Free Izzy's River by Holly Webb

of the jewelled sponge, the girls had made enough to cover the cost of the skip, but they were still short of the money for the bin bags. But that Friday afternoon, Izzy’s dad met her out of school with a huge grin on his face. He was waving a newspaper.
    “What is it?” Izzy asked, smiling back even though she didn’t know why – she couldn’t help it, he looked so pleased.
    “This newspaper article! You’ve solved your bin-bag problem.”
    Izzy frowned. “The paper! Did they put it in? Show me!”
    Her dad held out the paper. It wasn’t the front page, but it was still a big piece, with a photo of the girls holding up Maya and Anna’s lovely cake, and explaining that they hadn’t yet raised enough moneyto fund the clean-up. There was a photo of the river too, looking a total mess, and Poppy had even managed to get a picture of Billy looking mournful, and holding up his paw (it was actually the wrong one, but no one would ever know). The paper promised that there would be photos of the restored riverside too, if the clean-up went ahead.
    “The supermarket rang me – the manager saw the article this morning, and he wants to donate the bin bags to the cause.”
    “It’s us!” Poppy came running up, looking at the photo.
    “They should rename that paper the
Park Road Girls News
,” a boy from their class said as he walked past. Poppy aimed a half-hearted kick at him.
    “We’ve got bin bags!” Izzy squawked, grabbing Poppy and swinging her round. Then they collapsed into giggles. It sounded such a silly thing to be celebrating.
    At last Poppy let go of her. “I’d better go, I can see Mum waving. See you tomorrow! About ten, OK?”
    Izzy nodded. The girls were all meeting up at Poppy’s house to go and look at the river bank, and make their last plans for the clean-up. She was really looking forward to it.

    “Wow,” Maya murmured, staring around her. She looked a little daunted.
    Izzy nodded, and swallowed. “I was worrying this morning that there might not be enough rubbish to fill a skip, and all these people were going to turn up next weekend, and there’d be hardly anything for them to do…”
    Emily shook her head. “Ummm, not so much.”
    “It’s good, really,” Poppy said, trying to sound positive. “It means it definitely needs doing. Think how good it will be when it’s all tidied up.”
    “I know.” Izzy stared around. “But somehow it looks a lot worse than when we last saw it. I don’t remember the bridge being so covered in graffiti before, either.”
    “It’s the rain,” Poppy agreed, huddling further into her waterproof and peering out at the drizzle. “It makes everything look worse. Horrible, isn’t it? I hope it isn’t like this next weekend, that would make it really miserable.”
    “Uuurrrgh, don’t.” Emily shivered. “It’s supposed to be summer but I’m freezing.” Then she jumped as lightning flashed across the dark grey sky over the water. “Oh, no, I hate thunderstorms,” she wailed.
    “And it’s going to tip it down any minute.” Maya looked up at the clouds. “Eeek, that was close,” she added, as the thunder cracked and growled all round them. “I was going to say let’s go back to yours, Poppy, but isn’t there anywhere nearer? We’re going to get soaked.” Fat raindrops were already falling heavily, splashing into the river and pitting the water with little dimples.
    “What about under the bridge?” Izzy asked. The rain was getting heavier and heavier, and she didn’t fancy legging it back to Poppy’s house in this. “Look, there’s even a bit of wall sticking out where we can sit down.” She led the way along the bank to the bridge, and they huddled underneath, sitting on part of the brickwork that jutted out like a narrow bench.
    “It’s quite cosy under here,” Maya said, pushing back her hood. “No rain’s getting in at all.”
    “And I’ve just found a packet of mints in my coat pocket,” Poppy said happily,