Mumnesia (3 page)

‘Since what?’

‘Since you dyed it the first time,’
she says quickly.

I shake my head, still struggling to take it all
in. I can’t believe just yesterday I was twelve years old,
totally flat-chested, praying for my spots to clear up, and now .
. . well, now I’ve got boobs at least, and the spots are
gone – but there are big bags under my eyes, wrinkles
everywhere, and – ugh! – saggy skin beneath my chin.
I prod it – and it wobbles!
Gross!

‘This is so freaky,’ I squeal.
‘Like that movie –
Freaky Friday
!’

‘Yeah.’ The girl nods. ‘Except
unlike Lindsay Lohan, I haven’t changed too, thank
goodness!’

‘Who?’ I ask.

‘Lindsay Lohan,’ she repeats.
‘The daughter.’

‘You mean Jodie Foster!’

‘Who?’ She frowns, twirling a strand
of hair around her finger – just like I do – and
suddenly I can’t help but smile. She’s my future
daughter
. How incredible is that? It’s even more
unbelievable than travelling through time!

‘So, like, what’s your name?’ I
ask shyly. It seems like a crazy question to ask my own daughter,
but . . . ‘Wait!’ I snap my fingers.
‘Lucy?’

She stares at me. Then nods. Then her eyes
narrow. ‘Is this all fake, Mum?’

‘No!’ I insist. ‘I
promise!’

‘Then how would you know—’

‘It’s my favourite girl’s
name,’ I explain. ‘Ever since I read
The Lion, the
Witch and the Wardrobe
.’

Lucy smiles nervously and sits down on the bed.
‘That’s my favourite book.’

‘Me too!’ I cry, plonking myself down
next to her. ‘And, please, call me Shazza. Mum sounds so
old
!’

‘
Shazza?
’ she splutters.

I nod. ‘That’s what my friends call
me. I
hate
the name Sharon!’

‘OK . . . Pleased to meet you . . .
Shazza.’ Lucy smiles shyly.

‘Pleased to meet you too, Lucy.’ I
beam.

‘I can’t believe we’re
both twelve!’ Shazza cries, grabbing my hands excitedly.
‘
That’s so weird!
’

‘This is
all
uber-weird!’ I cry, staring at
her as she jumps up to peer at the mirror again, as if gazing at
a stranger. But it’s also pretty cool. I mean
time
travel
? Wow!

‘Hey, look at my ears – they’re
pierced
!’ Shazza squeals. ‘Rad! Wonder when
that happened. I’ve been begging Ma for
ages
but she
always says I’m too young.’

‘Tell me about it,’ I mutter.

‘Yours won’t let you either?’

‘Uh,
you
won’t, no.’

She blinks. ‘Right. Me.’ She frowns.
‘Future-me.’

‘But
you’d
let me, wouldn’t
you?’ I say quickly.

‘What?’

A slow smile spreads across my face. ‘
You’d
let me get my ears pierced, right, Shazza?’ I am
overwhelmed by the geniusness of my plan – now I’ll
definitely know if she’s putting on an act!

She looks conflicted for a moment and I’m almost sure
I’ve called her bluff . . . but then she shrugs. ‘Why
not?’

‘
Why not?
’ I stare at her.
‘Seriously?’ I’m torn between being
uber-thrilled and uber-freaked out.

‘Come on!’ She grabs my hand. ‘Let’s
do it!’

OK, so freaked out beats thrilled. By a landslide. Especially
when she asks me to fetch a needle and two ice cubes and says we
should go into the bathroom ‘in case it gets
messy’.

Messy how . . . ?

‘Relax!’ Shazza laughs as I
perch on the side of the cold bathtub. ‘Stop shaking
– I don’t want to stab you in the face!’

Funnily enough, this does not help me relax. ‘Um, have
you done this before?’ I ask nervously as she squeezes my
earlobe between the ice cubes.

‘Yep. Just last night actually.’

‘
Last night?
’

‘I mean – well, decades ago, I guess!’ She
giggles. ‘I pierced my friend Kelly’s ears. Well,
ear.’

‘She only had one done? Is that an eighties
thing?’

‘Well, no, she was going to have both, but she fainted
after the first one. Lame.’

‘She
fainted
?’ I gasp.

‘Kelly always freaks out at the sight of
blood.’

My stomach lurches. ‘
Blood?
’

‘It was the same in biology when we dissected
hearts,’ Shazza says, squinting with concentration as she
lifts the needle to my very-cold-but-nowhere-near-numb-yet
earlobe. ‘Now, just hold still—’

‘Wait!’ I cry, jumping up out of her reach.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘I . . . er . . .’ I search desperately for an
excuse.

