by David Warner
‘Here, you bowl. But just so you know, we’re not going too hot here. Mikey’s pretty good, and he’s scored a heap of runs really quickly.’
Sunil put his hand to his mouth and said quietly: ‘He’s also a pretty good shot. Every time he hits the ball, he seems to knock an ice cream out of someone’s hand. He reckons it’s an accident, but he laughs every time it happens. The other Shimmer Bay kids are getting pretty sick of it, I think.’
Sunil pulled Davey in closer and whispered in his ear. ‘Even weirder, he bats just like you. Same style, same moves. The only difference is he’s a right-hander. Not a lefty like you.’
Davey pretended to wipe sweat from his brow. Batting left-handed was his trademark, well, that and – ‘He doesn’t do a switch hit, does he?’
The switch hit was Davey’s trademark shot, and it was tricky to do. Just as the bowler let go of the ball, you had to switch your feet and your hands so you hit it right-handed. It always tricked the opposition and he was pretty proud of it.
‘No switch hit so far,’ Sunil said.
‘Phew!’ Davey wiped his brow again. ‘And has Mudge gone?’
Sunil shook his head and pointed to where the school teacher was sitting not far beyond the Test match boundary. He was fully dressed, reading a book – and eating an ice cream.
‘I can’t believe it!’ Davey said. ‘I thought Mudge hated the beach, hated cricket and HATED ice cream.’
Sunil shrugged. ‘So did I.’
Kevin, meanwhile, was at mid-off, kicking the sand impatiently. ‘We’ve got to get them all out, Warner,’ he called. ‘That treasure won’t find itself.’
‘Did you talk to Clouter?’ Davey asked Kevin as he walked back to his mark.
Kevin rolled his eyes. ‘Sure did. He offered to bring his dad’s metal detector down. I told him not to bother. He’s the last person I’d let in on this thing.’
Davey agreed. ‘Last person I’d let in on anything,’ he said. He looked around. Mikey was at the striker’s end.
Davey stopped to focus for a second before running in. He tried to bowl a leg-break, but the ball didn’t turn enough, and Mikey pulled it nicely for two.
For the next few balls, Davey tried to mix it up – an off-break here, a slider there, a wrong’un, some top-spin.
But Mikey seemed to read his mind each time and always get the ball away. It was frustrating.
‘Come on, Warner!’ Kevin hissed. ‘Trick him!’
This time, Davey tried a leg-break. But again the ball didn’t turn as much as it should have.
In a flash, Mikey swapped his hands and feet and swung around to pull the ball left-handed high over what had been point. Then he ran off down the pitch.
Davey couldn’t believe it. That was his shot!
Kevin made a face. ‘That’s your shot, Warner!’
Davey dashed towards the wicket, hoping someone could throw him the ball and he could run Mikey out.
But the ball was still in the air – was it going to be a four? It sailed over the heads of the Shimmer Bay batting line-up and was heading straight for Mudge. In a nanosecond, it hit the teacher’s ice cream clear of its cone and SPLAT, straight into Mr Mudge’s open book.
‘Ohhh!’ everyone said as one. ‘Ohhhhhhhhh!’
Davey stood stock still.
As if in slow motion, Mudge climbed to his feet and began to walk zombie-like in Davey’s direction. As the school teacher approached, Davey turned to see what Mikey was doing. But the new kid had already vanished, probably behind the Nippers’ tent. Then Davey looked down. Lying at his feet was a cricket bat. Mikey must have tossed it there as he ran past. And now, standing just behind the cricket bat, were two black shiny lace-up shoes. Mudge shoes, to be precise.
Before Davey could even get a word out, Mudge had grabbed him by the ear and was frog-marching him towards the lifeguard’s tent. Davey could see that Mudge’s ears were quickly changing from purple to black. Soon they’d match his shoes. Not a good sign, Davey thought, not a good sign at all.
CHAPTER 7
MISMATCH
The lifeguard, whose name was Rustum, turned out to be very nice. He listened to Davey as he explained that he wasn’t actually batting when the ball hit Mr Mudge.
Sunil, who’d followed them from a safe distance, also spoke up on Davey’s behalf. ‘It couldn’t have been Davey,’ he said, smiling so his dimple showed. ‘He was bowling.’
