“What about me, where am I going to go?” I asked.
“You are more than welcome to stay with us if you want, but your dad thought you’d probably want to stay at Janice’s house, so that was the only thing he told me before he left—that he’d rang Mrs Voyce and asked if you could stay,” Chelsea said.
Michael quickly shot me a warning look that said loud and clear—DON’T YOU DARE STAY WITH US INSTEAD!
“Ah thanks for the offer, but I’ll stay at Janice’s,” I said.
“All right then I’ll ring Mrs Voyce to confirm your dad’s arrangements.”
Journal entry:
Wednesday, 10:15pm
Dad is still away so I am staying over at Janice’s house until Friday. So far we have found out that Dad didn’t run off with the Russian lady after all. He had to leave in an emergency because Grandma had a fall.
She’s all right now, but she has two broken ribs and a broken leg, so she called Dad and asked him to stay until the end of the week and help her finish up her book tour. I asked Dad why Grandma didn’t call Aunt Maple instead but he said Aunt Maple was in a remote village somewhere in the middle of Africa and couldn’t be reached by telephone, only by donkey!
I like Aunt Maple. She is Dad’s younger sister and when I get to see her she tells me all kinds of stories about my mum and what they used to get up to as kids. They were the best of friends, right up until Mum died.
I’ve told Aunt Maple that as soon as I’m old enough I’m going to go with her to one of the African villages and make a documentary on her. She helps poor people by giving them medicine; she’s a real hero you know.
Guess what? I found out who the Russian woman is. She isn’t a model or a spy after all. She is Grandma Georgina’s New York assistant. Grandma sent Zoe down here to do some jobs for her and she asked Dad to pick her up from the airport and check her into a hotel. But then on the day of the emergency, Dad and Zoe had to fly back to New York to be with Grandma. But what I don’t understand is why Dad had kept all this a secret? It didn’t seem like a big deal if you ask me…
WEIRD.
Anyway I’m glad Dad told Chelsea the truth, so now she knows he didn’t run off with a Russian model. Boy, being in love seems so complicated so I have decided I am NEVER, EVER having a boyfriend.
Theo, Janice and I still haven’t come up with anything to explain Dad’s other odd behaviour so there were still lots of unanswered questions.
For example:
1. Why did he have airline tickets to Moscow?
2. Who has been calling him at all sorts of weird hours?
3. Where has he been sneaking off to and who has he been meeting?
4. What did that piece of paper in his jacket pocket mean?
Something tells me there is a lot more to that Russian assistant Zoe (if that’s really her name!). Janice is sure she’s also a spy and Dad has been sent to keep an eye on her…perhaps she is the double agent? I wonder what Grandma would say if she found out that her assistant was a Russian spy and maybe her son was one too.
Goodnight from Janice and me!!!
Journal entry:
Friday, 4:37pm
“How did you sleep?” Janice groaned at me in the morning emphasizing the ‘you’ part.
She looked sleepy and very grumpy.
I guessed this was a trick question and I wasn’t sure how to answer her.
“Urn…okay …I guess,” I said uneasily.
“Oh good I’m glad somebody did because you snored all night SOPHIE GEORGE!” she said throwing her pillow at me in anger.
Luckily I jumped out of the way because it crashed into the wooden blinds above me. The blinds fell onto my pullout bed making a huge clatter. Janice’s dim room quickly filled with sunshine making Janice even grumpier. When her mum rushed in to see what all the noise was about Janice yelled at her and pulled the covers over her head.
I decided a trip to the bathroom was a good excuse to give her the time she needed to calm down. Boy, I thought I was grumpy in the mornings, I thought to myself as I tiptoed along the soft carpeted hallway. I really liked Janice’s house, especially how the carpet felt under my feet. Nearly every room had soft cream carpet, so of course no one was allowed to step a foot into the house with shoes on.
Mrs Voyce had cotton slippers for guests to wear before they could come inside her spotless home. In our house the closest thing we had to carpet were the shabby throw rugs that lay on our wooden floorboards. I kind of preferred it on house cleaning day because sweeping was way faster than vacuuming and at least I had somewhere to hide the little piles of dirt after.
