Lemonade Jones and the Great School Fete Read online

  Also by Davina Bell & Karen Blair

  Lemonade Jones (2018)

  Also by Davina Bell

  (with Jane Godwin, illustrated by Freya Blackwood)

  Birthday Baby (2018)

  Hattie Helps Out (2016)

  Also by Karen Blair

  (written by Kirsty Murray)

  When Billy Was a Dog (2019)

  Puddle Hunters (2018)

  Lemonade Jones had her hand up so high, it felt as if she could tickle the clouds. It was not very long until the school fete, and today was the special planning assembly.

  So far, they had decided that there was going to be a Haunted House. There would be face painting so you could look like an extinct animal. There would be a giant rainbow blow-up slide that you could go down in a sack.

  Now Lemonade Jones’s hand was up because Principal Cheese had just asked if anybody’s mum could be the lead singer of the Year One Mum Band. The band would be the final act on stage before the school fete closed.

  ‘No rehearsals necessary,’ said Principal Cheese. ‘They can just show up on the day and have a quick run-through. I’ll send home a note.’

  The Mum Band already had a drummer (Penny Milkbar’s mum) and a guitar player (Marcus Crackle’s mum) and someone to play the keyboard (the mum of Acorn Bellpepper). But everyone knew that the lead singer was the best part.

  ‘Lemonade Jones,’ said Principal Cheese, ‘is your mum the singing star we’ve been looking for?’

  ‘She is not a singing star yet,’ said Lemonade Jones, who had never actually heard her mum sing anything. It was always Dad who sang ‘Baa Baa Black Sheep’ and ‘Twinkle Twinkle’ to Baby Walter. ‘But after this concert she will be.’

  ‘I like your positive attitude,’ said Principal Cheese. ‘She’s in. And that’s the Year One Mum Band sorted. Now, does anyone’s dad know how to make flower crowns?’

  Lemonade Jones was hardly listening. She was already filling up with dreams about Mum being the star of the show. Perhaps Mum would invite Lemonade Jones up on stage at the end of their performance. Lemonade Jones would wear her sneakers with the lights that flashed. She would do a dance that she had been practising called The Pony Punk Funk.

  But when Mum picked Lemonade Jones up from school and Lemonade Jones gave her the note, she did not seem pleased. ‘I never sing,’ she said crossly as they walked home. ‘And there’s a reason for that.’

  ‘You always say I should try new things,’ said Lemonade Jones. ‘Like kale chips.’

  ‘Singing on stage is not the same as eating kale chips,’ said Mum.

  ‘It is MUCH more exciting,’ said Lemonade Jones. ‘And remember, the school fete is to raise money for the new library.’

  Mum sighed. ‘I’ll discuss this with your father later.’

  Later was dinnertime. Dad thought the Mum Band was a great idea. ‘It’s all about helping the community,’ he said. Dad knew lots about helping the community because he was a firefighter. ‘And the kids need a new library. I’ll be there too, so I can take care of Walter. I’ve organised for some of the gang from the Fire Station to have the fire truck at the fete for some safety demonstrations.’

  ‘Cool,’ said Lemonade Jones, who enjoyed safety demonstrations about what to do when loud and exciting things happened. ‘But this time, don’t let Marcus Crackle near the hose.’

  Everyone went quiet, remembering when Marcus Crackle had snuck onto the fire truck at the Fire Station Open Day. He had sprayed the hose right into the cage of the fire station’s pet parrot. That was the day that lots of the kids had learned that all living things will die someday.

  Mum sighed. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘I’ll do it.’

  ‘Yessss!’ said Lemonade Jones. ‘May I please be excused from the table? I need to go and practise The Pony Punk Funk.’

  ‘Lemonade Jones,’ said Dad gently, ‘I think the band is just for mums. I don’t think you will be doing The Pony Punk Funk at the fete.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Lemonade Jones. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really,’ said Dad. ‘But we can stand right up the front together to watch.’

  The day of the fete was hot and bright. It felt special to be coming to school on a Saturday. A whole year of pocket money jingled in Lemonade Jones’s pockets. There were ropes of little coloured flags all over the playground.

  There were tents for the face painter and the fairy-floss machine and Leela Blue’s Guess-the-Number-of-Paper-Clips-in-the-Jar stall. The canteen had been made into the Haunted House. The baby farm animals by the front office stank, but Clark Dark’s dad’s donut van smelled wonderful. The fire truck was parked on the oval, right behind the stage.

  ‘Hello, Mr Dark,’ called Lemonade Jones. ‘Don’t forget to come and watch the Year One Mum Band at sunset.’

  ‘Wouldn’t miss it,’ said Mr Dark. ‘I’ll be there.’

  Everyone in the whole school had a special job at the fete. Acorn Bellpepper was helping Miss Wisby with the tickets for the spinning teacups. Sam Feathers was squirting tomato sauce onto the sausages in bread. Clark Dark was helping with the lucky dip.

  Lemonade Jones was supposed to help Miss Magic, the face painter. Mum dropped her off at Miss Magic’s special tent.

