Holiday (5 page)

The next morning, Iris was dressed and choosing a ribbon for her new hairstyle when room service knocked on the door with breakfast.

The hotel waiter pushed a trolley full of food into their room and checked off their order. Iris was having scrambled eggs and sausages.

Iris’s dad had gone to pick up a hire car to drive everyone to Nan and Pa’s, while the rest of them had packed their bags, ready to check out of the hotel.

Iris got a secret, naughty thrill at the thought of leaving all the beds unmade and the towels on the bed, and she had one tiny wrapped soap tucked safely in her bag.

Iris ran up the path to her nan and pa’s house and banged on the door.

‘Nan and Pa!’ she yelled through the glass panels.

Kick thumped down the path behind her. ‘Nan!’ he bellowed, standing next to Iris on the top step. ‘Mum got you flowers!’

Iris elbowed him. ‘Don’t say that! It was meant to be a surprise!’

‘It doesn’t matter, Iris,’ her mum said, shaking her head. ‘The flowers will be just as pretty whether they’re a surprise or not.’

Then the front door opened and Iris saw her nan and pa. She loved it how they always came to the door together, as though they were so excited to see Iris and Kick that neither of them could wait in the kitchen.

‘Here you are, my little darlings!’ cried her nan, coming out onto the porch to hug them before they could even get into the house.

‘Let me look at them,’ said her pa, coming through the door. Iris and Kick both wriggled out of their nan’s hug to cuddle with their pa instead.

‘Good grief!’ he said, making an amazed face at Iris’s mum. ‘Who
are
these people? I thought you were bringing little Iris and Kick, and instead you’ve come with some beautiful young lady and this huge bruiser of a man.’

Iris laughed and rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, Pa!’

‘Oh, it
is
you, Rissy!’ he chuckled.

Iris’s dad struggled down the path with some of the bags from the car.

Her pa called out to him, ‘Christopher, my boy! I think you’ve grown, too! Come over here, son, and let me see those muscles.’

Iris giggled. It was so weird to hear her pa teasing her dad like he was still a little boy. Especially because that was exactly how her dad teased her and Kick!

‘Come on,’ said her nan. ‘The bags can wait, but my caramel slice can’t.’

‘Caramel slice!’ yelled Kick, bounding inside.

‘Yes, and coconut biscuits and sultana cake, too,’ her nan said, smiling at Iris. ‘Just something for you to nibble on while we get lunch ready.’

Iris grinned. She followed her nan down the long corridor to the kitchen, past framed photos of her and Kick as babies, and of their cousins, Lauren and Nigella, who lived in England and went to boarding school.

They reached the kitchen and their pa said, ‘You’d better sit down, kids. Nan won’t be happy until she sees you eating. The coconut biscuits are for you, Rissy.’

Iris glanced at her mum. At home, they weren’t allowed sweet things until way after lunch.

But her mum smiled and shrugged. ‘It’s a holiday,’ she said. ‘And your nan’s gone to a lot of trouble.’

Iris grinned. She didn’t need to be told twice!

‘So what are you going to do while you’re here?’ Iris’s pa asked them.

‘
I’d
like to see the new display at the art gallery,’ her mum said, jumping in straight away. ‘And then I thought we could take the kids over to the war memorial.’

Kick snorted. ‘Bo-
ring
! Can I stay here with Pa and watch telly instead?’

Iris glared at him.

‘Kick!’ said her mum, sounding impatient with him at last. ‘We haven’t decided what we’re doing yet, but whatever it is, you’re coming with us. We’ll have a good time.’

‘Oh, please? Pretty please? I’ll be good,’ he said, looking pleadingly at their dad instead.

Iris watched them all exchanging looks over Kick’s head. Iris knew that Kick was about to get his own way again.

‘Well …’ said her mum.

‘Ah, he’ll be terrific,’ said her pa. ‘We’ll watch the game on TV and he can help with dinner.’

‘Yesss!’ Kick cheered.

‘Why don’t you kids get the rest of the bags out of the car while Mum and I talk to Nan and Pa for a minute?’ their dad said, throwing Iris the keys. ‘You know where your bedroom is.’

Iris snatched the keys out of the air and strode down the corridor, not caring if Kick was keeping up with her or not. She carefully and quietly opened the front door, but then stomped grumpily down the path to the car.

Kick came and stood beside her as she opened the boot and started hauling the bags out.

‘Don’t give me Dad’s bag,’ he said. ‘It’s way too heavy. I’ll take Mum’s and mine.’

‘Anything else?’ Iris said crossly.

‘What’s
your
problem?’ Kick said.

‘You!’ she hissed. ‘You’re selfish, and bratty, and acting like the whole holiday is about you getting everything you want –
that’s
what!’

Kick shrugged. ‘Whatever,
Rissy
.’

‘Don’t!’ she growled. ‘That’s Pa’s name for me. No-one else’s.’

‘OK, Rissy,’ he laughed. ‘Sorry, Rissy. I won’t do it again, Rissy. I didn’t realise you were the boss of me, Rissy.’

‘I’m warning you, Drop-Kick,’ she said, pointing her finger at him.

‘Oooh, like I’m
so
scared, Rissy!’

With a little scream of frustration, Iris jumped over the bags at her feet and punched her brother in the shoulder. ‘You brat!’

Kick fell backwards over the edge of the gutter and sat down hard on the nature strip. ‘Ow!’ he yelled, clutching his leg. ‘Look what you’ve done!’

‘You’re not hurt,’ said Iris, narrowing her eyes. ‘You’re just noisy and sooky and a pain in the bum!’

‘What’s going on here?’ said a cross voice behind her. Iris looked up to see her mum, dad, nan and pa all standing by the garden gate, staring at her with surprise and disappointment.

‘Iris! What have you done?’ their mum said as she knelt down beside Kick.

Iris threw herself down on the bed in her nan and pa’s spare room. She was sharing the room with Kick, but he was smart enough to stay out of her way for now.

She couldn’t remember ever being so angry. It was just so completely unfair. Kick had been a pain the whole trip, but now
she
was the one getting in trouble.

All they care about is their precious Kick
, Iris thought bitterly.
Like he’s a helpless little
baby, when he’s actually just a giant brat!

Iris could hear Kick out in the kitchen, acting extra charming and funny and saying
please
and
thank you very much
about a million times a minute.

As if Nan and Pa haven’t already figured out
who the good kid is
, she thought grumpily. She rolled over towards the wall.
I might as
well not even be here.

Then she felt her bed sag as someone walked in and sat on the end of it. She ignored whoever it was.

‘Iris?’ It was her mum.

Iris lay still and pretended not to hear.

‘Iris, come on. I want to talk to you.’

Iris rolled over very slowly and sat up without looking properly at her mum.

‘Kick’s laying it on a bit thick out there,’ her mum whispered. ‘I think he’s trying to make up for his appalling manners earlier.’