This week has flown by so fast. Dad was due home from New York this afternoon. I’m excited to see him and to go home. I really, really miss my bed. Theo has been rehearsing all week for his ballet finals tomorrow and Janice and I couldn’t wait for this day to hurry up so it was Saturday already.
At school today during Society & Environment, or ‘S&E’ as we call it, Mrs Doggerty was talking about economics, which was sooooooo boring that I decided to doodle in my book. I like drawing in class and I often draw pictures of stickmen doing sports. Theo always sits in front of me in S&E and swings back on his chair to chat.
“Hey isn’t your dad coming home today?” he asked leaning back on his chair pretending to stretch, so Mrs Doggerty wouldn’t notice him.
“A-hum,” I said scribbling away.
“Did you and Janice crack that code thing yet?” Theo said still balancing on the back legs of his chair.
“Nah and I don’t think we will,” I answered, finishing off the last leg of my stickman.
“What do ya’ think of these little dudes?” I whispered holding up my economics book to see what he thought of my latest cartoon. Theo exploded into laughter and nearly tumbled off his chair. In one quick motion to keep from falling back he propelled himself forward and slapped his hands down with a mighty smack.
The whole class spun around to see what had caused the commotion. Unfortunately Theo also caught the unwelcome attention of Mrs Doggerty. She huffed and puffed and snorted her way towards the back of the class. She reminded me of those ugly snarling bulldogs from a cartoon.
She stopped at Theo’s desk and gave him the once over, then for no reason at all she stood over me and started yelling.
“It wasn’t my fault Theo was swinging on his chair,” I mumbled under my breath.
“What was that, Missy?” she screeched like a cockatoo, but I didn’t repeat what I said.
“If you don’t mind I’ll take a look at that,” she said snatching the open notebook out of my hands. But I did mind; I minded a lot.
Soon after I found myself sitting outside the classroom in the rickety green chair with ‘TIME OUT’ written on the back. It was obvious Mrs Doggerty didn’t find my stickman as funny as Theo did.
Wobbling from side-to-side in the lopsided chair brought back many memories—mainly memoires of my old Maths teacher Mrs Gregg, as I spent most of her lessons sitting outside in this same uncomfortable chair.
Mrs Gregg was another teacher no one really liked. I don’t believe in witches but I would swear on my mother’s grave Mrs Gregg was really, truly a witch. Everyone thought so too but no one had proved it yet.
She did have a big ugly wart on the end of her long crooked nose and she always wore a long black shawl thing that looked like a witch’s cape. Theo, Janice and I were going to try and prove she was a witch…but she never came back to school after the summer holidays. Some of the kids think that because of our really hot summer this year the sun shrivelled her up like beef jerky.
I was enjoying rocking back and forth in the chair because when I rocked really fast it sounded like a hundred horses stampeding under the veranda…until Mrs Doggerty flew out of the classroom and put a stop to that little pleasure as well. Oh man, that sucked grapes! Now what was I supposed to do, just sit here and be bored?
After class, Theo kept apologising for getting me into trouble. I told hi
m that it was okay and I knew he felt bad. The truth was I hoped he did, even though I would never say that to his face. I was a little cheesed off it was always me who got the blame for everything. This was a mystery to me, I mean it’s not like I purposely set out to disrupt my classmates and annoy my teachers, it just sort of happened.
Journal entry:
Friday, 11:10pm
Dad’s home now safe. He brought Grandma Georgina home with him and she’s on crutches! I have to admit I am writing this journal entry in a state of devastation. You see I asked Dad if he had bought me back anything from New York City and he said as a matter of fact he did.
Then unzipping his small travel bag Dad took the following items out one by one and plonked them onto the coffee table: three packets of nuts, two tiny milks, two tiny cheeses, one miniature chocolate bar, one set of socks, one eye mask that had two stickers saying ‘PLEASE WAKE ME’ and ‘DO NOT DISTURB’, one miniature comb, one tiny toothbrush and one microscopic tube of toothpaste.
