Buried Alive!

by Jacqueline Wilson

  Biscuits and I rushed to the railings. He’d really dropped Dog Hog but not in the sea. There was a rotting landing stage directly below, and poor Dog Hog lay spread-eagled on it, splashed by the lapping sea.

  Biscuits didn’t hesitate. He seized the railings and swung his leg over.

  ‘Biscuits! Don’t be crazy! You can’t! It’s far too dangerous!’ I yelled.

  ‘I’ve got to get Dog Hog. I’ve had him since I was a baby. My nan knitted him.’

  ‘Then she could knit you another one, Biscuits. Oh please, don’t!’

  ‘She can’t knit another one. She’s dead now. I have to get him, Tim,’ said Biscuits, and he started climbing down determinedly.

  ‘Biscuits! You might fall! Please don’t. Wait for my dad,’ I begged.

  ‘I can’t wait,’ Biscuits gasped, and then his foot slipped on the wet railing and he was left hanging by his hands.

  ‘Biscuits!’

  Biscuits held on, got his feet back on the bar below, gave himself a second’s breather, and then started feeling for the next bar – and the next – and the next. I hung over the pier, not daring to talk to him any more in case I distracted him. He went down and down – nearly slipped again, hung on – down and down – and then he jumped for it. He was there, on the landing stage!

  It creaked ominously as he bounded onto it, as if it might break up altogether under his weight.

  ‘Oh, be careful, Biscuits!’ I whispered.

  Biscuits seized Dog Hog, held him briefly for one moment, and then stuffed him very firmly far down into his trouser pocket.

  ‘There, I’ve got him!’ said Biscuits. ‘Now all I’ve got to do is get back.’

  He looked up. He blinked.

  ‘Ah. The thing is . . . how am I going to get back?’ Biscuits said.

  ‘I’ll have to get Dad!’ I shouted.

  ‘Are you calling me, Tim?’ It was Dad, suddenly right beside me. ‘What is it? Where’s Biscuits?’

  ‘Down there!’ I said, pointing.

  ‘What?’ Dad peered. ‘Oh my goodness! Hang on, son. I’ll come down.’

  ‘No. I’ll come up,’ said Biscuits, and he spat on his palms determinedly. He seized the first bar and hauled.

  ‘That’s it!’ said Dad. ‘Now the next!’

  Biscuits continued steadily, though his face was purple with effort.

  ‘Steady now,’ Dad cried. ‘Biscuits? Are you all right? Here, I’m coming!’

  ‘No! I’m – I’m – just – out – of – puff!’ Biscuits gasped. ‘But – I’m – OK.’

  He looked down to see how far he’d got. He wavered.

  ‘Don’t look down!’ Dad shouted.

  Biscuits looked up, and started climbing again.

  ‘That’s the lad. Not too far now,’ Dad said. He looked over his shoulder. ‘Thank heavens Mum’s still with that fortune-teller. She’d go bananas if she saw Biscuits. What’s he playing at? Don’t you boys realize it’s highly dangerous?’

  ‘Yes, I realize it ever so, Dad,’ I said. ‘And so does Biscuits. But this was a serious emergency. You see these boys were being nasty to us and one of them—’

  ‘OK, OK. Don’t rabbit on about it now, Tim. Let’s just concentrate on Biscuits getting back up here all in one piece,’ said Dad, leaning right over and just about reaching Biscuits. ‘Take my hand, Biscuits.’

  Biscuits did as he was told. Dad very nearly toppled over with his weight, but just about managed to hang on. Biscuits climbed up, and Dad seized him under the armpits and hauled him back over the top of the railings.

  Biscuits lay flat on the planks, gasping like the captured fish.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Dad asked. He sat down too, and mopped his brow.

  ‘You – bet!’ Biscuits puffed.

  ‘Oh Biscuits, you were so brave!’ I said.

  ‘Yes – I was – wasn’t I?’ said Biscuits, sitting up and grinning.

  ‘You were also very very reckless and silly,’ said Dad. ‘You must never ever do that again, do you promise?’

  ‘Cross my heart and hope to die,’ said Biscuits. ‘Phew! I feel a bit peckish after all that high drama.’

  Prickle-Head had dropped most of Biscuits’s secret supply of food. Biscuits started gathering it up and consuming it rapidly.

  I didn’t feel hungry at all, even though I was ultra-empty after being sick. I still felt bowled over by Biscuits’s bravery. And cast down by my own cowardice.

  I was a totally useless scaredy-cat little squirt.

  I picked my way slowly back down the pier, plank by plank. Biscuits and Dad strode ahead, chatting man to man.

