by R. A. Spratt
‘Oh, that isn’t the Haakon Stone,’ said Debbie.
‘It’s not?’ asked Friday.
‘No, it’s just a diamond,’ said Debbie, putting it in her pocket. ‘I lent it to Ingrid so she would look the part of a European princess’.
‘Just a diamond!’ exclaimed Ian. ‘A diamond that size must be worth a fortune.’
‘I suppose so,’ said Debbie. ‘But this is the real Haakon Stone.’ She pulled the leather strap out from around her neck and showed them the pebble she always wore. ‘It’s an ancient symbol of the Norwegian Royal Family, so it’s much more valuable.’
‘And you’ve been wearing it next to your room key all this time?’ asked Friday.
‘It was a very handy tip,’ said Debbie. ‘I haven’t locked myself out of my room since.’
A rumbling motor sounded in the distance. Melanie shaded her eyes as she looked up into the sky. ‘Is that a helicopter?’
‘No-one has asked for permission to land a helicopter here,’ said the Headmaster. ‘I do hope it’s not one of the parents grabbing their children before they run off to a tax haven. They never pay their school fees when they do.’
‘It’s louder than a normal helicopter,’ said Ian. ‘It sounds military.’
The pale blue helicopter was descending towards the polo pitch.
‘Am I the only princess enrolled here?’ asked Debbie.
‘I think so,’ said the Headmaster. ‘Although I wouldn’t rule anything out after today.’
‘Why do you ask?’ asked Friday.
‘Because that is a Swedish military helicopter,’ said Debbie.
‘I don’t know anyone from Sweden,’ said the Headmaster.
‘Oh dear,’ said Friday. ‘I do.’
The helicopter landed, the pilot cut the engine and the door swung open. A dowdy middle-aged woman, wearing a brown cardigan and with terribly untidy hair, stepped out.
‘Who is it?’ asked the Headmaster. ‘She looks like a scarecrow.’
‘Evangeline!’ exclaimed Dr Barnes.
‘Who?’ asked the Headmaster.
‘My mother,’ said Friday.
‘The other Dr Barnes,’ said Ian.
‘Actually, if you include my brothers and sisters,’ said Friday, ‘she is one of six Barnes doctors. It gets very confusing.’
Friday’s father started running towards his wife.
‘Does your family get some sort of bulk discount from an ugly brown cardigan shop?’ asked Melanie.
Friday’s mother jogged towards her husband, her arms flung wide ready to embrace him. She wasn’t very good at running. There was a lot of wobbling and not a lot of forward movement.
‘This would be like a scene from a romance movie, if they both weren’t so wildly uncoordinated,’ said Melanie.
Friday’s mother tripped over a clump of grass and Friday’s father stumbled over his own shoelaces. They collapsed on top of each other on the grass.
‘Oh, Rupert,’ said Friday’s mother.
Ian snorted a laugh. ‘Your father’s name is Rupert.’
‘On the list of embarrassing facts about my father, that doesn’t even make the top one thousand,’ said Friday.
‘You came back for me,’ said Friday’s father.
‘I need you,’ said Friday’s mother.
‘You realised you need me to help analyse your equations?’ said Friday’s father.
‘Yes, I suppose I did,’ said Friday’s mother. ‘Also, I can’t bear travelling without you. Hotel rooms are horrible. I can never get the lid off the jar of macadamias myself.’
‘Oh, Evangeline,’ said Friday’s father. ‘How I’ve longed to hear you say that.’
‘He’s longed for her to want help opening a jar?’ asked Ian.
‘You’ve got to understand neither of them is listening to the other,’ explained Friday. ‘It’s like a chimpanzee communicating with a gorilla. They’re making noises, but the communication is essentially non-verbal.’
Both of Friday’s parents turned to the helicopter, and walked towards it arm in arm. The pilot turned the engine back on and the blades started whipping around again.
Friday stood up and took a step forward. ‘They’re not going back to Sweden without saying goodbye, are they?’ she asked.
Her parents climbed into the helicopter and shut the door behind them, without even a backward glance.