Dad looked so pleased with his collection of miniature airline assortments piled on top of the coffee table that I didn’t have the heart to tell him they weren’t quite what I was expecting.
Grandma Georgina told him, “That left over airline food doesn’t classify as reasonable gifts!” Then she told me she had something I would really enjoy much better and to go and fetch her red case from the spare room. I didn’t want to seem too eager, but I couldn’t help myself so I skipped all the way to the guest room and back again. My excitement grew as she usually brought me expensively nice gifts. But when Grandma pulled out a copy of her new murder mystery book, Knives and Daggers, I felt my excitement quickly drain away like someone had pulled out a plug.
“Open it,” she prompted. “It’s autographed,” she said looking quite pleased with herself. I slowly opened the book to the page with the inscription, it read, Always a pleasure to meet a fan, Yours truly, Georgina George.
Words escaped me—it was already pre-signed.
She didn’t even bother to sign a new book with something like, To my darling Granddaughter!
WHAT’S UP WITH THAT!!!
I didn’t mean to seem ungrateful but I could only keep up the fake smile for a short time before my face started to ache.
So I made the excuse I was tired and was going bed!
GOOD NIGHT!!!
Journal entry:
Saturday, 10:10pm
I’ve got stacks to write today! I woke early to the familiar sound of Dad cooking his weekend breakfast in the kitchen. Then I remembered that today was Theo’s dance competition, so I was super excited.
As I walked quickly along the hallway, I heard a buzzing sound in the lounge room. Buzz, buzz, buzz…
I followed the sound; it was coming from the side pocket of Dad’s airline bag. As I pulled his vibrating phone out from the pocket I must have accidentally pressed the answer button. Instantly I heard a woman’s voice on the other end, “Darlink, is that you? Darlink, can you hear me? I must speak wid you its terrrrribly imporrrt-ant! Hello are you there Yorj?”
The woman sounded Russian. At first I thought it must have been a wrong number but then it clicked—this had to be Zoe, Grandma’s assistant.
A thought crossed my mind, if it was Zoe, why was she calling Dad’s mobile and not Grandma Georgina’s?
I also noticed there were other several missed calls all from the same number and there were also two text messages. I held the sleek mobile in my hand and realised I was in a dilemma. What would a real spy do? I thought holding the mobile up to my face. I really wanted to trust my dad but at the same time with all these weird things going on, I just didn’t know who to trust or who to believe any more.
(Spy rule 127: Go with your first instinct!)
Without giving it another thought I pressed the ‘read text messages’ button on the mobile with my thumb. Several messages popped open and most of them read, You have a voice message please call 456. As I scrolled down the list one message caught my eye it read:
Please call me, problem with Russian embassy. Need passport number A.S.A.P., Z.
Not knowing what I had just learned, I quickly reset the phone back to the way it was and dropped it into the side pocket of the bag. Taking a moment to compose myself I looked around the room and took a few deep breaths in and out, making a slow whooshhh sound every time I exhaled. Yoga people on TV said that making the whooshing sound helped calm you down. I hoped this would work for me too because I felt so nervous and confused. I began to slowly walk up the hallway towards the kitchen.
As I got closer to the kitchen I thought I could hear voices laughing and chatting. I stopped just outside the doorway when I saw Grandma, Chelsea and Michael cozily sitting around our tiny kitchen table, while Dad was busy laying out a buffet style breakfast.
“Ahhh there’s the sleepy-head now,” said Dad acknowledging me standing in the doorway.
For a second or two I couldn’t move. Why were all these people here and why so early on a freaking Saturday?!
“Are you going to join us or are you going to stand there like a statue?” Dad asked me.
I warily walked over to my empty seat; apart from being shocked by the crowd of people in my kitchen before 9am, I was infuriated that Dad hadn’t bothered to wake me or even tell me we were having people over for breakfast.
This sucked more than grapes, I thought grumpily as I tried pulling my chair out from the overcrowded table.
I plonked down hard into my seat between Grandma and Idiot-Boy, folded my arms and sighed heavily in protest.
