by Lou Kuenzler
Barry leapt about two metres in the air. He began madly scratching his head. “Help!” he cried. “Help! I’ve got nits.”
Gran sat up in bed.
“Barry? What are you doing here? Whatever is the matter?” she gasped.
“Nits!” cried Barry again. “I can feel them nibbling under my hair.”
“Under your hair?” said Gran.
“In my hair,” said Barry, trying to sound calmer. “I mean, in my hair. This is all Violet’s fault! I told you she was infested with nits. Now she passed them on to me!”
“I haven’t got nits!” I hissed, even more. “But I’m going to act like a nit. I’m going to make you itch and itch, Barry Bling!”
“Come here, Barry,” said Gran, swinging her legs out of bed and turning on the main light. “Bend down. I’ll have a look in your hair.”
“No!” Barry leapt across to the other side of the room … probably remembering that his hair wasn’t hair at all. It was a wig. And it was full of stolen jewellery!
“Don’t be such a baby!” Gran grabbed a comb off her bedside table. “Come on!”
“I’m fine!” Barry tried to dodge sideways. But Gran was after him. She’d had plenty of practice at trying to catch me when I didn’t want to comb my hair.
“Come on! I’ll just have a look,” she said.
“Please don’t!” begged Barry, trying a new approach. “I’m too embarrassed.”
I my legs again and he began to scratch like mad.
The more I wriggled, the more he itched. I couldn’t help it. I began to laugh.
“Oh dear!”
My whole body was shaking now. The thought of Barry Bling the Big BAD jewellery thief getting in such a state because he thought he had nits in his wig was just too much for me!
And then…
The next thing I knew I’d shot back to . Tears of laughter were streaming down my face.
I looked down and saw that I was sitting right on top of bald-headed Barry. He was pinned to the ground underneath me. I’d broken free of the glue when I had grown. But there I was. Still in my pyjamas … with Barry’s wig resting, lopsided, on the top of my head!
“What? … How? … Where did you come from?” he gasped.
But I just grinned.
“Got you, thief!” I said. “You’re under arrest, Barry Bling!”
A week later, Gran and I stood in the queue to ride
Gran was grinning from ear to ear and wearing her favourite rainbow-striped top.
Mum was worried Gran shouldn’t go on the ride, but Nurse Bridget had checked that it was OK for old people. As long as they didn’t have a heart condition, it was fine.
Cora, Dora and Mr Gupta were all giving it a go too. And Nurse Bridget. They were giggling like schoolchildren in the queue behind me.
“It is VERY tall!” said Cora.
“Huge!” agreed Dora.
I was trying hard not to get too excited! After all, I didn’t want to shrink before I was measured for the ride.
But I couldn’t help it.
I cried, flinging my arms in the air and nearly bopping poor old Mr Gupta in the face.
“Quite right! You enjoy it, my dear!” he said.
“Yes,” agreed Cora smiling and wrinkling up her freckled nose. “This is your treat, Violet. After all, you are the one who solved the mystery of the jewellery thefts.”
“Not that I’ll ever understand quite how you worked it all out!” said Dora.
“Oh, it was easy, really,” I shrugged.
“Violet just followed a few tiny little clues!” giggled Gran.
We’d decided it was best not to try and explain too much.
“Shrinking is a tricky business,” Gran had reminded me. “The world may not be ready for your little talent quite yet!”
“Our little talent,” I had smiled. “Don’t forget, you were a shrinker too!”
In the end, we didn’t need to explain much anyway. As soon as Nurse Bridget saw Barry’s wig stuffed full of jewels, she called the police. They took Barry away and it was him who had to answer all the questions. It turns out the police were already looking for him.
Barry used to work as a groomer in a poodle parlour. (That’s when all his hair fell out. He had an allergic reaction to dog fleas. No wonder he didn’t want to catch nits!) But last Christmas, he ran away with all the money the poodle parlour had raised for a lost dog charity called . I always knew Barry was mean … but stealing money from puppies is just plain horrible!
“You did a good job, Violet,” said Mr Gupta as we shuffled forward in the queue. He handed me a mint humbug.
“Thank you!” I slipped the sweet into my pocket with the four others he’d given me already. I hadn’t opened any of them. I’d been offered fizzy drinks and junk food too, but I’d turned them all down. Instead, I’d brought along a packet of dry, Oaty Flakes to munch.
“At least Barry will be properly punished now!” said Nurse Bridget.
