On the other hand there was Divine, who was truly beautiful and I was pretty sure Dad was head over heels in love with her. Bother. I turned to Tamsin.
‘Who do you like best, Tam? Miriana or Divine?’
‘Merry-ant,’ she answered. She would.
11 Dinah: How to Make Play Dough
It’s not fair. I was stuck behind the door, listening to that dog, and I hadn’t a clue what was going on. Never mind, I was at home on Monday and Mark was at school so he didn’t see what I saw then.
Monday started really badly. I couldn’t believe that Mr Peter was going to let the Evil Mistress of The Dark House look after little Tam. It was like giving a newborn baby to a tyrannosaurus for safe-keeping. I tried to warn them but they treated me like I was some kind of starving idiot.
‘Dinah’s hungry,’ said Mr Peter. ‘Give her some breakfast.’
‘Don’t leave Tamsin with that monster!’
‘Stop squawking, you daft twit. Have some cornflakes.’
‘Daft twit yourself! I don’t want cornflakes! She’s from The Dark House! Don’t let her in!’
But, of course, they did, because they’re stupid, like most humans, except perhaps Mark. He’s only half stupid.
Divine was dressed to kill. She arrived on the doorstep looking like some supermodel. You would have thought Mr Peter might have realized that she was not dressed like a childminder, but of course his eyes were on stalks.
‘You go off to the clinic, Peter,’ purred Divine. ‘Tamsin and I will be fine.’
‘What will you do? At Natasha’s they do painting and singing and stuff.’
‘Oh yes, we’ll do all those,’ said Divine.
The liar! The bare-faced liar! Well, I knew what she was up to, oh yes!
Peter grinned back like a lovesick schoolboy and went off to the clinic in his best mood ever. The door closed behind him and that left me, Tamsin and Divine in the house, all by ourselves. I was the only one who could save Tamsin now.
Did I say I was the only one? I was wrong. I am quite ready to admit it. I was wrong. There was one other person ready to save Tamsin from the Mistress of Evil. Want to know who it was?
Tamsin.
‘We’ll make some play dough,’ she told the supermodel.
‘I’m afraid I don’t know how to make play dough.’
Well, that was no surprise to hear, was it?
‘It’s easy-peasy’ said Tammy. ‘Daddy makes it all the time.’
‘But I’m afraid I haven’t made it, not ever.’
Tammy was astonished. So was I.
‘You’ve never made play dough?’ we chorused.
Divine shook her head and it was easy to see what she was thinking. Why did this wretched little child stare at her as if she was some stupid, gormless, brain-dead twit-head? (If Divine had looked at me she would have seen that I was staring at her like she was some stupid, brain-dead twit-head as well. I mean, even I know how to make play dough!)
But Tammy was not going to let Divine’s lack of play-dough knowledge get the better of her. She got a big plastic bowl, pulled up a chair to the sink and stuck the bowl under the tap.
‘We need water first,’ Tammy declared. ‘You be the mummy and hold the bowl and I’ll turn on the tap.’
Divine gritted her teeth and tried to smile cheerfully while Tam turned on the cold tap. Ooh la la! Water shot out, hit the bowl like the entire Niagara Falls thundering into a bucket, sprayed out in every direction and completely drenched Tamsin and Divine.
The supermodel screamed and dropped the bowl back into the sink, tipping its remaining contents down her own legs, filling her shoes and leaving her standing in an extremely large pool of very cold water, dripping and dropping, slipping and slopping. Ha ha ha! Served her right! Tamsin – one. Mistress of Hell – nil.
Tamsin, giggling hysterically, turned off the tap. ‘You’re wet!’ she cried.
Divine wanted to strangle her. She wanted to feed Tamsin to a ravenous pack of wild beasts, quite possibly the hyenas in her own back garden. She wanted to put Tamsin on a rocket and send her to the furthest ends of the universe. But instead she summoned up all her will power and stayed calm. She needed to stay on the right side for the time being.
‘Yes,’ she said stiffly. ‘I am a bit wet and you are too.’
Tammy lifted the bowl from the sink. There was a small amount of water left in the bottom. ‘I think that should be enough,’ said Tammy. ‘We only need a little bit.’
‘We only need a little bit,’ repeated Divine. ‘In that case it’s a good thing the rest of it went over me, isn’t it?’
