Mim and the Baffling Bully (The Travelling Bookshop, #1): CBCA Notable Book 2022

By Katrina Nannestad and Cheryl Orsini

The right book might just change your life ...

Mim Cohen roams the world in a travelling bookshop, with her dad and brother and a horse called Flossy. Flossy leads them where she will, to the place where they're needed most ... the place where the perfect book will find its way home.

Now Mim has arrived in a pretty Dutch village where she meets Willemina, a kind and gentle child, who is being bullied by a girl named Gerda.

Mim knows they're here to help Willemina. To change her life. To make her strong and brave and happy.

If only Dad would find her the right book. If only he would stop giving everyone else the wrong book!

From the beloved author of The Girl, the Dog and the Writer in Rome and We Are Wolves comes an enchanting series for young readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers Australia
• Release date: Aug 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781460713662

Katrina Nannestad

Katrina Nannestad is a multi-award-winning Australian author. Her books include the CBCA-shortlisted We Are Wolves, The Girl Who Brought Mischief, The Travelling Bookshop series, The Girl, the Dog and the Writer series, the Olive of Groves series, the Red Dirt Diaries series, the Lottie Perkins series, and the historical novels Rabbit, Soldier, Angel, Thief, Waiting for the Storks and Silver Linings. Katrina grew up in country New South Wales in a neighbourhood stuffed full of happy children. Her adult years have been spent raising boys, teaching, daydreaming and pursuing her love of stories. Katrina celebrates family, friendship and belonging in her writing. She also loves creating stories that bring joy or hope to other people's lives. Katrina now lives on a hillside in central Victoria with her husband, a silly whippet called Olive and a mob of kangaroos. www.katrinanannestad.com

Book preview

Dedication

For Mum and Dad,

with love

Contents

Dedication

Chapter 1:Books and bumps and bare bottoms

Chapter 2:Termites, tea cosies and three-legged sheep

Chapter 3:Waffles and worms

Chapter 4:Collectors of all sorts

Chapter 5:Pirates and bullies

Chapter 6:An unusual picnic

Chapter 7:Pink things good and bad

Chapter 8:The wrong book

Chapter 9:The right books and a strange way of paying

Chapter 10:A list of loveliness and a little bit of icky

Chapter 11:Café of cakes and bitterness

Chapter 12:A short, soggy walk with big ideas

Chapter 13:The wrong book again

Chapter 14:The emperor’s bare bottom

Chapter 15:Flossy waddles and looming gloom

Chapter 16:How not to win friends

Chapter 17:Sludge and grubs and double trouble

Chapter 18:The right book after all

Chapter 19:Pink flashing fairy lights

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Also by Katrina Nannestad

Copyright

CHAPTER 1

Books and bumps and bare bottoms

I’m Mim. I’m ten years old and small for my age. My full name is Miriam-Rose Cohen, but I prefer Mim. I have long, wavy hair the colour of chocolate. Not the stuff with nuts or raisins or crispy toffee bits. That would be weird. My hair is just the colour of plain dark chocolate. My eyes are big and brown, and I have a red bump in the middle of my forehead.

The bump is new. Brand new. A book has just fallen on my head and startled me awake.

‘Ouch!’

I rub my forehead, but I don’t cry. I don’t even say, ‘Ouch!’ again. Because I’m used to books falling on my head. It’s bound to happen when you sleep in a bookshop. Especially a travelling bookshop. And especially, especially when the travelling bookshop is an old wooden caravan pulled by a horse called Flossy who sometimes strays off the edge of the road.

The caravan lurches and sways, and three more books fall from their shelves. Dust puffs out from their pages and fills the air.

I sneeze — ‘Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!’ — once for each book.

A hatch in the ceiling flies open and Dad’s head pokes through. Dad is Zedekiah Cohen. He’s handsome with dark, wavy hair the colour of chocolate. Just like mine, but shorter.

‘You’re awake!’ shouts Dad. ‘About time. Breakfast’s ready. We’ve been waiting for you.’

‘We?’ I ask. ‘Dad! You haven’t got Nat up there?’

Nat’s my little brother. He’s six and has hair that sticks up around his head like a chocolate halo. He’s cute and chubby. But not so chubby that he’d bounce if he fell off the roof and onto the road.

‘Yes! Nat’s here!’ says Dad. ‘And Coco.’

‘But Coco’s a cockatoo,’ I explain. ‘She can fly. Nat can’t. What if he falls?’

‘Nat’s fine!’ Dad grins. ‘I nailed his pants to the roof.’ He stretches out his hand. ‘Come on up and join us.’

I climb the bookshelf and lunge for Dad’s hand. My legs dangle in the air as Dad pulls me up through the hatch and onto the roof.

Coco lands on my shoulder. She bobs up and down and squawks, ‘Hello, gorgeous! Hello, gorgeous!’

‘Hi, Mim!’ Nat waves and smiles from where he sits. ‘Daddy nailed my pyjama pants to the shingles!’

Nat has a red crayon in his hand. The roof around him is covered in O’s.

Nat loves letters. Not all letters. Just one at a time. At the moment, he’s in love with the letter O. He’s obsessed with the letter O.

‘Wow!’ I shout. But I’m not talking about Nat’s pants or the sea of red O’s he’s drawn. I’m talking about the tulips.

The world is full of tulips. Bright, blooming tulips. Red, crimson, yellow, pink and white, as far as I can see.

‘Tulips!’ I squeal. ‘And a windmill! No, three!’ I turn to Dad. ‘We’re in the Netherlands!’

Dad laughs. ‘Seems so! Flossy plodded across the border overnight.’

I lean forward and look down at our horse. She’s a Clydesdale, a chestnut giant with white socks and hooves the size of dinner plates.

‘Morning, Flossy!’ I sing.

Flossy swishes her tail, tosses her head and plods on. Once she’s decided where to take us, nothing will stop her. Not borders or rivers or mountain ranges. Not even an ocean will stand in her way.

‘Daddy,’ says Nat, ‘are you going to nail Mim’s pants to the roof?’

‘No way!’ I shout. ‘I mean, no thanks. I’ll be safe enough if I sit here in the middle of the picnic blanket.’

Dad pours three cups of tea and holds out a plate piled high with cupcakes.

‘Cupcakes for breakfast?’ I ask. ‘Shouldn’t we have some cereal or yoghurt first?’

‘I hate yoghurt,’ says Nat. ‘It tastes like slime.’ He chomps into a cupcake, and hundreds and thousands stick to his nose.

‘Cupcakes make us happy,’ says Dad. ‘And being happy is healthy.’

I giggle. Dad’s good at making sense of all sorts of silliness.

I take a cupcake, but Coco leans in and nibbles at the icing before I can get it to my mouth.

‘I love picnics,’ says Dad, smiling into the distance. ‘Do you remember that time we went boating on the river with Ratty and Mole?’

‘I’ve never been in a boat with a rat!’ shouts Nat.

‘That was a book we read,’ I say. ‘The Wind in the Willows.’

‘But we went boating in our imaginations,’ says Dad.

‘Yes, but it’s not the same thing,’ I point out.

‘Isn’t it?’ Dad stares at me. ‘Are you sure about that, Mim?’

I think about it. I’m not sure. The line between books and real life is not as clear as most people suppose.

At that moment, the road curves and I spot a happy huddle of red roofs. A village!

Flossy sees it too. She blows air through her velvety lips and breaks into a trot.

The caravan sways from side to side, and our rooftop picnic begins to jiggle and bounce. Cups rattle in their saucers. Tea sloshes from the teapot. A cupcake tumbles across the blanket and falls to the road below.

Coco digs in her claws. ‘Awk!’