I didn’t say anything at all at first. I was too worried. Especially when Jake told me to be first post.
I swallowed hard.
‘Excuse me, Jake,’ I squeaked.
‘Yes, Tim?’
‘I – I don’t want to be first post.’
‘Why’s that, eh?’ said Jake.
‘I can’t catch,’ I explained.
‘Well, just do your best,’ said Jake.
Giles was sighing and looking impatient.
‘I’d better be first post,’ he said.
‘No, we’ll give Tim a go,’ said Jake. ‘We’re going to keep changing round anyway. Come on, let’s get cracking.’
Jake bowled to the first Lion batter. They gave it a tap and then started running. Laura grabbed the ball and threw it to me.
‘Here, Tim, catch!’ she shouted.
I tried.
I really did.
Dad always yells at me to watch the ball.
I watched it go sailing past my cupped hands.
‘He’s missed it!’ Giles yelled.
‘Tim!’ said Laura.
‘Tim!’ said Lesley.
‘Tim!’ said Kelly.
‘Never mind, Tim,’ said Jake. ‘Next time, eh?’
I hoped and hoped and hoped I might do better next time.
I didn’t.
Or the next time.
Or the next.
Or the next.
Or the next.
It was so awful. No-one else was as useless as me.
Biscuits couldn’t run very fast at all but he was good at catching and he could hit hard too.
I couldn’t hit hard when it was our turn to bat.
I couldn’t hit the ball at all.
I was the worst at games. They all started shouting at me. Teasing me. Saying stuff.
When the games were over at last I ran into the Centre and had a bit of a cry by myself locked in the toilets. Then I remembered the phone in the hall.
I didn’t have any change on me but I reversed the charges. I got through to Mum.
I started telling her how awful it was and I asked her to come right that minute. She said she would but then Dad started talking too. He kept asking me why it was so awful. So I said about them all shouting at me. And Dad said I was making a fuss about nothing. I said I still wanted them to come and get me like they promised. But you can’t always trust your parents.
Especially your dad.
He said I should see how I felt tomorrow. He wasn’t going to come and fetch me tonight. No matter what.
‘But you said you’d come and get me if I didn’t like it,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to see how I feel tomorrow. It’s not fair. I didn’t want to come here in the first place.’
I was in the middle of saying all this – and a bit more – when Biscuits came along the hall and sort of hovered. So I sniffed a lot and said I’d phone again tomorrow.
‘You OK?’ said Biscuits as I put the phone down.
I nodded and blew my nose.
Biscuits looked bigger than ever, his sweatshirt straining. He saw me staring.
‘Want to see what I’ve got?’ he said, patting his much vaster tummy.
He suddenly gave birth to a big tin of golden syrup.
I laughed, even though I was still a bit snuffly.
Biscuits prized the lid open and stuck in his finger. He licked appreciatively.
‘Yum yum yum. Here.’ He held out the tin. ‘You can share it if you like.’
We were very sticky indeed by bedtime. I wished we didn’t have to share a room with Giles. It would have been great if it had just been Biscuits and me. But Giles kept going on and on about how hopeless we were at games and how Mega-Great he was at absolutely everything.
He insisted on demonstrating too. Especially his judo. He had me in this armlock that was horribly painful but Biscuits started waddling round the bedroom in his underpants, flexing his muscles.
‘I do sumo wrestling, right?’ he said, beating his chest. ‘So you’d better watch your step, Piles.’
‘You look more like a gorilla than a wrestler,’ said Giles, but he let go of me.
Biscuits did a wondrous gorilla impersonation, making very loud gorilla noises.
I did a gorilla impersonation too.
Giles joined in.
We were all three strutting about and thumping our chests, bellowing, when Jake came barging into the bedroom.
‘Hey, hey! Calm down, you lot. You’re like a lot of monkeys at a zoo,’ said Jake.
‘Exactly!’ I said.
‘Hum hum. Me want banana,’ said Biscuits, still being a gorilla.
‘You’re going to explode one day, Biscuits,’ said Jake. ‘Come on, into bed, you lot.’
‘What are we doing tomorrow, Jake?’ Giles asked.
