Mum recognized that voice at once. She didn’t need to turn around to know that it was her friend, Ramona. Instantly, she legged it in the opposite direction. If Ramona realized that it was definitely her, then Mum knew she’d never hear the end of it. And she’d never live it down! Minutes later, she was well hidden behind the broad trunk of an old oak tree. Panting for breath, she risked a quick peek out from behind the trunk. She immediately ducked back again. Ramona and her grey poodle were heading in her direction, and they were getting closer and closer. Mum looked around frantically. The bushes by the pond – they were her only hope! She ran for them, trying to use the tree trunks to keep her out of Ramona’s sight. Finally she made it, squatting down behind the bushes, hardly daring to breathe. A duck waddled up onto the narrow bank beside Mum and, fixing her with a ‘that’s my spot!’ stare, quacked and quacked.
‘Shush!’ Mum begged the duck.
‘Isn’t that bizarre, Gertie?’ Mum heard Ramona say to her poodle. ‘I could’ve sworn I saw Gina . . . But it couldn’t have been. I mean, what would she be doing in the park in her dressing gown. It must’ve been someone else.’
‘Woo-oo-oof!’ Gertie replied.
‘Let’s get you home and I’ll treat you to a delicious snack,’ Ramona said, picking up her tiny dog.
Relieved, Mum watched as Ramona walked away, Gertie in her arms. At last things were starting to go right. Mum tried to stand up but there was something suspiciously slippery under her feet. Arms spinning like a windmill, she tried to steady herself, but it was no good. SPLASH! Mum fell into the duck pond and found herself sitting up to her waist in scummy water. The ducks around her swam away, quacking indignantly. And as for Mum – her face was a picture, but not a pretty one!
Chapter Six
The Quarrel
BEN HELPED STEVE to pull his heavy bag past his knees to stop him floating up in the classroom.
‘The strap is really cutting into my legs,’ Steve grumbled.
‘It’s this or float out of the window,’ Ben told him.
‘This is all your fault, Ben. How am I meant to go home like this?’
‘My fault?’ Ben stared. ‘I like that!’
‘Well, I’m glad one of us does,’ Steve said bitterly.
‘Don’t start arguing, you two,’ Whizziwig said from inside Ben’s bag. ‘Steve, I’ve been thinking, and this will cheer you up. How would you like to go for a fly around after school?’
‘I can’t fly. I just float – remember?’ said Steve. He was still darting angry glances in Ben’s direction.
‘Yes, but how about if I attach a string to your hand and, as long as I don’t let you go, you can fly around with me. Believe me, you’ll see a lot of the world that way.’ Whizziwig smiled.
‘Well . . . I don’t know . . .’ Steve was obviously tempted.
Ben looked from Whizziwig to Steve and back again. ‘But, Whizziwig, suppose you let go of the string? How would we ever get him down? No. He’s not going to do it. It’s too dangerous.’
‘Ben, you’re not my boss,’ Steve said furiously. ‘OK, Whizziwig! We’ll go flying tonight after I’ve had my tea – all right?’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ said Ben.
‘Who’re you calling stupid? I’ve had just about enough of you, Ben Sinclair.’
‘OK, Tinkerbell! Keep your hair on!’ Ben sniffed.
‘Oh dear!’ Whizziwig sighed, wondering what she’d started.
Mr Archer entered the room.
‘You just wait,’ Steve hissed.
‘For what? For you to grow a brain? I won’t live that long,’ Ben hissed back.
‘OK, everyone. Settle down,’ Mr Archer called out.
Steve and Ben pulled their chairs away from each other and turned so that they were facing in opposite directions.
‘Me and my big mouth!’ Whizziwig muttered.
Mr Archer started talking about shapes and angles, and still Ben and Steve wouldn’t talk to each other. Until, at last, Ben couldn’t stand it any longer.
‘I can’t believe you’d risk floating off into space just to spite me,’ Ben hissed.
‘It’s not to spite you. The whole world doesn’t revolve around you, you know.’
‘Look, you—’ Ben turned, angry.
‘Steve, could you come up here and fill in one of these missing angles please?’ called out Mr Archer.
‘Sir?’
‘Up here – missing angles – fill in please,’ Mr Archer drawled.