‘Have you changed your mind?’ she asks, the needle
still glinting in her hand.

‘I . . .’
Hang on
– is that her
plan
? Is she trying to scare me off getting my ears
pierced? Is she really still Mum?
Who’s
bluffing
who
here . . . ?

‘It’ll only take a minute!’ She smiles
encouragingly.

‘Is that the time? I’ve gotta go!’ I’m
not taking any chances where needles are involved!

‘Go where?’ She frowns.

‘Duh! School!’

‘
School?!
’ Shazza grabs my arm. ‘No,
no, no! You can’t
leave
me! Take the day
off!’

#JawDrop. ‘You mean . . .
skip school
?’

‘Yes!’ she cries. ‘Say you’re ill!
Stay home!
Please
, Lucy!’

‘Wow.’ I sink on to the toilet lid, dizzy with
shock, all my doubts instantly skittering out the window.
‘Mum – the old Mum – would never in a
million years
let me bunk off. My school had to send
me
home when I had chickenpox!’ I look up.
‘You’re really not her, are you?’

She shakes her head. ‘Not yet!’

‘But . . .
how did this happen
?’

‘I’ve no idea!’ Shazza shrugs.

‘I mean, do you have a . . . a
time machine
or
something?’ I ask.

‘No.’

‘And how did you end up in Mum’s middle-aged
body?’

‘I don’t know!’ Shazza insists. ‘All I
know is, yesterday I was twelve years old in 1985, and now
I’m here, like this! I wish I knew how. I wish I knew
why.’

#LightBulb! ‘
That’s it!
’ I cry,
jumping up. ‘It’s my
wish
!’

‘What?’

‘Last night I
wished
that Mum – Old Mum
– knew what it was like to be twelve for a day, and now
you’re here: twelve-year-old Mum!’

Shazza stares at me. ‘You
wished
me
here?’

‘I know it sounds crazy, but—’

‘No – it all makes sense!’ She beams,
hugging me tight. ‘Wow . . . so
that’s
why I
travelled through time! That’s totally AMAZING! Plus, if
I’m only here because of you, and I’m only here for
ONE DAY, you’re
definitely
skipping
school!’

‘Deal!’ I laugh. And for once I’m actually
glad Kimmy has sports practice on Monday mornings instead of
walking to school with me; this would take a
lot
of
explaining!

We hurry into the lounge and Shazza bounces on the sofa as I
ring the school then pass her the phone.

‘Oh
hello
!’ she trills as the secretary
answers, and I have to bury my face in a cushion to muffle my
giggles. ‘I just wanted to let you know my daughter
can’t come to school today. Lucy Miller.’

‘Andrews!’ I hiss urgently. ‘Lucy
Andrews
!’

‘I mean Andrews! Sorry! Miller’s my maiden
name,’ Shazza says quickly, then covers the mouthpiece, her
eyes sparkling. ‘Andrews? Really?’ she whispers.
‘Who did I
marry
?’

‘Shh!’ I hiss, pointing at the phone.

‘Sorry, what? Oh, she’s ill. No, nothing
infectious, just um . . .’ Shazza hesitates.
‘She’s got . . .’

‘Flu! Tonsillitis! Food poisoning! Anything!’ I
mouth, but she still looks stumped! Exasperated, I flap my arms
to mime ‘flew’.

‘The doctors think it’s . . . um . . .
chicken—’ Shazza begins.

‘
Flu!
’ I hiss. The school knows I had
chickenpox last year – and you can’t have it twice!
Plus it’ll look well suss when I go back to school
tomorrow, pox-free.

‘Flu.’ Shazza finishes, giving me a thumbs-up.
‘That’s right. Chicken flu. No, I’d never heard
of it before either.’

I roll my eyes.
Chicken flu?

‘Is it like what? Bird flu?’ Shazza looks at me
blankly. I shake my head wildly. OMG, she’ll start a mass
panic!

‘No, no, it’s more like normal flu – but you
get it from eating chicken,’ she says triumphantly.
‘You know, like salmonella.’

#Facepalm

‘Gotta go – bye!’ Shazza hangs up
quickly.

‘
Chicken flu?!
’ I exclaim, throwing my
cushion at her.

‘I’m sorry!’ she wails. ‘I thought you
were pretending to be a chicken! But more importantly, if
I’m
MRS ANDREWS, then
who
is MR
ANDREWS?’ She bounces up and down, hugging the cushion.
‘Holy guacamole, this is going to save so much heartache!
Now I won’t have to waste my time dating loads of losers
cos I know it won’t work out!’

