The Secret Five and the Stunt Nun Legacy

by John Lawrence

  ‘Stop it!’ cried Daniel loudly, glaring up at the sky. ‘Can’t you see that you’re boring the pants off us?’

  The others stared at Daniel very strangely.

  ‘Daniel, who are you shouting at?’ asked Amy, looking very hard around her.

  ‘Never mind. Sorry Amy. I’ve finished shouting now,’ said Daniel. Then he pointed a finger upwards and shouted, ‘But watch it!’ The others glanced up and then give Daniel the benefit of a long stare and a short frown.

  ‘Honestly,’ murmured Amy to Daniel. ‘Sometimes I do wonder about you. Will you see someone about your mood swings? Promise?’

  Daniel didn’t answer. He was in one of his moods. But in an effort to progress the plot, they decided to cycle a little closer to the castle. They were soon within spitting distance of the castle gates, and Betty persuaded Ricky that it was a really bad idea to try and prove it. She suggested that they abandon the bicycles and cover them with some handy bracken, just in case.

  ‘Just in case of what?’ asked Amy, who was secretly afraid that covering something with handy bracken suggested that, later in the adventure, they would need, very quickly and very urgently, to uncover the something in order to avoid some potentially gruesome fate from a blunt instrument-toting ruffian or a grumpy shotgun-wielding farmer or an alien with six . . .

  ‘Oh for goodness’ sake!’ said Betty, glaring up at the sky. ‘You’re right, Daniel. I thought it would be quite difficult to bore the pants off The Secret Five, but he’s doing a fine job of it!’

  ‘What? Who? Pants?’ squeaked Amy. ‘All I asked is just in case of what?’

  Betty sighed. ‘Amy, just in case, that’s all,’ she said, rather grumpily. ‘Trust me on this. Always expect the unexpected.’

  They all quickly agreed that just in case was a very good reason, so they carefully and obediently hid the bicycles with the handy bracken that had earlier been placed on the hillside by some desperate writer. Then, silently and very secretly, they crept up to the gates of the big old house / castle (trying hard to ignore Whatshisname, who was dashing about outside the gate barking and woofing loudly). They hardly dared breathe, in case the guard heard them and wondered what all the breathing was about. But, as they crept nearer to the gate, they heard a familiar sound! It was a big roar and a big rumble! They dived behind a tree that, unknown to them, had conveniently grown from a seed that fell on that spot eighty-two years ago that very day! What are the chances?

  Whatshisname scampered over to huddle with them, thinking it was a hastily-convened official meeting and not wanting to miss it in case the agenda included a vote on another surprise outing to the vets.

  ‘I recognise that sound,’ whispered Ricky. ‘That roar and rumble.’

  ‘Me too,’ whispered Betty. ‘Look! It’s that big red truck, and it’s leaving! The gate is opening for it.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right! Let’s sneak inside when it’s open,’ proposed Daniel, quite cleverly for someone of his glove size.

  ‘Yes, let’s,’ Amy said, unable to think of anything of a more philosophical nature.

  The gate opened as the big red truck roared and rumbled up to it. It stopped by the gate. The guard walked over in an extremely guard-like manner to chat to the evil-looking driver. The children strained to hear what was being said but, from where they were hiding, it sounded just like mwmnfudmbgbo-o-ohha-hamsandwichmmmmomwl.

  ‘What on earth are they saying?’ Amy asked inquisitively.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Daniel. ‘To me, it sounded something like mwmnfudmbgbo-o-ohha-hamsandwichmmmmomwl.’

  ‘Gosh,’ said Amy, wondering why she wasn’t clever like the others.

  ‘Never mind all that,’ said Betty. ‘Let’s sneak gingerly through the gateway and secretly head for the side of the house! Wait for my secret signal.’

  ‘What’s the secret signal?’ enquired Daniel.

  Betty thought for a while, then said, ‘The secret signal will be when I say go.’