  ‘You could paint a panda-corn,’ Lemonade Jones suggested when the first kid arrived and sat down in the face-painting chair. ‘That’s a panda crossed with a unicorn.’

  ‘That’s not an extinct animal,’ said Miss Magic. ‘Remember, that’s our theme this year.’

  ‘I haven’t seen a panda-corn,’ said Lemonade Jones. ‘So they must be extinct.’

  ‘An extinct animal is one that used to be alive,’ said Miss Magic. ‘Like a woolly mammoth.’

  ‘Like my goldfish, Sweet Suzanne,’ said Lemonade Jones. ‘She’s dead, so you could paint someone’s face like her. Or my grandpa. He is also dead. But he was very old, so don’t feel bad,’ she added.

  ‘I don’t want to be a dead person,’ said the kid in the chair with a wobble in his voice.

  Miss Magic took a deep breath, in and out. ‘You’ve been a great help, Lemonade Jones,’ she said. ‘But maybe it’s time you went off to explore the rest of the fete. Is your mum nearby?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Lemonade Jones. ‘I will go and find her. And don’t forget to come and see her in the Year One Mum Band. It’s at sunset. You won’t want to miss it.’

  Dad was at the fire truck giving Baby Walter a snack while the other firefighters demonstrated the correct way to exit a burning building.

  ‘Where’s Mum?’ asked Lemonade Jones.

  ‘She’s rehearsing with the band,’ said Dad. ‘Then I think she’s going to have some quiet time in the mindful colouring tent. Best not to disturb her.’

  ‘Do you need a hand?’ asked Lemonade Jones. ‘I was so good at my job that I’m already finished.’

  ‘No thanks,’ said Dad, spooning some mashed banana into Baby Walter’s mouth. ‘You can go and explore.’

  ‘By myself?’ said Lemonade Jones, who had never been allowed to explore alone before.

  ‘Just stay out of mischief,’ said Dad. ‘Would you like some money?’

  ‘No thanks,’ said Lemonade Jones. ‘I brought my own. See you at sunset.’

  As she skipped away, her tummy rumbled so loudly that a dog with bows in its fur got a fright and ran under the lucky-dip table. Clark Dark had to coax it out again.

  Lemonade Jones realised that she needed a second lunch. She remembered the donut van and skipped all the way there. This year she could even read the sign with the prices.

  ‘Five for two dollars, please, Mr Dark.’

  ‘Su
re thing, sweetheart,’ said Mr Dark. ‘I’ll throw in an extra couple of donuts for my son’s future wife.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Lemonade Jones, taking the hot paper bag in two hands. She ate a donut while she queued up to have her hair sprayed with rainbow stripes. She ate two more while she tried to count the number of paper clips in Leela Blue’s jar.

  ‘Infinity,’ she told Leela Blue.

  ‘That is not a number,’ said Leela Blue.

  ‘It is all the numbers,’ said Lemonade Jones. ‘Don’t forget to come see my mum in the Year One Mum Band. At sunset.’

  Lemonade Jones told everyone there was to tell. And while she was doing that, she saw everything there was to see. She ate another donut while she lined up for the giant squiggly slide, which she went down four times. It made her very sweaty. The day was getting hotter and hotter. The line for the drinking fountain went forever.

  At 3C’s bake sale, there was a type of sweet treat called a Unicorn Poo, which was a giant rainbow meringue in a swirly pile. Lemonade Jones got two for the price of one because they had already started to melt in the sun.

  She had to eat them very quickly before they became puddles of goop. She won a sugar-free toffee apple in 4K’s lucky dip. It was hard to hold it in one hand and the donuts in the other. So Lemonade Jones ate the toffee apple as she lined up for the lucky dip, where she pulled out a troll doll. And she finished the last three donuts as she and Clark Dark watched 6D’s dog show. There were dogs with lots of ribbons and bows, and dogs that could jump through hula hoops, but her favourite part was the sausage dog race.

  There were also tasty tiny hot dogs for sale. They were the tastiest tiny hot dogs that Lemonade Jones had ever eaten.

  ‘I have tried every single snack at this fete,’ Lemonade Jones told Clark Dark proudly.

  ‘What about the custard boogers?’ said Clark Dark.

  ‘Oh,’ said Lemonade Jones, ‘I haven’t tried those.’

  ‘They’re delicious. I’ll buy you one,’ said Clark Dark.

  ‘Because we’re getting married?’ said Lemonade Jones.

  ‘No,’ said Clark Dark. ‘Because you’re my friend. Just don’t spew, okay?’

  ‘I never spew,’ said Lemonade Jones.

  The custard boogers were actually tiny vanilla slices, and they really were delicious. Right next to the stand was the Haunted House, and that’s where Lemonade Jones went next. Thankfully, it was cool in there. It was also very dark, but through the shadows, Lemonade Jones could see a zombie picking his nose. ‘I know that’s you, Marcus Crackle,’ Lemonade Jones said in a voice that she hoped sounded brave.

  ‘Put your hand in this,’ said the zombie in a creepy voice, holding out a bucket.