I bite my lip. Should I tell her that it doesn’t exactly
work out with Dad either? But she looks so happy, and she’s
only here for one day . . . Why burst her bubble?

‘Of course, dating is totally fun, so I might go out
with other boys anyway!’ Shazza continues.

‘
What?
’ I cry. ‘You’re
dating
?’

‘Of course!’ She laughs.

Unbelievable. Yet
I’m
not allowed?
#Hypocrite!

‘But Trev is by far the coolest guy I’ve
dated.’ Shazza beams. ‘We’ve been going out for
three weeks now. I sneak out my bedroom window to meet him when
Ma and Pa think I’m doing my homework.’

‘You do not!’ I gasp.

‘Do so. Out the window, down the apple tree. Easy peasy,
lemon squeezy.’

OMG, I am going to have SO much ammo against Mum when she
changes back!

‘But I guess it doesn’t work out.’ Shazza
slumps back on the sofa. ‘Trev’s surname’s
Lawrence, not Andrews.’

‘Yeah, and Dad’s called Daniel.’

‘Daniel Andrews . . . ?’ Shazza’s eyes
widen. ‘Wait,
Danny
Andrews?’

I shrug.

‘Holy guacamole!’ Shazza squeals. ‘It
can’t be the same Danny Andrews – that’s just
too
bizarro
!’

‘Um . . . why?’

‘Detective Dan’s a friend at school!’

Detective Dan?

‘Show me a picture! Quick!’ She jumps up. ‘I
need to know if it’s the same guy!’

‘Um, we’ve got digital cameras these days so we
don’t really print photos much—’

‘What about the magic photo frame by your
bed?’

‘Er, there aren’t any pictures of Dad on
it,’ I fib.

‘Come on, there must at least be a wedding album or
something
!’ Shazza begs, pulling me to my feet.
‘Show me, show me,
show me
!’

I hesitate. But what harm can it do? ‘I think
there’s one on top of Mum’s wardrobe –
I’ll get it.’

But Shazza is already racing down the corridor whooping.

#UhOh

‘I can’t believe I’m
going to see my wedding photos!’ I cry, bouncing up and
down on Sharon’s enormous bed as Lucy stands on a chair,
rummaging through the stuff on top of the wardrobe. ‘This
is so exciting!’

‘Look at you!’ Lucy laughs as she
opens a box. ‘You
never
let me jump on my
bed!’

‘Really? But it’s, like, majorly fun!
Oh my giddy aunt,
is that it
?’ I squeal as she pulls
out a big white book. ‘Lucy, IS THAT MY WEDDING
ALBUM?’

‘Yes,’ she says, smiling.

‘HOLY GUACAMOLE!’ I take it from her
carefully and sit down with it on my lap. I trace my fingers over
the flowers and bells and silver swirly writing on the creamy
cover, and I tingle with excitement. And nerves.

‘What’s wrong?’ Lucy asks,
flopping down beside me.

‘Suddenly everything my science teacher
said about not travelling within your own space–time
thingummyjiggy is ringing in my ears!’ I wail.
‘Should I really do this? It’s going to have, like,
major spoilers, and once I see them I can’t ever
un
see them . . .’

Lucy laughs. ‘Shazza, the space–time
thingummyjiggy is already pretty busted. You’re in your
future house with your future daughter and you know who your
future husband is. I really don’t think looking at a few
wedding photos is going to make any difference, do
you?’

She’s totally right. I take a deep breath,
my stomach fluttering with a million butterflies as I slowly open
the cover . . .

‘Holy guacamole, I look like a
princess!’ I gasp, gazing at the beautiful puffy dress, the
long lacy train and my enormous smile. I look so happy and so
much younger than now – I had hardly any wrinkles.
‘Did I get married in a castle too?’

‘Um, no, I think it was a registry
office?’

My heart plummets. ‘Really?’

‘But it was really beautifully decorated
– look!’ Lucy turns the pages quickly, but I stop her
when she reaches a picture of the groom.

‘Oh my giddy, giddy aunt, it
IS
Danny!’ I peer closer. ‘But what happened to his
mullet?’

‘
What?
’ Lucy shrieks. ‘I
can’t even
imagine
Dad with long hair!’

‘I can’t wait to see what he looks
like now!’ I grin, closing the album and hugging it
excitedly. ‘Where is he anyway? At work?’

Lucy nods slowly, a strange look flickering
across her face.

‘So he’ll be back around, like,
five-ish? Six-ish?’

‘Actually . . .’ Lucy says slowly,
‘he’s away. On a business trip.’

‘Wow!’ I cry. ‘How exciting!
What does he do? Wait, is he a detective? He always
dreamed
of being a detective!’