Tamsin looked at Divine and laughed. ‘You’re funny’ she said.
Maybe not exactly the words I would have used to describe The Demon of Darkness, but it certainly put Divine in her place.
‘Now we get some flour,’ said Tam. She pulled the chair over to the cupboards and began to go through them. ‘There it is.’
You can see what’s coming, can’t you? You know what’s going to happen? I was already upside down, banging my head on the floor of my cage and squawking hysterically I almost wet myself! But Divine, she had no idea and just stood beside Tammy, watching.
‘Go on!’ I yelled. ‘Go on! Go for it, Tam!’
Tammy reached up to the top shelf. It was such a big stretch for a small girl, but she managed to pull the flour to the edge and guess what? Oh yes! The bag slipped from her fingers, toppled forwards, and landed on her head. The bag split open and flour billowed out, mostly over Tamsin, but a large cascade splattered right across Divine.
Then the bag hit the floor – POOFF!! – and the remaining flour exploded into the air, filling the kitchen with an enormous white cloud. From somewhere deep inside it came the sounds of spluttering and coughing and the scraping of a chair. Finally, Tamsin and Divine staggered out through the doorway, looking like two phantoms.
This time even Tamsin was speechless. Drenched now with water and flour, Divine gazed back at the wrecked kitchen.
‘Does your father always make play dough like this?’ she asked.
Tamsin shook her head. ‘I think you’d better tidy up,’ she whispered.
Divine’s jaw dropped. ‘I’d better tidy up? What about you?’
‘I’m not very good at it,’ said Tamsin, very matter-of-factly. ‘I can only do untidying. I expect I’ll do tidying when I’m five.’
Oh, Tammy! I love you so much! You are the cleverest girl in the world. Tamsin – two; Mistress of Hell – still nil.
‘Can’t you stop that stupid bird from cackling?’ yelled Divine. She was beginning to crack.
‘You can’t stop me,’ I cawed. ‘I know all about you. I know what you’re up to!’
Divine suddenly came storming up to my cage and glared in at me. I’m sure the centres of her eyes were red, like the fires of Hell. ‘Don’t you woorry, sunshine, your days are numbered. I know who you are! You pesky rat of a bird.’
Rat of a bird? What kind of daft insult is that? You can be a rat, you can be a bird, but how can you be a rat of a bird? It’s like telling someone they’re an elephant of an ostrich. Complete nonsense. I stuck my tongue out at her.
‘Pig!’ she yelled. So now I was a pig as well.
She stood there looking pretty scary, as if she wanted to eat me or something. Luckily, the front door bell rang at that moment. It was Julie, from the clinic, with bad news.
‘There’s an emergency at Mark’s school,’ she said. ‘It’s being evacuated. Peter said could you take Tammy to the school, collect Mark and he’ll catch up with you later? He knows it’s a lot to ask, but he’s desperate.’ Julie paused a moment, staring at them. ‘You’re a bit messy, aren’t you?’
‘Never mind that,’ growled Divine, snatching up her bag and searching for her car keys. ‘An emergency, eh? Well then, I’d better see what I can do to help.’ She grabbed Tammy by the hand and almost dragged her to the front door. ‘Come on!’ she cried, her eyes glittering like a snake�
�s. ‘It’s an emergency. We’re going to save Mark and your daddy! Ha ha!’
All Julie did was raise her eyebrows slightly. I was beside myself. I ranted and raved. No! No, no, no, no! Don’t let this happen! Don’t let this woman go off with Tamsin. THIS IS A BAD MOVE!
I threw myself all over the place. I yelled and screeched until I was hoarse, while Divine gathered up Tamsin, followed Julie out of the house, and the door shut on me.
Silence. I closed my eyes. The nightmare was turning into a screaming night terror.
12 Mark: Trouble – Big Time
When I got to school on Monday morning Sanjeev was waiting by the gate, looking very excited.
‘I’ve got a spider – it’s huge. It’s a tarantula and it’s poisonous!’
‘It can’t be a tarantula. They don’t live over here. Why did you bring it to school?’
‘There’s something wrong with it. It’s got some kind of skin disease. Can you fix it? I put it in the classroom because everyone was pestering me for a look.’
I wasn’t sure about this. I’d never seen Dad work on a spider before and I was fairly sure I wouldn’t know what to do. However, I knew I’d have to take a look at the creature if only to shut Sanjeev up.
