Key Stage: KS2 E; Age 10+
Lexile Measure: 870L
198 x 130mm
Kelly McKain worked as a copywriter in an advertising agency and as a primary school teacher before becoming a full time writer. She is now the author of over thirty books for children and teens, including several bestsellers.
Visit www.kellymckain.co.uk to find out more.
“Abbie, love, have you got the things we need for Mrs. Smith?” said Mum. “It’s a full body massage and facial.”
“I know. Just sorting it,” I replied.
I hurried over to one of our treatment rooms, a pot of Blueberry Burst Fresh Face Mask in one hand (my very own secret recipe), and a bottle of Uplifting Rose & Geranium Oil in the other. I folded some towels neatly on the couch and arranged the products on top of them. Then I lit the oil burner to fill the air with the scents of jasmine and ylang-ylang and put on some relaxing music, ready for our client, who was due any minute.
Looking around, I could still hardly believe we’d made all this happen. Every single bit of our Rainbow Beauty parlour was absolutely gorgeous. I loved the squishy purple velvet sofas and old gold-painted reception desk, with its vase of pink roses. The marble smoothie bar with its retro stools was so cool, and the chiller counter looked delicious, with little tubs of face mask arranged amongst the fresh blueberries, mangoes, passion fruits, pears, lemons and strawberries. I loved the glass shelves too, with all our natural, handmade products displayed on them like magic potions, waiting for you to pick the perfect one to cheer you up, or calm you down, or make you feel like you could take on the world and make it your own.
We had quite a few bookings. I guessed that, as it was July, lots of people wanted to get themselves looking their best before going on holiday. The bell over the door jangled as Mrs. Smith came in. Mum smoothed down her pink uniform and welcomed her, smiling warmly.
My sisters were on hand too – Grace took Mrs. Smith’s jacket while Saff asked if she’d like one of our fresh juices or smoothies. She chose an immune-boosting green one from the menu (it included spinach and stinging nettles, but tasted really yummy – yes, honestly!). I made it for her, then Mum led her into the gorgeous oasis of the treatment room.
An hour later she emerged, walking on air, and saying how much she’d enjoyed it. She ended up staying for a manicure with Saff and when that was finished, she bought a bag of Lavender Bath Bombs and a pot of Carrot & Calendula Hand Balm to take home. I smiled as I put them into one of our cute recycled bags for her, which we’d decorated ourselves with little rainbow stamps. Grace worked out her bill and she paid by cheque (we weren’t set up for card payments as yet) and then Saff helped her into her jacket.
We all said a cheerful goodbye and once she’d gone, we looked at each other and…
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!” we shrieked, so loud I’m surprised the glass shelves didn’t shatter.
“She loved it, didn’t she?” cried Grace.
“She went with the nail colour I suggested and said it looked really good,” beamed Saff.
“She bought the last one of my hand balms too,” I cried. “Summer’s mum was right when she said they’d sell like hot cakes. I’ll have to make a new batch.”
“OMG, this is amazing!” squealed Saff. “I still can’t believe we’re really running this place!”
Then we got into a huddle and started leaping up and down, going, “Whoo-hoo!”
Mum raised her eyebrows. “We’ve been open a week now,” she said. “Are you going to be like this after every single booking?” She was beaming too though, and she let us pull her into our bouncy, dancy hug.
We were still jumping round reception when the bell above the door jangled and Summer walked in, wearing a yellow checked sundress and flip-flops. I’d missed her over the last few days. We’d only met a couple of months ago when I’d started at school down here, but we were already used to giggling our way through lessons together, and hanging out on the field with Marco and Ben all lunchtime.
“Hi!” she said brightly.
“Hiya,” I said, giving her a big hug.
Mum, Grace and Saff all said hi too and Mum asked how her camping trip had been.
“Oh, you know, field, tent, torrential rain, the usual,” said Summer cheerily. “You all look really happy. Is business booming then?”
“Not too bad actually, for a Saturday,” said Mum. “We had lots of bookings right after our launch at the town fayre, but we do need to get some more in the diary for the next fortnight, especially during the week.”
“Mum, seeing as that was your last client, do you think maybe Summer and I could have a treatment?”
“Go on then, you deserve it,” said Mum.
“Thanks, Kim,” said Summer.
