Spies, Dad, Big Lauren and Me

by Joanna Nadin

  Dear Dad

  Mum is marrying Dave STOP Come and stop it STOP

  Love Billy

  STOP means full stop and you have to write it out in case the dot is mistaken for just a mark and the sentences don’t make sense any more. I didn’t have room for anything else because there wasn’t much lemon left over after Pancake Day, and also the brush was the big one because the others were clogged up with pink paint which is Stan’s favourite.

  I didn’t need to look up Dad’s address because I know it off by heart. It’s 65 Chadwick Heights, London SE3 3PR. I didn’t write that with invisible ink. Because the postman probably doesn’t know about invisible ink and would think it’s a blank envelope and put it in the bin. But Dad will know. All spies do. It’s like lesson number one at MI5. I posted the letter straight away so it’ll get there tomorrow or Wednesday. Mum asked why I needed a stamp and I said it was a competition in the Broadley Echo to win a trip to Africa. I crossed my fingers when I said it. But spies are allowed to lie if it’s for the Greater Good. That’s what Zac Black says.

  Tuesday

  3rd June

  Dad didn’t come down the M4 today. But that’s because, statistically, the chance of my letter arriving this morning is only 92.4 per cent. It would be better if I had a carrier pigeon or something because they don’t stick to train timetables and post rounds but it doesn’t matter because there are still thirty-two days to go before the WEDDING.

  And it was a good day because Nan picked us up from school and she lets us have the telly on the whole time and sausage sandwiches for tea. When it’s Dave, he makes us do our homework straight away and then play outside so we don’t become couch potatoes like Big Lauren and have to have special diets, and he only does vegetarian tea because he won’t touch meat with his fingers, not even with kitchen gloves on.

  Plus Nan’s house is excellent for spying. Her chair is right next to the window and she has net curtains that she can see out of but nobody can see in through. She watches through them all day and is always seeing interesting stuff for me to write down. Like she saw Mickey O’Leary, who’s Jade-Marie’s dad, riding a Barbie bike down the pavement, and Nan reported him to the police because it might be stolen. But it turned out he was testing out the stabilisers for Jade-Marie and that’s not illegal. Nan said it should be because if she’d been on the pavement he could have knocked her into next-door’s garden. She also saw Denise from the launderette kissing Mr Wrigley (who isn’t married to Denise, he is married to Mrs Wrigley) in the front of his red Vauxhall Astra. She reported that too, but that’s not illegal either. Nan says society has gone downhill since her day. She has never kissed anyone but Grandpa Stokes, who’s dead, and her cat Dolly, who’s named after her favourite singer Dolly Parton, even though he’s a boy. Dolly has grey hair, a bit like Nan, and eats cornflakes and is always running away. Once he got on the number 12a bus to Yate. He didn’t even have a ticket. Nan went mad at the driver when she found out and said why didn’t he tell him to get off? But the driver said he looked like he knew where he was going. Dave said Nan should let Dolly go if he’s that determined to be free. Nan told me to write that down as it’s another sign that Dave is ‘no good’. Nan leaves the telly on now to keep Dolly occupied and not thinking about going up Beasley Street to the bus stop.

  When we got there, Dolly was watching Deal or No Deal on telly. Nan says he likes Noel Edmonds. Stan watched telly with Dolly but I watched out the window. I asked Nan if she had seen anything unusual. She said, ‘Jade-Marie has got new trainers and she only got the last pair six months ago so what is she doing with them, that’s what I’d like to know. And that man at number twenty-three is at it again.’ (She means Mr A M Feinstein. I know that’s his name, because once his post got delivered to our house, which is also number twenty-three, but on Brunel Street. I’ve got a whole section on him in my logbook because his name is foreign and he might be an agent for another country, disguised as a normal old man.) Anyway, I said, ‘At what?’ And she said, ‘Peering.’ He knocks on her door and, when she doesn’t answer, he peers in through her net curtains. She thinks he might be a burglar looking for security weaknesses. He has no chance. Nan has four locks on the front door and he’s too big to get through Dolly’s cat flap. I said I would note it down and investigate. What I’m going to do is try to see inside his house, to see if it’s his headquarters or lair. Mortal enemies have lairs. They’re usually caves or dungeons, with tanks of man-eating sharks and stuff, but Mr A M Feinstein might have disguised his as a normal house. I’m just waiting for a good time to do it. Nan says he goes out every Sunday morning for three hours at quarter past ten, but that’s when I am supposed to be at football practice. Football was Dave’s idea to help me make friends with boys, i.e. not Big Lauren, but I’m rubbish at it and every time I miss the ball Preston Bates in Year 6 says, ‘Loser,’ and once he kicked my head. He said it was by mistake instead of the football but our football is fluorescent orange.

