Sophie whimpered.
Max gasped.
And a tall grey shape appeared in the doorway.
For someone who claimed not to believe in the Piddington Phantom, Max did a pretty convincing impression of someone who did.
“Die, phantom, die!” he screamed, swinging wildly with what was probably a very expensive antique sword. Like I said, he’s a heavy kid, but the sword was clearly much heavier. As he attempted to hack the grey figure into tiny bits, he was thrown off balance and sent staggering towards the door.
“Oi!” barked a castle guide, catching Max by the shoulders and putting a stop to his spinning. “What’re you lot doing in here?”
Sophie grabbed my sleeve. “Is that the ghost?” she whispered.
“No, of course it isn’t, silly,” I said, trying to sound as reassuring as I could. “He just works for the ghost and does its evil bidding.”
“You lot shouldn’t be in here,” the guide said. There was something about the way he wore his uniform – buttons shiny, trousers immaculately pressed – that gave me the impression he took his job very seriously. We were on the brink of getting into some pretty big trouble. Luckily, I had a strategy all worked out.
“We’re castle inspectors,” I told him. “From the Ministry of Castles and Stately Homes.”
“You what?”
I put an ear to the closest wall, tapped one of the stone blocks and shook my head sadly. “And I have to say, we’re very disappointed with what we’ve found here today.”
The guide tutted. “Think I was born yesterday, do you? You’re just a bunch of kids who’ve wandered into somewhere you’re not supposed to be.”
Catching one of Max’s arms the man took a step towards me and Sophie, his other hand making a grab for us. Sophie screamed and ducked behind me. “Don’t let him take me to the ghost!”
“What ghost?” demanded the guide. “What’re you on about?”
Sophie screamed again. “Th-that ghost!”
Her arm reached past me, finger outstretched. We all looked round in time to see a large grey shape sail through the air above the length of red rope. Its eerie outline flapped and fluttered as it seemed to float towards us.
Then, with a bark, the shape landed on the ground. The grey tapestry it had been tangled in fell to the floor, revealing Destructo. He bounded over to me, jumping up excitedly and trying to lick my face.
“No dogs allowed!” the guide bellowed. “And what’s it done to that tapestry?”
With the guide distracted, Max took the opportunity to kick him hard on the shin and pull his arm free.
“Ow! I’ll get you for that, you little monster,” said the guide, hopping and clutching at his leg.
Excited by all the noise, Destructo ran in circles, knocking the man off his feet and sending him crashing down on top of the fallen armour. The guide looked up from the floor in time to see the dog lifting his leg and peeing happily on another tapestry hanging from one of the walls.
“Well, clearly this dog is not supposed to be here,” I said, grabbing Destructo by the collar and dragging him towards the door. “We’ll take it outside and find its rightful owner before it causes any more damage.”
“Get back here!” the guide growled. “Don’t you run off!”
Running off was exactly what I had in mind. Sophie, Max and I ducked under the rope, with me pulling Destructo along behind. Once we were out of the room, Destructo ran ahead, almost tearing my arm off. I let him go and we raced after him along the corridors, hunting for the rest of the family.
“Ghost! There’s a ghost!” cried Sophie as we dodged through a throng of tourists. They looked at us in surprise, then flattened themselves against the wall in fright at the sight of the enormous grey hound racing along in front of us.
Mum, Dad, Jodie, Jas and Steve all turned as we hurried towards them.
“How did the dog get in here?” asked Mum.
“Destructo, sit!” said Jodie. Destructo sat down, mid-run, and slid the last few metres on his bottom. “How did the dog get in here?” she demanded.
Jas looked down at Sophie. “Did you say ‘ghost’?”
“Hmm? No,” I said, skidding to a stop on the slippery stone floor. “She said, um, ‘gas’. There’s a gas leak. We have to leave.”
“No, she didn’t!” Max protested. “She said gho—”
I clamped my hand over Max’s mouth. He might have a knack for avoiding trouble, but the same couldn’t be said for me. If he told Mum and Dad about the chaos we’d caused, I’d be grounded for a week.
I glanced back to make sure the guide hadn’t tracked us down yet. “Ssh now, Max. Remember, they told us not to make a fuss so we don’t cause mass panic. The last thing they want is everyone stampeding for the exit at the same time. It’d be chaos!”
We looked around at the empty corridor. The half-dozen tourists who had been gazing blankly at the grey walls had now filed out quietly. “Well, maybe ‘chaos’ is a strong word,” I admitted. “But someone might fall over or lightly graze their elbow or something, and they just can’t take that chance.”
Somewhere, not too far away, I heard the angry voice of the guide. I smiled, probably a little too broadly. “Everyone ready, then?”
“It cost three quid each for us to get in,” Dad pointed out. He’s a real skinflint. Even when he’s having a completely terrible time, he’ll stick something out until the bitter end so he gets maximum value for money.
“I’d happily pay twice that to get back out,” Jas said.
I took hold of Destructo’s collar and started to lead us to the exit.
Jodie yanked her earphone out of her ear. “What’s happening now?” she asked.
“There’s a gas leak,”I said. “We have to leave.”