The meal was an awkward one. I only spoke if I had to and pretty much just grunted at everyone. Dad joked I was usually just a grumpy-head in the mornings and once I showered I would be back to my chirpy self. Everyone laughed, but I shot a nasty glare at Dad; he got the hint that I didn’t find his comment funny, and so his grin quickly turned into an apologetic frown.
Dad was right though, after my shower I did feel much better.
I was getting ready to go to Theo’s dance recital when I thought I should try and talk to Dad alone before I left. I was hoping everyone would have left by now…but that was certainly not the case.
Without even asking me what important plans I had on today, Dad had gone ahead and arranged a ‘surprise’ family photo shoot outside in the garden at 11:00 am.
“But Dad, I can’t be in any photo shoot, I promised Theo I would go to his ballet recital this morning at 10:30,” I complained like a sookie child.
“I’m sorry Sophie but I have already arranged a family day with a portrait and a big surprise that I know you won’t want to miss. You can have your friends come over after,” he said. It was obvious Dad hadn’t heard a word I had said.
“But it’s Theo’s ballet finals,” I tried explaining again this time fighting back tears; I really disliked it when he didn’t take my friends and my promises seriously.
“I’m sorry Sophie but I already have the day planned and you are just going to have to cancel your plans today. I’m sure Theo will understand,” he said smiling widely so no one could tell he and I were having heated words.
With that said Dad sent me back into the house to go and put on some ‘nicer clothes’.
I stormed off into the house mumbling rude words under my breath and slamming the back door as hard as I could—so hard I half-expected the side of the house to fall down.
I didn’t want to get re-dressed, so instead I snatched the cordless phone from its cradle in the hall and locked myself in my bathroom and called Janice.
“Do you want me to come right over? I can,” she said enthusiastically.
“Nah, you better not. At least one of us should go and support Theo,” I said miserably.
“Yeah, you’re right, but hey, Theo and I will come over as soon as he’s done. All right?” she said cheering me up.
“Yeah okay,” I grumbled.
“I wonder what your dad’s surprise could be. Do you have any ideas?” asked
Janice, she sounded more excited than I was.
Suddenly someone banged loudly on my bathroom door, and I jumped with fright.
“I gotta’ go, bye!” I whispered quickly hanging up before Janice replied.
“Sophie, are you in there? I need to use the bathroom!”
Oh, it was only Michael. I quickly pressed the call button to see if Janice was still on the line, but she wasn’t.
Michael banged on the door again. “Are you going to be long?” he shouted.
“Y-E-S spells ‘YES’!” I taunted.
“Oh c’mon how long are you going be?” I could tell he needed to go bad.
“I dunno, as long as it takes you to pee your pants!” I said spitefully.
“SOPHIE GEORGE! You get out here right now and apologise for that terrible comment!” Dad hollered through the door.
Uh oh!
I didn’t know my dad was out there as well. I stood up and slowly opened the bathroom door into the hallway. Dad’s angry red face was glaring at me.
Michael was standing behind him dancing some sort of victory jig and pulling a stupid face at me. I wanted to punch him so bad. It was a shame he didn’t get caught when Dad quickly turned around and offered him the free bathroom. I went to protest but Dad took me tightly by the arm and ushered me along the hall and into the lounge room where he sternly told me to “SIT!”
“Sophie I don’t know what has gotten into to you today but this attitude of yours has got to stop,” he said scratching his head. “You and Michael really have to try to get along.”
“But I don’t like him, he’s an idiot,” I protested folding my arms tightly to show Dad I was never going to change my mind about him.
“It’s about time you took other people’s feelings into consideration,” Dad scolded.
“I DO!” I shrieked in protest. I wanted to tell him I have done nothing but put Chelsea’s feelings first throughout all this confusion he’s made. I was so angry at my father and really wished I could confront him about all his odd behaviour lately. Then I realised something—I could confront him. We were alone and here was Dad lecturing me about my behaviour, but I had a bazillion questions about his strange behaviour. I decided it was now or never to ask him what I wanted to know.
I Think My Dad Is a Spy Page 5