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tastes like tears.”

“Wow, I’d love to hear… I mean, taste that!” said Cecilia.

“I’m sure you will. She sings down at El Porto Fino. Perhaps, you’ll go there one day.” Just then, a heavily bearded bear-face in a grungy T-shirt with the arms cut off, stepped out in front of them.

“Can I help you?” he said in a gruff voice.

Cecilia was struck by the taste of honeydew melon when he spoke, and the flavour rolled around her mouth like a sticky, sweet afternoon in summer.

“Actually, yes. Can you point us in the direction of the marsh-cellos?” said Kuffi politely. Cecilia was surprised: this was one of the first people they had encountered that Kuffi didn’t know.

“Head along this aisle here and hang a left at the acorn-dions. Look out along the way—it’s quite narrow along there.”

He wasn’t wrong. The aisle seemed to narrow towards the end so Kuffi had to crouch right down to make sure he didn’t hit any of the instruments. At the end of the aisle they turned left and it opened out onto a squirrel-faced girl playing the acorn-dion. Cecilia was disgusted, she wanted to spit: it tasted like earwax, bitter and sharp.

“Quick,” said Kuffi. “Let’s move along.”

The squirrel-face was in her element, swaying from side to side as she played. Cecilia and Kuffi passed her discreetly to get to where the aisle opened out a bit, then he turned and tapped Cecilia on the shoulder and said, “Tag, you’re it!” and sped off towards the end of the aisle in front of them.

Cecilia ran after him as a voice zinging with honeydew melon called out, “Oi! No running! This isn’t a toyshop!”

They got to the end and Kuffi stood before the wall of marsh-cellos, licking his lips.

“Which one shall we try first?” he said.

“That one,” said Cecilia, pointing to a lilac marsh-cello mounted on the wall.

Kuffi took it down, pulled out its spike and rested it on the ground. Then he got something that looked like a tin can and ran it down the front of the strings towards the floor. The sweetest flavours tingled all about Cecilia’s tongue: a mixture of Parma Violets and pink marshmallows.

“Such sweet music!” she cried out.

“You’re getting it!” said Kuffi as he continued to play. “Grab one, Cecilia, have a go. It’s delightful!”

Cecilia turned around and behind her she found a drum-like instrument with a funny-looking bubble on top.

“Yes! Perfect, that bubble-drum will do nicely!”

“What do I do, Kuffi?”

“See if you can work it out for yourself, little thing.”

Cecilia examined the bubble-drum and noticed it had a pipe on the side so she blew into it.

“There you go.”

A subtle strawberry bubblegum flavour mixed with the marsh-cello flavours, and it all came together in what could only be described as a soft, gooey rhubarb-and-custard flavour. She wasn’t sure how it worked and she didn’t care—it was delicious! They played for a while and then Kuffi felt they had maybe overstayed their welcome a bit when the bear-faced guy with the gruff voice that tasted like honeydew started looming over them. But as they put the instruments back and made to leave, he called to them and said, “Nice jam, guys. Rhubarb and custard… sweet.” He was nodding his head in appreciation. “Yeah, man, you guys stop in again sometime!”

“Thanks!” said Kuffi, who was beaming now.

“The name’s Bear, by the way,” he said, extending a shaggy hand.

“Bear? That’s it? Just Bear…” said Cecilia.

Kuffi nudged her.

“This is Cecilia and I am Kuffi. Lovely to meet you, Bear, but we’d best be off.”

With that Cecilia and Kuffi stepped out of the shop, flavours hanging in the air behind them.

“Not so fast,” a voice came from behind them. “ID papers, please, Mr Kuffi.”

Kuffi’s face dropped and Cecilia grabbed his furry hand.

8Finders Keepers

“I hope you’ve had your licence renewed since we last had the pleasure of bumping into you.” It was Julius; Cecilia knew by his sarcastic tone of voice. Marvin followed closely behind him.

Kuffi remained very still and said slowly, “We are just on our way to the office now, as a matter of fact. Don’t worry, Cecilia, we still have plenty of time before the office closes.”

“Do you know, Kuffi? I think Marv and I just had to close the ID Office down. Some sort of leak apparently. Couldn’t be helped.” Julius brought the sharp end of his beak up to Cecilia’s nose. “And who, pray tell, is your little friend here? And even more importantly, does it have ID papers?”

“My name is Cecilia,” she said boldly.

Julius picked at her clothes with his beak, giving her a once over. Kuffi pulled her behind him out of harm’s way, and Julius pulled her back as he continued speaking. “Funny looking thing, isn’t it, Marv?” he said. “Where did you find that scruffy little creature?”

Out of the dark beyond the shop came a loud grunt. Julius and Marvin turned abruptly. “Who’s there?” shouted Marvin.

Kuffi shoved Cecilia into the shadows and whispered, “Run. Go on, run back to the juice station!”

Cecilia turned on her heels and ran back towards the orange line. She didn’t dare look behind her, she just kept running. She travelled quite some way before she got back to the juice station and when she did, it was closed. She leant against the pump, panting, trying to steady herself. She hoped Rosie might come out but she didn’t, so Cecilia slumped down behind the pump, out of sight. The lights from the juice station were very low; Rosie must’ve shut up shop.

As she caught her breath she could hear the scuffling of feet on the other side of the pump. She turned and propped herself up, one hand on her knee and the other resting on the pump for support.

“You lost something?” the voice asked.

It sounded familiar, and unexpectedly a furry hand was offered. Cecilia took it warily, straightening up to find herself looking into the face of the young stag-face boy, Luke.

“Thank you,” she said, wiping the dampness from her

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