Pet Detectives Read online

  YES!!! The M&Ms.

  Mrs Weaver fixed them with a steely gaze. “Emma and Emily,” she said, “I shall be particularly interested to see what you write. You are both clever girls, so I’m sure you will think of something suitable.”

  The M&Ms sat up and looked smug. “Can we work together, Miss?” they asked.

  “That will be fine,” Mrs Weaver said.

  We all got into pairs or threes, but before we started to write Mrs Weaver asked Lyndz to stand up and describe Truffle. Then Mrs Weaver said were there any questions? Danny said something silly about did Truffle live in a chocolate box, but no one else asked anything. We all settled down to write.

  After a while Mrs Weaver asked if any of us had finished, and would we like to read out what we’d written?

  Lyndz went first. She read:

  “Truffle is a special cat because I love her so much. She isn’t very pretty, except I think she is. She is a dark brown tabby with three white paws, and is quite fluffy. When she left home she was wearing a green collar. The collar has my telephone number on it. If you have seen her PLEASE phone me – because I miss her.”

  Mrs Weaver said that was excellent, and then she went over to the M&Ms’ table.

  “Now, Emma and Emily,” she said, “what have you done?”

  They both smirked. It’s the only word I can think of that exactly describes the look on their faces. Then Emma read out:

  “Truffle is a pussy cat

  Who warms my toes at night.

  Her coat is brown and tabby

  With three paws fluffy white.

  Please tell me if you see her,

  Skipping out there in the street,

  And if you do please tell me,

  Because she’s very, very sweet.”

  Everybody clapped except us. Kenny and Lyndz looked at each other, and I saw Kenny cross her eyes. Frankie made being-sick noises, but very quietly, and Rosie rolled her eyes at me.

  Of course Mrs Weaver thought the poem was stunningly clever and ace and the most excellent ever written.

  “There, Lyndsey!” she said. “Wouldn’t you like to use Emma and Emily’s poem? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind. I’ll set the computer up for you at lunchtime … and I think you should thank them for their hard work.”

  Lyndz squirmed about in her seat, and then muttered, “Thanks a lot.”

  The M&Ms sat and smirked.

  Frankie stood up. “Please, Mrs Weaver, I think Lyndz should use her own piece of writing!”

  Mrs Weaver didn’t look that impressed. “Frankie,” she said, “it was you and Lyndsey who suggested it should be a class project. I don’t think you can change your minds now – especially when Emma and Emily have written such a lovely poem.”

  Frankie sat down.

  The rest of the morning was one of the most gruesome we’ve ever lived through. The M&Ms never stopped grinning like a pair of horrible gargoyles, and they offered to write poems for everybody in the class. Even Mrs Weaver got fed up in the end, and told them to be quiet.

  At lunchtime we stayed in and printed about twenty copies of the M&Ms’ pathetic poem, and Mrs Weaver gave us a box to put them in to keep them clean. We left the box on the table by the computer; we didn’t feel like taking it home.

  “You don’t have to use those,” Rosie said as we trailed out.

  “No,” Frankie said. “We could type out your one on Dad’s computer tonight.”

  Lyndz groaned. “Fancy having to thank the M&Ms. And I can’t come round tonight. Mum says it’s time I came straight home after school for once.”

  “Me too,” Rosie said. “Are we still going to Ryan’s party tomorrow? And then having a sleepover?”

  “I’m not even sure about that,” Lyndz said gloomily. “Mum was saying something about some old school friend of hers coming for the weekend. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

  The bell went, and we drooped back into afternoon school. It didn’t feel as if anything was going to go right for us EVER again … but then things changed!

  It was after school. We were chatting while I waited for Callum again, when Rosie suddenly realised she’d left her bag behind. She dashed back into the classroom, and – there were the M&Ms, secretly printing out loads of copies of their poem!!!

  As you can imagine, Rosie came zooming back to tell us.

  “When they saw me,” Rosie said breathlessly, “they switched the screen off double quick, but I could see the pile – even though Emma was trying to sit on it.”

  Our mouths fell open so wide they nearly hit the concrete floor.

  I just stared.