‘I think they are,’ said Melanie in response.
‘I just got Dad off multiple theft charges …’ said Friday, ‘and Mum didn’t even say hello, let alone goodbye. I thought I was jaded to my parents’ insensitive ways, but this … this …’ She swallowed. She did not want to cry. ‘This is a new low.’
No-one said anything. No-one knew what to say. Ian took a step forward and put his arm around Friday’s shoulders. ‘Just think, if you didn’t have shoddy parents, you wouldn’t be who you are today.’
Friday looked up. Ian was looking at her with a sad smile. She realised the same was true for him.
‘Would you like us to step away so you can have your first kiss?’ asked Melanie. ‘Unless you’ve already had your first kiss and I missed it, perhaps because I was napping.’
Friday groaned. Ian dropped his arm. The moment was over.
‘Come along,’ said the Headmaster. ‘Mrs Marigold’s making pepperoni pizza for dinner. She might even hand out seconds of dessert when she finds out your father has gone.’
But Friday never got to find out. When she got to the dining room Uncle Bernie was there waiting for her, and he had two people, a man and a woman wearing dark grey suits and sunglasses, with him.
‘Who are they?’ asked the Headmaster.
‘The big scruffy man in the creased suit is my Uncle Bernie,’ said Friday.
‘Perhaps soon to be Ian’s stepdad,’ added Melanie.
‘He is not!’ said Ian.
‘And the other two,’ said Friday, ‘given their suits with a high polyester content and ostentatious wearing of sunglasses, I deduce are some sort of government officials.’
‘Friday!’ exclaimed Uncle Bernie as soon as he saw her. ‘I’m so sorry. There was nothing I could do.’
‘About what?’ asked Friday.
The woman pulled an identification card from her pocket and introduced herself. ‘I’m Agent Torres from the Department of Immigration. You’ll have to come with us.’
‘Why?’ asked Friday.
‘You’re being deported,’ said Uncle Bernie.
‘On what grounds?’ asked the Headmaster. ‘She hasn’t committed a crime. Not one that’s been proven, anyway.’
‘We’re deporting her because she’s not a citizen,’ said Agent Torres.
‘Yes, I am,’ said Friday.
‘Is it true you were born in Switzerland?’ asked Agent Torres.
‘Well, yes,’ conceded Friday.
‘Not only that, she’s not Friday Barnes,’ said Agent Torres.
To be continued …
To find out what happens next, read the fourth book in the series …
Publishing January 2016
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About the Author
R. A. Spratt is an award-winning author and television writer. She lives in Bowral with her husband and two daughters. Like Friday Barnes, she enjoys wearing a silly hat.
For more information, visit www.raspratt.com
Also by R. A. Spratt
The Adventures of Nanny Piggins
Nanny Piggins and the Wicked Plan
Nanny Piggins and the Runaway Lion
Nanny Piggins and the Accidental Blast-Off
Nanny Piggins and the Rival Ringmaster
Nanny Piggins and the Pursuit of Justice
Nanny Piggins and the Daring Rescue
Nanny Piggins and the Race to Power
The Nanny Piggins Guide to Conquering Christmas
Friday Barnes: Girl Detective
Friday Barnes: Under Suspicion
Al
l rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including printing, photocopying (except under the statutory exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968), recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of Random House Australia. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Version 1.0
Friday Barnes: Big Trouble
9780857987006
Published by Random House Australia 2015
Copyright © R. A. Spratt 2015
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
A Random House Australia book
Published by Random House Australia Pty Ltd
Level 3, 100 Pacific Highway, North Sydney NSW, 2060
www.randomhouse.com.au
Random House Books is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com.
First published by Random House Australia in 2015
National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication Entry
Author: Spratt, R. A.
Title: Big trouble [electronic resource]
ISBN: 978 0 85798 700 6 (ebook)
Series: Friday Barnes; 3
Dewey Number: A823.3
Cover illustration by Lilly Piri, www.littlegalaxie.com
Cover design by Kirby Armstrong