“Not that you need a beauty treatment,” I grumbled, as we went over to the chiller counter to pick out a fresh face mask each. Summer had peachy perfect skin, beautiful long eyelashes and thick glossy dark curls. She never bothered with make-up and only ever wore a slick of my orange flavour lip balm on her pouty lips.
“Yeah, right, like you’re not the Blonde Bombshell Babe of Year 9!” she cried. “Well, Year 10 when we go back in September. The one who changed Marco from a super-player to Boyfriend Material.”
I couldn’t help grinning at that. The Marco bit, I mean. From the moment we met on my first day at school here in Totnes, when he pulled me out of the rain, there’d been this spark between us. And last Saturday, after the grand opening of Rainbow Beauty, I’d finally got to kiss him. But as for the rest of what she said…yeah, right! At best, I’m okay-looking, if I wear loads of eye make-up. Otherwise, with my pale skin and lashes and almost white-blonde hair, it honestly looks like I don’t have a head. I told Summer that and she rolled her eyes. “Oh, Abs, don’t start with the headless thing again!” she groaned.
“I’m just saying, I need a bit more help than you in the beauty department,” I insisted. “Especially as Marco’s back tomorrow… I don’t want him to see me and think I look way worse than he remembered. Right…” I scanned the fresh face masks. “Reviving seaweed and honey should do the trick, I think.”
Summer went for a moisturizing one with oats and bananas, then we headed into one of the treatment rooms and got all the stuff out for a full-on pampering session. As well as the face masks, we were planning a luxury body treatment. Basically, you cover yourself in layers of hydrating gel, a blend of oils including scrummy rose and geranium, and delicious shea butter, and when you take it off, your skin is as soft as the proverbial baby’s bottom.
Summer and I got undressed to our bras and knickers and Saff helped us smooth it all on and get wrapped up in the cling-film stuff you put on top to help it all soak in. Then we put on our fresh face masks, and lay down top to toe on the treatment couch. Saff put some cucumber on our eyes, told us to “Just relax for twenty-five minutes” in her newly-invented calming beautician voice, and left the room.
Obviously we didn’t relax for even one minute. We spent the first few sitting up and laughing at how silly we both looked, and then at least another five having a play fight about who had the most couch and trying to make each other fall off the edge. Then, as you’ve probably guessed, we spent the rest talking about Marco.
“So, lover boy is back tomorrow,” said Summer, propping herself up on her elbows and lifting off the cucumber so she could wiggle her eyebrows up and down at me in a Whoo-hoo! kind of way. I took mine off too, so I could watch her doing it.
“Yeah. Looking tall, dark and handsome…and probably tanned and more gorgeous than ever.” Just talking about him made me feel all yummy and romantic. I’d been expecting to see him last Sunday, the day after THE KISS, but his mum had sprung a surprise holiday on him – a last-minute deal to Italy she got on the internet – so I hadn’t seen him since.
Summer rolled her eyes. “If you say so,” she sighed. She seemed to be the only girl at our school who didn’t fancy Marco. I guess they’d been friends for so long that he was more like an annoying brother to her. When I’d met up with her last Sunday and told her about THE KISS, she’d been a bit funny about it at first. I didn’t blame her. Marco’s record with girls was awful (seven-broken-hearts-in-eighteen-months kind of awful). And there was also the fact that, last thing she knew (after the disastrous cafe date incident), I’d told him there was absolutely definitely no chance that anything was going to happen between us ever again. Like, never.
Still, when I’d told her about how much he’d put himself on the line for me, and mentioned the amazingness of THE KISS, even Summer had softened a tiny bit. But I knew it would take a lot more than that to convince her that Marco wasn’t going to let me down again. Still, now he was my actual boyfriend (whoopee!), perhaps she’d come round. I lay back and reapplied my cucumber slices.
“Well, I hope he asks you out now, that’s all I can say,” she grumbled.
I sat bolt upright so fast my cucumber slices fell off. “Oh, I kind of thought we were going out, you know, after THE KISS,” I told her. “That’s what a kiss means, doesn’t it?” Doesn’t it? Maybe it didn’t. I suddenly felt naïve and stupid.
“Hey, chill out!” said Summer. “Maybe it does. And if not, I bet he’ll ask you out tomorrow.” She grinned cheekily at me. “Or you could ask him.”