  When we got home Mum and Dave were back and were writing a wedding list. Nan said Mum already has plates and a toaster but Mum said it would be nice to have a fresh start with new things. It’s because Dave doesn’t like the plates. Not because of the pattern, which is just totally white, but because they’re Dad’s plates. He chose them in Ikea. Mum wanted ones with clovers on the edge from John Lewis but Dad said plain was best because it was cheaper and if we broke one, like the time I dropped mine on the patio because we were eating barbecued burgers and a wasp landed on my arm, it only cost 99p to replace it. There are only three left now, so Stan has a plastic Power Rangers plate. But they’re all going to go to the charity shop with the Welcome to Bournemouth teapot, and the chipped blue vase. But not the toaster, because they won’t take electrical goods for safety reasons.

  They’re getting rid of everything for the fresh start. Like, instead of the photo of Dad on Snowdon on the fireplace, there’s one of Mum and Dave in Cornwall last year. And I thought maybe they’re planning to get rid of me and Stan too, and have new children who’ll be vegetarian and shorter than average and want to be nurses instead of spies. And when I thought about that I could feel the electricity again, but then I remembered that it doesn’t matter anyway. Because if everything goes to plan then Dad will be here tomorrow. And then it will all be back to normal.

  Wednesday

  4th June

  Dad didn’t come. When I got back from school his car (which is a metallic green Volkswagen Golf Mark II F registration) wasn’t in the drive and I asked Mum if there had been any phone calls, but she said only the caterers for the wedding, which is actually Mrs Peason from Peason’s Bakery, and why did I want to know anyway? I said it was in case the Broadley Echo called about the competition. Which is another lie, but I still think it’s for the Greater Good. Mum said not to get my hopes up.

  She’s always telling me not to get my hopes up. Like at Christmas two years ago when I thought Dad might send me an Alsatian puppy that I could train to be a sniffer dog, and actually it was an Incredibles lunchbox with a picture of Dash on it, which Kyle Perry kicked over the infants’ climbing frame because he said it was for girls, and the handle fell off.

  My hopes are not up now, so Mum will be pleased. It’s because I checked on Google and the invisible ink letter is possibly one of the 14.6 million letters that are lost or stolen every year. So now I have to think of another plan. Zac Black says you should always have a Plan B ready in case Plan A doesn’t work. I forgot about that.

  Thursday

  5th June

  We’re doing a new project at school. It’s all about tolerance and respect for other people, even if they’re not in the same religion or school, or support Chelsea instead of Rovers, like Stephen Warren (who drank ink because Kyle Perry made him and his sick was blue). Stan’s class is doing Islam, which is what Arthur Malik believes in. But our class is doing World War Two. World War Two was last century when Nan was only just born, and was because Hitler, who had a moustache a
bit like Mr Baxter who is the school cleaner, didn’t like the Jews being in Germany. The Jews believed in God but they didn’t believe in Jesus, and didn’t have blond hair like other Germans, so Hitler tried to get rid of them, but England and America and possibly France stopped him.

  The best bit is that there were loads and loads of spies in World War Two. They went to Germany disguised as actual Germans with blond hair, and looked for weaknesses and then used them to plot Hitler’s downfall. And that is what I’m going to do. I’m going to look for Dave’s weaknesses and then use them to PLOT HIS DOWNFALL. Then Mum will see he’s totally hopeless and will beg Dad to come back and live here again. So tomorrow I’m going to go and buy a new DOWNFALL notebook from WHSmith after school.