But Mr Mudge was adamant. He’d seen who was batting and it was Warner, definitely Warner. He peered over his glasses. ‘I’d know that face anywhere,’ he said. ‘And that silly grin!’
‘But the batter was wearing blue and grey,’ Sunil said. ‘Davey’s wearing a yellow T-shirt, look.’ He pointed and again smiled so his dimple showed.
Mudge briefly looked Davey up and down, then shook his head. ‘I don’t care what anyone was wearing! All I saw was this young nincompoop standing near the wicket with the bat at his feet. What I do know is, if anyone did this, it was Warner.’ Mudge pointed accusingly at Davey.
Rustum narrowed his eyes. Davey could see he wasn’t convinced that Mr Mudge had the right kid.
Phew, he thought. For once, someone believed him.
‘Well, young man, I’m willing to give you another chance,’ Rustum said, ruffling Davey’s hair.
Davey smiled gratefully. ‘Thanks, sir.’
‘But hey, if you’re going to spend the whole day down here on the beach, you better put on more sunscreen.’
Mudge interrupted. ‘And then there was the dog incident,’ he barked loudly. Davey noticed the teacher’s ears finally matched his shoes. ‘This young hooligan has already broken the law here once today, bringing his dog to the beach, spoiling it for everyone else.’ He shook his finger at Davey. It was like they were in class.
Rustum’s face changed. He hadn’t heard about Max and the flag race, but he seemed to know about Max. He glared at Davey. ‘You allowed that dog of yours to run on this beach without a leash?’ he said in a cold voice.
Davey nodded then shook his head. ‘Well, yes . . . no. I didn’t allow it so much as . . .’
‘Well, that changes everything!’ Rustum cut the air with his hand. ‘I think you better head home, young man. No more cricket for you today.’
He turned to Sunil. ‘And if I hear one more word of complaint about your game, I’m going to have to send you all home. Do you hear?’
Sunil heard. He grabbed Davey by the arm. ‘Come on, let’s go. You deserve an ice cream.’
But Davey had spent all his money on spades, so Sunil had to lend him some money.
‘Pay me back when you can, Warner,’ he said.
‘Thanks, Deep. And good luck!’ Davey slapped his friend on the back. ‘But we’ve still got a chance. You could get Tay out from behind the stumps. She’s a great bowler, but doesn’t get the chance very often.’
Sunil thought for a moment. ‘Yeah, I might. Good one.’
‘And give George a go at wicket-keeping. He’s quick,’ Davey said.
‘True,’ Sunil said.
‘And tell Kevin to give up on that treasure. I reckon it’s a fake.’ There, Davey had said it.
Sunil looked at the sky as if he was thinking. ‘You’re probably right,’ he said finally. ‘See you, then.’ He gave Davey another back-slap. ‘It’s going to be tough without you.’
‘Bye. And can you bring my bag home? Otherwise Mum’ll go ballistic.’ Then Davey realised that once his mum heard what had happened, she’d go ballistic anyway. He turned and was about to head off when he heard a shout.
‘Sunil! Davey!’
It was Bella. Red-faced, she was dashing across the sand towards them, her ponytail flying behind her like a kite tail.
‘Davey, Sunil, you won’t believe what’s happened!’ Bella was out of breath and her voice sounded strange, like she’d seen a ghost or there’d been a terrible accident.
‘Mmmm?’ Sunil had clearly had enough of Bella for one day.
�
��The trophies have gone missing! Can you believe it? Someone’s stolen them!’
Davey and Sunil were about to speak, but the sight of a single tear running down Bella’s cheek shocked them into silence.
‘Are . . . are you okay?’ Davey said finally, touching Bella lightly on the shoulder.
Bella quickly wiped the tear away and seemed to pull herself together. Then she flicked her ponytail with such force it knocked Davey’s baggy green clean off his head.
‘Oh, sorry!’ she said, but she didn’t sound very sorry as she poked the cap with her big toe. ‘Anyway, I have to find those trophies! We’ve all worked so hard for them!’ No more tears appeared on Bella’s cheek. She was back.
Davey picked up his cap and put it on his head. ‘Maybe you’ve put something on top of them,’ Sunil said helpfully. ‘That’s what my mum always says and in ninety per cent of cases she’s right.’