“It would be punishment enough to have to go on that thing,” said Mrs Paterson, staring up at She was with us in the queue but wasn’t actually going to ride.
“Because of my weak heart!” she explained. “Also, I’d worry that when I turned upside down on the roller coaster, my false teeth would fly out! I can’t find my tube of anywhere!”
“Oh dear! I think Barry might have stolen that too!” I said.
“Honestly!” sighed Mr Gupta. “Is there NOTHING that man wouldn’t pinch?”
“Maybe I should wait with you while the others go on the ride, Nan,” said Riley. Mrs Paterson had insisted that he come along on the trip. But from the nervous way he was nibbling his fingernails, he didn’t seem very thrilled to have been invited.
“I mean, just so you don’t get lonely,” he said, breathing deeply and clutching his stomach.
“I – er – don’t mind missing my go. If I have to … I’m not scared or anything.” He shot a look at me. “I’m not going to run away like some people did!”
I wasn’t so sure. It looked to me like Riley was ready to scuttle off any second.
“You’re such a kind boy,” said Mrs Paterson.
“But don’t worry, Riley. I’ll just wait at the side there. You enjoy the ride.”
“Er … OK! Er … thanks,” breathed Riley, gulping for air. He looked so nervous now his cheeks were puffed up like a hamster. He didn’t look so much like a rat any more. More like Hannibal! (Who, I’m pleased to say, was found safe and sound in the store cupboard at Sunset. He was chewing his way through a stack of spare toilet rolls.)
“Is this queue ever going to move?” groaned Tiffany, who was standing behind Riley.
I don’t know why Gran had to be nice and offer to bring her along either! Tiffany doesn’t even like theme parks. And it’s not like she helped solve the great jewellery robbery.
“Actually, the queue is moving quite quickly!” I pointed ahead of us. “Look! We’re nearly at the measuring point already!”
I stuffed another handful of Oaty Flakes into my mouth.
But just as Tiffany looked up, there was a horrible retching sound and Riley threw up. … all over her new, blue high-heeled shoes.
Tiffany screamed and ran to the toilets.
“I hope there’s not a rat in there any more,” I giggled.
“Sorry! Nerves!” puked Riley again. He ran to the toilets too.
“My poor poppet!” cried Mrs Paterson. She ran after Riley.
“Should I go and check on Tiff as well?” said Gran.
“No!” I squeezed her hand. “You’ll miss the ride. Look!”
I stared at the sign just ahead of us.
“And I am one point four metres tall!” I whispered, stuffing handfuls of Oaty Flakes into my mouth. “I am one point four metres tall.”
/> “Why are you still eating that stuff?” whispered Gran, looking down at my cereal packet. “I thought it was excitement, not Oaty Flakes, that makes you shrink.”
“Exactly!” I whispered back. “I don’t want to shrink today! I want to stay I want to be exactly one point four metres tall so I can ride on
“Ah!” said Gran. “But I still don’t understand about the cereal?”
“It’s all part of my latest plan!” I explained. “I mustn’t get overexcited. So I’m just going to keep chewing the Oaty Flakes and thinking about how they taste! So long as I keep stuffing them in my mouth, there’s a chance I might not shrink!”
agreed Gran.
“This is SO exciting!” giggled Cora and Dora behind us.
“A thrill indeed!” agreed Mr Gupta.
I closed my eyes and tried to imagine all the most boring things I could think of: spelling tests, traffic jams, Tiffany trying to decide which top to wear…
“Next,” called a theme park man in a yellow jacket. “Step up to the measuring line, please. Are you tall enough to ride on little girl?”
Who was he calling LITTLE?
“I AM TOTALLY, TOTALLY ONE POINT FOUR METRES TALL …”
It is really very hard not to get overexcited on the and day of your life … I stuffed another handful of boring Oaty Flakes in my mouth.
“Here goes!” I said.
But as I stepped forward, I felt a tiny, tiny tingling in my toes…
Huge thanks to Sophie McKenzie for many readings, wise words and biscuits. Also Pat White and Claire Wilson at RCW for support and knowledge. To Polly Nolan for the spark. To all the team at Scholastic. And Alice Swan for editing with joy!
Scholastic Children’s Books
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First published in the UK by Scholastic Ltd, 2012
This electronic edition published by Scholastic Ltd, 2014
Text copyright © Lou Kuenzler, 2012
Illustration copyright © Kirsten Collier, 2012
The right of Lou Kuenzler and Kirsten Collier to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted by them.
eISBN 978 1407 14668 3
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