‘We’re going for a bit of a climb – and then it’s abseiling,’ said Jake.
‘Great!’ said Giles, jumping up and down.
‘Not so great,’ said Biscuits, pretending to pass out on to his bed.
‘Utterly ungreat,’ I said.
My heart had started thumping again. Jake saw my face.
‘It is great, fellows, really,’ said Jake. ‘Come on, lie down now.’
‘Just got to get something,’ said Giles, haring over to his bag.
He dug deep . . . and came out with a teddy bear. Giles’s bear had a stitched nose stuck right up in the air and a sneery mouth.
‘Old teddy, eh?’ said Jake.
‘He’s not any old teddy, he’s Sir Algernon Honeypot,’ said Giles.
‘Well, settle down with his sirship, then,’ said Jake.
Biscuits was rootling about in his bag now.
‘Biscuits! No more food, do you hear me?’ said Jake.
‘I’m just getting Dog Hog,’ said Biscuits.
‘Who?’ said Jake.
Biscuits produced a long browny-pink knitted creature with floppy limbs and a curly tail. Biscuits made it prance about his bed.
‘We can’t work out if he’s a dog or a pig. My granny knitted him and she’s not very great at knitting actually,’ said Biscuits.
Jake looked at me.
‘Have you got your teddy, Tim?’
I just shook my head. I couldn’t say a thing.
I got into bed and pulled the sheets over my head. My arms felt so empty without Walter. And no-one would have laughed at me or called me a baby for having a cuddly toy.
I wanted my Walter Bear so much.
I don’t know when I went to sleep.
I kept waking up in the night.
And then it was suddenly day, and Jake was in our bedroom again, telling us to rise and shine. We were going up in the hills straight after breakfast.
Abseiling!
Chapter Three
IT TOOK AGES and ages to get up to the top of the hill. And all the way up I kept thinking about what it would be like coming down.
The others raced ahead, desperate to get there first.
I was jolly determined to be last.
Jake kept yelling to Biscuits and me to hurry up. We went as slowly as possible. And then even slower. And then we slowed almost to a standstill.
‘Come on, you guys! We’re all waiting!’ Jake shouted.
He had the others gathered round ready to learn about abseiling. Biscuits and I had to gather too, puffing and panting.
It was like being on the edge of the world. I took one look at the steep drop and started shaking. Kelly and Giles were pushing and shoving each other, arguing about who had got to the top first. They didn’t even seem to notice that if they took six steps the wrong way they’d be pushing and shoving in thin air.
‘Hey, hey! No messing around now,’ said Jake. ‘This is the serious bit. OK. Abseiling for beginners!’
He got all the ropes out of his backpack.
‘Who’s going to go first?’
‘Me! Me!’ said Giles.
‘No, me! Pick me, Jake. Please,’ said Kelly.
‘
You two are always first,’ said Jake.
He put his arm round Laura and Lesley, who were hanging on to each other.
‘How about you, Laura? Or Lesley?’ said Jake.
‘Lesley can go first,’ said Laura.
‘No, you can go first, Laura,’ said Lesley.
Jake laughed. Then he looked at me.
‘How about you, Tim?’
‘No!’ I squeaked.
Biscuits suddenly stepped forward.
‘I’ll have a go,’ he said.
We all stared at him, stunned.
‘Great!’ said Jake, giving him a pat on the back. ‘OK. Come and step into the harness, Biscuits.’
‘That’s going to be a bit of a squeeze!’ said Giles.
‘Why do the boys always go first? It’s not fair,’ said Kelly.
‘You lot pipe down,’ said Jake. ‘Watch carefully and listen.’ He was helping Biscuits get the ropes sorted around him. ‘We’ll hitch this up and tighten it . . .’
‘It’s tight already,’ said Giles.
‘Giles! Shut it!’ said Jake. ‘Now, we tie up all the buckles and clip this gadget here – tighten it up, see, so it can’t be opened. That means you can’t fall out.’
‘Are you sure?’ said Biscuits.
He was starting to sound as if he was regretting his decision. He shifted from one foot to the other, helplessly trussed up like a turkey.
