Free Butterfly Summer by Anne-Marie Conway Page A

relieved.
    “I don’t think you should see him again anyway,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I bet he only came over because it’s the summer holidays and he was bored.”
    “No he didn’t. He’s really nice.” I was fed up of talking about it. I thought she’d be excited, ask me for all the details.
    We sat there in silence for a bit and then Rosa May threw her arm round me. “I wasn’t being mean, Becky, it’s just you know what boys are like.” She pulled me down in the grass suddenly, her eyes crossed, her arms and legs flailing out in every direction. “Stay away from me!” she moaned. “I’m part of a very dangerous species called Boy.”
    I started to laugh. It was impossible to stay cross with her for long. “What are you doing? You’re crazy!”
    “Beware of Boys!” she cried, rolling on top of me and pinning me down. Her hair fell forward, covering my face. “Beware of the evil species called Boy!” She let go of one hand and began to tickle me all over. I tried to push her off but she was too strong.
    “Stop!” I gasped. “Stop! I surrender! I give up!” I was laughing so hard I thought I was going to throw up. “Please, Rosa May, please , I can’t breathe!”
    “Promise then,” she said, holding my arms so tight it hurt. “Promise you’ll never choose him over me.”
    “Okay, I promise, just get off ! It’s not funny any more! Get off me! ”
    She rolled off and we lay back in the grass, panting. Her moods could flip so quickly it was scary. I stared up at the sky; it was dazzling blue, like Mum’s puzzle, except it went on for ever.
    “Do you want to see something amazing?” said Rosa May. “I spotted it early this morning while I was waiting for you and if we’re lucky we might still be in time.”
    She pulled me up and I followed her through the grass, back to the bridge. Sometimes I thought I’d follow her anywhere. “We need to crouch down here,” she said, stopping right by the edge of the water. She shuffled forward a bit, pulling me with her, but I shrank back, pressing my toes into the ground.
    “Not too close, I don’t want to slip.” I knew she’d think I was a wimp but I couldn’t help it.
    She edged closer herself and pointed to an area of grass to her left. “Look,” she whispered, “there, hanging on that twig near the ground. Can you see?”
    I shook my head, leaning forward as far as I dared, craning my neck.
    “Right there,” she hissed, pointing again...and suddenly I could see. It was a chrysalis, so transparent I could actually make out the butterfly folded up inside.
    “It’s ready to come out,” said Rosa May. “See how it’s pulsating like that? It means any minute now the chrysalis will split open.”
    I took a tiny step forward and eased myself down onto my tummy. Rosa May did the same, lying next to me.
    “It’s a Tiger,” she said, still whispering. “Bright orange and black to warn off predators.”
    We lay in the grass by the lake, watching the chrysalis. I held up my phone, ready to take photos. Nothing happened for a while and then very, very slowly the butterfly began to emerge. The head came first, its antennae uncurling in the morning sun. There was a pause after that, just for a few moments, and then suddenly, in a rush, the body appeared, thrusting itself out of the chrysalis almost in one go. It hung, suspended in mid-air, as its spindly legs tried to make contact with the end of the chrysalis.
    I grasped hold of Rosa May’s hand. “It’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen,” I breathed. “A new life starting right before our eyes.”
    The butterfly stretched out its wings. They looked impossibly fragile and I held my breath as a tiny breeze caught it by surprise.
    “Don’t worry,” said Rosa May. “Its wings are much stronger than they look – or they will be very soon.”
    We lay there together in the grass until the butterfly took its first feeble flight. It was like watching