by Lou Kuenzler
“Is what true?” I said, as if I didn’t know what he was going to say. I’d seen him scuttling about in the car park when we first arrived. Tiffany was still moaning on and on about the day she’d had and how it was all my FAULT!
“Is it true that you ran away from the roller-coaster ride?” Ratty-Riley grinned.
“No!” I said. “I didn’t run anywhere.”
“That’s not what I heard your sister say!” sniggered Riley. “I heard big brave Violet Potts cried like a baby.”
“I didn’t cry,” I said. “I just didn’t fancy going on the ride, that’s all.” There was no way that I was going to tell him that I’d shrunk.
“Ha!” Riley’s grin was huge now. He sucked air through the gap in his teeth. “I thought it was your ‘life ambition’ to go on That’s what you said in that boring story you read out in class. ‘If I had three wishes, I’d wish for three rides on Plunger!,’ that’s what you said.”
“Well, I’ve changed my mind,” I snapped. “If I had three wishes now, I’d wish that you’d be squashed by a rhino, Riley Paterson!”
“That’s only one wish!” said Riley.
He thinks he’s so clever!
“OK, OK! I wish you’d be squashed by a rhino, chewed up by a tiger … and then swallowed by a shark!”
“Riley, dear,” said Gran in her sweetest, most helpless old-lady voice. “Why don’t you nip down to the kitchen and see if you can find us some nice biscuits. There’s a good lad.”
“Why me?” said Riley. “Why can’t Vi—”
“See if they’ve got of any of those pink ones,” said Gran. “You know … the pink wafers. They’re my favourite. I’ve got a terrible sweet tooth!”
Riley had no choice but to go. “All right, Mrs Short,” he said as Gran held out an empty saucer.
As soon as he’d gone, Gran picked up a magazine and looked at the word search puzzle. She was pretending to concentrate but I knew she was going to say something. I knew she’d got rid of Ratty-Riley on purpose.
“Of course, it’s none of my business,” she said at last, “but you shouldn’t let him do that, you know.”
“Do what?” I asked.
Gran circled a word in her puzzle. “Don’t let him make you angry, Violet! Don’t let him make you feel small!”
“I don’t feel small,” I said. “I just… It doesn’t matter.” I picked at the seam on my jeans. I love Gran, but there was no point in telling her how I really felt. She’d be just like everyone else in the family. She’d either laugh at me or call me a liar. There was no point in telling her that it wasn’t feeling small that was my problem. It was being small that was upsetting me. Shrinking to the same size as a to be precise.
“I do know how it is,” said Gran. She put down her magazine and gently lifted my chin. “I know exactly how it is, pet.” She tilted my head so that I had to look up at her. “Sometimes, when I was your age, I used to feel very small.”
Gran held up her finger and it. “Sometimes I felt tiny – no more than a few inches tall. Fancy that. Eh?” she winked.
I stared straight into Gran’s twinkling blue eyes. Was she trying to tell me something? It seemed almost as if she knew that I’d shrunk.
But that was silly. How could she know? All I’d said was that I didn’t ride on
Gran leant forward and squeezed my hand. “I’m glad we’re having this chat, Violet. There’s a little something you should know…”
“A little something?” my voice had gone quiet and croaky, almost a whisper.
“Yes,” said Gran. “You see, the thing is, I—”
But just then, the door bnanged open and Riley scurried back in with a plate of custard creams. “The thing is,” said Gran quickly, “I’ve had far too many biscuits already. A little can go a very long way, I find. Don’t you, Violet?”
“Are we really talking about biscuits, Gran?” I hissed, as Riley turned his back to gobble a custard cream. I had to ask her straight out. “Are we talking about biscuits … or people? TINY LITTLE PEOPLE?”
But Gran just smiled and called Riley over. “Weren’t there any pink ones, dear?” she said. “I’m not very fond of custard creams.”
Then, just when I thought she wouldn’t say anything else, Gran turned and whispered something to me. She spoke so fast and so low that I almost didn’t catch what she saying.
It was only a minute after she’d finished speaking that what she told me actually sank in.
