Buried Alive! (4 page)

IT WAS RAINING
when we woke up the next morning.

‘Sorry, boys,' said Dad at breakfast. ‘It doesn't look like a good day for the beach.'

‘Rats!' I said.

‘Don't use that silly expression, Tim,' said Mum

‘OK. Large twitchy-nosed long-tailed sewer-scavenging rodents!'

‘Now, now. No need to be cheeky,' said Mum.

‘The boy's just upset because he was dying to get on the beach,' said Dad.

I wasn't
that
upset, actually. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to keep right away from the beach for a bit. Just in case the big prickly boy turned up again with his pinch-faced pal.

Biscuits didn't look as if he minded too much either. He was cheerfully chomping up his third sausage.

‘We'll go for a little drive, eh?' said Dad.

‘Yes, let's see if we can find a proper shopping centre,' said Mum.

‘I was thinking of a scenic country tour,' said Dad.

Mum sighed. So we toured the country. And it was very scenic. And very wet. We saw grey sky and grey mountains and grey sea.

Biscuits and I got fed up being in the car. But then we saw some people walking in the wet, mud all up their legs. They were huddled under their anorak hoods, water dripping down their noses. Maybe it wasn't so bad in the car after all.

We played I Spy. Dad chose C for car and Mum guessed it.

Mum chose C for Church and Biscuits guessed it.

Biscuits chose C for Café and I guessed it.

So I wanted to chose a C too, but I couldn't think of one. Then I saw something way in the distance, at the top of a mound. Something I'd studied, though I'd never seen one in real life before. Something that had been standing, grey in the gloom but golden in the sunlight, for hundreds and hundreds of years.

‘I've got one! I spy with my little eye, something beginning with C!'

Dad guessed Clock (inside the car) and Mum guessed Cardigan (on her) and Biscuits guessed Cabbages (in a pongy old field) and I told them to hurry up a bit or we'd be way past it, but Dad turned off right and it was still in sight. We were actually going
towards
my C. When Mum and Dad kept guessing silly things they couldn't possibly see like camels and computers and candlesticks I knew that
they
knew and we were going to look round my special C.

Biscuits still didn't get it.

‘Cake?' he said hopefully.

‘What about C for Chocolate?' said Mum, reaching into her handbag and bringing out a big bar of Cadbury's Dairy Milk. ‘Biscuits?'

‘Wow, thank you!' said Biscuits, thinking he was getting the whole bar to himself.

‘No, dear! Just take a couple of pieces and then pass the bar to Tim. You couldn't possibly eat a whole big bar yourself,' said Mum.

‘I could,' said Biscuits. ‘Bigger bars than this. Easy peasy.'

‘Biscuits's eating powers are phe-nom-en-al,' I said. ‘Hey Biscuits, guess my C, go on.'

‘Cadbury's!' said Biscuits.

‘Your eating powers might be phenomenal,
but you're totally
useless
at I Spy,' I said, elbowing him in his big soft side.

‘Hey, your skinny little elbows aren't half sharp,' said Biscuits, elbowing me back.

‘Hey, your great galumping elbows aren't half hard,' I said, shoving him.

He shoved back and we started a Mega-Wrestle in the back of the car.

‘Boys! Boys! Stop fighting!' Mum shouted.

‘They're only messing about,' said Dad.

‘They'll choke on their chocolate,' said Mum.

‘Anyway, we're here now,' said Dad, pulling up.

‘Here! At my special C word!' I said.

‘Could it possibly be a Crumbling Creaky
Castle
?' Biscuits laughed, and had another big bite of the chocolate bar when Mum wasn't watching.

He winked at me and I winked at him. Then he winked the other eye and I winked my other eye. Then he winked both rapidly so I did too.

‘Tim? Have you got something in your eye, dear? Come here and let me have a look,' said Mum.

‘It's nothing, Mum. Don't keep
fussing
,' I said, getting out the car.

‘This awful rain,' said Mum. ‘You'd better
both come under my umbrella, boys.'