  Friday

  6th June

  Today Miss Horridge let us build an air raid shelter in the hall. An air raid shelter is where people in cities like London and Bristol, which is near here, had to hide when the Germans dropped bombs on their houses. It’s lucky there isn’t a war now because Dad lives in a loft, which is the top of a building and would be bombed first of all. But probably he wouldn’t be there because he’d be in Germany spying anyway. We had to use ‘materials around us’, because that’s what they used in World War Two, so we used the crash mats and two of the dinner tables (which have tops that swing up so they store easily and Kyle Perry swung it once in lunch and everyone’s pizza and beans went all over the floor). Then we all got inside in turns, which was brilliant until the table swung down and hit Big Lauren on the head and she had to go to Miss Butterworth, who’s the school secretary, and go in the accident book, and Kyle Perry had to go and see Mr Braithwaite who’s our headmaster and is called Wing Nuts because his ears stick out like wing nuts, and get told off.

  I haven’t got a new exercise book though because Mum said we couldn’t go into town after school because Arthur Malik was coming to tea and him and Stan didn’t want to traipse around the shops, they wanted to play Buckeroo, so I’ve made a new section in my logbook instead. I’ve got two whole pages for Weaknesses and a page each for Plan A and Plan B because this time I’m going to be ready for anything. They should actually be Plan B and Plan C, because Plan A was the invisible ink, but I decided to start again and pretend I didn’t do the invisible ink so that it’s neater. I haven’t written anything in them yet, because I couldn’t actually do any surveillance on Dave because he was on a late shift at the hospital and wasn’t going to get back until I was in bed. So instead I wrote down an observation about Mr A M Feinstein, because on the way home I saw him wearing a really long grey coat, even though it is twenty-three degrees outside, according to our school thermometer. Probably he is hiding spy equipment under it. Or burgled things like a DVD player or a computer. Or maybe he’s even an alien like in Zac Black in Space. Anyway, I’ve written it down, i.e. put it on paper. Because I don’t trust anyone.

  Not Mr A M Feinstein. And definitely not Dave.

  Saturday

  7th June

  The wedding is in exactly four weeks, i.e. twenty-eight days. It’s marked in a big red ring on Mum’s Great British Buildings calendar that Nan gave her for Christmas. This month is the Clifton Suspension Bridge, which was built by Isambard Kingdom Brunel which is the street that we live on. Next month, i.e. wedding month, is Salisbury Cathedral which has the tallest church spire in England. It is one hundred and twenty-three metres. Mum says it’s a sign. Even though they aren’t getting married in a church, they’re getting married at Broadley Registry Office on Park Road, in between the Post Office and Kwiksave.

  Dave checked on the internet this morning and statistically it will not rain according to BBC Weather because this hot spell is set to continue until the end of July, which is bad news for gardeners, but good news for weddings. But anyway, it won’t be happening in a registry office, rain or no rain, because I’m going to PLOT HIS DOWNFALL. All I need to do is spot his weaknesses and then attack.

  I told Big Lauren about the DOWNFALL and the weaknesses. She came round because her mum and Alan were taking Jordan to Zany Zone and she didn’t want to go in case she’s still concussed from the table. Lauren says her stepdad Alan’s weaknesses are Staffordshire Bull Terriers (which people think are pit bulls but they’re actually not) and his right ankle, which he broke when he fell off his Yamaha motorbike, and that her weaknesses are Mars Bars and Burger King Whoppers, only without the onion. I said Dave doesn’t eat Whoppers because he is a vegetarian. And Lauren said, ‘Well that is his weakness then.’ Which is true. So I wrote that one down. Then Lauren said she would be an excellent assistant as she has already done one weakness and she’s got a digital camera and that we could be a detective agency and spy on philandering husbands, which means ones like Mr Wrigley who kiss people they shouldn’t, and make a fortune. I said she’d have to have a disguise though, because she’s quite noticeable when she is out because her hair is ginger and long and she normally wears pink flip flops, which make a noise when she walks. She said she would put wellies and her I’ve Seen the Lions of Longleat baseball cap on, which is what Kylie does when she doesn’t want to be recognised. Only not a Longleat one. I don’t think she has seen those particular lions, she’s too busy singing songs in a leotard.

  Lauren said we should start tomorrow, and then I remembered about casing Mr A M Feinstein’s house in case it’s his lair, so I said to meet me at the corner of Beasley Street at ten-fifteen precisely, in her disguise, and to bring her digital camera.