“Don’t worry, Violet,” she whispered. “When I was your age, I was a shrinker too.”
The following Saturday, I drove Tiff mad by staying locked in the bathroom all afternoon.
“Shrink!” I commanded, staring hard at my reflection. “Come on, Violet! SHRINK!” It was almost exactly a week since I’d shrunk in the queue. (And a week since I’d last seen Gran.) She was the only person who believed me about shrinking but we had never got to finish our conversation.
As soon as she’d told me she used to shrink too, Mum and Dad and Tiffany had come in. Tiffany was all giggly because Sean the gardener had picked her a rose.
So now I’d asked Mum if I could visit the Sunset Retirement Centre later this evening. I love having supper with the old ladies – they always have pizza or burgers on a Saturday night … not a green vegetable in sight! More than anything, though, I wanted to spend time with Gran and hear about her shrinking adventures from long ago.
“SHRINK!” I tried again. I wriggled my toes, hoping they’d start to tingle. But still nothing happened.
I admit it, when I shrank at the theme park, I was It all happened so fast – there I was, a tiny little squashable thing! I didn’t think I’d ever grow back to my normal size. But now, I was desperate to give it another go. Think of all the cool things I could do if I was tiny again.
I could climb inside Mum’s bedside locker. I’d secretly nibble the stash of hidden chocolate she thinks we don’t know about – a single square would be like a family-size bar to me. (But my tooth marks would be so tiny, they’d blame it on mice!)
Then I could sneak into Tiffany’s handbag and spy on her when she goes out with her friends. That would be pretty boring, actually – but I could Tiff later, by threatening to tell Mum everything I’d seen.
And I could hide in Dad’s pocket when he does his sponsored parachute jump next week. That would be He does it every year with people from the computer company where he works. They skydive from an aeroplane to raise money for charity. I’ve been asking for ages if I can have a go too, but everyone always says I’m too little. Ha! Well, there’s no such thing as too little if you’re so tiny that no one even knows you’re there!
The trouble is, no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t manage to shrink again.
“COME ON!” I peered into the mirror for the hundredth time.
There must be something special that sparks the shrinking off. That was of the questions I wanted to ask Gran as soon as I saw her tonight.
But, as it turned out, I didn’t get the chance to ask any questions at all.
When I finally arrived at the retirement centre, the first person I saw was Riley Raterson – Paterson. He was stealing peanuts from the snack table in the lounge. Honestly, if he actually had whiskers and a tail, I’d call a rat catcher to get rid of him!
“Are you here to see your grandma?” he asked, his cheeks stuffed full of nuts. “Better make the most of it before she gets sent to
“Prison? Why would anyone want to send Gran to prison?”
“Because she’s a thief!” said Riley. “Everyone knows it!” And with that he scuttled away.
What was he talking about? Gran wasn’t a thief. But from the way Riley’s grandmother and some of the other old folks in the lounge were looking at me – their noses turned up as if I’d trodden in dog poo – something odd was definitely going on.
I towards Gran’s room to find out.
“Hello, Mr Gupta!” I cried as I passed him in the corridor. “Do y
ou know where my gran is?”
Mr Gupta is ancient! He looks about six hundred and fifty years old and has hardly any teeth. But he’s one of my favourite residents. Whenever he sees me, he gives me a mint humbug. (They’re always covered in fluff from his pocket, but I don’t care.)
Today, he didn’t even offer me a sweet. He just looked worried and shook his head.
“I haven’t seen your grandmother anywhere,” he said. “But when you find her, tell her … tell her I don’t believe a word of it. Tell her she still has friends in this place.”
“Wait. What do you mean? Don’t believe a word of what?”
“It’s up to her to explain,” said Mr Gupta. “I’m certain it’s all some terrible mistake.”
He hurried away on his walking frame.
Gran wasn’t in her room. I finally found her alone in the greenhouse, watering the tomato plants.
“Oh, Violet,” she said. “It’s terrible. They searched our rooms.”
“Who searched your rooms?”
“The nurses.” A tear rolled down Gran’s face. I’d only ever seen her cry once before. (But they were tears of laughter when Dad was chased by an angry goose.)