“Well, perhaps I will!” I said. “But we’re probably already going out, so what if I don’t need to? Oh, but then what if I think, We are so I don’t need to, but in fact we’re not so I do need to? And what if—”
Summer giggled. “Abbie! You should have just rung him last week if this is how you’ve been!”
“I haven’t been able to ring him!” I wailed. “Mum would never let me call Italy on her pay-as-you-go. Money’s still really, really tight and she doesn’t let us tie up the line in case people want to leave messages about appointments on the answerphone.”
“Alright, point taken!” said Summer.
“Anyway, what would I say?” I asked her. “Oh, hi, Marco, I’m just ringing to check whether we are in fact going out?”
Summer giggled at that. “Yeah, not cool, I get it. Hey, will you do my toes as well?”
“If you do mine,” I said. Even though we felt like mummies in the cling-film stuff, we managed to wiggle ourselves upright enough so we could get those toe divider things onto our feet. Then we chose some polish from Saff’s colour wheel and started painting each other’s nails. “It would be a lot easier if we could just get boys to fill in a form or something,” I said, going back to the theme of Who knows what they’re thinking?
Summer smiled. “What, like, just as they lean in for the kiss you whip out a clipboard and start asking questions?”
“Yeah! Why not?” I cried. “Question one: are we going out or not? Question two: if you think so, and if I agree that we are, are you going to be keen for two weeks and then go all mumbly and shuffly until eventually I get so annoyed I dump you, which saves you the hassle of dumping me?”
Summer giggled. “Yeah. Or question three: are you going to be fine with me on our own but as soon as your mates are there play it so cool it’s as if I don’t exist, until eventually I get so annoyed I dump you – which also saves you the hassle of dumping me?”
I laughed. “All these scenarios seem to end with us getting annoyed and dumping them!”
“Sounds about right!” said Summer. “Not that I’d know. I haven’t even had a proper boyfriend. How sad is that?!”
“It’s not sad, it’s choosy!” I insisted. “Anyway, neither had I, before Marco. If he even is my boyf! But hey, I think we should sort it out. Let’s get you set up!”
I was only joking, but even Summer’s thick layer of face mask couldn’t hide how flustered she got. She started going, “Oh, er, but I, I don’t know, I mean, I wouldn’t know what to say and it would just be really awkward and what if he didn’t like me in that way, even if I thought he probably might and…”
I peered at her, my gossip radar on high alert. “Who probably might?” I asked.
“No one,” she said quickly, adjusting her cling-film stuff. “I mean, just, you know, the guy, if I fancied someone.”
I stared at her but she still wouldn’t look me in the eye. “Oh, because for a minute there it sounded like there is someone…”
“No, no one,” Summer insisted. “Well, my skin might be rehydrating but I’m dehydrating. Do you reckon we could hobble out and get some smoothies in this stuff?”
SCREEEEECH! She’d changed the subject so fast I’d got whiplash! Very suspicious! But I knew I wasn’t going to get any info by pushing her. She was so private, she’d only clam up completely. I’d just have to wait for the right moment to try and find out more about this mystery guy – if what I suspected was right, and there actually was one.
“Yeah, come on, then,” I said. “There aren’t any more clients booked in today, so no one’s going to see us.”
We swung off the couch and hobbled out of the room, with the toe divider thingies still on our feet and our arms stretched out in front of us. We caught sight of ourselves in the big mirror and giggled. We looked like mummified zombies – especially me, with my gooey green face mask. With the bananas, oats and honey mask on, Summer looked more like she’d fallen face first into her breakfast. I could hear Saff banging around in the kitchenette, and it looked like Mum and Grace had gone upstairs.
We shuffled across the reception area and stood in front of the chiller counter, choosing what to have. I loved the vivid colours of the different fresh fruits. It all looked delicious. “I’m going for a red vitality one with pear and strawberries,” I told Summer. “That’ll give my skin a boost from the inside too. I want to look my absolute best for when I see Marco tomorrow.”
“Summer?” I asked. “Which one do you want?”
Still no reply.
I looked up and saw her staring in horror out through the front window.
Ben and MARCO were heading for the door.
OMG – with bells on.
“WHAT?! I thought he wasn’t back until tomorrow!” I hissed.
“Get down!” she squealed.