  Sunday

  8th June

  I didn’t go to Mr A M Feinstein’s house. Dave made me go to football instead. I said I’d walk there on my own, because then I could just go to Beasley Street once I got round the corner and put my disguise on, which is my Rovers hat, but Dave said he had a free morning because his five-a-side is off and his shift doesn’t start until half past two, and anyway he wanted to watch. This is a LIE. I know this because I heard him tell Dave Two, who’s also on his five-a-side team, that he couldn’t come today because he had ‘kid stuff’ to do, and Donny Death, a.k.a. Donny Walker who works in the morgue, would have to play instead, i.e. he is pretending to be nice and interested in me even though he’s actually only interested in Mum.

  Then I remembered that Zac Black said you need to keep your friends close and your enemies closer, so I thought it was actually quite good because Dave’s an enemy and I could use the time to spot another weakness. But all that happened is that he stood about on the sidelines and shouted stuff like, ‘Run, Billy’ and ‘Shoot, Billy, for God’s sake, shoot!’ And then I tripped over my own foot and got substituted and Preston Bates called me a knob when I walked off the pitch.

  On the way home Dave said, ‘You’re fine, Billy. You just need to keep your eye on the ball more, like Wayne Rooney.’ I said, ‘I do keep my eye on the ball, just not the football.’ He said, ‘That sounds mysterious, Billy.’ And I said, ‘I am mysterious.’ And he laughed. But I didn’t smile, even though it was a bit funny. Because he might think it’s my weakness and use it to win me over and brainwash me into liking him or something. But when we got home I discovered his Weakness Number Two anyway.

  It was at lunch, which was shepherd’s pie with vegetarian mince, and Dave said, ‘Save mine for later, Jeanie. If I don’t get going, the Sister of No Mercy’ – who is Ward Sister Hawkins who has a moustache even though she is a woman – ‘is going to lose it, and I’m already in trouble over last Saturday,’ which was when he was late because Stan had put his car keys in the microwave. And then I knew what his Weakness Number Two was. It’s the Sister of No Mercy. And now I can do my Plans, once I have thought out all the details, because Zac Black says it’s all about details.

  I would have done the details after lunch but instead Nan came over and we went to the park so Stan could run about, because if he doesn’t do loads of exercise Mum says he’s like a caged monkey. Anyway, me and Nan sat on the roundabout while Stan ran around madly with Arthur Malik, and Nan said why was Lauren
Hooten standing around on Beasley Street in her wellies and a Longleat cap for two hours. And then I felt a bit sick because I forgot to tell Big Lauren not to wait for me. But I didn’t tell Nan that. I said I didn’t know. Which is lie number at least THREE. Nan said it looked fishy to her and maybe she’s an accomplice for someone, or just mental.

  But she isn’t. She’s my loyal assistant. And I’m going to have to say sorry.

  Monday

  9th June

  I said sorry to Big Lauren at school and gave her my Curly Wurly, which is only one hundred and seventeen calories, plus lots of the chocolate falls off so it’s probably even less. But she wasn’t that angry because she saw Stephen Warren’s big brother Luke reverse his car into Mr Wrigley’s red Vauxhall Astra and then drive off without leaving a note, and she’s put it down in her detective agency book, (which is her Disney Princess notebook that she got for Christmas from Jordan). Also she got a new hamster yesterday from Petworld. I asked her if she saw anything suspicious at Mr A M Feinstein’s house and she said no he just went out in a coat, and I said, ‘Aha, but why is he wearing a coat in June?’ And she said, ‘Maybe he’s just a cold person, like my Auntie Carla who wears socks in bed.’ And I said, ‘No, that’s the obvious answer, but what about if he’s a burglar and is hiding stolen goods or something?’ Big Lauren said, ‘Maybe the obvious answer is the right answer.’ And I thought maybe she’s not such a brilliant and loyal assistant after all. But it’s not like in Zac Black, where the first Angelica Drew left after ten episodes so she could be in Star Trek, and he got a new one, and everyone pretended it was the same person even though they had different hair and one was slightly Chinese. I don’t have another Big Lauren. Not even one with different hair or Chinese. So I’ll have to make do. So I told her about the Sister of No Mercy weakness and Lauren said she would come over after school to help do the details.