Then Kylie yelled “Mum!” and Bilal yelled “Out!” at exactly the same time, and there on the carpet, beside the wildcat’s gaping jaws, lay a tiny, heart-shaped key.
Quick as a flash Bilal pounced, picked the heart up, sniffed it, and licked his lips. Then, with a loud, and very definite, “In”, he put it into his mouth.
I have never moved so fast in all my life. I lunged across the sleeping bag at Bilal, forced his lips open, and grabbed the heart just before it disappeared down his throat. Then I wiped him down, and held the heart up for Kylie to see.
But Kylie had other things on her mind. She was pulling on her jeans and heading for the door.
“Mum’s hysterical!” she yelled back at me. “Something catastrophic has happened!”
My stomach did a back-flip. Pausing only to deposit a howling Bilal on Nani’s bed, I followed Kylie.
“What’s happened?” I asked her as we ran. “What did your mum say?”
“She was incoherent,” Kylie told me breathlessly. “Said something about ‘that Sniper of mine’ . . . and ‘you’ll never guess what ‘im and ‘is mates’ve gone and done. . . ’ She kept sobbing, Yosser,” she said, finally. “Sobbing fit to burst. . .”
It was like a waking nightmare. I just couldn’t take it in. All the way to Kylie’s house, the most awful images ran round and round in my head.
I saw Germane, holding his mallet aloft and singing the all-too-familiar words, “Bang-bang-bang, an’ it’ll knock ‘em dead!” Then, as I followed Kylie up the garden path, he stopped being Germane and morphed into the man with the pins.
And the man with the pins had the puzzle box –Nani’s puzzle box – in one hand, and the little wooden heart in the other, and he was opening it, and out was flying the Deadly Curse of Samarkand. And even though I still didn’t know what the Deadly Curse of Samarkand actually was, I was suddenly convinced I was about to see it in Kylie’s back garden.
I must have put my hands over my eyes, because all I remember as we went through the gate was hearing lots of barking, and voices singing Happy Birthday, and then a loud cheer and a pop! Then I felt Kylie pulling at my hands, and screaming, “It’s OK, Yosser! It’s OK! You can look!”
And when I did, I honestly, honestly, didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
There, in the middle of the cabbage patch, stood a small, very rickety building made out of long sticks, string and corrugated plastic. It was covered in red heart-shaped balloons, and there was a banner draped across it that said, ‘Happy 40th Brithday, Mum’, in big red letters.
The plastic door was open, and inside you could see wooden shelves supported by empty lager cans. The shelves were stacked high with plant pots and bags of potting compost, and there was a fork, and a trowel, and a pair of cutters, all with pink flowery handles.
On one side of the building, in floods of tears, stood Kylie’s mum, and a very embarrassed Sniper. On the other side stood Kylie’s dad, towered over by Germane and Twista. Germane was holding a foaming bottle of champagne.
When she saw us, Kylie’s mum gave a big sniff and said, “Come on, boys – do your Birthday Rap again for Kylie and Yosser!” and Sniper and Twista and Germane cleared away the Papillons, stood in a line, and, with appropriate movements, they sang:
“If you wanna grow a cabbage or a brussel sprout,
Then you gorra keep the heat in and the greenflies out. . .
So dis ‘ere is da way to make your veg’tables grow good –
It’s da coolest little hothouse in da neighbourhood – Yay!”
When they had finished, Kylie’s mum gave each of them a big kiss, and said it was the happiest day of her entire life. Then Kylie’s dad went and got the camera and took a photo of us all.
Kylie stood beside Sniper for the photo, and I stood on tiptoe between Germane and Twista, and I honestly thought I would burst with happiness.
Auntie Shabnam
The next day we all went to the airport to collect Auntie Shabnam, and by the time we’d squeezed ourselves and three big bouquets of flowers into the car, there was hardly room to breathe.
On the journey, we were all a bit subdued. Nani sat beside me in the back with Bilal on her knee, watching him stick his thumb in his mouth and say “In”, then take it back out and say “Out”. But we hardly spoke.
Now that the big day had finally come, I was nervous as anything. I kept wondering what Auntie Shabnam would be like, and whether she’d really be able to help with the business, and – most of all – whether we’d get on.
I also wondered whether she would approve of her office, which now sported a smoked-glass desk, a state-of-the-art computer, and a day-bed covered in scarlet silk cushions and a deep brown faux-fur throw.
It also sported the wildcat, because we’d fixed its leg and asked Nani if we could have it, and Nani had given a sniff and said that we were welcome. In fact, she’d added, Auntie Shabnam could take it back to Lahore with her, for all she cared.
So we put it on the shelf above the computer, and it looked great with the faux-fur throw.
As for the puzzle box – after the birthday breakfast, Kylie and me finally opened it and (surprise, surprise!) there was no Deadly Curse of Samarkand inside.
There was something inside, though. Something even more beautiful than the box itself. I put it in an envelope, and I put the envelope into my underwear drawer till the time was right to give it back to Nani, and I kept thinking about it.
And the more I thought about it, and about the man who’d shot the wildcat, the more I understood why Nani didn’t like the box from Samarkand. . .
***
The Lahore flight took forever to arrive, and the longer it took, the more nervous I felt. I kept thinking how incredibly clever and high-powered Auntie Shabnam was, and worrying that she might find us a bit dull.