  ‘Are you feeling all right, Tim?’ said Mum, but she didn’t sound too worried.

  The fortune-teller had put her in an unusually good mood.

  ‘She says I’m going to meet someone from the past – and romance is in the air,’ said Mum, her eyes sparkling.

  ‘I hope I don’t breathe it in – I can’t stick romance,’ said Biscuits.

  Dad laughed and patted him on the back.

  They decided they wanted to go to the amusement arcade. Dad bought us all candy floss. I didn’t want mine so I gave it to Biscuits. He started playing this car chase with Dad. Mum began feeding coins into a fruit machine. She didn’t listen properly when I started telling her about Prickle-Head and Pinch-Face.

  ‘What’s his name, darling?’ Mum said vaguely – and then she laughed triumphantly. She’d won the jackpot.

  ‘Oh, never mind,’ I said huffily, and I wandered off by myself.

  I stopped at one of those crane machines full of little rubber trolls with wild pink and purple hair. My girlfriend Kelly has a troll doll called Theresa.

  I thought about Kelly. I hoped she wasn’t still mad at me for asking Biscuits on holiday instead of her. I decided to try to win her another troll as a holiday present. A friend for Theresa. Yes, she’d really like that. She really liked me. Even if I wasn’t very brave.

  I put a whole pound coin in the machine. It gave me five goes. It should be easy-peasy to get one troll. Several. Maybe even five.

  Ha! I wrestled with the handle that worked the crane but it wouldn’t go where I wanted. It missed altogether the first two goes. It caught a troll’s hair the third go and I gasped – but the troll slipped away. I missed the fourth time. My hand started to shake for the fifth and final go.

  Someone was standing behind me, watching. I hate that. The crane opened up its claws. It brushed against a couple of trolls. It knocked one so that its little rubber arm waved cheekily. But then the claws closed on nothing. The crane went up again – empty.

  ‘You’re pretty useless!’ someone said. ‘Here, you’d better let me have a go.’

  I turned round to look at this rude stranger.

  It wasn’t a stranger at all.

  It was Kelly!!!

  Chapter Four

  I COULDN’T BELIEVE it was Kelly. But there are no other girls like her. She has hair sticking straight up in the air in a top knot. When she’s excited it waggles about. She’s got little dark glinty eyes and a great big grin. She wears bright clingy clothes and posh trainers and she talks all the time. Well, I suppose there are quite a lot of girls like Kelly, but she’s the bounciest.

  ‘Kelly!’ I said.

  ‘Hi, Tim,’ she said. She grinned, the corners of her mouth almost tickling her ears. She had new earrings, white and sparkly. She twiddled them proudly.

  ‘Do you like my diamonds? My mum’s boyfriend Dave bought me them as a holiday present,’ she said.

  ‘Wow! Real diamonds!’ I said.

  ‘Well. Not real real. But they’re very good synthetic stones,’ Kelly said, tossing her head about so that they caught the light. ‘Right. Budge over, Tim. I’ll show you how to work these cranes.’

  Kelly’s mum’s boyfriend Dave had given her a whole purseful of change. She inserted a coin and started twiddling.

  She was ace.

  In a matter of minutes Theresa Troll had
a whole tribe of relations: Tracy Troll and Truman Troll and Tabitha Troll and Tyrone Troll and Tilly Troll and Trocadero Troll. Biscuits and Dad and Mum heard Kelly’s triumphant crowing as she kept capturing yet another troll. They came over to watch.

  Then Kelly’s mum and Kelly’s mum’s boyfriend Dave and Kelly’s little brother Dean and her baby brother Keanu came and watched too. It got very crowded. I’d have died if everyone was watching me. It didn’t put Kelly off a bit.

  Then all the grown-ups started talking and Kelly’s mum’s new boyfriend Dave got introduced. He had the most amazing tattoos all the way up his arms. Snakes and flowers and hearts and a lady in a bikini. He could make her waggle when he moved his muscle. He showed Biscuits and me and we thought it cooler than cool. We kept wanting him to do it, but Mum gave me a sharp nudge and told me not to keep pestering. She didn’t say much else. Kelly’s mum said lots and lots. Dad did too.

  ‘I just can’t get over the coincidence of you being here on holiday too!’ he said. ‘I mean, Llanpistyll and Abercoch are such out of the way places.’

  ‘It was our Kelly. She looked them up on the map, she did, and said she just knew Llanpistyll would be great. And so we made sure there was a caravan site – and here we are.’