  The others all thought that it was a bit of a boring secret signal, as secret signals go. Indeed, Daniel was about to suggest having a meeting to democratically decide the secret signal, as it was quite an important aspect of any adventure, but he didn’t feel like arguing, so he didn’t, thereby allowing yet another opportunity for dramatic conflict to pass. Nevertheless, he made a scribbled mental note to ensure that the deplorable standard of secret signals was to be included on the agenda at the next meeting and then robustly discussed. He had been thinking a lot about introducing more robust discussions to Secret Five meetings. He felt very strongly about such matters as secret signals but, it must be said, in recent times he had felt even more strongly about the fact that his character didn’t wear spectacles. It just wasn’t right. He would need to address that issue before very long, he knew that. He’d have to choose the right time to raise it, obviously, and not wait until the end of the adventure, when it might be too late for a spectacle request.

  ‘Are you all right, Daniel?’ Betty asked, staring curiously at him.

  ‘Hmm,’ nodded Daniel, now thinking hard about what type of spectacle frame he’d like. Thin wire frames might make him look even more intelligent.

  Betty frowned.

  ‘The signal, Betty?’ Amy whispered.

  ‘I do worry about Daniel sometimes,’ Betty murmured to Amy.

  ‘Me too,’ agreed Amy. ‘But I worry about you even more.’

  Then, at Betty’s boring secret signal, which was a very loud GO! they all emerged very carefully from behind the tree and, after sneaking even more very carefully behind the truck, scampered with an almighty scamper towards the house, past where the portcullis would have been if it had been a proper castle and not just named after a couple called Mr and Mrs Castle who used to live there and named their house . . .

  ‘Stop it NOW!’ yelled Daniel, halting mid-scamper to glare up at the sky. ‘And where’s my spectacles?’

  ‘See? He’s doing it again!’ Amy said to Betty as they scampered on regardless. ‘Why’s he yelling at the sky? Do you think he’s all right?’

  ‘It’s probably an alternative to his urban street talk,’ suggested Betty. ‘I’m not sure which I prefer.’

  Daniel, looking decidedly grumpy, sauntered towards the castle / house to join the others. They had all reached the side of the house safely and unobserved, except for Whatshisname who had screeched to a halt when he heard the guard say ham sandwich. He was now sitting by the guard, eyelids drooping in a starved-dog / feed-me / aren’t I cute pose, and the children could hear the guard talking to him. From where they were huddled it sounded like mmdghufmmm-o-ah-mmmcreosotemmm-pineapplemmmm-o-poo but it might have been more like sodoffstinkydog.

  ‘Let’s leave him there,’ suggested Amy. ‘We need a token sacrifice in the story anyway.’

  ‘But we can’t just desert him,’ said Betty. ‘He’s been our faithful dog through thick and thin. Well, through thick, anyway.’

  ‘Look upon him as a cunning diversion, part of our daring plan,’ suggested Daniel, rather cleverly for a boy who doesn’t wear spectacles and probably never will.

  Amy was about to say how clever Daniel was when suddenly she started. But she finished just as suddenly, so no-one noticed. ‘Look!’ she said, pointing the index finger of her right hand towards a big window which had been conveniently built into the side of the house. ‘There’s a big window that’s been conveniently built into the side of the house, and it’s open!’

  ‘So it is!’ agreed Ricky. ‘Maybe it’s the kitchen window, and maybe there’s delicious treacle tarts in there!’

  ‘Don’t you think we should be rather cautious?’ Betty suggested cautiously. ‘After all, this is a top secret government establishment and they might not take too kindly to us creeping around in it.’

  ‘Well,’ said Daniel, ‘I personally think you’re being a bit hasty saying that we should be cautious.’

  ‘I think I agree,’ chipped in Amy, cautiously yet confidentl
y.

  ‘Are we going to have a meeting about it?’ asked Ricky. ‘Because, if so, I’d like several things added to the agenda.’

  ‘Such as?’ enquired Daniel, thinking he’d found an ally in his search for robust discussions. Bring on the spectacles!

  ‘Well, the privileges for a start – Jennifer Lopez, The Sugababes, that sort of thing,’ said Ricky hopefully.

  ‘Look,’ said Betty in her extra-bossy voice. ‘We haven’t got time for a meeting now, have we? Firstly, that guard might torture and question Whatshisname about the whereabouts of his owners. That we could easily tolerate but, thirdly, our dear Uncle Quagmire’s life might be in danger, remember? He’d never forgive us if he died.’

  ‘True,’ agreed Amy. ‘I’d quite forgotten about all that. You’re so clever, Betty. And I dearly wish that I had a shapely bosom like yours.’