“What’s the matter?” I asked. “Riley said something about people calling you a thief! But Mr Gupta says he doesn’t believe a word of it. He says to tell you he’s still your friend.”
“He’s a kind man.” Gran wiped her eyes and turned back to the tomato plants.
“But they found it!” she said. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Found what?” I tried to get her to look at me but she wouldn’t turn round.
“Mrs Paterson’s diamond ring,” she said. “It went missing. And they just found it. Hidden in my room!”
Bridget, the pretty red-haired nurse at Sunset, helped me tuck Gran into bed for an early night.
“Don’t you go worrying yourself now, Mrs Short,” she said in her kind, rolling voice. “We’ll get to the bottom of why that stolen ring was in your room, I’m sure of it.”
But Gran knew that the retirement centre was full of whispers. She curled herself into a ball and closed her eyes. There was no point asking her anything about our shrinking secret tonight. I could see she was far too upset about being accused of stealing to think of anything else.
“Best let her rest,” whispered Nurse Bridget.
“But why would anyone think Gran stole the ring?” I asked as we down the hall. “Surely it got in her room by mistake?”
“There’s a lot of valuable things been going missing,” said Nurse Bridget. “Especially on the days when your grandma does Plant Patrol.”
“Plant Patrol? What’s that?”
“The old folks take it turns to do jobs for one another,” Nurse Bridget explained. “Like going out to the postbox or picking up things from the chemist. Your gran’s on Plant Patrol this month. That means she pops into everyone’s rooms to water their pot plants and flowers.”
“She does love plants,” I said.
“Then the Collins sisters lost a pair of pearl earrings each,” said Nurse Bridget.
I gasped. The old Collins twins, Cora and Dora, are two of Gran’s closest friends. They all go to the theatre together – they’re about musicals and sit in the front row singing along at the top of their voices.
“And Mr Gupta lost his gold watch,” said Nurse Bridget. “All on the days when your grandma was watering their plants. Of course, no one really believed she was the thief… Not until we searched the retirement centre and Mrs Paterson’s ring was found in your grandma’s room.”
“But Mrs Paterson could have dropped the ring,” I said. I remembered how she’d come into Gran’s room with Riley. “She was in there last weekend. To fetch Barry Bling.”
“Mrs Paterson never wears the ring. The diamonds are too precious. She keeps it locked away in her room,” said Nurse Bridget. She laid her hand on my shoulder. “That’s part of the problem, I’m afraid. The key to her drawer was hidden under the plant your grandma waters.”
I cried. Surely Nurse Bridget didn’t really believe Gran was guilty.
“I’m sure she wouldn’t.” Nurse Bridget shook her head. “But the ring was found hidden in a mug, on your grandma’s dressing table, right in front of her mirror.”
My breath caught in my throat. “Her mug? I gave her that.” The handle smashed when I was bouncing on Gran’s bed one day. She refused to throw the mug away. She couldn’t drink out of it any more, but she kept all her little trinkets and treasures inside.
“That’s exactly where she would keep a ring,” I gasped.
“Don’t look so worried now.” Nurse Bridget ruffled my hair. “I’m sure your grandma didn’t take it. Just as soon as she’s had a bit of rest, I’m sure she’ll explain.”
“I hope so,” I said. “I just know she wouldn’t have done this.”
“I wish I could turn invisible,” smiled Nurse Bridget. “I’d creep about and listen at keyholes. That way, I’d find out what was really going on!”
OF COURSE! YOU’RE I threw my arms round Nurse Bridget’s plump waist.
“Now what’s got into you?” she laughed.
“Nothing,” I shrugged. But a tiny little plan had started to form in my mind. I couldn’t turn invisible, like Nurse Bridget had suggested. But if I could make myself shrink, I might just manage the next best thing!
I was up early next morning.
“Poor Gran,” said Mum, nervously on a slice of grapefruit. It’s what she always eats for breakfast. Milky cereal disagrees with her. “The nurses say if they haven’t found the thief by the end of the weekend, they might have to call the police in.”