Bella shook her head. ‘No. I know exactly where they were and exactly how many there were. Now the whole bag’s gone!’ She grimaced and gave her ponytail another flick. Then she narrowed her eyes. ‘You guys didn’t take them, did you?’
Davey rolled his eyes.
‘Well, did you?’ Bella put her hands on her hips and stared at them accusingly.
Sunil sighed. ‘Bella, when would we have had the chance? We’ve been fielding since we started to play, then Davey was blamed for hitting Mudge’s ice cream and we had to go see the lifeguard, which is where we’ve been for the last forever. We wouldn’t have had the chance to take them, even if we’d wanted to – which we wouldn’t!’ Now Sunil had his hands on his hips.
Bella stared at them for a moment, then made as if to wave them away. ‘Okay, but if you see a big black bag unattended, please tell me.’ She turned on her heel and ran off towards the surf club.
Davey shook his head. ‘They can’t blame that one on me. And anyway, you’re right. We were fielding the whole time.’
‘They’ll find them,’ Sunil said. ‘Who’d steal a bunch of trophies?’
‘Dunno.’ Davey shrugged. ‘Either way, I’d better go. Otherwise Mudge and that lifeguard will see I’m still here.’ He gave Sunil a push. ‘But don’t forget: Tay’s a good spin bowler, and try George behind the wicket.’
‘Got it,’ Sunil said. He handed Davey a Whopper Chomp. ‘Here, that’s on the house.’
Davey trudged up the beach in the direction of the kiosk, sucking on his Whopper Chomp. He thought about his friends. He was leaving them to battle it out with the Shimmer Bay crew alone. Tay was an amazing wicket-keeper and a good spin bowler, and George wasn’t bad behind the wicket, but it was probably not enough. Mikey seemed to handle anything the Sandhills Flats kids threw at him.
It seemed a sorry end to what had promised to be an amazing day. He stopped to kick the sand. His big toe hit a rock. ‘Ouch!’
Suddenly, just ahead of him, a boy appeared from behind a clump of bushes. He was wearing the Shimmer Bay colours. Davey realised it was Mikey. So that’s where he got to, Davey thought.
Davey kept walking without saying hello – after all, it was partly because of Mikey he’d been banned from the beach.
‘Warner!’ Mikey had a strange little smile on his face. ‘Where are you off to?’
‘Home,’ Davey said as he passed.
‘Why? What happened?’ Mikey grabbed him by the arm.
‘The lifeguard’s banned me for the rest of the day.’
‘Oh, that’s too bad,’ Mikey said. Then he took off in a hurry. ‘I better get down there. See you tomorrow!’ he called over his shoulder.
Davey turned to watch him go. He was starting to understand what Josh meant by secret weapon. Deadly weapon, more like it, he said to himself.
He shook his head. There was only one thing to do – buy that ice cream. Mmm, that’ll help me think. And he had a lot to think about.
CHAPTER 8
SPIN OUT
‘You look like a tomato – a sun-dried tomato!’ Davey’s mum was standing at the back door, her hands in the air.
Davey sighed. A mother on the warpath was the last thing he needed.
‘Now get yourself inside and under a cold shower.’ Davey’s mum wasn’t finished. ‘I told you to reapply! What happened? And why are you home early? Not that I’m sorry. You’d be purple if you’d stayed all day!’
Davey mumbled something about too many Nippers and not enough room on the beach, then ducked into the bathroom and shut the door. It would only be a matter of time before his mum heard what had happened down there – the Sandhill Flats mums seemed to have a team of spies working for them, because they found out everything, often within minutes.
Standing under the cold water, he mulled over recent events. It had been a very strange day. The cheap ice creams, the treasure, the Nippers, and then Mikey, his doppelganger! Something wasn’t right. But what?
Back in his room, he put on clean clothes. As he pulled the T-shirt over his head, the skin on his forehead and nose stung. Annoyingly, his mum was right – he was sunburnt.
‘No beach for you tomorrow,’ his mum said when he appeared in the kitchen looking for something to eat.
‘Oh, Mum, you can’t do that! It’s a Test match! They need me!’