‘I’m one hundred per cent certain, pal,’ said Jake. ‘Now, you go down at your own pace —’
Biscuits screwed up his face.
‘What if I get dizzy?’
‘Any time you want to stop you just pull the ropes apart. OK? Now, I’ll just secure myself, right. And then we’re ready for your big moment, Biscuits.’
‘Good luck, Biscuits. I think you’re a hero,’ I said earnestly.
Biscuits beamed at me – though his teeth had started chattering.
‘OK. Start walking backwards towards the edge, Biscuits,’ said Jake.
‘Er. This is when it starts to get a bit . . .’ Biscuits wavered.
Even Giles and Kelly looked relieved that they weren’t going first now. The thought of stepping backwards into space made my legs tremble inside my tracksuit.
‘You’ll be fine, I promise,’ said Jake. ‘When you get to the edge stick your bottom out, legs and feet at right angles to the cliff – and don’t let go of the rope! Especially not with your left hand. You walk yourself down. You’re in control. Your bodyweight helps you down.’
‘Then Biscuits’ bodyweight is going to whizz him down mega-fast,’ said Kelly.
‘Shut up, Kelly,’ said Jake. ‘Come on, Biscuits. Over you go. I’ll buy you a chocky biscuit for going first, OK?’
‘How about a huge great bag of biscuits?’ said Biscuits.
He started shuffling backwards to the edge – and then – OVER IT!
‘That’s it. Good boy!’ said Jake. ‘Don’t let go with your right hand. Down you go. Easy does it. Great. Absolutely perfect! One foot after the other. Are you watching, kids? Biscuits is doing a grand job.’
I couldn’t watch. But everyone suddenly cheered – which meant Biscuits had made it right to the bottom of the cliff.
I didn’t dare look all the way down but I shouted ‘Well done, Biscuits,’ into the wind.
‘There! I told you it was easy,’ said Jake, hauling the ropes and harness back after Biscuits had unscrewed himself. ‘OK, Tim. You next.’
‘No!’
‘Yes,’ said Jake, coming over to me.
‘No,’ I said.
‘You’ve all got to go sooner or later,’ said Jake.
‘Later,’ I insisted.
‘No. Sooner,’ said Jake. ‘Get it over with.’
‘I can’t,’ I said.
‘Yes you can, Tim,’ said Jake, holding my hand.
‘He’s scared,’ said Giles.
‘We all get scared,’ said Jake. ‘Especially the first time.’ He bent down and looked me straight in the eye. ‘But you’ll see it’s easy, Tim. Trust me. Now. Into the harness.’
I found I was being strapped in before I could get away. Jake was telling me things about this rope in this hand, that rope in that, but the wind was whipping his words away. I couldn’t listen properly anyway. There was just this roaring inside my head.
‘Don’t let go of the rope, right?’ said Jake.
I felt as if my head was going to burst right out of my personalized safety helmet.
This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be happening to me. If I closed my eyes maybe it would all turn into a nightmare and then I’d wake up in bed at home with Walter Bear.
‘Tim?’ said Jake. ‘Open your eyes! Now, your pal Biscuits is down there waiting for you. Come on. Start backing towards the edge.’
I backed one step. Then another. Then I stopped.
‘I can’t!’
‘Yes you can,’ said Jake. ‘You’ll see. Over you go. Don’t worry. You can’t fall. You just have to remember, you don’t let go of the rope.’
I stared at him and started backing some more. Then my heels suddenly lost contact with the ground. I slipped backwards and suddenly . . . there I was! Suspended. In mid-air.
‘Help!’
I reached forward, desperate.
I had to hang on to something.
I grabbed at the rock.
I let go of the rope!
Suddenly I was sliding backwards, backwards, backwards.
I screamed.
I caught hold of the rock, though my fingers bent right back. I clung to it, sobbing.
I heard them shouting up above me.
‘He’s fallen!’
‘He’s let go of the rope.’
‘I knew he would!’
‘Trust Tim to blow it.’
‘He’s stuck.’
‘Don’t stop, Tim!’ Biscuits called from underneath me.