‘Oh Mum, it's only little drops of water,' I said impatiently. ‘Come on, Biscuits-Boy, race you to the top of the tower!'

‘Now slow down, Tim. You're not to rush off up anywhere. Old castles can be very dangerous,' said Mum. ‘Especially when it's all slippery in the wet.
Tim!
'

‘Don't worry,
I'm
not rushing,' said Biscuits.

It took him
ages
and
ages
to get right to the top of the tower. He had to have lots of rests. So did Mum. And even Dad got a bit puffed.

I got to the top FIRST. I've never ever won a proper race before. I'm hopeless going along the ground. I nearly always come last. But I can fly upwards like a rocket. I spread my arms when I was all alone at the top. I stared straight up at the sky, rain pattering on my hot face. I pretended I was really Super-Tim and I'd just whizzed my way over the mountains quick as a wink and now I was waiting to meet up with my trusty companion Biscuits-Boy. Waiting and waiting and waiting.

Biscuits had to sit down when he got to the top. His face was purple.

‘Are you all right, Biscuits?' I asked.

He couldn't catch his breath to speak. He shook his head instead.

‘Why don't you have a biscuit to make you feel better?' I suggested.

‘Don't be silly, Tim, the poor boy might choke,' said Mum.

‘A – little – piece – of – choco – late – might – help,' Biscuits wheezed.

‘I really don't think you ought to eat quite so much chocolate, dear,' said Mum. ‘It's really not very good for you. Hasn't your mother tried to put you on a diet?'

Biscuits's eyes popped in horror.

‘My – mum – says – I – need – to – eat – lots – to – keep – my – strength – up!' he gasped.

‘Yes, dear, but it's being so heavy that makes you so out of breath,' said Mum.

‘Now, now, leave the lad alone. It's not really any of our business,' said Dad. ‘Come and look at this fantastic view.'

‘I don't want to go too near the edge, it makes me feel so dizzy,' said Mum. ‘Don't you go near the edge either, boys.'

I didn't want to go right to the edge of the parapet. I didn't mind at all looking
up
but I knew exactly what it would feel like looking
down
. I went a bit wobbly just thinking about it.

‘It's – perfectly – safe,' said Biscuits, his voice stronger now. He pulled a face at my
mum's back. I hesitated. Then I pulled one too. We both giggled.

‘She doesn't half flap, your mum,' Biscuits whispered.

‘Yes, I know. Flap, flap, flap,' I said.

It felt such
fun
to whisper about my mum – but my heart had started to thump.

Biscuits raised his big arms and flapped them. I flapped mine too.

Mum turned round, hanging on to Dad.

‘What are you two up to?' she called, looking at our rotating arms.

‘We're just pretending to fly, Mum, that's all,' I said quickly.

‘Come on, let's peer over,' said Biscuits.

‘I don't want to,' I said.

‘Look,
I
didn't want to clamber up all those millions and millions of steps so that I practically had a heart attack. But I did. Because you wanted to climb the castle. It's stupid to get right up here and then not even look out. Come on. I want to. So it's only fair that you come too.'

I didn't want to let him down. I knew he was still miffed at my mum. I didn't want him to be miffed at me too. So I took his great plump paw and let him drag me towards the edge of the parapet. It came up to my chin but when I glimpsed the ground far below, the
crumbling bricks seemed only ankle height. One small step and I'd be walking into thin air, tumbling down down down to the distant grey slabs below.

I gave a little gasp and shut my eyes tight.

‘Wow!' said Biscuits. ‘You can see for Mega-Miles, even in the rain. OK, so there's the sea. Which little bay is Llanpistyll? And what about Abercoch? Is it that way – or that?'

‘I'm not sure,' I mumbled, pretending to be peering. I had my hands up near my closed eyes so Biscuits wouldn't suss anything.

‘And can you see that
other
castle? It's huge! It's got
two
towers! And a proper drawbridge and a real moat!' said Biscuits.

