Llama Out Loud!. Annabelle Sami

well be in training for the Most Annoying event at the Olympics. Not to mention Yasmin’s aunties, who always think they know best. Of course, Yasmin still loves them, but all the hubbub results in Yasmin making a very particular choice. A choice she upholds even to this day . . .

      Actually – I can’t be bothered to do a flashback yet. Let’s just get to the story, hey? I’m sure you’ll find out what you need to know soon enough.

      So where were we . . .? Oh yes. (Cue dramatic music.)

      Life as Yasmin had known it, for a whole nine years and 363 days, was about to change.

       Forever.

      Yasmin was staring at the ugliest toy llama she had ever seen. It was in the £2.99 bargain bucket in Old Spitalfields market, with one dodgy eye that bulged out and wonky ears. A few tattered pieces of cloth hung around its neck as decoration. The stains all over its back legs were a worrying brown colour. Even £2.99 seemed way too expensive to Yasmin. You would have to pay HER to take the thing home.

      And yet she couldn’t stop staring at it. It was one of those situations where something is just so disgusting that you have to look – like a squished snail on the garden path (and Yasmin had been guilty of quite a few snail casualties). The llama held her with its beady little glass eyes and it was starting to give her the creeps.

      Yasmin didn’t usually come to the market after school. It was a crowded, covered square filled with everything you could ever need, from tablecloths to teapots. Yasmin often thought it was worrying that most of her clothes were bought from the same stall that sold toilet brushes. Walking around, it was easy to get confused in the maze of tables and the noisy, bellowing yells of the vendors. Today, just like any other busy afternoon, it was teaming with people who swarmed like ants around the colourful stalls. Actual ants also swarmed around the back of the food tents, trying to find falling crumbs to feast on.

      It was noisy, smelly and definitely not the place that Yasmin would have chosen to spend the afternoon. But as usual, she had no choice. Even though it was her tenth birthday.

      As the chosen School Representative, Yasmin had just made her weekly visit to the local elderly daycentre as part of a community programme. (More on that later.) But instead of taking her home, Auntie Bibi had cheerily grabbed her hand and yanked her in the direction of the market.

      ‘I thought we might do some shopping, Yassy! What do you think?’ she chirped. ‘I knew you’d be pleased. You love shopping, just like your auntie!’

      Yasmin sighed and patted her auntie’s hand. She actually hated shopping. But if it would make her auntie happy, then she would grin and bear it. Yasmin was good at keeping other people happy.

      As soon as they were through the gates, Auntie Bibi made a beeline for a stall selling an array of brightly coloured scarves.

      ‘There’s the one I saw earlier!’ she chimed. ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’

      Yasmin thought the scarf looked like a giant feather duster.

      ‘You’re right. I should get more than one,’ Auntie Bibi agreed, as if Yasmin had suggested it. Yasmin always marvelled at her auntie’s ability to hold a conversation entirely by herself.

      Deciding to make the best of things, Yasmin pointed to the small arts-and-crafts stall nestled in the centre of the market. There was a big wooden box filled with high-quality colouring pencils for sale, the kind Yasmin dreamed of owning for her sketches.

      Her auntie pushed her hand aside. ‘Who wants boring pencils when you could have a pretty scarf?’ she said. ‘Come now. Doesn’t this look pretty?!’

      Whilst her auntie tried on scarves for the fifty millionth time (she couldn’t choose between the fluorescent yellow or the sicky green), Yasmin had wandered towards the arts-and-crafts stall – and come across the previously mentioned llama.

      Against her better judgment, she reached out and picked it up. It was soft and surprisingly warm, which made Yasmin feel a bit sick.

      The market trader rubbed his hands together, sensing a sale. ‘You want it, sweetheart?’

      Yasmin dropped the llama back in the box and sprayed her hands with the antibacterial gel she always carried. Her parents had told her not to talk to strangers. Especially ones selling low-end stuffed toys at unreasonable prices.

      ‘Oh, how cute!’ Auntie Bibi’s voice came ringing over Yasmin’s shoulder. ‘It reminds me of a toy donkey I had when I was a little girl. Do you want it, Yassy?’

      Yasmin shook her head vigorously. But Auntie Bibi had already taken out her purse and was handing the market trader two shiny pounds.

      ‘Wonderful! You’re going to have so much fun together.’ She plopped the toy into Yasmin’s schoolbag, already directing Yasmin towards the exit. ‘Your Auntie Bibi always gets you the best presents. Now we need to get home. Dinner is almost ready.’

      ‘It’s £2.99, love,’ the trader called after them.

      ‘You’re lucky I even gave you two pounds!’ Auntie Bibi smiled sweetly and continued walking away.

      Yasmin blinked. Within the space of what felt like a few seconds, she had managed to become the owner of what looked like a failed science experiment that she definitely did not want.

      And things were only going to get stranger.

      In terms of best days in the year, the order for most children goes:

      Third place – last day of school

      Second place – Christmas (or Eid for Yasmin)

      First place – BIRTHDAY!!

      But more often than not, what should have been the best day of the year for Yasmin was just like any other day. And, just like any other day, as Yasmin and Auntie Bibi turned the corner on to their road, they could hear yells coming from the Shah family home.

      Number 11 Fish Lane was the last to be built on the road, and had been squished in between the furthest two houses on the street. This meant that the house was extremely tall and extremely thin, with one room on each floor. If it hadn’t been sandwiched between two other houses, it would probably have toppled over in a strong breeze.

      Yasmin’s room was all the way up in the attic, while the bathroom was in the basement. The strange layout of number 11 meant that Yasmin had to walk up through every family member’s bedroom before she could get to her own. Being at the top of the house was good for privacy, but it also meant that you had to be careful after eating a spicy curry from Brick Lane. Yasmin was sure she could rival any Olympic sprinter running down those stairs in the middle of the night, desperate for the loo.

      As Yasmin and Auntie Bibi came in through the kitchen door, they were hit by a wall of sound that Auntie Bibi immediately added to.

      ‘We’re home!!!’ she sang, heading over to Ammi, who was sweating over a boiling pot of rice.

      ‘WHYAREYOULATEDINNERISREADYGOGET CHANGED!’

      Ammi