Davey’s mum rolled her eyes and shook her head. ‘Well, we’ll see.’ She pulled his lunchbox out of his bag. ‘Here’s that sandwich I made you this morning. Eat it up and, if you want more, I can make you another.’
It was enough to lift Davey’s spirits. His mum hadn’t said a definite no. And if by some miracle she didn’t hear about the Mudge incident, Davey might be allowed to go tomorrow.
He finished a second sandwich and polished off an apple. He was draining the last of his Milo when his brother Steve appeared.
‘Want a hit in the backyard?’ Steve didn’t have a club match on either and must have been totally bored, Davey thought, to want to play cricket with his little brother.
‘Sure,’ Davey said. Playing with Steve had its downside – his brother was always telling Davey what to do – but it was better than mooching around the house.
‘Not without a hat and sunscreen,’ his mum barked from the laundry.
‘But it’s shady out there,’ Davey called.
‘I don’t care! Hat and sunscreen or no go!’ His mum appeared in the doorway with his baggy green in one hand and a purple bottle of sunscreen in the other. She kept sunscreen all over the house, even in the laundry.
The boys slathered themselves with cream, then wandered out the back with their bats and a couple of tennis balls. Max followed. The dog really was an excellent fielder – it was pretty hard to get anything past Max.
After they’d set up the wickets, Steve tossed Davey a ball. ’You bowl,’ he said.
Davey barely reacted, even though he couldn’t remember a time he’d been allowed to bat first. Big brothers!
Davey’s first ball was a leg-spinner. But Steve saw it coming and expertly clipped it to square leg.
For his next ball, Davey tried off-spin, but again Steve predicted the ball’s flight and turned it also to leg, sending Max dashing into the bushes to get it.
After a few more balls, Steve held up his hand. ‘Can I give you a tip?’ he said.
Here we go, Davey thought. More advice from the Expert. ‘What?’ he asked.
‘Rather than bowl something different every time,’ Steve said, ‘try sticking to one delivery for a while so that I start to relax. Then, just when I begin to take things for granted, surprise me with something different. You have to read the batter, how they’re thinking and feeling, and pick the right moment to trip them up.’
Davey made a face. ‘Okay, but now you know what I’m going to do!’ But he had to admit, it was worth a try. It might even be something he could try on Mikey tomorrow – if he got the chance . . .
For the next twenty minutes, Davey bowled the same line and length over and over, trying to pick the best moment to surprise his brother with something new. It w
as pretty hard to trick Steve, but at last he did, sending down a wrong’un that had Steve tripping over his own feet. The ball hit the wicket with a thwack.
‘Out!’ Davey threw his arms in the air. He’d actually put one past Steve!
‘Good one, little brother,’ Steve said, tossing down his bat. ‘Now, watch me get you out for a duck!’
But Davey was in form with the bat and had Max skittering after the ball all over the backyard.
He was just settling in for a long stint at the wicket when his mum appeared at the door, her phone in her hand. ‘David Warner! What’s this I hear about you being banned from the beach?’
Davey lay on his bed, staring at the wall. Max was on the floor, snoring.
It had been a long, hard day. Sure there had been a few wins, and Davey ran through them.
For one thing, he’d managed to convince his mum and dad that he wasn’t the one who’d hit Mudge’s ice cream. It had taken a while – they found it hard to believe there could be a kid in the Shimmer Bay team who looked exactly like Davey.
‘That only happens in the movies!’ Davey’s dad had said, incredulous.
He’d also been partly excused for Max’s beach antics, though his mum pointed out that if he’d managed to train Max as he’d promised to do, the dog wouldn’t be escaping every two minutes.
And, after some discussion, they’d agreed to let him go to the beach the next day, on the condition he take the big old beach umbrella and wear Granddad’s faded floppy cricket hat and a long-sleeve shirt with a collar. He wasn’t thrilled, but it could have been worse.
But the day had bad bits, too, and he had to admit they were still bothering him. There was the Test match, for starters. Sunil had come by with his bag after the day’s play and reported that the Sandhill Flats kids were seriously behind. Mikey had scored 41 not out in Shimmer Bay’s total of 87. Without Davey to open, Sandhill Flats had collapsed, to be all out for 36. Kevin had been so busy searching for treasure that he’d missed his turn to bat, which hadn’t helped.
