In Someone Else's Skin by Margo Collins (good non fiction books to read TXT) 📕

and their mansion of a home had several kitchens and dining rooms, with a whole host of cooks and chefs and servants. If they had explorers staying with them – which they often did whenever there was an expedition being planned – then they ate breakfast in the parlour. But when it was just the two of them, they always ate in the orangery. Felix still called it the orangery, although there hadn’t been any orange trees in there for years. There was an entirely different type of thing in the glass conservatory now.

Stella opened the door, and warmth washed over her, along with the faint smell of long-gone oranges. With its glass roof and walls, the orangery was the warmest part of their home, which made it the ideal environment for pygmy dinosaurs. Some people called them fairy dinosaurs due to their minute size – even the T-Rex, Stella’s absolute favourite, was no bigger than a kitten. His name was Buster and he came rushing up to meet her the moment she stepped inside. Stella scooped him up and lightly ran a finger over his scaly head whilst he squirmed in delight, his front claws curling tightly around her thumb.

Felix had first discovered the pygmy dinosaurs during a trip to the Spice Islands of the Exotic South, and had been studying them for some time. Word of his studies had got around, and now whenever a sick or injured pygmy dinosaur turned up anywhere, Felix would be contacted and asked if he would take it in. He never turned any away, and the orangery was now home to dozens of little dinosaurs.

‘Ah, there’s the birthday girl!’ Felix called from the table in the centre of the room. ‘Come on over and have some breakfast.’

Stella was delighted to see that they were having ice cream, complete with sprinkles, fudge sticks and gooey chocolate toffee sauce. She was also thrilled that Felix had made dozens and dozens of balloon animals – all unicorns – and strung them up from the pterodactyl houses hanging from the ceiling. Every now and then, a pygmy pterodactyl would fly up to inspect one of the bright pink balloon unicorns, only to flutter away hastily, looking terribly confused.

Stella sat down with Buster on her lap, gave him a fudge stick – which he snatched from her fingers greedily – and then picked up her spoon and dug in before the ice cream could melt. Everything was going superbly until a rapid tapping on the glass wall made them turn to see Aunt Agatha stood outside, peering in at them with a grim expression on her broad face.

Stella’s heart sank. ‘I thought she wasn’t coming to pick me up until this afternoon,’ she said, giving Felix an accusing look.

‘So did I. She must have caught an earlier train,’ he replied. Then he sighed. ‘Well, there’s no use trying to hide from her now that she’s seen us, I suppose.’ He waved at her through the glass and raised his voice: ‘Come in, Agatha. The door is open.’

Stella returned her attention to her ice cream as her aunt navigated the outside of the glasshouse to the door. She came stomping in a moment later dressed in a matching purple skirt and jacket, as well as a big floppy purple hat with a feather in it. Aunt Agatha was a stout woman, and Stella thought the outfit made her look rather like a giant violet frog – definitely the kind that you shouldn’t lick, just in case it turned out to be poisonous.

‘How nice to see you, Agatha,’ Felix said politely, standing up to pull out a chair for her. ‘Would you care for some ice cream?’

‘Ice cream?’ Aunt Agatha repeated in a tone of horror. Anyone would have thought that Felix had just said: ‘Would you care for some minced squid lips?’

‘Ice cream for breakfast?’ she went on. ‘Oh, really, Felix, really.’

‘It’s Stella’s birthday,’ he replied as he sat back down in his seat.

‘Oh, yes. Happy birthday, dear,’ Aunt Agatha said, acknowledging Stella for the first time.

‘Thank you, Aunt Agatha,’ Stella replied.

Her aunt plonked herself down in a chair, clutching her handbag on her lap as if she feared someone was about to snatch it from her. She scowled at the table. ‘Felix, why on earth is there a dinosaur sitting in that cereal bowl?’

‘That’s Mildred,’ Felix said mildly. ‘She’s a diplodocus.’

The tiny dinosaur was indeed nestled in the cereal bowl at Felix’s elbow, her body partially submerged in milk and fruit loops.

‘I didn’t ask what type it was, I asked why it’s in the cereal bowl,’ Aunt Agatha said with a sigh.

‘Skin complaint,’ Felix said. ‘I’m treating her with milk and fruit loops. It’s working well so far. Are you sure I can’t interest you in some ice cream? Do have a fudge stick, at least.’

‘It can’t be hygienic for you to be eating in here,’ Aunt Agatha replied. ‘Not with these dinosaurs running amok all over the place. It’s far too warm in this room, besides.’ She took an enormous fan from her bag and began fluttering it in front of her face in an agitated manner.

Stella scraped the last of her ice cream from her bowl, and held her spoon out for Buster to lick before setting him down on the floor. Unfortunately, he charged straight over to Aunt Agatha and started worrying at her shoelaces with his teeth. Aunt Agatha let out a squeal and went to slap him with her fan, but Felix’s hand instantly shot out to prevent her.

‘Steady on,’ he said. He scooped Buster up and set him down on his lap. The T-Rex glared across the table at Aunt Agatha. He had quite a good glare. It was one of Stella’s favourite things about him.

She was about to ask if she could be excused, as she’d rather be down in the stables with her unicorn (or pretty much anywhere else, come to that) than sat here with her disapproving aunt,