by M. C. Badger
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Copyright Page
IT WAS a very hot day in the city. Everything was wilting, especially Marcus Tinkler and his two sisters, Mila and Turtle.
The Tinklers’ flat at thirty-three Rushby Road was a mess. There was a big pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen. There was a mountain of grubby clothes in the laundry. The floors needed scrubbing.
But it was far too hot to do any of those things. In fact, it was too hot to do anything except try to stay cool.
Marcus was sitting on a cushion next to the open fridge, reading a book.
His younger sister Turtle was lying in her shell, eating lettuce. It wasn’t a real shell, of course. It was just a cardboard box that had been painted green.
Why did Turtle pretend the box was her shell? Because she thought she was a turtle.
‘Eating lettuce is the best way to stay cool,’ Turtle said as she munched. ‘It is ninety-five per cent water.’
Sometimes Marcus wondered how it was that Turtle could be so smart and so not-smart at the same time.
Marcus and Turtle were happy. But their older sister, Mila, was not. She had tried lots of different ways to keep cool but none of them had worked.
First she’d got Marcus and Turtle to fan her with a giant fan she had made out of leaves. This worked for a while. But fanning someone with a giant fan is hard work. Marcus and Turtle soon got tired. Then they would not fan Mila anymore.
Next, Mila looked for her sun hat. The Tinklers never had any trouble finding their things because they had made up a rule about it:
The Tinklers thought this was a very good rule.
‘When you put things away in drawers and cupboards you can’t ever find them,’ Mila liked to point out. ‘It’s much better when everything is on the ground where you can see it.’
Maybe you are wondering why the Tinklers’ parents let them keep their things on the ground. You see, their parents worked for a travelling circus and were often away. This meant that the Tinklers Three got to do things their own way.
Once Mila had found her hat, she went to the fridge. ‘Move out of the way, Marcus,’ she said. ‘I need to get something out of the freezer.’
Marcus didn’t want to move. He was very comfortable just where he was.
‘Right,’ said Mila. ‘You asked for it!’ Mila started tickling Marcus.
All circus children have very tickly fingers, but Mila’s were the most tickly of all.
Marcus quickly jumped out of the way. Mila took all the ice cubes out of the freezer and tipped them into her sun hat. Then she put the hat on the ground and stuck her feet into it.
‘Does that cool you down?’ asked Marcus.
‘A bit,’ said Mila. ‘But it’s really my head that is hot, not my feet.’
‘Why don’t you put the hat on your head then?’ said Marcus.
‘No way!’ said Mila. ‘That would be very uncomfortable.’
And then Mila SNEEZED. She always did this when she had an idea. Some of Mila’s ideas were very good. Like when she suggested they should stick their feet to the ceiling with circus glue to see if they could hang upside down like bats. (They could.)
Sometimes her ideas were not so good. Like when she said that a cake of soap might taste the same as a piece of cake. (It didn’t.)
So Marcus was a little nervous as he waited to see what Mila’s idea would be this time.
Mila took a big tub of chocolate ice-cream out of the freezer. This was another one of the Tinklers’ rules:
Mila scooped out some ice-cream from the middle of the tub to make a deep hole. Then she put the ice-cream tub upside down on her head.
Mila smiled. ‘Ah! That’s much better! Now my head is lovely and cool.’
‘What a waste of ice-cream,’ said Marcus.
‘It’s not a waste,’ said Mila. ‘As the ice-cream melts it will start dripping. I will catch the drips on my tongue. See?
It’s the PERFECT plan.’
‘Perfect for you, maybe,’ said Marcus. ‘But Turtle and I won’t get to eat any of it.’
He didn’t want to eat ice-cream that had been on Mila’s head.
‘There are two more tubs in the freezer,’ Mila pointed out. ‘You can put one on your head too if you want.’
‘No thanks,’ said Marcus. He didn’t want to eat ice-cream that had been on his head either.
It wasn’t long before Mila’s ice-cream started to melt. Drips began to run down her face. Mila caught them on her tongue just as she said she would. At first she looked very pleased with herself.
‘You are not the only inventor in our family,’ she said to Marcus. ‘I have invented the world’s first ice-cream hat.’
The drips started falling faster and faster. Mila couldn’t catch all of them. Some of them ran down the back of her neck. Some of them dribbled into her ears. That wasn’t very nice.
Once the ice-cream had melted it wasn’t cool anymore. It was just sticky.
Mila stopped looking pleased. She took the tub off her head.
Then Mila sneezed again. She had a new idea. ‘Let’s get grumpy old Mrs Fitz to take us to the beach!’ she said.
Mrs Fitz lived in the flat below the Tinklers. She was not really grumpy. She just pretended to be because it made the Tinklers happy.