Steve stared helplessly at his teacher. Ben stared helplessly at Steve. If he budged a centimetre off the chair without his bag, he would float off and then what would Mr Archer say?
‘Sometime before I draw my pension would be nice,’ Mr Archer said with sarcasm.
‘I can’t, sir.’
‘Why not?’
‘I can’t move. My legs – my whole body—’ Steve stammered.
‘I’ll do it, sir,’ Ben volunteered.
‘I asked Steve, not you.’ Mr Archer frowned. ‘And why the sudden enthusiasm? Usually I have to practically drag you up here! Now come on, Steve. I haven’t got all day.’
Ben stared at the questions on the board. He was going to have to work fast.
‘Sir, the first angle is forty-five degrees, the second one is ninety and the third one is sixty.’ Ben called out.
‘Ben!’ Mr Archer was astounded – and he wasn’t the only one. Everyone in the class was staring at him! ‘As you’re so keen, maybe you’d like more homework. I’m obviously not stretching you enough.’
‘I’m being stretched, sir – honest,’ Ben said hastily.
‘Hmmm! Well, your answers are absolutely right, so well done – but don’t call them out like that in future,’ said Mr Archer.
‘Don’t worry. It won’t happen again!’ Ben had a headache from having to work out the answers so fast. He wasn’t going to do that again in a hurry.
‘OK, everyone. Let’s look at the first triangle.’ Mr Archer turned back to the board.
‘Thanks, Ben,’ Steve whispered.
‘You’re welcome,’ Ben replied softly.
Ben and Steve exchanged a smile and, just like that, they were friends again.
Without warning, the door flew open. Everyone looked around at once. In walked Ben’s mum in her dressing gown and slippers. And she was dripping wet.
‘Excuse me, Mr Archer,’ Mum said.
Mr Archer stared at her, stunned. Mum made her way over to Ben’s table.
‘Ben, can I have your front-door key please? I’ve locked myself out,’ she said.
Ben stood up slowly, staring at his mum as if he’d never seen her before. He fished his key out of his pocket and handed it over, never taking his eyes off her.
‘Thanks, Ben. I’ll see you later.’ Mum turned and walked back to the door. ‘Sorry to interrupt your lesson, Mr Archer.’
‘Not at all, Mrs Sinclair.’ Mr Archer was still staring.
Mum strode out of the room, shutting the door carefully behind her.
Ben sat down. All eyes were upon him.
‘OK! OK! Back to work, you lot. The excitement’s over.’ Mr Archer was the first to recover.
‘What was that all about?’ Steve whispered.
‘No idea.’ Ben shrugged. His eyes suddenly narrowed. ‘Whizziwig, this wouldn’t have anything to do with you and that wish Dad made this morning, would it?’
‘Why do I get blamed for everything?’ Whizziwig said crossly.
‘Shush!’ Ben urged. ‘And there’s no need to get your fur in a knot! I was only asking.’
As Ben straightened up, he wasn’t entirely convinced, however, that Whizziwig didn’t have a hand in Mum’s sudden appearance. Whenever something bizarre happened, she was usually behind it.
Chapter Seven
The PE Lesson
WHEN BEN AND Steve left the canteen after lunch, neither of them said a word. Ben because he thought he shouldn’t and Steve because he couldn’t. Wearing his rucksac
k all the wag through lunch had given him backache and carrying it around all the time was wearing him out. They both made their way back to the classroom, where Steve slid his bag down his back and wrapped it round his legs before he sank into his chair.
‘Almost home-time.’ Ben tried to cheer up Steve. ‘Lunch is over and done with and this afternoon shouldn’t be too bad.’
‘Why not?’
‘That theatre group is coming in for the afternoon, remember?’ said Ben. ‘And once they’ve finished, it’ll be home-time.’
The school buzzer sounded. Mr Archer was in the classroom before it had finished making a racket throughout the school. The rest of the class trooped in, chatting and laughing.
‘I have an announcement to . . . THAT’S QUITE ENOUGH NOISE PLEASE!’ Mr Archer shouted above the din. ‘Thank you. Now, as I was saying, I have an announcement to make. I’m afraid I have some bad news. The theatre group who were supposed to visit us this afternoon have had to cancel.’
The whole class groaned.
‘So we can all do some extra maths or we can have a PE lesson,’ said Mr Archer. ‘Which one is it?’