I froze. “They can’t do that! Will they arrest Gran? Will they throw her into prison like Ratty-Riley said they would?”
“Of course not. Don’t be so dramatic, Violet,” said Mum. “But—”
“It’s Sunday today! That means the police will be coming tomorrow!” I rummaged frantically through the kitchen cupboards. “That only gives us one day to prove that Gran is innocent!”
The nurses would never be able to find out anything, unless they were lucky enough to stumble across the real thief and catch him or her red-handed. Nurse Bridget had said so herself – she said she’d need to be invisible. What Gran REALLY needed was a little help from someone like me! Someone tiny who could hunt for evidence without being seen.
There had to be some simple reason why the ring ended up in Gran’s room.
“I’m going to go in and see Nurse Bridget as soon as she’s finished her morning shift,” said Mum. “We’ll have a meeting and … Violet? What are you doing?”
I pulled six packs of wholemeal lentils and three bags of butter beans out of the cupboard and on to the table.
“Do we have any of that new Oaty Flake cereal left?” I said, searching through a shelf of rice cakes and herbal tea. “I had it for the first time the other day. When we went to the theme park.”
If I could eat the same breakfast that I’d eaten on the morning I shrank in the queue, then perhaps I’d shrink again today.
“But you said you didn’t like Oaty Flakes,” Mum frowned. “You said they tasted like hamster food … Dad and Tiff agreed.”
She rummaged in a shopping bag behind the door.
“But I do have a surprise for you!” She held up a packet of cereal. “Ta-da! I brought you some
“Wow! For me?” I couldn’t have been more surprised if Mum had said I should become a vampire and drink a pint of fresh blood every morning. “You bought a packet of chocolate cereal for me?”
“Yes,” Mum smiled. “I know how upset you were about that whole business with Lunger…”
“Right … and now you’re worried about Gran. I thought a nice, naughty treat would cheer you up.”
“Thanks, Mum!” I poured myself a bowl and watched as the milk turned Normally, I’d have been in junk-food heaven, but today each cheerful stuck in my throat – if only I could have had a bowl of
boring Oaty Flakes instead. They were the secret to my shrinking – I was sure of it!
“If we didn’t finish the Oaty Flakes,” I said, as Mum headed out of the door for a shower, “where did the rest of them go?”
I knew Mum would never throw away good, healthy food.
“You know I don’t eat cereal,” said Mum, “and you all said they tasted like hamster food. So I fed them to Hannibal!”
She pointed to our hamster’s cage and hurried away upstairs.
My best chance of shrinking had been fed to our pet!
I couldn’t believe Mum had fed the rest of the Oaty Flakes to our hamster. Without eating them, I was sure I wouldn’t be able to shrink. And if I couldn’t shrink, I wouldn’t be able to snoop secretly round the retirement centre, track down the real thief and prove it wasn’t Gran who stole the ring.
I couldn’t just nip out and buy a new pack either. Our local shop only sells , kinds of breakfast cereals. The kind that everyone – except Mum – wants to pop out and buy. To get more Oaty Flakes, I’d have to go all the way to the health food shop on the other side of town. There was no one to give me a lift just now. Dad had been called into work because of an emergency computer meltdown or something and Mum was still in the shower, getting ready for her meeting with Nurse Bridget.
I poured myself another bowl of – OK, they didn’t taste as good as normal … but the of Mum actually letting me eat junk food was too good an opportunity to miss.
Why couldn’t be the secret to my shrinking? A little cocoa powder, a lot of sugar – YUM! Instead, I was supposed to act like a hamster and eat healthy Oaty… Wait a minute!
I leapt up, spilling my across the table. Mum said she’d fed the Oaty Flakes to Hannibal, but perhaps he hadn’t eaten them all. He can be a very slow eater … always stuffing his cheeks.
I ignored the pool of chocolatey milk dripping off the table and peered into the hamster cage on the counter beside me.
“Hello, little fellow!”
Hannibal looked up, his cheeks stuffed full as if he knew I might be after the last of his dinner.
“It’s all right,” I whispered. “I just want to see if you’ve got any Oaty Flakes left.”
