Free The Listmaker by Robin Klein Page A

Except I got into a row over mine, because I’d used a library book by mistake. But what a super idea for Christmas presents! It shows you must have loads of imagination.’
    I felt a little twinge of something that felt almost like jealousy. It wasn’t just because of the compliment about having loads of imagination, though I couldn’t help thinking that Aunt Dorothy had never said anything like that to
me
. It was more because she was chatting so easily to Corrie. Usually she didn’t strike up conversations with people she’d just met. If she was collecting me from school on Fridays instead of Aunty Nat or Dad, she preferred to wait in the car until I came out with my bag. She said it saved time, but I knew it was to avoid any stray parents, teachers or kids. But now she and Corrie Ryder were crackling away at each other like a house on fire. They were talking about gardening, of all things! Corrie not only sounded as though she knew quite a lot about it, but was actually
interested
.
    â€˜If it’s ideas for hedges you’re after, you should check out our nursery,’ she said. ‘Dad’s got all sorts of hedge plants.’
    â€˜Does he have jacaranda trees, too? I
love
them.’
    â€˜If he hasn’t got any in stock right now, he can always order you one. And if you like azaleas …’
    It almost felt as though
I
was the one being given a lift instead of Corrie. I stopped listening and concentrated proudly on what kind of outfit to buy for the wedding. It would have to be
very
special, something that would make Dad and Piriel pleased to introduce me to their friends. Something that made me look glamorous and interesting …
    When we dropped Corrie off at the indoor rock-climbing place, she waved goodbye from the entrance, but I didn’t react until she’d gone inside. My mind was still full of the wedding. I kept seeing myself, beautifully dressed, mingling with all the guests and knowing
exactly
what to say to each one. Putting last-minute touches to Piriel’s hair before the official photographs. Piriel and Dad insisting that
I
should be included in all those photographs. Offering to get people fresh drinks, and not spilling one drop. Except Avian Cottage somehow kept appearing as the backdrop for all those delightful images, which was perfectly
ridiculous
!
    â€˜That was kind of rude, Sarah, not waving back to Corrie,’ Aunt Dorothy remarked, turning left for the Moreton Centre.
    â€˜You just missed the arrow lights,’ I said distractedly. ‘We’re going to have trouble finding a parking spot.’
    We cruised around all the car-park levels twice. Aunt Dorothy wasn’t aggressive enough to thwart people stealing spaces from right under her nose. I began to chew at a fingernail, but even when we finally wangled a space, she stopped to look at a bank of native plants. Heat blasted across the enormous car park like dragon’s breath, but I still couldn’t hurry her along. She took no more notice of heatwaves than she did of being punctual for appointments! I might as well have tried to shove Mount Kosciuszko another metre further along to the left.
    Piriel, dressed in white and looking as cool and unruffled as iced milk, swept aside my flustered apology about being late. She even smiled at Aunt Dorothy as though it was a pleasant surprise to have an extra person on our shopping trip. (She didn’t flinch at the sight of the camouflage bag, either. The way Piriel managed that, I saw with keen interest, was to glance at it once, then pretend it wasn’t even there.) And most graciously of all, she wouldn’t hear of Aunt Dorothy going off on her own.
    â€˜Oh, you
must
stick around while we shop,’ she said. ‘Sarah will need shoes and a bag to go with the new dress, and it will be more fun deciding all that between us. Pity it happens to clash with the pre-Christmas rush, though. Aren’t the