“A gas leak? How could there be a gas leak?” yelled Jodie. “It’s a fifteenth-century castle – they didn’t have gas.”
I peeked round a corner to make sure the guide wasn’t lurking nearby. The coast was clear.
“Well, they do now,” I said. “Too much of it, if anything. That’s why it’s leaking.”
We turned the corner and made our way down a flight of steps and towards the open front door.
“Come on, keep up,” I urged, glancing back up the stairs in case we were being followed. “We don’t want to get gas poisoning.”
“What I don’t understand,” muttered Dad, who was dawdling at the back of the group, “is how on earth Destructo got out of the car.”
We all stood in the car park, staring at Aunt Jas and Steve’s car. It was a nice car. Or, at least, it had been.
“That’ll probably just tape back on,” I said, bending to pick up the rear windscreen which lay on the ground, completely intact. Destructo sat beside the back bumper, his tail wagging as he gazed proudly at his handiwork.
“It pushed the window out,” Jas muttered. “That … beast pushed the back window out.”
“Could’ve been worse,” I said. “At least he hasn’t chewed any of the seats to bits!”
I peered in through the gap where the window had been. There was white foam stuffing over every surface. “Oh no, I tell a lie. He has.”
Jas threw her arms up in frustration. “Brilliant! Well, isn’t that just great?”
“Come on, cutie-smoosh, it’s not that bad,” said Steve, but Jas quickly cut him dead.
“Not that bad, Steve? Not that bad? Look at it! That dog’s trashed the windscreen and ripped up half the seats.”
Steve held his hands up to try to calm her down. “I’m just saying, it’s not really the dog’s fault.”
“How is it not the dog’s fault?” Jas snapped. “Whose fault is it, then? Hmm, Steve? Did you destroy the car? Did I?”
Mum stepped between them. “It’s OK. Calm down. We’ll pay for it.”
Dad’s ears pricked up. “Eh?! I mean… I’m sure their insurance will cover it.”
Jas turned on him. “No, actually, I don’t think the insurance covers
the car being eaten by an enormous dog.”
“Partially eaten,” I corrected, then shifted uncomfortably as Jas shot me a furious glare.
There was lots of muttering after that. Aunt Jas got in the driver’s seat and slammed the door behind her. Destructo bounded back into the boot through the missing window, and everyone else squashed into their seats.
“Well, what a brilliant day this is turning out to be,” Jodie mumbled, digging an elbow into my ribs.
“Statistically, it can only get better,” I said.
Little did we know, though, it was actually about to get much, much worse.
“How come I’ve got the chewed-up one?” Jodie demanded, wriggling uncomfortably on the ruined remains of the seat.
I winced as if in pain, gingerly rubbing the base of my spine. “My bad back. I couldn’t possibly sit on that,” I said, fighting back a grin. “Also, it’s probably a bit of a deathtrap, what with the seatbelt fastener having been gnawed to pieces. Plus, Mum and Dad love me more, so that’s why you’ve got that seat.”
“We do not love you more,” Mum called from the seats in front. She had to shout quite loudly to make herself heard over the roaring wind coming through the gaping hole where the rear windscreen should have been. Steve had wedged the windscreen into the boot, standing on its end, in the hope it would stop Destructo jumping out. There’s no way it would stop him if he wanted to get out, but we were going pretty fast and even Destructo wasn’t that dumb.
I gasped. “You mean … you love her more? Impossible! Anyway, didn’t you say you found her in a skip, and she’s not really even part of the family?”
Jodie thumped me on the leg. I bit my lip and forced a smile. “That totally didn’t even hurt,” I said, crying on the inside.
“No, we didn’t say that and you know it.” Dad sighed. He had Max sitting on his knee, and his expression suggested he’d quite like to chuck him out of the window.
I turned to Sophie, who was perched on my right, her wide eyes darting anxiously at the motorway whizzing by outside. “Hey. You’re not still scared about that whole ghost thing, are you?”
She nodded. “A bit.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be,” I said. “There’s no point worrying about a silly ghost! I mean, yes, one day it’ll find you. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But some day it will find us all. And when it does…”
“Ignore him,” said Jodie. “He’s lying. As usual.”
“Why would I lie about something like that?”
“Because you lie about everything,” Jodie said. “You can’t help it. It’s like you’ve got an illness.”
“You’re the one who’s got an illness,” I told her.
Jodie shook her head. “Weak comeback.”
“No, I mean it,” I said. “Didn’t Mum show you the letter from the hospital? They’re not saying it’s definitely fatal, just that it probably is.”
“Hilarious,” Jodie scowled.
I patted her hand. “Good to see you’re putting such a brave face on it.”
We sat in silence for a while, listening to the roaring of the road beneath the tyres, and the howling of the wind behind our heads. Up in front, Jas and Steve were arguing, but it was impossible to make out what they were saying.
Sophie looked up at me, her eyes wide. “Do you think my mum and dad are going to get divorced?” she asked, biting her lip.
“Of course not,” I smiled. “They’re not married, so technically they’ll just separate.”
Jodie dug an elbow into my ribs. “But that won’t happen, either,” I quickly added.
Sophie wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “Are you sure?”