  “Why would they do that?” Kenny asked.

  “What did they say?” said Frankie.

  “What did you say?” said Lyndz.

  Rosie grinned a wicked grin. “I remembered about being a detective,” she said. “I waved, grabbed my bag and ran. I banged the door behind me as I went out … and then I crouched down outside and listened!”

  “COOL!” said Frankie. “What did you hear?”

  “I couldn’t hear what they were saying,” Rosie said. “But I heard the printer running again as soon as I was outside the door – so I know they think I didn’t see anything.”

  “WOW!” Kenny’s eyes were shining. “Those M&Ms are up to something again – but this time I think we might be one step ahead!”

  “So what should we do?” I asked.

  “One of us ought to sneak back in,” Lyndz said. “See what they’re doing now.”

  “I can’t,” Rosie said. “They’ll be suspicious if it’s me.”

  “HEY!” Kenny gave a huge jump in the air. “I’ve got it! Fliss, you can go! You can ask them if they’ve seen Callum!”

  “ACE!!!” Frankie banged Kenny on the back. “They’ll never suspect Fliss! They’ll just think the pest has escaped again!”

  I was halfway back to the classroom when I met the M&Ms coming towards me.

  “Hi!” I said, “have you seen Callum?”

  “Dear me,” Emily said, “have you lost him? How careless! First it’s a cat, then a brother! You’d lose your head if it wasn’t screwed on!”

  They are just sooo sad. I ignored them and walked straight on.

  Of course I knew Callum wouldn’t be in the classroom – but I still went in. I thought I might do a little detecting too. The computer was switched off and everything was tidy – until I saw the wastepaper bin. It was stuffed full of crumpled up sheets of paper.

  CLUES!!!! I thought, and I grabbed the top couple of sheets.

  It was their poem, just as Rosie had thought. The two copies I had were a bit blurry, so they must have thrown them out. I stood up, and glanced at it – and then I froze. I really did! You read about people freezing in stories, but I’ve never known what it meant before. But it’s true – your arms and legs feel totally switched off. But my brain was working, and I couldn’t believe what I was reading.

  “Truffle is a pussy cat

  Who warms my toes at night.

  Her coat is brown and tabby

  With three paws fluffy white.

  Please tell me if you see her,

  Skipping out there in the street,

  And when you do please tell her,

  I promise to wash my smelly feet!”

  I wanted to zoom back to the others yelling at the top of my voice, but I didn’t. I looked at all the other sheets of paper in the bin. The M&Ms had been working on the poem and changing bits, but – and isn’t this a mega-brilliant bit of detective work? – I detected that the sheets on the top must have been the last dropped in the bin – so that must have been what they’d been printing out when Rosie saw them! I stuffed the two sheets of paper in my pockets and ran right out of school.

  Kenny and Lyndz were sitting on the bench when I came bursting out. Rosie and Kenny were talking to Callum, who was looking very grumpy. What’s new?

  “I want to go HOME!!!” he said as soon as he saw me. “I want to go NOW!!!”

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nbsp; “Callum,” I said, “if you are very, very good and give me ten minutes we’ll go home past the pet shop.”

  That shut him up. He went skipping off to the water fountain.

  The Sleepover Club could tell from my face that I’d found something!!!! I reached into my pocket, and snatched out the pieces of paper with a flourish. Rosie grabbed one and Kenny grabbed the other, and Frankie and Lyndz peered over their shoulders.

  “This is just that awful poem,” Frankie said. “What’s so special about—OH!”

  Lyndz and Kenny got to the same bit at the same time.

  “RIGHT!!!” Kenny yelled. “This is WAR!!!”

  They read it again. And again.

  “Well done, Fliss,” Lyndz said, and I glowed.

  “What are we going to do now?” I asked.

  Frankie was screwing up her face. “You know what I think? I think the M&Ms are going to swap the poems – so when we get to Ryan’s party everybody reads this load of rubbish!!!”

  We stared at her. It seemed obvious now she had said it.

  “Was our box of poems still there?” Frankie asked me.

  “Yes,” I said. “It was on the table.”

