Aunt B.?”
    “Stop sniffling. Sally is going to be perfectly all right.”

On the way to school, Aunt M. told us to write down the names — and telephone numbers and addresses if we knew them — of all Sally’s friends. Of course Conor didn’t know any of their names and I only knew a few. Sally had hung around with new friends since Mammy died, and they didn’t really talk much whenever I met them. They just stood and looked bored and chewed gum, and sometimes they smoked.
    “They all wear black,” said Conor. “They’re Goths or something like that. What’s the one with the stud in her tongue called, Mimi?”
    I knew that one because she was Sarah’s sister. She looked frightening but she was nicer than her bully sister. “Her name is Tara Sinclair. I know her sister. She lives at fifty-six Bayside Close. But that’s the only one I know,” I told Aunt M., but she said that was fine. Tara would know the names of the other friends.
    “We should stay at home and help look for Sally,” said Conor.
    “We’ll let you know if there’s any news,” replied Aunt M., not really answering him. “There’s no point in everyone getting their knickers in a twist,” she said with a grin, and squeezed Conor’s knee.
    That was just like Aunt M. If you were on a sinking ship, like the
Titanic,
she would say something to make you smile and take your mind off things. “A lot worse things than Sally going missing for a few hours have happened on
Southsiders,
haven’t they, Mimi?”
    I knew she was just trying to cheer me up — and it did make me feel better when she said things like that.
    She dropped off Conor first. I was late again, so Aunt M. came into the school with me and talked outside the door with Ms. Hardy for about ten minutes. When she came in, Ms. Hardy just smiled at me and said nothing — but I could see Sarah making her narrow eyes, and I knew that there would be trouble at recess.
    However, at recess Ms. Hardy asked me to stay back. When everyone had gone out, she called me up to her desk.
    I thought I was in for it. “I meant to get my homework done, Ms. Hardy,” I blurted out in a rush. “I was in the middle of math when Mrs. Lemon rang the doorbell —”
    “Shh!” said Ms. Hardy in a kind voice. “That’s not what I want to talk to you about, Mimi.”
    “Oh,” I said, but I could feel this stupid lump in my throat, and I knew if I said anything at all I would just start crying.
    “Cry if you feel like it,” said Ms. Hardy in such a gentle voice that the next thing I knew I was hugging her and crying and crying, and she was rocking me gently to and fro and whispering, “Shh! There now, there now.”
    In the end I stopped crying. My face felt all wet and snotty. Ms. Hardy handed me a tissue and I blew my nose like a foghorn.
    “Mimi,” said Ms. Hardy, in her normal voice, “don’t worry about your homework until your sister shows up. You know, she’s probably at home right now having a cup of tea,” she finished with a smile. “Now, run along before you miss all of your break.” And she shooed me out of the room.

Ms. Hardy was wrong. Sally was not at home when I got back after school. Grandad and Granny were sitting in the kitchen drinking tea.
    “Well, if it isn’t young Mimi herself,” declared Grandad when I walked in, but I could hear in his voice that he was only trying to be cheerful.
    “Now, Mimi,” said Granny in her bossy voice, “I want you to sit down and drink this lovely hot soup I’ve