We tried to dive into the space behind the chiller counter but, to our horror, there wasn’t enough room for both of us. The bell jangled above the door as the boys walked in. It was too late to make a run for it – I mean, a hobble for it.
“Summer, please let me hide!” I begged. “Marco can’t see me like this!”
“They’re not seeing me like this either!” she squealed, trying to squash behind the counter with me.
“But you don’t care what you look like in front of them, do you?” I hissed. “They’re like brothers to you.”
“Yeah, but I’ve still got some standards!” Summer shrieked.
Too late. We both shot bolt upright as two faces peered over the counter. Just looking at Marco made my stomach flip over. Looking at me was probably doing the same to his, but more in a throwing up kind of way.
“Erm, what are you doing?” asked Ben.
“Oh, we were arguing about who was going to…get the apple that rolled back here,” Summer said lamely.
Marco grinned gorgeously at me and said, “Nice look.” I blushed bright red under my green face mask. What a CRINGE! Still, at least the cling-filmy stuff was white and not actually see-through like the normal kind. I tried to be grateful for that, but it didn’t really help.
“Did you have a good time away?” I asked, trying to sound casual. Meet any nice Italian girls? I wanted to add. You know, stylish ones who don’t walk around looking like an advert for Mad Mummies Inc.
“We thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow,” Summer stammered. She was blushing as red as I was.
Marco shrugged. “I wasn’t. We were going to stay the night with Mum’s friends who live near Heathrow, but they were ill, so we came straight home.”
Summer’s cling film squeaked as she turned to Ben. “And you,” she said accusingly, “you said you were at Dartington Hall tackling birds all day.”
“Tagging birds,” Ben corrected, smirking at her. “Why have you got porridge all over your face?”
Summer tried to whack him one but he easily dodged out of the way of her stiff mummy arms.
“Well, we only stopped by to say hi on our way into town,” said Ben. “Marco’s got band practice and I’m going to play football with the lads.”
“We should go and get this stuff off,” Summer said to me.
“Yeah,” I replied. I didn’t really want to go, though. I wanted to stay with Marco and I wanted a repeat of THE KISS. But there was no chance of that happening, not in my current state.
“We could meet up tonight,” he said to me.
I got a shiver all down my cling-film-wrapped spine. “Great,” I said.
But then Saff walked out of the kitchenette. “Oh hi, guys,” she said. “Abs, we’re making a new batch of fresh face masks tonight, remember? You have to be there to supervise.”
I sighed, feeling my stomach drop into my shoes. I’d forgotten about that – the ones we had were on their use-by date. “I really do, or this lot will probably explode all over the shop,” I told Marco.
“She’s free tomorrow though,” said Saff.
“No, I’m not. We’ve got clients booked in and—”
“It’s Sunday, we’re closed,” Saff said, doing a You idiot face at me.
“Yes we are!” I yelled, then went bright red as I realized that a) I am the uncoolest girl in the universe, and b) Marco hadn’t even asked me anywhere for tomorrow.
But luckily he just grinned. “Cool. It’s a date then,” he said.
I stared at him, my mind whirring. Did he just mean that as in the phrase, or did he actually mean it was a DATE? And if it was a DATE, then did that mean we weren’t going out – because if you’re boyfriend and girlfriend already, do you still go on dates? Or did it mean we were – because if we weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend already, wouldn’t he ask me on a date rather than just saying it was going to be one?
Summer nudged my arm and I realized everyone was looking at me. “Oh, yeah, cool, see you tomorrow then,” I gabbled. “Erm, should I bring anything?” DUH! Like what? A life jacket? Cupcakes? Another classic from the queen of stupid questions.
He just smiled. “Leave it to me, I’ve got a plan.”
I couldn’t help giving him a great big green grin then.
“We’d better go,” said Ben.
Marco went to hug me, then drew back and said, “I’ll leave the hugging, you know, with the green goo and the…is that cling film?”
“Well, thanks for coming by!” trilled Summer, shooing them out of the door.
We just about managed to wait until they were down the road before we let out a massive girly scream, even Saff. “He must really like you,” she squealed.
I gave her a big smile. She could be so nice when she wanted to.
“Yeah, I mean, he still asked you out after seeing you like that,” she added. “You look absolutely awful!”
“Erm, thanks. I think,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her.
