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  ‘Jazz and Romy, can you leave us to talk for a moment?’ Penelope asked. She turned to Bob. ‘You’re the reason I’m here, Bob,’ she said. ‘I really need to talk to you. Alone.’

  ‘I guess it’s all too late now,’ Penelope said to Bob as they sat on a bench seat outside the karate studio. She’d finally explained to Bob how her jealous feelings had built up. And actually, she felt a bit relieved to have it all out in the open. ‘I tried SO hard not to be possessive, like that time with Elsie when I was in kindergarten. I tried to tame my green-eyed monster and not say a single thing about how I was feeling. But in the end, it all came out. And it came out in the WORST way. I am so sorry.’

  Bob frowned. But at least she wasn’t glowering anymore.

  ‘The thing is, Pen,’ she said, ‘I could feel that things weren’t right, even though you didn’t say anything. I knew you were weirded out about Jazz. I reckon you should have just been honest with me instead of holding it in. Of course I’m going to make other friends. And so will you. But we could have worked things out.’ Bob paused for a moment. ‘At least when you chucked a wobbly I knew for sure what was going on in your head.’

  (Penelope grimaced when Bob said the bit about chucking a wobbly. She much preferred to describe what had happened as an ‘outburst’. But this wasn’t the time to protest, so she let it go.)

  ‘What happened to make you lose it?’ Bob asked. ‘Was it because of whatever Rita said? That’s my guess.’

  Penelope hung her head. Mostly she was glad that Bob was very good at deducing things. But sometimes she kind of wished Bob wasn’t so good at it.

  Penelope looked up and took a deep breath. The words were pointy and dangerous and hard to say. But Penelope knew she had to be HONEST, even if it was too late to save her friendship with Bob.

  ‘Rita said, “You’re a loser, Penelope Kingston. Sooner or later Bob’s going to realise that. Then you’ll be a loner again.”’

  Bob jumped up. ‘I would like to karate chop that Rita Azul right in half. That is the MEANEST thing I’ve ever heard in MY WHOLE LIFE.’

  Bob spun around, karate chopping the air. ‘Rita Azul is the real loser, Pen. She hasn’t got a nice bone in her ENTIRE body.’

  Penelope tilted her head to the side. ‘Perhaps it was mean,’ she said. ‘But maybe it was true?’ She paused (for six seconds, cat-and-dog). ‘But I just can’t believe how mean I was. To Alison. To Hazel. To Oscar. And especially to you, Bob. Maybe, in a way, I’m as bad as Rita.’

  Bob sat back down next to Penelope.

  ‘No way, Pen,’ Bob said. ‘Rita does things wrong, and then leaves things wrong. You’re nothing like that. You let things build up sometimes, and then you have a tantrum. But let me make some more guesses. Have you already contacted Alison, to say congratulations?’

  Penelope felt her eyebrows knit together. How could Bob possibly have known that?

  ‘Yeees,’ she said slowly.

  ‘And I’ll bet you’ve already figured out what you’re going to say to Oscar on Monday? And you’re probably planning something nice for that little kid who froze when she won the reading award?’

  ‘Yes and yes,’ Penelope said. ‘But Bob, how could you possibly know that?’

  ‘Because Pen, I know you. You do some things wrong. But then you try to make them right. It’s one of the things I love about you. It’s one of the things that makes me want you as my very best friend.’

  Penelope hugged herself. Her heart was so, so swollen that she thought it might POP. (Not literally, of course.)

  ‘Does that mean Jazz isn’t your new best friend?’ she asked shyly.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Bob said. ‘Sheesh, you’re a dill. You’re stuck with me, okay? And look, Jazz has her own bestie!’

  Penelope looked over to the other side of the courtyard where Bob was pointing. Jazz was walking with Romy, Bob’s stretching partner. Jazz literally came up to Romy’s armpit. One tall girl with short hair, and one short girl with long hair.

  ‘Romy and Jazz,’ Bob said, giving Penelope a friendly bump on the shoulder (it was actually quite a hard bump, but Penelope didn’t mind). ‘They’re an odd pair, right?’

  Penelope bumped Bob right back (but more gently).

  ‘Odd pairs are the best kind,’ she said, and she just couldn’t stop grinning.

