How Kirsty Jenkins Stole the Elephant (8 page)

Monday 2

.

Chapter 17

Kirsty woke early, before her alarm. Would the letter come today? Was the allotment going to be hers? She crept quietly out of bed, so as not to wake Dawn. She pulled on her coat and waited outside the front door for the postman with a tingly feeling running through her body. It was like waiting for presents on Christmas Eve – unbearable and brilliant at the same time.

‘Morning,' Kirsty said to the postman.

‘Glorious day,' he said.

Kirsty looked up at the low grey sky. You probably had to be a cheerful sort of person to be a postman. She smiled. ‘Any post for Katy Jennings?'

‘Sadly no. However, I do have a hundredweight of supermarket flyers. Perhaps I could interest you in taking a few handfuls of those?'

‘No thanks. See you tomorrow.'

Tuesday

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Chapter 18

Still no letter.

Wednesday

.

Chapter 19

Nothing. Nil. Nought. Nowt. Zip. Zero.

.

Sweet dang doodle diddly-squat.

Thursday

.

Chapter 20

Kirsty dragged her school bag behind her on the way home. It banged against her ankles, but she didn't bother lifting it higher. There had been no letter that morning either. Had it gone wrong? Had Mr Thomas found out? Were the police on their trail for breaking into the office?

Kirsty opened the front door and dropped her bag down on the mat.

‘Kirsty?'

‘Hi, Mum.'

‘Come here, please.'

Kirsty shuffled into the living room. Mum was sitting on the couch. She had an envelope in one hand and a letter in the other. Kirsty could just make out the red crest of the council at the top of the paper. Oh no. This was bad.

‘A really strange letter came in the second post this afternoon. A
really
strange letter.'

The second post! She'd forgotten all about that! This was a disaster.

Mum shook the letter. ‘It's not for us. It's for someone called Katy Jennings. And they've given her an allotment. On Grandad's old site. Have you got any idea why they would have sent us this?'

How on earth could Kirsty explain that one? Was there a convincing story just waiting to be thought of? Was there a brilliant excuse she could use? Kirsty sped through some of her favourite excuses.
I was abducted by aliens so I couldn't do my homework. I didn't make the mess – a runaway train raced through and sent everything flying. I can't wash up just now – a troupe of dancing elephants need their tutus altered before tonight's big show
. They were all great excuses, but none of them would get her out of this trouble. There must be something she could tell Mum.

‘Kirsty, did you hear what I said?'

None of those excuses were any good. It had to be something believable. Something simple. Kirsty took a deep breath. ‘The council must have got confused and made a mistake. They must have got the addresses muddled. But it's a good mistake, isn't it? They've given it to us, just like Grandad wanted. It's like fate or something.'

Mum looked doubtful. ‘Don't you think it's weird that they got our address? Seems a bit fishy.'

‘No, no. Not at all. It must have been on Grandad's file, you know. And the computer just got confused. Computers go wrong all the time. Remember when Ben almost bought a house on the internet by mistake?'

‘Of course I remember. I nearly had a heart attack.'

‘Well, this will just be like that – the computer doing something weird. But, if I keep the allotment, I can keep my promise to Grandad too. I can keep it now, can't I?'

Mum stared hard at the letter. She didn't speak. She stroked the edge of the paper with her thumb. Kirsty focused hard on Mum's face, trying to send hypnotic signals into her brain.
Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes
.

‘I'm sorry Kirsty, but I can't just say yes. The whole thing seems odd. I'm going to have to speak to the council about it. Whoever this Katy Jennings is, she's been waiting for this letter. It isn't fair that we take it from her.'

‘But, Mum. What about fate? What about destiny?' Kirsty was getting desperate.

‘We'll see. I'll speak to the council and see what they say. I can't say fairer than that.'

This was worse than a disaster. The most terrible thing that could happen was for Mum to speak to Mr Thomas. It would all come out: how they'd followed him, the fire alarm, perhaps even the break-in if they investigated hard enough. Mum couldn't call the council.

‘Don't speak to the council, please. If we don't tell them, they won't find out. Please, Mum?'

‘Kirsty, stop it. You can't just keep it. There's too much going on right now, with your dad and everything. We talked about this. I know you miss Grandad, we all do, but you have to let this go.'

‘What? Like Dad's doing? He's not letting it go, hiding away in bed all the time, is he?'

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Kirsty wished that she could claw them back in again. Mum looked shocked. The room suddenly felt very small, as though the walls had rushed in around them.

‘Kirsty Anne Jenkins,' Mum said slowly. ‘That's a horrible thing to say.'

Kirsty felt her face flush. She really hadn't meant to say anything. But she had. She took a deep breath.

‘Mum,' she said quietly. ‘What's wrong with Dad?'

It was as though a shutter had clanged closed. Mum's face was blank. ‘There's nothing wrong with your father. Now go and get changed out of your school uniform.'

‘But, Mum –'

‘I
said
go and get changed, Kirsty.'

Kirsty turned towards the stairs. There was no point arguing.