“Trust me,” I said. “Everything’s going to be totally fine.”
Just then, the car swung violently left, throwing us all to the right. Sophie screamed. Max laughed. With her seatbelt gone, Jodie had to brace herself against the seat in front to stop herself sprawling on to the floor.
With a screeching of brakes the car skidded to a stop. I thought we must have hit something, but then Jas yanked on the handbrake and turned angrily to Steve.
“I’m not an idiot, Steve. I do know the way to my sister’s house!”
Steve held up his hands. “I’m not saying you don’t,” he protested. “I was just reminding you that the turning was coming up.”
“How did you know? Hmm?” fumed Aunt Jas. “Was there a big picture of a dragon showing the way?”
Mum and Dad shot each other a worried glance. Everyone else just satin awkward silence, except Destructo, who lay in the back noisily licking his bottom with a breathtaking amount of enthusiasm.
“Still, no harm done, eh?” said Mum, cheerfully.
Jas held up an open palm, silencing her. “Stay out of this, Claire.”
“I’m just trying to help,” Mum said. Before Jas could reply, Dad leaned right over into the front and turned up the radio.
“This is one of mine,” he said, without a hint of shame. “For a fly spray. Join in if you know the words!” He took a deep breath just as the jingle hit top gear.
“You’re so annoying, just leave me alone, you’re driving me crazy, get out of my home,” he sang, giving it lots of elbow action which made Max wobble around on Dad’s knees. “It’s time to say bye-bye, I wish that you’d just die…”
His voice trailed off when he realized everyone in the car was staring at him. Even Destructo had paused, mid-bottom lick, to look Dad’s way.
Quietly, Dad cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he said. “Those lyrics possibly weren’t helping.”
It all kicked off then. Jas started shouting at Steve. Mum started moaning at Dad. Destructo started barking his head off, while Sophie burst into tears and Max took great delight in punching the car roof over and over again.
Jodie scowled at me. “This is your fault.”
“How is this my fault?” I asked.
“Because of all your lies. They caused this!”
I shook my head. “I find that very hard to believe,” I said. Jodie tutted then turned away.
We had pulled off the main road into an industrial estate. A few people walked past the car, shooting us sideways glances. I was tempted to hold up a sign telling them I’d been kidnapped, but instead just smiled broadly and gave them a wave as they hurried by.
Eventually, as the din reached fever pitch, Mum turned to Jodie and me. “Look,” she said, “why don’t you two go and find a takeaway and pick us all up some fish and chips for lunch? Me and your dad will take Max and Sophie to a park to give Aunt Jas and Steve a chance to work things out.”
“A park?” said Dad. “We’re in the middle of an industrial estate. Where are we going to find a park?”
“We’ll find one,” said Mum, very deliberately. “How difficult can it be? Here.” She thrust a twenty-pound note into Jodie’s hands, then slid open the side door and gestured for us all to pile out.
“We’ll be back soon,” Mum said to Jas, but she and Steve were so busy arguing they didn’t even notice us getting out of the car.
As soon as he was set free, Max punched Dad in the groin with all his might, then ran off laughing. Dad hobbled after him, swearing below his breath, while Mum and Sophie hurried to catch up.
Jodie folded her arms and looked up and down the road. Factories, warehouses and rundown garages lined both sides of the street.
“Where are we meant to find a chip shop round here?” she sighed.
“Don’t worry, I know where there’s one,” I announced. Picking a direction at random, I set off at a brisk pace which suggested I knew exactly where I was going. “Follow me, I’ll get us there in no time!”
Jodie growled. “You have no idea where you’re going, do you?”
“Please. I know exactly where I’m going,” I said.
“No, you don’t. We’ve passed that same shop four times in the past twenty minutes,” Jodie said, pointing across the road to a second-hand furniture shop which I had to admit did look a bit
familiar.
“All these little furniture places look the same.”
“Do they all have the same name and the same woman standing in the doorway?” Jodie asked. “Look, she’s even waving at us she’s seen us so often.”
“She’s not waving,” I said. “She’s … polishing a butterfly.”
Jodie stopped. “Aaargh! Why do you always do this?”
“Do what?” I asked innocently.
Jodie shot me her “I’m about to hurt you” Look, which I knew only too well.
“Lie all the time!” she cried. “Like at the castle, there wasn’t really a gas leak.”
“There was—” I protested, but she cut me off.
“There was not. Why can’t you tell the truth, Beaky? For once!”
Somehow, she had seen through my cunning ruse. OK, it wasn’t all that cunning, but Jodie seemed pretty gullible most of the time. Either that or she couldn’t be bothered calling me out on my lies. Recently, though, she’d questioned nearly everything I said. She clearly wasn’t falling for the gas leak lie. That left only one option: tell a different one.
“You’re right, there wasn’t a gas leak,” I admitted.
“Thank you.”
“It was a radiation leak. The castle has got a nuclear reactor in the basement. I thought I’d better get Max and Sophie to safety before they mutated and turned green or something, and ruined everyone’s weekend.”
Jodie hit me with the full force of the Look. Any moment now she was going to hurt me, but how?
A Chinese burn?
A nipple twister?
World's Greatest Liar Page 3