How Kirsty Jenkins Stole the Elephant (9 page)

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Chapter 21

Kirsty wiped her eyes and threw the tissue on to her bedroom floor. She wasn't going to cry! No way! This wasn't over yet. She was going to keep her promise to Grandad. She was so close! The allotment was so nearly hers. Well, it was Katy Jennings' and that was close enough. She wasn't going to give up yet. If Mum called Mr Thomas tomorrow then it would all be over. She had to stop Mum from calling the council. That would buy some time at least until the weekend when Ben and Dawn would be around to help.

Could she cut the phone wires? She wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but it was what murderers did in the movies to stop their victims calling the police. Kirsty imagined herself dressed in black, climbing up the telegraph pole, a pair of pliers in one hand and an evil laugh in her throat. No, it was no good. She wouldn't know which wires to cut. She'd probably electrocute herself.

But what about the phone itself though? Could she break that? Hitting it with a hammer would probably do the trick. Mum might guess it was her though. She shouldn't smash it up; she should disable it. That was the word. As soon as Mum was in bed, the phone was history. Kirsty smiled again, the tears all gone.

‘I'm just calling you so I can look at the phone,' Kirsty said.

‘What?' Ben answered.

‘I just need to look at it. What do you think the screw does on the bit you hold?'

‘I dunno. What are you going on about?'

‘I bet it's important. They don't put screws in if they're not important do they?'

‘Kirsty. This is the weirdest phone call I've ever had.'

‘Good. I'll see you tomorrow. We have to talk.' Kirsty hung up

It was easy to stay awake that night. It was easy to wait for proper, silent and still darkness. At midnight, Kirsty got out of bed slowly, so it wouldn't creak. She reached for the screwdriver she had hidden under the bed. Got it. She crept out of the room into the dark hall. The James Bond music started in her head – dum di-di dum, dum; dum, di-di dum, dum. She pressed her back to the wall, listening for other secret agents. There was silence, but there was no knowing how many booby traps were laid for her. Each step was careful and precise. She was grateful now for the special stealth catsuit M had given her back at the lab; she would only show up as a strange bit of distortion on the security feeds. Good job too that the screwdriver could shoot tranquiliser darts.

Down the stairs, into the hall. Still total silence. A sliver of light came in through the window in the front door. This was too easy. There should at least have been guard dogs. She reached the phone and lifted the receiver. The burr of the dial tone sounded loud in the hallway. Her heart rate picked up. Enemy forces might be alerted any second. She worked quickly. Soon the screw was out and the phone fell open in her hands. Inside the receiver there was a jumble of wires and two small disks about the size of a fifty pence piece. They looked important. Kirsty was sure the phone wouldn't work without them. It took just a few seconds for her to pop out the connecting wire and the disks came free. She fitted the phone back together and tightened the screw. Mission accomplished.

She was back in her room in an instant – no alarms sounded, no warning shots were fired. And the phone was out of commission.

Friday

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Chapter 22

After school, Kirsty came home to find Mum in the front garden. She was wrapped up in Dad's big winter coat, watching the birds.

‘Hi, Mum.'

‘Hello, love. Nice day?' Mum sounded distracted, as though she wasn't thinking about Kirsty at all.

‘I suppose. You?'

‘I suppose. The phone's broken. I asked your dad to mend it, but . . .' She pulled the edges of the coat tighter around herself. ‘At least Dad's customers can't get through. Honestly, some of them, it's like kitchen cabinets are a matter of life or death.'

‘Mum,' Kirsty said slowly. ‘Is everything OK?'

Kirsty looked at Mum square on, their eyes locking for a second. Kirsty wasn't sure what she saw in Mum's eyes. Sadness, worry, anger? It was like a mix of all of them. Then it was gone.

‘Of course it is, love. I think I'll have to get an engineer for that dratted phone.' Mum looked at the birds again. ‘They'll be making their nests before long,' she said. ‘Go on indoors. Your brother and sister will be here soon.'

‘Half—,' Kirsty stopped. She was going to say half-sister, but she didn't quite want to. She smiled a little at herself, then went inside.

Ben and Dawn arrived just before tea. There was no time to talk. Kirsty was desperate to tell them just what had been happening, but Mum was there all the time. Kirsty forced down her baked potato as fast as she could. When the meal was over she grabbed Ben's arm and pulled him out of his chair. ‘We'll wash up,' Kirsty said. ‘And Dawn can dry. Why don't you go and put your feet up, Mum?'

‘Washing up without being asked! Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?'

‘Very funny, Mum.' Kirsty shoved some plates into Ben's hands and steered him into the kitchen. Moments later Dawn arrived, carrying the salt and pepper.

‘From your crazy behaviour I guess we have a problem?' Dawn asked.

Kirsty turned the taps on full. The pipes clanged and banged noisily. She looked back into the living room. Mum had switched on the telly.

‘Shh,' Kirsty whispered. ‘Yes, we have a problem. Mum's going to ring the council and tell them they made a mistake. I broke the phone, but she'll get it fixed. I reckon on Monday the whole thing is going to blow.'

‘What do you mean “blow”?' Ben asked, splashing plates into the water. Dawn banged an oven tray loudly.

‘I mean,
KABOOM
. Explosion, mushroom cloud. I mean the council and Mum will find out what we did and the whole thing will blow up. We'll be grounded. For ever.'

Ben nodded slowly. ‘I see. You're right.
Kaboom
. What are we going to do?'

‘Think,' Kirsty said with determination. ‘We think all night if we have to.'

Kirsty thought all evening. But nothing came to her. Every time she tried to imagine a way out of this mess, she found herself thinking about Dad. Grandad was already gone, his allotment was going and it felt like Dad had left too. But he was just in his room! As she cleaned her teeth before bedtime, she thought about it some more. How could someone be there but at the same time it feel as though they were a million miles away?

It made her cross.

She spat the toothpaste into the sink and rinsed the brush.

It wasn't fair of him to be like this.

She put the brush back in its holder.

He shouldn't be like this. He was her
dad
.

Kirsty opened the bathroom door, but instead of turning left to go to her room, she turned right. Towards Dad's room. She could hear the sound of the TV on downstairs; Mum and Dawn and Ben were watching something noisy. Mum wouldn't hear her going into Dad's room.

‘Dad?' she said.

The room was dark and smelled funny, like the air had been breathed too often. Dad was just a shape in the gloom. He shouldn't be in here like this – it was all wrong!

‘Dad?' Kirsty walked closer to the bed.

The shape under the duvet shifted, turning over to face her. ‘Kirsty? Is that you?' Dad's voice was hardly more than a croak.

Suddenly her anger evaporated, as though it had never even been. She felt her eyes sting with tears. It was like visiting Grandad all over again. Kirsty wanted to rush over and crawl in next to him, to give him a tight hug, the kind he used to give her when she was upset.

But she couldn't.

He still felt too far away, even though she was in the same room as him.

‘Kirsty, what do you want?' Dad's voice was flat and dull.

‘I wanted to say goodnight.'

‘Goodnight,' he said.

‘Are you getting up tomorrow?' Kirsty asked quietly.

Dad didn't speak; the sound of the TV coming from downstairs seemed loud in Kirsty's ears. Then Dad said, ‘Go to bed, Kirsty.'

Kirsty backed away. It was as though Dad was turning into a stranger.