I also suspected she’d be quite glamorous, because Mum had shown me photos of her, and sometimes incredibly glamorous people can be a bit difficult to cope with.
But I needn’t have worried. The minute Auntie Shabnam appeared in the Arrivals Hall, the ‘Auntie Shabnam Worry Factor’ plummeted to zero. She was seriously cool!
She had short black hair, long sparkling earrings and the sunniest smile I’d ever seen, and she was wearing a grey leather jacket, black leather trousers and high-heeled red boots. As soon as she saw us, she made a bee-line for me and gave me a great big hug.
“State-of-the-art jeans, Yosser,” she said, handing me a carrier bag with ‘Dubai’ written on it. “I hope you like them!”
I had a quick peek and boy, did I ever! Then we all squeezed into the car, and Bilal showed Auntie Shabnam his In/Out trick all the way home, and she said he was brilliant, and probably a businessman in the making.
Then we settled her into her office, which she said was ‘just the job’ and, after a special meal, the grown-ups sat down to talk Business Plans.
It all sounded great, especially the interactive website which Auntie Shabnam said would “rocket Farooq’s Fruits into the twenty-first century”, but it had been a long day, and when they got to the health and safety issue I said I thought I’d turn in.
I didn’t get far, though. As I stood up to go, Nani’s foot clamped down heavily on top of mine, and she wiggled her eyebrows meaningfully. I sat back down.
“As I see it,” Auntie Shabnam was saying, “the hygiene issue is paramount. We at Farooq’s Fruits must employ the very latest in antiseptics, anti-bacterials, and hi-tech anti-vermin devices. . .”
She paused and looked over at Nani. “And to that end,” she went on, “I believe Auntie here has a suggestion.”
Nani cleared her throat. “Auntie has indeed,” she said. “It’s the very latest in Vermin Control and it’s called Killer Queen. It’s not too hi-tech yet,” she went on, “but give it a couple of months and it’ll be lethal.”
She turned to me. “Perhaps, Yosser,” she said, “you would be so kind as to fetch it?”
I could see Mum
and Dad were trying hard to keep their faces straight, and as I closed the door I heard a lot of laughter, so I reckoned Nani had already prepared the ground, but still, I said a little prayer as I presented Killer Queen to the committee.
I needn’t have worried, though. They passed her unanimously, and they decided she would stay in the house for the next few weeks, then take up residence in the shop. Which, though not ideal, was a million times better than losing her entirely.
***
Later that night, when Nani came to bed, I handed her the envelope.
“It’s a ring,” I said. “It was in the box from Samarkand.”
Nani looked at the ring for ages. I waited for her to say something, but she didn’t, and perhaps it was just as well. Perhaps some things are better kept secret.
Then, all of a sudden, she brightened right up. She took my hand, winked at me, then slipped the gold ring onto my finger. It fitted exactly. I couldn’t believe it. I’d never had such a precious thing, ever.
“Thank you, Nani-jee,” I said. “It’s perfect.”
Nani gave me a big hug.
“You’re welcome, Yosser,” she said. “And I hope it brings you good fortune.”
Then we settled down to sleep, and as I lay there next to Nani with the Golden Ring from Samarkand on my finger, I realised that, finally, everything was as perfect as it could possibly be.
And you know what? I wasn’t beset by one single, solitary worry.
Not one.
Franzeska G. Ewart
I’ve written over 25 books for children, and I also write for adults. I live in the village of Lochwinnoch, in Scotland, where I enjoy the countryside and wildlife.
For me, writing a children’s book always involves the same processes. Here they are. . .
First, there’s THINKING – what will I write about? I find it helps to look at pictures, and books, and the internet. It also helps to move. My best ideas come when I’m walking or cycling.
I got the idea for There’s a Hamster in my Pocket! from a puzzle box I saw on YouTube. It seemed just the sort of thing Nani would have!
Then, there’s RESEARCHING – finding things out. For There’s a Hamster in my Pocket! I had to find out about puzzle boxes and Papillons. And I also had to watch bits of a really horrible film. . .!
Next, I decide on CHARACTERS. For There’s a Hamster in my Pocket! the new characters were Sniper, Twista and Germane.
I always draw my characters before I write about them, because it helps bring them to life.
Finally, I do a CHAPTER PLAN (that can be tricky!) and then I can get down to the actual WRITING. And that is the best part of all!
Writing can be a lonely business but, as you can see, my two cats – Lily and her son The Woozle – are with me every step of the way!
Read more about Yosser and Kylie’s adventures in Sita, Snake Queen of Speed by Franzeska G. Ewart
When Yosser’s best friend, Kylie, comes back from Thrill City she is full of amazing stories about the best ride there – Sita, Snake-Queen of Speed! Yosser knows that she MUST go on the ride . . . but how? An opportunity presents itself when Kylie’s dad’s prize ferret, Thunderball Silver the Third, mysteriously goes missing just days before the Grand Ferret Championships. Will Yosser and Kylie find a way to catch the ferret-thief and earn enough money to make their dreams come true?
“A simple story of friendship.”
Kirkus Reviews
Praise for Franzeska G. Ewart:
“Sensitive and funny.”
The Guardian
There's a Hamster in my Pocket Page 5