The Great Brain Robbery (20 page)

‘Wes! Wait!’ he yelled.

But Wes had already rushed through the front door.

Seconds later, Frankie burst into the house after him and CRASH!! He ran straight into Eddie, sending a plateful of mince pies spinning through the air.

‘Frankie, Frankie! Whatever is the matter?’ Eddie exclaimed, as Colette caught the falling pies in her jaws.

‘Sorry, Eddie,’ Frankie puffed breathlessly, as Neet and Timmy piled into the house behind him. ‘Where’s Wes? What’s happening?’

‘Deary me, calm down,’ smiled Eddie. ‘We have guests, that’s all. Now take off your snowy boots and go and say hello.’

As Frankie pulled off his wellies, he heard shouts of excitement coming from the lounge. He ran in to see a man with curly red hair and a woman with spectacles as thick as jam-jars hugging
Wesley tightly and lifting him high in the air. Frankie smiled and wiped his brow in relief as he recognised the surprise guests.

‘Mum! Dad!’ Wes cried in delight.

‘We’re so sorry, Wesley,’ said Mrs Jones.

‘What happened?’ cried Wes. ‘Where did you go? I thought you’d been eaten by a lion, or sat on by an elephant!’

‘We got completely lost, didn’t we?’ said Mrs Jones. ‘Completely lost!’

Mr Jones nodded. ‘I was holding the map upside-down,’ he said sheepishly, ‘and then it blew away and got eaten by a baboon.’ Frankie could see that Wes’s parents
weren’t quite as clever as their son.

‘We just got home but didn’t know where you’d gone. It was only when we saw you on the news that we realised what had happened,’ said Mrs Jones. ‘We’re so
sorry, Wesley. We’ll take you with us next time. You know how to use a compass, don’t you, you clever sausage?’

Wes smiled and clung tightly to his parents’ legs. Yes, he knew how to use a compass, and he would never let his mum and dad go wandering off without him ever again.

Once the mince pies had been eaten and the carols sung, Frankie’s friends all went back to their families for Christmas. Frankie waved goodbye from the doorstep, then
closed the door against the snowy winter air. By the time he climbed into bed, he was so tired he thought he might melt into the mattress.

‘Night, night, Frankie,’ said Alphonsine, tucking him in tightly. ‘Happy dreamings. Don’t have any nightscares.’

‘Oh,’ smiled Frankie, turning off the light, ‘I think the nightscare is over. Night, night, Alfie, Eddie. Happy Christmas.’

As Frankie lay in bed, he looked out of the window at the clear Christmas sky. The moon was full as a glass of milk and the stars were sparkling like crystals of sugar. Then,
just as his eyelids began to droop, he thought he saw one star moving quickly through the night. Frankie rubbed his eyes. The star seemed to be changing colour from white to green to red to gold
and he thought, for just a moment, that he heard the distant sounds of sleigh-bells. Was it a shooting star? Was it just the wind shaking the icicles outside his window? Frankie couldn’t be
sure. But, one thing was for certain, as he dropped off to sleep, Frankie Blewitt felt fuller and happier than the biggest Christmas stocking in the world.