‘PE! PE!’ most of the class shouted.
‘Maths! Maths!’ yelled Steve and Ben.
Everyone else – including Mr Archer – looked at Ben and Steve as if they were seriously nutty!
‘I’m afraid you two are outvoted,’ Mr Archer said. ‘OK, everyone, gather up your things and let’s go to the changing rooms.’
‘Sir, couldn’t Steve and I stay here and do some extra maths?’ Ben pleaded.
‘We wouldn’t mind – honest,’ Steve added.
‘Well, I do. We’re all going out to get some exercise – and that means you two as well. Up and at ’em!’
Ben and Steve dragged their feet all the way to the boys’ changing rooms, but they still got there.
‘What am I going to do?’ Steve asked.
‘My mind has gone blank,’ Ben admitted. He whispered into his bag, ‘Whizziwig, I don’t suppose you have any ideas?’
‘I’m afraid my head is empty too,’ said Whizziwig.
‘I never said . . . never mind.’ Ben decided against trying to explain what he meant.
Mr Archer came into the changing rooms to usher the boys out. ‘Steve, why haven’t you got changed yet?’
‘Er . . . Mr Archer, I was thinking . . . I was thinking I might like to join the SAS when I leave school,’ Steve began.
‘Oh, yes?’ Mr Archer raised an eyebrow.
‘And they have to run for ages wearing heavy backpacks to build up their strength and their stamina and their muscles. So I was wondering if I . . .’ Steve looked at Ben. ‘I mean, if we could go running with our backpacks on?’
‘Running? I thought we could all have a game of football or rounders,’ said Mr Archer. ‘You really want to run?’
‘Yes, please. Don’t we, Ben?’
The very last thing in the world Ben wanted to do was go running with a heavy backpack on, but what could he say?
‘Yes, sir,’ Ben replied reluctantly.
‘Suit yourselves. It’s nice to see you two so enthusiastic about everything today,’ said Mr Archer. ‘Get changed and then you can get started.’
Ten minutes later, Ben and Steve were jogging round the school grounds wearing their PE kits and backpacks, watching the rest of their class play football.
‘Why did you volunteer me for this? I’d rather play football,’ Ben complained. ‘I’d rather do maths come to that.’
‘I’m not going to suffer alone,’ Steve told him.
‘Thanks.’
‘You’re welcome.’
With each step, Ben’s bag bumped up and down on his back. And the strangest noises were coming from the bag. Like ‘Ooof!’ and ‘Ouch!’ and ‘Yowwww!’
‘Ben, I ache all over,’ Whizziwig cried out. ‘How much longer do we have to do this?’
‘About another half an hour or so.’
‘Why do I have to suffer with you?’ Whizziwig grumbled.
Ben and Steve looked at each other and smiled maliciously. Whizziwig suffering with them was the silver lining to their big, dark cloud. They ran and RAN and RAN. Until not just a few drops of sweat but an entire river was running down Ben’s forehead and he was sure his heart would explode out of his chest. Not soon enough, Mr Archer called a halt to the double PE lesson and sent them all back inside to get changed.
Steve and Ben collapsed, exhausted, on the benches in the changing rooms.
‘Still want to join the SAS, Steve?’ Mr Archer smiled.
‘Not in this lifetime, sir, no,’ Steve managed to gasp out.
Chapter Eight
Worthwhile
‘I’VE NEVER BEEN so tired in my life.’
‘My fingernails ache,’ said Ben.
‘My blood aches.’
‘My hair aches.’ Ben rubbed his head. It actually did feel as if his hair was aching!
‘The air around me hurts.’ Steve sighed. ‘I won’t be sorry to get to bed tonight.’
‘You’re sure you’ll be OK? You won’t go floating off in your sleep?’
‘No.’ Steve shook his head. ‘I’ll tie the bag to my feet and tie some books around my waist. That should keep me in the bed.’
‘Never a dull moment.’ Ben whistled.
‘You said it!’
Ben and Steve walked on a bit further. Ben knew he had to pluck up the courage and say what he wanted to say now or he’d never say it at all.
‘Steve, I’m sorry I had a go at you earlier,’ Ben muttered. ‘The truth is . . . I was a bit jealous.’
‘Of what?’ Steve was more than a little surprised.