  “I know!” Kenny said. “Why don’t we take our poems out of the box, and put something HORRIBLE in it instead – something that’ll really make them shriek?”

  “SPIDERS!” Rosie said. “We could fill it full of spiders!”

  “YUCK!!!!!” I said. “I’m not catching spiders – not even to scare the M&Ms!”

  “Nor me,” Lyndz said.

  “I can catch spiders,” said a squeaky voice just behind us.

  We jumped – it was Callum.

  I was about to shout at him for listening in to our conversation again when Kenny stopped me.

  “Can you really catch spiders, Callum?” she asked.

  “‘Course I can,” he said. “How many do you want? There’s LOADS and LOADS in our shed.”

  “No there aren’t!” I said.

  Callum looked rather pink. “Yes, there are. I put them there.”

  Rosie clamped her hand over my mouth. “Well done, Callum!” she said. “Can you bring them to school tomorrow?”

  Callum nodded. “Can I have them back after?”

  “NO!!!!” I said.

  “Callum,” Kenny said, “if you bring the spiders in you can come to my house and play with my rat. Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

  Callum thought about it. Then he looked at me. “And can we still go to the pet shop on the way home? You did say.”

  I gave in. “Yes,” I said.

  “FAB!!” Frankie began to dance around the playground. “Hey – Fliss – make sure you get here before the bell! And we’ll have to watch those two extra carefully to make sure they don’t swap the poems before we’ve done our dirty deed!!!!”

  “Help!” Rosie looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go! Mum’ll kill me!”

  “Me too,” Lyndz said.

  Everyone was smiling, now we had an ace plan, but I wasn’t looking forward to Operation Spider. The next morning Callum and I walked to school one behind the other. Oh, I know the spiders were in a box inside another box, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

  The others were waiting.

  “COOL!” Kenny said. “When will we put them in the poem box?”

  “We’ll have to do it at break time,” Rosie said. “I’ll put the poem box on our table until then so they won’t be able to fiddle with it.”

  “Do you know,” Lyndz said slowly, “I think they’ll try at the end of the day … in case we notice.”

  “That’s settled, then,” Frankie said. “Oh – and don’t forget to bring your pyjamas tomorrow night. Mum says it’s OK if we have a sleepover after the party.”

  “BRILLIANT!!!”

  The morning dragged until break time. I kept looking at Kenny’s bag. I knew the box of spiders was inside – what if they got out? But at least they had two boxes to eat their way through. YUCKKKK!!!!

  Then – would you believe it? – when break time finally came it was raining, so it was wet play and nobody went out of the classroom at all. The only thing that cheered us up was that the M&Ms kept winking at each other, and sniggering. They had something planned – that was for sure. And they asked us about three times each if we were going to the party, and if we were going to give everyone one of their poems. Rosie had a secret peep to see if they’d already done a swap, but they hadn’t.

  It had stopped raining by lunchtime.

  “Mrs Weaver, shall we tidy up the classroom?” Emily asked in her sweetest be-nice-to-the-teacher voice. “Emma doesn’t feel very well, so we’d rather not go out.”

  We held our breath.

  “No, Emily,” Mrs Weaver said firmly. “You’ve been in all morning – a blast of fresh air will do you both good.” And she swept us all out in a no-nonsense sort of way.

  “Oh – Mrs Weaver!” Frankie popped up beside her. “Can I fetch my jumper from the coat pegs?”

  “Hurry up, then,” Mrs Weaver said, and Frankie winked at us, and scooted off.

  I don’t think we’ve ever hurried back after lunch before – but this time we did. It was OK – we were there before the M&Ms. Mrs Weaver had stopped them in the corridor to ask Emma how she was feeling – they looked so fed up!

  I was even more nervous in the afternoon. The poem box was back on the table by the computer – but now I knew it was full of spiders! First we had maths, and then we had history – and then – I can hardly tell you for laughing!

  It was very nearly the end of school. We were all twitching. What if we’d been wrong? What if the M&Ms weren’t planning to swap their poem for ours? And then Emily got up, and went over to the computer.

  “Mrs Weaver,” she said, “can I type out my project?”