‘We can’t do that,’ said Marcus. ‘The nearest beach is five hundred kilometres away and Mrs Fitz doesn’t have a car.’
‘You should invent us a car,’ said Mila in a grouchy voice. ‘Or an aeroplane. You haven’t invented anything for ages.’
‘That’s not true,’ said Marcus. ‘I invented the pocket pogo stick just last week.’
Mila pulled a face. ‘The pocket pogo stick is OK,’ she said. ‘But it’s not very useful. What we really need is a car or an aeroplane.’
‘Those things have already been invented!’ Marcus said.
But Mila wasn’t listening because, just then, someone knocked on the Tinklers’ door.
‘MAYBE it’s Mrs Fitz!’ said Mila. ‘Maybe she’s come to tell us she’s bought an aeroplane and will take us to the beach.’
Mila ran to the front door. Marcus and Turtle followed her. Mila flung the door open. It wasn’t Mrs Fitz. It was the Splatleys.
The Splatleys lived on the thirty-first floor of the Tinklers’ building.
There were three Splatley kids. Sarah Splatley was Mila’s age. Simon Splatley was Marcus’s age. Susie Spatley was the same age as Turtle. The Splatleys all had dark hair, beady little eyes and permanently scrunched-up noses. The Splatleys and the Tinklers were not friends. Not even a tiny bit.
&nb
sp; ‘What are you doing here?’ asked Marcus.
‘And why are you dressed like that?’ added Mila.
The Splatleys were in their swimming gear. Sarah had a towel around her neck. Simon had a stripe of zinc across his nose. Susie was wearing a diving mask.
‘We are going to the swimming pool,’ said Sarah. ‘Our parents are driving us.’
‘Our car is huge,’ added Simon. ‘There’s plenty of room for you three.’
Marcus was surprised. The Splatleys had never done anything nice for them before. In fact, they had never done anything nice for anyone before.
They had once won a trophy for being the meanest children in the whole city. And they were proud of it!
‘Um, well . . . thanks!’ said Marcus. ‘We’d love to go to the pool with you.’
Of course, he didn’t really mean this. No-one wanted to go anywhere with the Splatleys. But he did want to go to the pool.
Sarah Splatley smiled. She looked like a poisonous snake about to strike. ‘Oh, we’re not inviting you to COME with us,’ she said. ‘We’re just telling you that WE are going.’
Simon giggled and Susie stuck her tongue out. Then the three of them walked off down the stairs, laughing very loudly. When the Splatley kids laughed it sounded like GLASS BREAKING.
‘Those three should get a new trophy,’ said Mila. ‘They aren’t just the meanest kids in the city. They’re the meanest in the whole world.’
‘I want to go swimming!’ said Turtle, once the Splatleys had gone.
‘Me too,’ said Mila.
‘We caught the idea from those Splatleys,’ said Marcus.
‘Catching an idea is like catching a cold,’ said Mila. ‘Once you have it, it’s hard to get rid of it.’
‘The pool is much closer than the beach,’ said Marcus. ‘We could get there on the bus.’
‘That’s true,’ said Mila. ‘But the bus costs money. The pool costs money too. I’ll have to see if we can afford it.’
Lots of children get pocket money. They are given it once a week, or maybe once a month. But the Tinklers didn’t get their money this often. Because their parents were away a lot, the Tinklers got a whole year’s worth of pocket money at once. It was far too much money to keep in a normal-sized pocket, so Mila made a giant pocket out of a pillowcase.
She even used a frisbee to make a button. ‘Every pocket needs a button,’ she said.
The Tinklers ran to the hallway, where they kept their GIANT pocket. Mila got there first and looked into it.
‘We have heaps of money,’ she said. ‘We can go to the pool!’
All three Tinklers cheered.
‘This will be great!’ said Marcus. ‘I’m going to swim in the big pool.’
‘Me too,’ said Turtle.
‘No, Turtle,’ said Marcus. ‘You will have to stay in the baby pool. You don’t know how to swim yet.’
‘I am a turtle,’ said Turtle, growling. ‘Of course I know how to swim.’
The Tinklers got ready to go. Marcus put on his board shorts and found his snorkel. He picked up his towel from the floor.
‘I’m ready,’ he said.
‘Turtle and I are ready too,’ said Mila.
Marcus looked at his sisters. Mila was wearing her big floppy sun hat and a ballerina tutu. Turtle was wearing flippers and a flowery shower cap. She also had a big plastic washing tub tied to her back.
‘Mila,’ said Marcus. ‘Why are you wearing a tutu?’
‘Because I am going to do water ballet at the swimming pool,’ said Mila.