‘When Whizziwig offered you the chance to go flying with her, I think I went a bit Kermit the frog!’
‘Green!’ Steve laughed.
‘I’m sorry too, Ben.’ Whizziwig was floating alongside Ben and Steve now. ‘But I can’t take you. You’re too heavy. That’s why I never suggested it before.’
‘Yes, I know. That’s OK, Whizzy. You and Steve go flying. Just be careful, that’s all.’ Ben forced a smile. ‘And have a good time – OK?’
Ben would’ve given anything to be able to fly with them. But there was no use dwelling on it, because it wasn’t going to happen.
‘Steve, how about having dinner at my house today?’ Ben suggested. ‘You’ll be able to sit with your backpack on then. Mum and Dad are used to you acting like a weirdo, so they won’t think anything of it.’
‘Thanks!’ Steve said with indignation.
When at last they reached Ben’s home, Ben had to ring the doorbell. The front door opened and Mum disappeared in a blur into the living room. Ben was barely through the door before the smell hit him.
‘Mum?’ Ben ran straight into the living room. Mum was sitting on the sofa. ‘Mum, what’s that burning smell?’
‘That was supposed to be tonight’s dinner. It’s the chicken in the oven. Only it caught fire, so I had to put it out using the fire extinguisher!’ said Mum.
Ben frowned at Mum’s tone of voice. She sounded very calm about it! Too calm.
‘Mum, why’re you sitting in here, staring at the wall?’ asked Ben.
‘The telly blew up when I tried to turn it on.’ Mum shrugged.
‘What?’ Ben walked over to the TV and pressed the ON/OFF switch. The telly came on at once and the picture was perfect.
‘That just proves it. It’s me!’ said Mum. ‘Well, I’m not going to move from this chair until your dad comes home. He can go and get Lizzie. I’m not risking it.’
‘But, Mum, what’re we going to eat?’ Ben frowned. ‘I invited Steve round for dinner.’
Mum leaned forward to look around Ben. ‘Oh, hi, Steve. You’re welcome to stay for dinner, but I’m not cooking. I’ll order a pizza to be delivered. OK?’
‘Great! Thanks, Mrs Sinclair!’ Steve grinned.
‘Thanks, Mum.’
Dad didn’t arrive home until they’d alre
ady eaten their pizzas. Ben and Steve were out in the garden when they heard his voice.
‘Hello, darling. Why the long face?’ asked Dad.
‘Oh, Daniel!’ Mum threw herself into Dad’s arms. ‘I’ve had such a miserable day. I locked myself out of the house. I fell in a duck pond. I tried to go and pick up Lizzie and the car wouldn’t start. And then when I called someone out to look at it, it worked first time. Then the chicken in the oven blew up and the telly decided to do the same out of sympathy!’
‘Never mind, dear.’ Dad smiled and gave Mum a big kiss. ‘I’ve got a surprise for you. This will cheer you up. To make up for not being able to take the day off, I’ve arranged for Aunt Dottie to take the kids this Saturday. Then I’ll treat you to the cinema or the theatre, followed by a slap-up meal. How does that sound?’
‘Wonderful.’ Mum’s face lit up like a lighthouse. ‘Oh, Daniel!’
And Mum and Dad started kissing again.
Ben, Whizziwig and Steve were watching through the kitchen window. It was beginning to get a bit dark outside, but even if it’d been broad daylight, Ben’s mum and dad wouldn’t have noticed them. They were too busy kissing!
‘Your mum and dad are really into all that lovey-dovey stuff, aren’t they?’ said Steve.
‘I know,’ Ben said glumly. ‘I’ve begged them to stop. If they knew how embarrassing it is to watch two old people like them kissing and cuddling all the time, I’m sure they wouldn’t do it!’
‘I think it’s sweet!’ Whizziwig sighed.
Ben and Steve just looked at her.
‘You two had better get cracking if you’re going to go flying before it gets too dark,’ Ben pointed out.
Ben tied a piece of string around Whizziwig’s wrist and then around Steve’s wrist. Ben held onto the dangling end just to be on the safe side. He’d let go once Steve had got the hang of not having his feet on the ground.
Whizziwig began to rise into the air. Steve followed her up and up.
‘Whoo-oooaaa!’ Steve put out his arms to steady himself. Then he grinned. ‘This is great!’
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