  Whatever was in the bucket was damp, squishy and … wriggly. Like a huge pile of wet fingers.

  ‘That’s dead cats’ tongues,’ said the zombie, who was definitely Marcus Crackle. ‘And they’re trying to escape and lick your face.’

  Suddenly Lemonade Jones didn’t feel well at all. She skipped the rows of dead bodies. She ran out past the dancing ghost puppets and into the hot playground.

  ‘Last call for the spinning teacups,’ Miss Wisby cried.

  ‘Wait for me!’ said Lemonade Jones, who hadn’t had the chance to ride them yet.

  As Lemonade Jones spun round and round, a hot wind started to blow. The sun went behind the clouds, and everything went grey and spooky. The donuts and the Unicorn Poos and the tiny hot dogs and the toffee apple and the custard boogers all spun together in Lemonade Jones’s stomach. It felt as if the whole world was twirling.

  That was just the moment when Principal Cheese’s voice came over the microphone.

  ‘To finish our Great School Fete with a bang, please all now come to the stage to welcome … the Year One Mum Band!’

  As Lemonade Jones jumped out of her teacup, people ran from all directions towards the stage. ‘You’re going to miss the Mum Band,’ she called as she ran past Marcus Crackle, who was going the opposite way to everyone else. I bet these are all the people I told about the band, Lemonade Jones thought proudly as she pushed her way through the big, hot, sweaty bunch of people.

  Lemonade Jones reached the front of the stage just as the mums started to play the introduction to their first song. Dad was waiting for her with Baby Walter, who was wearing some very special headphones to protect his tiny ears from all the noise.

  But Mum didn’t sing the first line of the first song. Or the next line. She didn’t sing any lines.

  She just stood there, holding the microphone.

  It was like she was frozen, still as a snowman, staring out at the crowd. The way her lips were moving with no sound coming out reminded Lemonade Jones of her goldfish, Sweet Suzanne. Mum seemed so small up there under the lights. Behind the stage, storm clouds rolled in.

  Lemonade Jones knew that the Year One Mum Band was just for mums. But this was an emergency.

  She ran up the stairs to the stage and galloped across in time to the music. Her sneakers flashed through the twilight as lightning flashed in the sky.

  But when she reached the middle of the stage, her head felt very hot. The lights were very bright. Her tummy was doing flips. Oh no.

  She gazed up at Mum, who looked very frightened. Then Lemonade Jones took a deep breath. She closed her eyes. And when she opened them again, she did the best Pony Punk Funk of her entire life.

  Just as Lemonade Jones was finishing her curtsy, POW!

  From behind the stage came a sound like a mini explosion. Water started to spray. Lots of water. Like someone had snuck around the fire truck while the firefighters were busy packing up their Stop, Drop and Roll display and turned on the giant hose.

  Under the lights, the droplets twinkled in the air light fireflies. As they fell on the crowd, everybody cheered, happy to be cool again.

  The mums began playing their next song and everyone started to dance. And the dance they were dancing was The Pony Punk Funk.

  They were dancing so hard that nobody saw Lemonade Jones turn around and be sick in her toffee apple bag.

  They didn’t notice Marcus Crackle’s dad running through the crowd to fetch his son. They didn’t see Mum scoop Lemonade Jones up in one arm and carry her on her hip, like a baby koala.

  Lightning flashed.

  Thunder rumbled.

  It started to rain in big ploppy drops.

  Everyone cheered again as the mums ran off the stage to keep their instruments dry. Their big, happy roar was louder than an ocean. Then they kept right on dancing, as if they never wanted to stop. Principal Cheese rushed backstage and put on some jazzy music over the loudspeaker.

  ‘Thank you,’ Mum whispered in Lemonade Jones’s ear as she held her tight in the soft, cool rain. ‘You saved the day.’

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t ask you first,’ Lemonade Jones whispered back. ‘About the singing, I mean. It’s not always easy to be the star.’

  Mum smiled. ‘You do a pretty good job, Lemonade Jones.’

  Lemonade Jones smiled back. ‘Yeah,’ she said, as The Pony Punk Funk continued behind her. ‘Yeah, I guess I do.’

  To Karen and Alice, my favourite mother-daughter combo (aside from Lemonade Jones and Mum). Thanks and love for the joy and inspiration you bring! DB

  For Alice. May you always be fiercely brave on a stage.

  Thank you for being my inspiration, best cheerleader and donut artist. KB

  First published by Allen & Unwin in 2019

  Text copyright © Davina Bell 2019

  Illustrations copyright © Karen Blair 2019

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or ten per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any education
al institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to the Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.

  Allen & Unwin

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  Crows Nest NSW 2065

  Australia

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  ISBN 978 1 92526 674 0

  eISBN 978 1 76087 209 0

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  www.allenandunwin.com/resources/for-teachers

  Cover and internal design by Sandra Nobes

  Colour reproduction by Splitting Image, Clayton, Victoria

  www.davinabell.com

  www.karenblair.com.au

 

 

  Davina Bell, Lemonade Jones and the Great School Fete

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