‘Oh,’ said Marcus. That made sense. ‘Turtle,’ said Marcus. ‘Why do you have a plastic washing tub tied to your back?’
‘It is my waterproof shell,’ said Turtle.
‘Oh,’ said Marcus. He thought that made sense too.
Sometimes when the Tinklers were going out they took the stairs. This way they could stop and chat to the people who lived on the floors below them. But today it was too hot to walk. It was also too hot to chat. So they took the lift instead.
The lift at thirty-three Rushby Road was VERY FAST. It only took twenty-five seconds to get from the thirty-third floor to the ground floor.
But today those twenty-five seconds seemed to take forever. This was because the Tinklers were in a hurry to get to the pool.
On the ground floor of thirty-three Rushby Road was a bakery. It was run by Barry and Betty. Usually the Tinklers liked to stop and talk with Barry and Betty. But they didn’t stop today.
Barry popped his head around the bakery door as the Tinklers walked by. ‘Are you off to the pool?’ he asked.
‘That’s right,’ said Marcus.
‘Lucky you!’ sighed Barry. He looked very hot. ‘Here, I’ll give you some treats to take with you.’
He started throwing food at the Tinklers. A sausage roll got stuck in Marcus’s snorkel. Two muffins landed on Turtle’s flippers.
‘Thanks!’ said Mila, as a large apple pie came to rest on top of her hat.
Marcus grabbed his sisters by their hands. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘The bus will be here soon.’
THE BUS was just pulling up when the Tinklers arrived at the stop.
‘How much does it cost to get to the swimming pool?’ Mila asked the driver.
‘One dollar each,’ said the bus driver.
Mila handed the driver one dollar.
The driver frowned. ‘That’s not enough,’ he said. ‘There are three of you.’
‘But we can all fit in one seat,’ said Mila.
‘That’s not possible,’ said the driver.
‘Yes it is,’ said Mila. ‘We will sit on each others’ shoulders. Watch.’
The Tinklers found a spare seat.
‘Marcus, you sit on the bottom,’ said Mila.
‘Why?’ asked Marcus.
‘Because it’s the morning,’ said Mila. ‘You always sit on the bottom in the morning. That’s one of our rules, remember?’
Marcus didn’t remember this rule. He was pretty sure it wasn’t even morning anymore. But he didn’t argue. He wanted to get to the pool and the driver would not leave until they were sitting down. He sat on the seat. Mila climbed up on his shoulders. Then Turtle climbed up and sat on Mila’s shoulders. She was up so high she could touch the roof.
‘Turtles love being up high!’ she said.
‘See?’ said Mila to the bus driver.
The bus driver looked worried. ‘That doesn’t look very safe.’
‘It’s fine!’ Mila told him. ‘We have circus blood. We won’t fall.’
The pool was not very far away. But it felt like a long way to Marcus. He was hot. He was bothered. He had two sisters balanced on his shoulders. So when the bus finally pulled up outside the pool the Tinklers were the first ones off.
They looked at the pool throuh the gate. The water sparkled. The sun shone. Everyone inside looked cool and happy.
‘I can’t wait to
get in there!’ said Mila.
‘Me too!’ said Marcus.
‘And me,’ said Turtle.
Mila walked up to the entrance. ‘Entry for three, please,’ she said, sliding over some money.
The girl in at the entrance was just about to let them in when someone yelled, ‘STOP!’
The Tinklers turned around. And there, behind them, was the manager of the pool. He had white shorts, a blue T-shirt and a big red face.
His hands were big and red too. His fingers looked like sausages.
He pointed one of his sausage fingers at Marcus, Mila and Turtle. ‘I know you three,’ he said. ‘You are the Tinklers and you are BANNED from this pool.’
‘Why?’ asked Marcus.
‘Remember the diving competition last summer?’ snapped the manager.
‘Of course we remember it,’ said Mila. ‘We were in it.’
‘You were not SUPPOSED to be in it,’ said the manager. ‘You were not in one of the registered teams.’
‘We were in our own team,’ said Mila. ‘Team Tinkler.’
‘That wasn’t a proper team,’ said the manager. ‘Just like the dives you did were not real dives. You made them all up.’
‘Of course we made them up,’ said Mila. ‘That’s why they were so good.’
‘Everyone loved our dives,’ added Marcus. ‘We won the competition, don’t forget.’
‘Oh, I won’t forget,’ said the manager. ‘Just like I won’t forget the time you turned the water into jelly! People were trying to dive in and they kept bouncing out again.’
‘That was an accident,’ said Marcus. ‘I had a packet of super-strong jelly crystals in my pocket. When I got in the water they fell out and made the water set.’