  ‘Oh . . . er, thanks,’ said Betty. ‘Right . . . erm, yes, well, let’s all get through that window and see if we can rescue Uncle Quagmire from a death worse than fate!’

  Chapter Eight

  In which Ricky gets grumpy; more peripheral characters clutter the narrative; Daniel is very irritating, again; Whatshisname saves their bacon, no he really does this time; they all do some corridor creeping and find a door, whoopee doo; the kangaroo gives birth.

  Betty gave them all an ‘I-told-you-so’ look as they all secretly scrambled through the big open window into the next chapter. The four found themselves in a room that looked remarkably like a secret library, with a strange door in one corner and a strange corner in each of the others.

  ‘This room looks remarkably like a secret library,’ breathed Amy. Then she breathed and frowned as an exasperated gasp came from somewhere above their heads.

  ‘Yes,’ said Ricky. ‘And look at all those secret books on the secret shelves! Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’

  ‘Two fluffy kittens fast asleep on a pink cushion with a baby tawny owl looking down at them with its head cocked?’ asked Amy.

  Ricky gave her a strange look, no doubt wondering what utter madness had overtaken his little sister. Two fluffy kittens indeed. He’d been thinking of three, at least.

  Fortunately, Betty decided to take charge. ‘Open the door in that corner, Ricky, and see where it leads to. Or is it to where it leads? Anyone know? Hmmm. I must agendarise the positioning of prepositions sometime. Meanwhile, Ricky, be very careful and somewhat gingerly. Go on! Open it!’

  Ricky suddenly looked a bit grumpy, yet again. ‘Why me?’

  ‘Why you? Because,’ Betty said, ‘it appears to be your task, that’s all. You’re always opening the doors. That’s your job . . . apparently. Look upon it as a vocation.’

  But Ricky still looked mightily grumpy. ‘Can’t someone else open it? I always seem to do it a bit too gingerly.’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ volunteered Daniel, rather bravely for someone who doesn’t like surprises or, for that matter, tinned tuna. But he wanted to show how grown up he was. He strode up to the door and gripped the doorknob. Carefully, very slowly, and very bravely, he turned it and made the door open a bit. He pulled it open further, enough to poke his head through the gap. The others stood and watched, all glad that it wasn’t their head that was at risk.

  Suddenly Daniel slammed the door, yelped, withdrew his head, then slammed it again.

  ‘Someone’s coming!’ he said in a rather squeaky voice. ‘Hide!’

  Everyone was truly astonished, Amy being marginally more truly astonished than Betty, although it was a close call.

  ‘Let’s hide behind those big open curtains by that big open window!’ said Betty. ‘Quickly!’

  The four children all rushed towards the big window and hurriedly hid behind the big curtains. They were just in time because the door opened and suddenly there were voices in the room! The children were terrified by the sudden voices! No, really, this time they were terrified, as there seemed to be two voices, which the children assumed came from two different people (rather than one person talking to himself in two voices, which would have been plain silly). One voice was a gruff-sounding man, the other an ungruff-sounding woman, just to keep it simple.

  ‘Is it done?’ said the gruff-sounding man.

  ‘Yes,’ said the ungruff-sounding woman. ‘He’s gone.’

  ‘Good,’ said the gruff-sounding man.

  I wonder if they’re talking about Uncle Quagmire? Betty thought.

  I wonder, could they be talking about Uncle Quagmire? Amy thought.

  I wonder where the kitchen is, and if there are treacle tarts there? Ricky thought.

  Yo, dis am dred, dis am over-dry, man, an’ which cool dude is them feds snookin’, innit? Daniel thought.

  Then they heard the woman’s ungruff voice again, although she was now starting to sound slightly less ungruff, which could make it confusing. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘that Quagmire fellow has gone back, and now we just wait and see what happens.’

  It was all the children could do to stop a gasp. Indeed, Daniel made a quite discrete attempt at a gasp, which was one of those silent and deadly ones that are so full of meaning yet, at the same time, devoid of any meaning whatsoever.

  ‘He’s gone back to 1964,’ the ungruff woman’s voice said, rather helpfully, ‘thanks to his wonderful invention of . . .’ – she paused for effect – ‘a time machine.’

  This time none of the children could suppress a gasp, except Ricky whose mind was set on treacle tarts and who hadn’t been paying much attention to the narrative.