‘It’s pretty sick,’ he muttered. ‘Its skin has gone all weird. You’d better take a look.’
Very carefully, Sanjeev removed the lid of the shoebox. Inside, huddled into one corner, was a very large, very hairy spider.
‘Blimey!’ I cried. ‘It is a tarantula! But I can’t see anything wrong with it.’
Sanjeev frowned. ‘Last time I looked its skin was all funny, all sort of flaky.’
I straightened up and smiled. ‘I bet there’s nothing wrong with it at all. You just wanted to bring it in to scare us!’
‘I never did!’ cried Sanjeev. ‘There was something wrong with it!’
‘It’s not moving much,’ I admitted. ‘Is it asleep?’
‘Poke it with a pencil,’ said Sanjeev. ‘Then you’ll see it move.’
I took a pencil and pushed at the spider. The body rocked forward and then settled back. I gave it a harder poke. This time the spider toppled right over. It lay on its back with its legs in the air.
‘It’s dead!’ cried Sanjeev.
I looked at it more closely. Goose pimples began creeping over me, from my toes to the top of my head, until my scalp went all tingly.
‘It’s not dead,’ I whispered. ‘This isn’t the tarantula. It’s the tarantula’s skin. The real tarantula has escaped.’
Sanjeev stood there, open-mouthed. ‘Spiders can’t take their skin off!’
‘They can. You know how snakes slough off their skin as they grow bigger, because their skin doesn’t grow with them? Spiders do that too.’
‘Never!’ said Sanjeev.
‘They do,’ I insisted, and Sanjeev gazed forlornly at the perfect copy of a tarantula that was still lying on its back in the bottom of his shoebox.
‘So where’s the real tarantula?’ he asked. ‘It’s poisonous. It can kill. What are we going to do?’
We stared at each other. It was like the ground had just vanished beneath my feet. My heart was thumping and my brain was in a whirl. I shut my eyes and crouched down on the floor.
‘Why are you screwing up your face?’ whined Sanjeev. ‘What are you scuttling about the floor for?’
‘Shhhh. I’m trying to think like an escaped tarantula.’ I heard Sanjeev groan, but he kept quiet. I was asking myself, If I was a tarantula looking for a hiding place, where would I go? I got to my feet.
‘I want every little nook and cranny searched from top to bottom. Take it bit by bit. You start over there. I’ll take the big cupboard.’
‘Won’t it be dangerous?’
I shook my head. ‘Tarantulas don’t bite if you stay calm. Use a ruler or something like that to lift anything that the spider might hide under.’
‘Supposing it jumps on me?’ asked Sanjeev.
‘It’s not a leopard. Just take it easy. Don’t be scared.’
‘If you’re not scared, why are you wearing Miss Pettigrew’s scooter helmet and gloves?’
‘It’s a precaution,’ I explained. ‘I can’t poke about in this cupboard with a ruler, can I? I shall have to use my hands.’
‘You look stupid,’ Sanjeev muttered.
‘I’ll look even more stupid dead, with a spider clamped to my throat, won’t I?’
We began to go through the classroom. Soon there were great piles of books and stuff that we’d searched. I pulled everything out of the cupboard, shelf by shelf. There were mountains of PE shoes, leotards, shorts and even a pair of underpants with a name label: Sanjeev Mistry. I waved them at him.
‘Hey Sanjy – I’ve got your underpants!’
‘Just exactly what is going on here?’
I froze. It was Miss Pettigrew and Mr Raza.
‘Last week I came in here and you were brandishing Miss Pettigrew’s trousers in the air. Today you’ve got Sanjeev Mistry’s underpants. Whatever is the matter with you, Mark?’
‘Plus he’s wearing my scooter helmet, and my
gloves,’ frowned Miss Pettigrew. ‘And look at the mess they’ve made!’
‘It’s the spider,’ Sanjeev began to explain, but Mr Raza cut him dead.
‘The spider? Don’t be so stupid. You can’t blame all this mess on a spider! Do you think I’m some kind of idiot?’
I had to get them to understand. ‘It’s a tarantula,’ I cried.
Mr Raza folded his arms across his chest and looked at me pityingly. ‘Mark, I know tarantulas are large, but even a tarantula couldn’t create such a rubbish tip as this! What did it do – stand on the shelves and hurl books across the room?’