  ‘Oh, you’re staying at the caravan site,’ said Mum.

  ‘Don’t tell me you are too!’ said Kelly’s mum, laughing and flipping her pony-tail.

  Kelly’s mum is ever so like Kelly. Only more glittery.

  ‘Oh no! No, we’re staying at the Gwesty Bryn Nodfa. It’s a very nice quiet family hotel,’ said Mum.

  ‘Poor you,’ said Kelly. ‘It’s ever such fun down the caravan site. We’ve got our own amusement arcade and there’s swings and all sorts.’

  ‘Yes, it’s great for the kiddies,’ said Kelly’s mum’s boyfriend Dave. ‘They can amuse themselves. And we can amuse ourselves.’

  ‘You must come over. Come now!’ Kelly said.

  ‘Can we, Mum?’ I said.

  ‘Oh no, dear. No, we’re going to look at another castle,’ Mum said quickly.

  ‘Then come for tea,’ said Kelly.

  ‘Ooh, let’s,’ said Biscuits.

  ‘No, I’m sorry, we have our evening meal at our hotel,’ said Mum.

  ‘Supper, then,’ said Kelly.

  ‘Please!’ I said.

  ‘Double please with knobs on,’ said Biscuits.

  Mum opened her mouth. It was already in a firm No shape. But guess what!

  ‘Yes,’ said Dad. ‘Yes, we’d love to.’

  ‘But we won’t have finished our meal till seven at the earliest,’ said Mum. ‘And then the boys should really be in bed by half-past seven.’

  ‘You go to bed at half-past seven?’ said Kelly. ‘I don’t go to bed till twelve sometimes, isn’t that right, Mum?’

  ‘We go to bed later than that,’ said Dean.

  ‘And this little monkey stays up all night sometimes,’ said Kelly’s mum, picking up Keanu and giving him a little toss in the air. Keanu squealed and drool came out of his mouth and dripped down onto Kelly’s mum.

  ‘You little whatsit!’ she said. ‘Are you spitting at your mum, eh? I’ll give you what for.’ She tossed him up in the air again and he squealed and slurped again.

  Biscuits and I watched in appalled fascination.

  ‘I don’t really reckon babies,’ said Biscuits.

  ‘Me too,’ I said.

  ‘Me three,’ said Kelly. ‘You try living with one all the time. So – you’re coming round to the site, right?’

  It was all agreed.

  Mum was narked and had words with Dad back at the hotel. Lots and lots of words. We could easily hear them in the next room.

  I felt fussed about Biscuits.

  ‘It’s OK, Super-Tim,’ he said kindly. ‘You should hear my mum going on at my dad sometimes.’

  I felt a lot better. Though I was a bit worried about going to the caravan site myself.

  ‘Why don’t you want to go now? Kelly’s your girlfriend, isn’t she?’ said Biscuits. He made kissy-kissy noises.

  ‘Shut up. I don’t kiss her.’

  ‘Oh darling Kelly,

  You’ve got such a flat belly,

  You’re never ever smelly,

  Let’s sit in the dark and watch telly,’ said Biscuits, clasping Dog Hog. He made Dog Hog wiggle around and say in a squeaky voice:

  ‘Oh Tim, Tim,

  You’re not so dim,

  Come and cuddle in.’

  ‘You nut! Shut up, shut up,’ I said, seizing Dog Hog and bashing Biscuits on the head with him.

  ‘Ouch! Kelly’s attacking me,’ Biscuits giggled.

  ‘Well, give it a rest, you pest. Oh no! You’ve got me doing daft rhymes now. No, about the caravan site. I was thinking . . . what if Prickle-Head and Pinch-Face hang out round there?’

  ‘Ah,’ said Biscuits. He smoothed Dog Hog and laid him down gently on his pillow. ‘I don’t think I’ll take him with me then.’

  ‘He can keep Walter company,’ I said. ‘Biscuits, you were so brave rescuing Dog Hog. I wish I was brave like you.’

  ‘Well, if Prickle-Head threw Walter Bear over the railings you’d go and get him, wouldn’t you?’ said Biscuits.

  ‘Mmm,’ I said doubtfully. ‘I hope I would. I don’t know though. I wish I wasn’t such a coward.’

  ‘You’re not really,’ said Biscuits – but he sounded doubtful too.

  ‘Yes, I am. I’m afraid of everything.’

  ‘Look, I’m afraid of Prickle-Head,’ said Biscuits. ‘And Pinch-Face too. He didn’t half dig his nails in when he had hold of me.’

  ‘I’m afraid of heaps of other people too. I even get scared of my dad sometimes.’