She glanced at the wall clock. “Oh, I’ve gotta go. I’m meeting Emily in town.” Emily was a friend Saff had made at the college open day. They were inseparable now and looked so alike, they could have been sisters. “You can finish up here and lock up, can’t you?” she added, grabbing her bag and tripping out of the door.
So Summer and I were left to hobble back into the treatment room and unpeel ourselves without any help.
“Oh, I wish I could see Marco tonight,” I said, still feeling the disappointment running through me. “I just want to be with him, you know?”
She gave me an intense look. “I understand,” she said, then quickly added, “I mean, I can imagine.”
“Summer,” I said, raising my eyebrows at her. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, honestly,” she insisted, not meeting my gaze. “Nada. Rien. Nichts.”
I was sure then. Something was definitely UP, capital U and capital P. You don’t say nothing in three languages unless there is something. Summer had a crush on someone, and I was going to find out who. Or should that be whom?
Either way, her secret wasn’t going to stay secret for long.
Well, the next day I woke up feeling A-Mazing and bounced out of my bed (well, the bed Mum and I had to share), and then I remembered why.
It was DATE day!
I used my Zesty Zing Shower Gel and my Lime & Ginger Sea Salt Body Scrub in the shower. My skin felt so smooth after that, and from the body mask the day before (my burning embarrassment really must have helped the oils to soak in!), so I only needed the tiniest dab of Avocado Body Butter before I could get on with choosing an outfit. Oh, and my usual ton of silver and grey eye make-up, of course (and a slick of Peppermint Kiss Lip Balm, for perfectly kissable lips. Ahem and double ahem).
The sun was already burning a hole in the sky at ten so, after spending ages staring at all my clothes, I put on my yellow tunic dress (with leggings underneath – I never get my blindingly white legs out, even in July!) and my silver ballet pumps. I was happy with my outfit, but when I went into the kitchen Saff announced that, with the yellow dress and black leggings, I looked like some kind of giant bee. Well, usually I’d have told her to get lost, but I felt so nervous already – what with it being my first proper date with Marco since we’d kissed – that she totally freaked me out. I was going to remember this day for ALL TIME, so I wanted everything to be perfect. I went and changed into about ten other outfits until I finally settled on my red T-shirt and cropped jeans, which they all agreed was really nice – phew!
Saff did my hair, to make up for the bee comment, and it looked really cool, in a kind of fifties half-up-half-down thing with little clips everywhere. Then, just as I was heading out of the door, having double- and triple-checked that I didn’t have anything on my face or clothes, (like, as if that would even matter after yesterday!) Mum gave me £10.
Of course, I gave it straight back. “We can’t afford this,” I told her.
“We can…just about. You deserve it, Abbie. I want you to go and have a nice day. We all do, don’t we?”
I thought Saff and Grace would say it was unfair, but amazingly they agreed. “Yeah, you shouldn’t have to walk past those gorgeous little shops in town and not buy even one tiny thing,” said Saff.
Grace scowled at her. “I think the point is to buy food and stuff. Abbie shouldn’t have a boy paying for her, it’s anti-feminist.”
Saff tutted. “No, it isn’t. It’s gentlemanly,” she said.
Then they started having a mature discussion about it (well, okay, shrieking and running round the kitchen table, trying to whip each other with tea towels). “Just take it. Go. Have a good time,” Mum said to me, over the chaos.
I grinned at her and put the money in my little bag. “Okay, I will. Thanks. See you later.”
Walking into town to meet Marco, I almost had to stop and hold onto lamp posts and things, my legs were shaking so much. And my heart started pounding when I saw him waiting where we’d agreed, leaning on the archy building thing that goes over the road at the top of Fore Street, in skinny black jeans and a grey T-shirt. Obviously it goes without saying that he looked amazing (but I want to say it, so…he looked amazing!). My stomach did about twelve backflips and finished off with a triple somersault.
I was torn for a while between walking up the road to actually meet him and just staying rooted to the spot, staring at him. I made myself start walking and tried to ignore the heart-pounding and leg-trembling and act normal.
“You look amazing,” we both said at once. Pause. CRINGE.
“So do you,” we both said, at the same time again. Bigger pause. Bigger CRINGE!