I turned my head and tried to look at him. The whole world started swerving and swooping. Biscuits seemed a tiny blob millions and millions of miles below me. I was hanging by my hands in whirling space.
‘Help!’
‘It’s OK, Tim. Don’t panic,’ Jake called down.
‘Don’t panic, Tim, don’t panic!’ Kelly yelled. ‘He’s panicking, isn’t he, Jake?’
‘Sh, Kelly. All of you. Just back off, eh?’ Jake said. ‘Now. Tim. Listen. You’ve let go of the rope.’
‘I know!’
‘But it’s OK. You can’t fall. You’re safe, I promise.’
‘I don’t feel safe. I feel sick.’
‘Well, you can get yourself down in a couple of ticks. All you need to do is grab hold of the rope.’
‘How???’
‘Just let go of the rock and —’
‘I can’t!’ Was Jake crazy? The rock was the only thing stopping me swinging through space. I couldn’t let go.
‘You’re safely strapped into your harness,’ Jake called. ‘You don’t need to clutch the rock. You’ve just got to take hold of the rope and then you’re back in business. See the rope? Tim! Open your eyes!’
‘I can’t look down.’
‘Look up. At me,’ said Jake.
I tilted my head and dared peep out between my eyelashes. Jake was leaning right over the edge, not too terribly far away. He gave me a thumbs-up sign.
‘That’s the ticket. Now. It’s OK. Have a little rest if you like. It’s not so bad now, is it?’
‘Yes!’
‘You can dangle there all day if you really want,’ said Jake.
‘No!’
‘Or you can get hold of that old rope and walk yourself down, one foot at a time, easy-peasy. Mmm?’
I peered up at him.
‘Can’t you pull me up?’ I begged.
‘We’re trying to get you down, pal, not up!’ said Jake. ‘You can do it. You’re being ever so brave.’
He had to be joking!
‘Stay there long enough and you’ll get such a head for heights you’ll
become a trapeze artist,’ said Jake.
‘I don’t think!’
‘So just reach out —’ Jake urged.
I thought about it. My fingers were hurting terribly. My hands were so scratched and sore. I couldn’t hang there for ever. Maybe if I let go and grabbed the rope I could get down. So I loosened my grip, I reached out suddenly, I tried to grab . . .
I swung round and it was so scary I shut my eyes and caught hold of the rock all over again.
I heard the others groaning. But Jake didn’t give up on me.
‘Nearly. Try again. Go on.’
So I tried again. I reached out. I made another grab at the rope. My hand was sticky with sweat but I got it – I held on to it – I had it safe!
‘Well done!’ Jake called. ‘There! I knew you could. Just keep hanging on to it this time, eh? Now walk yourself down. One step.’
I tried to move my feet. They were numb inside my boots. I made a teeny-tiny mouse-move downwards.
‘Great!’ said Jake. ‘Now another step.’
My other leg moved. And I moved too. I was going down.
‘We’re back in business,’ said Jake. ‘There we go. That’s it. You’re getting the hang of it now.’
‘I’m doing it!’ I said, stepping myself down through space.
‘That’s right. You’re doing it, Tim,’ Jake called. ‘You’re nearly halfway down. Doing just great. Carry on. Nice and easy. Good boy. Well done.’
‘I’m doing it,’ I mumbled. ‘I’m doing it. I’m doing it. It’s awful. But I’m doing it!’
‘Come on, Tim!’ Biscuits called up at me. He sounded much nearer now. ‘You’re nearly there!’
I carried on, quicker and quicker – and then suddenly I was at the bottom and Biscuits gave me such a thump on the back to congratulate me that I very nearly fell over.
‘You did it, you did it, you did it!’ Biscuits sang.
Jake was cheering me from right up at the top of the rock.
‘Well done, Tim! It wasn’t so bad, was it? Do you want another go, eh?’
I shook my head so hard my helmet wobbled.
‘Never ever ever again!’
All the others managed it without making a fuss. Giles was especially good at it. I knew he would be.
He went on and on and on at me going back to the Centre.
You were so scared!’ he said. ‘You just dangled there. And you cried! Boo hoo, boo hoo, little baby.’
Cliffhanger Page 2