  ‘Your dad? That’s daft, your dad’s smashing. It’s your mum who’s a bit . . .’

  ‘A bit what?’

  ‘Oh, never mind.’

  ‘OK, I’m not scared of my mum. But I’m scared of all these things too.’

  ‘What things?’ said Biscuits. He pulled a face and made his fingers into scrabbly claws. ‘Ghosties and ghoulies?’

  ‘Silly things. Like looking down from the top of the castle. And – and the cracks in the pier. And all sorts of other stuff.’ I sighed miserably. ‘I’m a complete wimp.’

  ‘You’re a tearful wimp – and I’m a cheerful chimp!’ said Biscuits, suddenly straddling his legs and letting his arms hang loose. He made loud chimpanzee noises. ‘Me want bananas!’

  It was impossible to stay depressed around Biscuits.

  ‘Me want bananas too!’ I said, and did my own chimp impersonation.

  Then we grew into Giant Gorillas and did mating calls and Mum stopped telling Dad off next door to come and tell us off instead.

  ‘You’re obviously getting very silly and over-tired already,’ she said. ‘It’s not a good idea for us all to traipse over to this caravan site after tea. But as your father has committed us then I suppose we’ve no option. But we’re not going to stay long. We’ll just say hello and stop ten minutes to be polite. We certainly won’t want any supper.’

  ‘Some of us might!’ said Biscuits.

  Mum pretended not to hear. She wasn’t talking to Dad at all when we drove over to the caravan site. I was a bit quiet myself, still worried that we might meet up with Prickle-Head any moment. I peered round anxiously as we walked down the rows of caravans – and then someone leapt on my back!

  ‘Hey, Tim, it’s me!’ Kelly said. ‘What are you screaming about?’

  ‘You made me jump,’ I gasped. ‘Don’t creep up on me like that again, Kelly.’

  ‘Oh, go on, it’s fun,’ said Kelly. ‘Hi, everyone. Our caravan’s at the back, over by the oak trees. This way!’

  She directed us like a traffic policeman. A big boy with short hair suddenly ran down the steps of his caravan and I stopped still, my heart thudding – but it wasn’t Prickle-Head after all, just some mild mini lookalike.

  ‘Do you know him?’ said Kelly. ‘He was
sucking up to me down the swings last night. But I told him I wasn’t interested.’

  ‘Really?’ I said, cheering up a little. ‘No, I don’t know him. But there’s this other boy from somewhere round here—’

  ‘Afriend of yours, is he?’

  ‘He’s a Deadly Enemy, him and his mate. They keep getting us, Biscuits and me.’

  ‘What’s he done to you then?’

  ‘Well. First of all he kicked my . . .’

  ‘He kicked you?’

  ‘No, he didn’t kick me. He kicked my sandcastle.’ I felt silly saying it. I sounded like a really little kid. ‘It wasn’t an ordinary sandcastle. It was a proper motte and bailey castle and I’d spent hours building it. And then they attacked us on the pier. It was really scary, Kelly, I thought they were going to throw us right over into the water. They were teasing Biscuits and they dropped Dog Hog over the railings.’

  ‘But I bet you rescued him like you rescued my Theresa Troll, right?’ said Kelly.

  ‘Wrong,’ I said. ‘I was useless. Biscuits rescued him himself. He was brilliantly brave, Kelly. But even Biscuits is scared of Prickle-Head.’

  ‘Prickle-Head!’ said Kelly, snorting. ‘Look, don’t you worry, Tim. If this Prickle-Head bobs up and starts giving you bother I’ll sort him out for you, OK?’

  ‘OK,’ I said, and we shook hands on it.

  We carried on holding hands as we walked over to Kelly’s caravan. It felt . . . odd. I’ve held hands before. Mum’s. This was very different. It felt OK. Yet I was scared of Biscuits seeing and laughing. And I was scared my palm might get all hot and sweaty. And I was scared to move my fingers about in case Kelly thought I was trying to tickle her but my hand was so rigid it felt like a baseball mitt. Scared again.

  ‘That’s our caravan,’ Kelly yelled, dropping my hand and dancing forward without a second thought.

  I wish wish wish I was a person without a second thought. I have third thoughts. But for a while all my thoughts were absorbed in admiring Kelly’s caravan.

  It was all so neat and tidy and dinky and perfect, like the best Wendy House in the world. I especially liked the way the table folded up and the bed folded down.

  ‘That’s Dean’s bed. When he’s being a right pain I shove the bed back into the wall with him inside,’ said Kelly.