‘Where?' I said, opening my eyes. I held on to the edge of the parapet so hard my knuckles nearly sprang straight out of my skin. ‘I can't see any castle!'

‘Funny! Neither can I, now,' said Biscuits, grinning. ‘Must have been a mirage. Still – got you looking, didn't it?'

I stuck my tongue out at him. It wasn't quite so scary now that I was getting used to looking. I liked seeing all the wiggly wavy edges of the coast, just like the maps you do at school. It was weird having an eagle-eye view of the world. I stared at the mustard and cress forests, the saucer-size lake, the pencil
spire of the tiny toy church, the little matchbox caravan sites until my eyes watered.

I started to enjoy looking across.

I still wasn't so keen on looking directly
down
. But old Biscuits was leaning right
over
.

‘Careful, Biscuits!' I said, grabbing him.

‘I'm OK. Don't you start flapping now. Here, what's that jutting out bit with the hole? Is that where they poured boiling oil on the invading army?'

I bent my head, my blood pounding. I saw what Biscuits was looking at and laughed wildly.

‘No, but it would work almost as well! That's their toilet! They'd do it and it would splash right down so if you were walking about underneath it could land right on your head.'

‘
Yuck!
'

We started miming the whole process.

‘What on earth are you two boys up to now?' Mum called. ‘Why are you rubbing your hair like that, Tim?'

‘Oh, I'm just getting a bit wet, that's all,' I said.

‘Well, let's go back down and get in the car,' said Mum. ‘I wonder if there are any toilets nearby? Tim? Biscuits? What are you two boys laughing at now?'

We found the public toilets – modern version – and then got back in the car and did another little scenic tour. Biscuits casually mentioned chocolate once or twice but Mum said it was too near lunchtime.

We drove to Abercoch. It was only drizzling now so we walked along the seafront and had fish and chips out of a packet, all of us sitting on the wet wall. Mum made us put newspaper down first so that we wouldn't get piles. That made us remember this seriously awful sneery-jeery show-off at the adventure holiday place called Giles – only Biscuits called him Piles.

Mum and Dad had take-away cups of tea and we had ice lollies, and then we went for a walk towards the old broken-down pier.

There was a white wooden kiosk near the entrance with all sorts of painted magic symbols round the door and a sign that said
GYPSY ROSE, FORTUNE-TELLER TO THE STARS
.

‘Ooh look,' said Mum. ‘I've always wanted to have my fortune told.'

‘Don't be so wet,' said Dad. ‘It's all a complete con.'

‘No, it's not,' said Mum. ‘You don't know anything about it. Tim, shall I have my fortune told?'

‘Ooh yes, Mum! Can I have my fortune done too?'

‘No dear, it's only for grown-ups.'

‘You don't want to waste your money,' said Dad.

‘Yes I do,' said Mum.

‘She'll just tell you some old rubbish about a romantic encounter with a handsome stranger,' said Dad.

‘That sounds good to me,' said Mum, knocking at the little wooden door. ‘Keep an eye on the boys while I'm in here.'

‘Oh, Mum, can't we come and watch?' I said.

But we had to trail after Dad onto the pier. I hung back.

‘What's up, Tim?' said Biscuits. ‘Look,
I'll
tell your fortune if you like.' He pulled his T-shirt off and tied it round his head like a gypsy scarf. ‘Give me your hand, young man. Aah, what's this I see? An encounter with an
ugly
stranger – one with prickly hair and big boots!'

‘I hope not!' I said, snatching my hand away – even though I knew he was just larking around.

‘Come
on
, you two,' Dad called to us. ‘Biscuits, put your T-shirt on, it's hardly sunbathing weather. And what's up with you, Tim?'

‘I don't like the pier,' I mumbled.

‘What?' said Dad. ‘What are you on about? Let's go and see if the lads fishing have caught anything.'

‘I don't think much of this pier either,' Biscuits said. ‘It's all old and boring. Only one ice-cream stall. They haven't got any doughnuts or rock or burger bars.'