  Mrs Weaver was busy, so she just nodded. Emma got up next, and went over to the computer too … carrying her bag. She bent down, winked at Emily and pulled a pile of papers out of her bag – and then knocked the box on to the floor.

  SCREAM!!!!!! The M&Ms were standing on the computer table clutching each other and shrieking their heads off. Paper was scattered all round them, while half a dozen fat spiders were heading for dark corners as fast as they could go.

  OK, I admit it. I screamed too. And I leapt on to our table.

  Mrs Weaver was so angry. She actually shouted at us all to be quiet … and then she picked up one of the pieces of paper. She only glanced at it at first, but then she frowned.

  “What EXACTLY is going on here?” she asked.

  And then it all came out. The M&Ms were so shaken that they told Mrs Weaver exactly what they’d done …

  PHEW!!!!! We almost felt sorry for the M&Ms. But of course, there were the spiders to explain. So – we got a major telling off too. We’re all picking litter up in playground every break next week. But it was worth it!!!!

  I bet you thought that was the end! But it isn’t – because I haven’t told you about the party.

  No, it’s OK. I know you may not want to know about what I wore – though it did look very nice. (No, I’m not boasting. Ryan said so. And so did Lyndz.) No – I wanted to tell you the most AMAZING thing.

  We’d arranged to meet outside so we could all go in together. We always do that at parties. It means you don’t have to stand around on your own. Anyway, Lyndz was the last to arrive. She looked puffed out.

  “What’s up?” Kenny said.

  “Dad took me round to the cats’ home.” Lyndz said. “After all that fuss with the M&Ms I suddenly thought we still haven’t done anything about finding poor Truffle. Dad was feeling sympathetic, so we went to look – but she wasn’t there.” Lyndz gave a huge sigh. “I think she’s gone forever.” And a tear rolled down her cheek.

  Then Frankie did one of the nicest things ever. She swallowed hard, and she said, “Lyndz – if you like, you can have Muffin. He’ll make you feel better – really, he will.”

  Lyndz shook her he
ad. “Thanks, Frankie,” she said. “But I don’t want another cat. Not yet. I want Truffle. But thank you.”

  Frankie gave a sort of cough. “Let’s go and get this over with,” she said, and she rang Ryan’s door bell.

  Ryan’s mum opened the door – and there, right in the middle of the hall, was Truffle!!!! She was was looking very thin, and her front paw was bandaged – but we all knew it was her. She knew Lyndz, too. She began to purr the loudest purr you ever heard – and Lyndz sat down on the doorstep and cuddled her and hugged her.

  Ryan’s mum was very nice. She told us she’d found Truffle mewing in her back garden with her paw swollen right up. She’d taken her to the vet, and he’d treated the paw, but no one knew where Truffle came from. She wasn’t wearing her collar – so it must have fallen off somewhere.

  “Didn’t Ryan tell you we’d taken in a lost cat?” she asked.

  “No,” Frankie said, and she looked very hard at Ryan when he came out to see what all the noise was.

  Ryan went as pink as Callum does when he’s done something wrong. “I didn’t think it was your cat, honestly,” he said. “You said yours had a green collar. And—” he shuffled his feet, “it was really nice having a cat again.”

  His mum gave him a funny look – half cross, half not. “But you can’t have this one, Ryan,” she said. “Not if it belongs to Lyndsey.” She looked thoughtful for a minute while Ryan looked at the ground. “But how about we go to Mr Garez’s pet shop tomorrow and see if he has any kittens for sale?”

  Ryan looked so pleased I thought he was going to burst. “Really?” he said and when his mum nodded he squeezed her so hard. Then he saw us all looking and coughed and tried to look cool. But we knew he was thrilled really.

  So – it was all happy endings. Lyndz had Truffle back, and when we had our sleepover that night Truffle sat on her toes all night, and Lyndz wouldn’t move so we had to pass her biscuits and coke and stuff as if she was a queen or something.

  And there are more happy endings! Muffin is EVER so happy at Mrs Brierley’s house, and is growing huger and huger every day. We’re always popping round to see him, and Mrs B of course.