Marco wouldn’t tell me where we were going as we headed down South Street and onto The Grove. It just felt so cool being with him and, shallow I know, being seen with him too. I felt like a film star or something. Even better, he linked arms with me when we stepped into the road to let a buggy go by, and he didn’t let go again.
It turned out we were going to the Rocket Arts Centre, which Marco had mentioned before but I’d never been to. The band playing the lunchtime session was setting up and the place was filling with people. It had a cool, retro, fifties feel, with a long Formica countertop, chrome and red leather stools, and candy-coloured Formica tables and chairs. I tried to stop staring at everything with goggly eyes and act like I went to cool places like this to eat out, with a boy, on a date, just us two, all the time. We grabbed a couple of stools at the counter and, as one of the staff walked past us with two massive burgers, I realized how hungry I was.
We ordered burgers too (Marco insisted on paying – what would Grace say?), and they came on wooden boards, with a little bowl of fries on the side. Soon the band started up and they were pretty good, mixing songs from the last couple of years with classics like “Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay” and “Great Balls of Fire”. Marco couldn’t help singing along with loads of them. He started an air guitar routine in the middle of “Wild Thing” and when he finally looked up I did a mickey-taking impression of him.
He raised his eyebrows and said, “Right,” and grabbed my wrists, and we had a wrestly play fight that involved a lot of squealing (me) and evil laughing (him) and nearly toppling the stools completely over (both of us). Unfortunately the song ended just when I was letting out an ear-piercing shriek and everyone turned round to look at us. I went totally bright red and we had to be sensible for a bit then.
But a couple of songs later Marco started singing along again and I couldn’t resist throwing a chip at him. I squealed as he threw one back at me. “Hey, that had ketchup on!” I cried. “Lucky for you I’m wearing a red top!” I poked him in the stomach, and either he’s really ticklish or I’m stronger than I thought, because he did tip completely backwards off his stool then and everyone was staring at us again.
Including the manager. Whoops.
I know I’m really sensible normally but the way Marco sprang up from the floor and kind of looked around him, like he didn’t know what on earth had happened…well, I just could not stop laughing.
He leaned right in close to me, and I thought he was going to whisper something into my ear, but then he jogged my stool really suddenly so I almost toppled off too. I gripped the counter, but I was still laughing so much my arms were going weak.
Loads of people were looking at us by then. And the manager was coming over…
“Time to go, I think,” said Marco cheerily, pulling me off my stool and leading me to the door. I tried to catch the manager’s eye and smile Sorry, but he was too busy glaring at the mess we’d left.
We staggered out into the bright sunshine, and stumbled down the street, still killing ourselves laughing and blaming each other for nearly getting chucked out. Then, suddenly, we stopped.
And he pulled me close.
And we kissed.
I was so grateful that this time I wasn’t a) wearing bright yellow washing-up gloves, or b) covered in green face pack, that I forgot to think about which way to lean and we ended up crashing noses. But we got it sorted pretty quickly, and the kiss was out of this world, so I forgot about feeling embarrassed in the end. For a few minutes, anyway.
Until I said, “So, are we actually going out now?”
I know, I know. But it just came out of my mouth before I could stop it. “It’s just, well, I wasn’t sure because we hadn’t actually said, last Saturday, I mean,” I gabbled, “and it’s not like there’s a form to fill in just before you kiss, is there? You know, tick here if you think this means we’re going out…”
Marco was looking alarmed.
And yet, for some stupid reason, I kept on talking. “Because that would be crazy, having a form, I mean. Only some kind of insane person would think of having a form…” I trailed off lamely, wishing I could just dissolve into a little puddle on the ground and trickle into the nearest drain, never to be seen or heard of again.
Marco smiled. “Are you saying you want to be my girlfriend?”
Play it cool, Abs, I told myself. I was going to shrug and say, “Sure, whatever, if you want.” But when I opened my mouth, unfortunately what came out was “YES PLEASE!” (at about eight million decibels).
Even after that, and despite me having clearly revealed my utter looniness, he still said, “Well, I want to be your boyfriend, so I guess we are going out.”
So then we grinned at each other and sealed it with another kiss. I couldn’t believe it. For the first time ever, I had a proper boyfriend. My dream boy. Marco.
Rainbow Beauty - Strawberry Summer
It was a great book. I like the author Kelly Mckain.
Holly, 15th November 2014