Weirdest Show on Earth
Page 9
Madame Shirley!
Before I could react, the rest of the audience got to their feet. The clapping almost raised the roof and Ms Brannan had to shout to make herself heard as she darted out on to the stage.
“Right! Good! Now, on with the play!”
The audience’s applause turned to boos and groans. “No, please. No more!”
“It was rubbish!”
“Way to go, Beaky!”
I couldn’t see Madame Shirley now. I was about to hurl myself into the crowd when I felt Evie’s hand slip into mine. “I think they want us to take a bow,” she said. As we lowered our heads, everyone cheered and stamped their feet.
Then the cheering turned to laughter and I looked round to see Wayne stumbling out of the wings in the dog-suit. The head had been sewn back on along with a couple of alien-like tails, and the worst of the damage had been covered with shiny silver stars and moons.
“So … what?” he demanded. “I got dressed up in this thing for nothing? Again?”
Over the laughter, I heard another sound. A deep, guttural growling that I recognized all too well.
The hall’s main door stood open, revealing Destructo framed in the doorway. All the hair on the back of his neck was standing up and his eyes were locked on Wayne.
“How did he get out?” Mum yelped.
“My car!” said Dad, rushing towards the side exit. “I bet he’s eaten the car!”
“N-no. Not again!” Wayne stammered, as Destructo tore towards the stage.
Wayne flung himself into the wings, getting tangled in the curtains as he tried to escape and – with a rrrrip – they were torn down, revealing the rest of the cast and crew standing backstage. Chloe glanced up from her phone, looked around, then took a bow.
Meanwhile Wayne let out a series of muffled screams as he stumbled out through a fire exit and ran off into the night.
After another burst of applause, the audience quickly began to file out in case Ms Brannan made us carry on with the play.
“Wait right there,” I told Evie, then I jumped off the stage and shoved my way through the crowd, searching for Madame Shirley.
She couldn’t have gone far. She had to be there somewhere.
I couldn’t find her in the hall or out in the corridor or even in the school foyer. I hurried out into the cool evening air but all I saw were a few parents and kids headed for the car park.
I’d lost her. Again.
I was about to head back inside when something green and shiny fluttered past me on the breeze. It was an empty crisp packet.
An empty pickled onion crisp packet.
It looped in the air in front of me, then floated off to my right before banking sharply around the side of the school. Hurrying after it, I saw an old woman walking along the pavement just a few metres ahead.
It was Madame Shirley.
I’d finally found her!
“Wait!” I cried. “Madame Shirley! It’s you, isn’t it?”
The old woman turned round and waved at me.
“Hello, Beaky,” she said. There was a rustling as she held a bag towards me. “Crisp?”
“What? Uh, no,” I said. “Thanks.”
Madame Shirley shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She watched me for a moment then puffed out her cheeks. “Was there something you wanted to say to me?”
“Yes!” I said, still staring at her in disbelief.
“Well?” she chuckled. “What was it?”
I opened my mouth but nothing came out. What did I want to say to her? That she’d ruined my life? That I hated her for sticking me in that stupid machine? That she needed to put me back in and fix me?
I couldn’t have said that stuff even if I’d wanted to. Because, well, it wasn’t true. Not really. Not any more.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I think you know who I am,” she said, popping another crisp in her mouth and crunching it. “I’m Madame Shirley.”
From the way she said it, I knew there was no point pressing the issue. She munched some more crisps, then smiled at me.
“Was there anything else you wanted to say?”
“Uh … yeah,” I said. “Yeah. Um… Leon says ‘thanks’.”
“Does he? Wonderful!” Madame Shirley beamed. She tilted her head a little and looked me right in the eye. “And how about you, Beaky?”
“Um…” I thought for a moment, then said: “Let me get back to you on that.”
Madame Shirley let out another little chuckle. “I’ll look forward to it,” she said, then she winked, turned away and strolled off along the pavement.
“There you are,” said Evie, appearing beside me. “Who was the old lady?”
“Madame Shirley,” I explained.
“She seemed … strange.”
I smiled. “She is,” I said. And then the moment was shattered by a costumed Wayne sprinting past us, screaming at the top of his lungs and trailing a stage curtain behind him. A few seconds later, Destructo almost knocked us over as he chased Wayne down.
Evie nodded. “I see what you mean. Your life is pretty complicated.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” I said.
“There you are!” said Mum, as she, Dad, Jodie and Theo rounded the corner behind us. “We thought you’d eloped.”
“I have no idea what that means,” I admitted.
“Run off to get married,” said Dad.
“God, no,” Evie and I both said at the same time.
Jodie punched me on the arm. “That’s for farting on my pillow,” she said, then she shoved her hands in her pockets and marched ahead. “I’m going to meet Leon.”
“What? Leon’s here?” I said.
Jodie nodded. “He ran down to meet me. We’re going to the cinema.”
“He ran?” I said. “From Aberdeen?”
“Yep!”
I turned to Mum and Dad. “If you’re worried about someone sneaking off to get married, you might want to catch up with Jodie.”
My parents exchanged a worried glance, then set off at a rush. “Jodie! Not so fast…”
Theo, Evie and I stood together, like three points of a triangle. Theo puffed out his cheeks and looked at us both in turn. “So,” he said. “What now?”
What now? It was a good question. For the first time in weeks, I was no longer obsessed with finding Madame Shirley. I was no longer the World’s Greatest Liar, either, but maybe – just maybe – that wasn’t such a bad thing.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. Then I smiled. “But we should probably start by saving Wayne.”
Theo and Evie both gasped, then burst out laughing.
“Come on,” I said, and the three of us ran off in pursuit of Destructo.
Together.
Copyright
STRIPES PUBLISHINGAn imprint of Little Tiger Press, Coda Studios, 189 Munster Road, London SW6 6AW
First published as an eBook by Stripes Publishing in 2018
Text copyright © Barry Hutchison, 2018
Illustrations copyright © Katie Abey, 2018 ISBN: 978–1–78895–004–6
The right of Barry Hutchison and Katie Abey to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved.Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any forms, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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