  ‘Did you hear something?’ the gruff man asked. ‘A sort of unsuppressed gasping sound?’

  ‘I did. It came from over there, by the big open window,’ said the ungruff woman.

  The children froze rigid as they heard the gruff/ungruff couple approach the curtains. They froze slightly more rigid as the couple came and peered out of the window, right by where they were hiding!

  ‘Ah,’ said the gruff man as he peered out. ‘Nothing to worry about. It’s only a fat ugly dog outside the window.’

  And it was! It was Whatshisname, who had rather cleverly realised the pickle that his pals were in, and was sitting outside the open window doing an impression of them gasping unsuppressedly. He tilted his head and gave an extra special unsuppressed gasp as the gruff/ungruff couple looked out of the window.

  ‘She’s only gasping,’ said the ungruff woman.

  She! She! Whatshisname immediately stopped gasping, mortified at the gender assignment, and seriously considered lifting his leg to show them – then again, maybe he would let it pass, just this once. Honestly, humans! They’re supposed to be a dog’s best friend!

  The couple stepped away from the window. ‘Now, so that I know,’ the gruff man said, ‘and not for any expositional reason, I’d like you to tell me, ungruffly if you will, where this time machine is. Can I see it?’

  ‘It’s in the Very Very Secret Room so you can’t,’ said the ungruff woman. ‘And may I say at this point, it’s a good job no-one can hear us, as all this is a top secret government secret, you know.’

  ‘I know,’ said the man, quietly yet knowingly, but still sounding very gruff.

  ‘I know you know,’ said the woman, now sounding slightly gruff enough to not be called an ungruff woman.

  But, by now, it had registered with Ricky what the gruff/slightly gruff couple had said about his Uncle Quagmire, and he couldn’t stop himself emitting a belated unsuppressed gasp. The couple stopped doing whatever they were doing, looked at each other slightly gruffly, yet inquisitively, then laughed and made some gruff comment about the ugly fat gasping dog. They opened the door and left the room without a hint of an explanation why they had briefly popped into that very room to have a secret conversation that would only serve to prolong this interminable adventure.

  But by now The Secret Five knew that this was their call to adventure, the challenge of the first threshold – they were, regrettably, unstoppable. Nothing could prevent the unremitting blitzkrie
g of unnecessary weak adverbs, quite superfluous qualifiers, and exclamation marks!!

  They waited carefully until the gruff voices had disappeared around at least three bends in the corridor before they dared to emerge! Betty stepped out from behind the big curtains and went over to the big open window. She leaned out. ‘Good boy!’ she said to Whatshisname, who looked quite pleased at his gender confirmation. ‘Come on in. Come on!’

  With a bound, head first, Whatshisname leapt through the open window and inside the room. He licked everyone, snuffled a lot, then joined them for a few sticks as they gathered round for an unofficial meeting in the middle of the room.

  ‘Everyone! Did you hear all that about Uncle Quagmire’s time machine?’ said Amy excitedly.

  ‘Yo!’ said Daniel. ‘Fo’ shizzle ma nizzle. Rispect! Mega so squingy, bro, fo’ sho! Innit? Ran-dom!’

  ‘Oh no!’ Betty said. ‘Poor Daniel! It was the shock of nearly being discovered.’

  ‘Shall I slap him?’ asked Amy, rather too enthusiastically.

  ‘No,’ said Betty firmly. ‘We’ll let him calm down a bit, then we can all slap him. First, we have to find this time machine, to see if we can help Uncle Quagmire. Ricky, take a look outside the door.’

  Ricky looked quite grumpy yet again. ‘Why me?’ he squeaked.

  ‘Because Daniel’s in shock, and you’re a man-boy, so it’s your job,’ Betty insisted.

  Ricky, now looking double grumpy, sidled over to the door.

  ‘And don’t sidle!’ said Betty.

  ‘I wasn’t!’ snapped Ricky.

  ‘Betty’s right. I think you were sidling a bit,’ Amy agreed.

  ‘Yo, Cuz!’ said Daniel.

  Ricky’s grumpiness was multiplying like a rather big multiplying something or other. ‘I wouldn’t even know how to sidle, or what it means, or the etymological origins of the word. And anyway, I’m really hungry so I think I can be excused a little sidling . . . if I ever did it . . . which I didn’t.’