  (Which is a bit like belated because it means what comes after the story …)

  Saturday, two weeks later …

  As soon as Penelope heard the knock on the door, she knew it was Marty. It was a special coded knock they’d made up together: rat-a-tat-tat, tat, tat, tat.

  Penelope jumped up from the couch where she was stringing beads.

  ‘Mum,’ she called out as she opened the door, grinning cheekily at Marty, ‘your boyfriend’s here!’

  ‘Ratbag,’ said Marty.

  Penelope had never been called a ratbag before, and felt strangely proud of being called one by Marty. Now that they’d spent some time together, she didn’t have even a tiny suspicion that Marty was a murderer. But one afternoon, she had actually gone ahead and taken Marty’s fingerprints. She did hers too, and they sat alongside one another in Penelope’s favourite sketchbook. (You can clean ink off your skin if you put a little hairspray on the area before it dries, so it wasn’t as messy as Penelope had feared.)

  Since then, she’d started a collection. So far, she had her mum’s, Harry’s, Grandpa George’s and Bob’s fingerprints, each one unique. It was, most likely, the start of another Very Interesting hobby.

  ‘Hey, I hope you don’t mind,’ Marty said, nodding to his car in the street, ‘but I’ve brought my daughter with me. She has karate in an hour, so she had some time to kill, and she’s keen to meet you all.’

  Penelope nodded and then shrugged. The nod was because she actually didn’t have much choice – she could already see the car door opening. The shrug was because she wasn’t sure she was ready to meet Marty’s daughter. Things had been going very well with Marty and her mum. Even Harry had changed his mind after he and Marty had hung out and watched a soccer match together.

  What if she didn’t like Marty’s daughter? What if Marty’s daughter didn’t like her?

  It could make things very complicated. After all, if things kept going well with Marty and her mum, this girl could end up being her stepsister.

  Penelope closed her eyes for a moment to calm herself.

  When she opened her eyes (after four seconds, cat-and-dog) there was a girl on her doorstep.

  She was small, like Penelope.

  She wore her hair in two braids that came down to her waist.

  And she had dimples on both cheeks that made her look smiley even though she wasn’t actually smiling.

  ‘Penelope!’ she said.

  ‘Jazz!’ said Penelope.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Penelope kingston is like a daughter to me. In the way of the Velveteen Rabbit, she’s come to life through love. But it’s not just my love. The extraordinary people I work with have all added their deep care for this character and her world.

  To Hilary Rogers, what a journey we’ve had. I’m so proud of what we’ve created. Shared custody here.

  To Project editor, Penelope White, who adds another dimension with all that she touches. A great combination of creativity and attention to detail.

  To Jon Davis, whose illustrations continue to delight our readers and me and give Penelope’s world such a divine glow.

  To charlotte Bodman and Joanna Anderson, for championing our girl all over the world and enabling her to speak French and czech. I’m beyond excited about Simon and Schuster, new York in 2017.

  And to my long-suffering family: marty, Jack, Billie and Hugo. Accommodating Penelope and the space she takes up in my brain isn’t easy. But the way you’ve come along for the ride is much appreciated.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Chrissie Perry is the author of over thirty books for children and young adults, including thi
rteen books in the popular Go Girl series and the award-winning Whisper. She lives in St Kilda with her husband, three children (who are stubbornly refusing to stay young) and an opinionated Maltese Shih Tzu called Gidget.

  Like Penelope Kingston, Chrissie believes it’s great to aim for excellence. But she has a sneaking suspicion that going with the flow every now and again can also work out just fine.

  To Jack Dylan Perry. The first.

  The Green-eyed Monster

  published in 2017 by

  Hardie Grant Egmont

  Ground Floor, Building 1, 658 Church Street

  Richmond, Victoria 3121, Australia

  www.hardiegrantegmont.com.au

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers and copyright holders.

  A CiP record for this title is available from the National Library of Australia.

  eISBN: 9781743584835

  Text copyright © 2017 Chrissie Perry

  Illustrations copyright © 2017 Hardie Grant Egmont

  Series design copyright © 2017 Hardie Grant Egmont

  Series design by Elissa Webb

  Illustrations by Jon Davis

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