I pulled off the helmet and took a deep breath. ‘Sanjeev brought a tarantula to school, but it escaped. We’re pretty sure it’s in this room somewhere and…’
‘… you’re hunting for it,’ Miss Pettigrew concluded quickly.
‘A tarantula?’ squeaked Mr Raza, rising on to his toes before beginning a curious, reverse tiptoe towards the door. ‘A real tarantula?’ His voice sounded so different, like one of those squeaky balloon things.
‘Leave the room,’ ordered Miss Pettigrew. ‘Sanjeev, catch up with Mr Raza and…’
‘… But he’s running across the playground, Miss Pettigrew.’
‘I can see that, but he must ring the emergency services. They’ll get someone out to deal with it. First thing is to make sure that everyone is safe. Mark, where do you think the best place for everyone would be?’
‘Out in the open, on the playground. The tarantula will most likely want to hide somewhere dark. It doesn’t like wide open spaces.’
‘Good thinking,’ she said. ‘I agree.’ She went straight to the wall and hit the fire alarm button.
And then everything went mad. Bells clanged, sirens wailed. Children and teachers began to pour on to the playground. It was chaos. I found myself in a line on the playground, along with the rest of the class. I gazed around at all the school buildings – the classrooms, the library, the canteen, the sports shed, the shrubbery, the wild garden, the pond area. That tarantula could be lurking absolutely anywhere.
It wasn’t long before we heard the first wailing sirens and then four fire engines turned up –four! There were firemen everywhere. Miss Pettigrew told the Chief Fire Officer that there was a spider, but no fire.
‘It’s a tarantula,’ she explained. The Chief Fire Officer nodded.
‘Tarantulas have a nasty bite. They can’t kill humans, but it’s very unpleasant and I expect the children are worried.’
‘Not just the children,’ murmured Miss Pettigrew, wondering where Mr Raza had got to.
‘Tarantulas aren’t really our department,’ explained the CFO. ‘My men can stay here for a short while; it will reassure everyone. We usually contact one of the local vets in an emergency like this. I’ll get on the radio right away.’
And that was
how Dad arrived, followed closely by Divine. He was so glad to see her and I know it was sort of the wrong moment and everything because there was a tarantula alert, but it was great to see Dad getting on so well with her. She obviously liked him if she was prepared to go to all this trouble. It turned out she had come to collect me from school.
‘You look a bit of a mess,’ grinned Dad.
‘Play dough,’ moaned Divine. ‘Tammy and the play dough.’
‘You still manage to look wonderful,’ Dad told her, and she gave him a ravishing smile.
‘Tammy’s in the car with me now. Come on, Mark.’
‘You don’t mind leaving school early?’ asked Dad. Some stupid question!
‘Of course not.’
‘I don’t know how long this is going to take. It’s best if Divine looks after you for the moment.’
‘I’ll take the children to my house,’ Divine told him. ‘It will be easier for me to look after them there.’
‘Of course. I’ll catch up with you when this is sorted. I must dash.’
‘I’ll collect my reward later,’ hinted Divine, with that lovely smile of hers. SHE BLEW DAD A KISS!
I followed Divine across to her car. I could see Tammy sitting inside, looking upset. Divine opened the door and practically pushed me inside. At once I realized something was wrong.
‘For goodness’ sake, shut your sister up,’ snapped Divine. ‘I’m sick of her snivelling.’ Her voice sent shivers down my spine and I was on instant alert. I reached across and held Tammy’s hand. She gripped my fingers so hard it almost hurt.
My brain was racing. What was going on? Why had Divine suddenly turned into some kind of monster? It was like she had flipped or something. I was pretty scared, but Dad had once told me that when you are dealing with an animal they can sense how scared you are. If you can stay calm they are less likely to attack – so I tried to stay calm. I had Tammy to look after, for a start. She gave a tiny sob, but I put an arm round her and hugged her and she stopped.
When the car finally pulled up we were in a part of town I didn’t recognize. We were outside a really creepy-looking house. The windows were smeared with dirt and ivy. The rusty-brown paintwork was flaking from the door and porch. I thought I saw a rat scurry along a window sill. The whole building gave off a feeling of darkness and evil.
The Beak Speaks Page 6
