All the Fun of the Fair: A hilarious, brilliantly original coming-of-age story that will capture your heart by Caroline Hulse

Author:Caroline Hulse [Hulse, Caroline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781409197263
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2021-05-27T00:00:00+00:00

26

A spy cell is only as strong as its weakest member.

The Junior Spy’s Secret Handbook™

Eleven days to the fair

The rest of the weekend passed without anything exciting going on. When I waited for Lewis at the lamppost on Monday morning, there was a big truck outside 56 George Street, and a dirty yellow skip in the driveway. Carl was outside in a T-shirt and shorts, talking to a man in grey overalls.

He saw me and waved. I waved back.

Lewis walked up and stared.

I shrugged. ‘Just waving to Carl.’

‘Hey, kid!’ Carl waved both hands now, trying to get our attention. ‘Lewis, is it?’

Lewis looked at me in panic. He set off in a rush.

‘Come back!’ Carl crinkled his face up in confusion. ‘Why are you running? I won’t bite. I just want to talk to you about some strimming!’

I hurried after Lewis and found him in the park.

‘Strimming.’ He looked like a wild animal was after him. ‘Strimming! What is strimming?’

‘I’m sure it’s nothing bad. He wouldn’t shout it in the street, would he?’

‘We don’t know what he’s capable of, Fi! That’s the whole point!’

‘I’ve decided Carl might not be a strange man after all. I’ve got him all wrong. And think about it. If strimming is like flashing, he wouldn’t be making a big deal of it. Flashers don’t shout I’m flashing, do they? They just open their coats and do it.’

‘I feel dizzy,’ Lewis said. ‘And I’ve got a tummy ache.’

‘You’ve just got scared and ran too soon after breakfast.’

‘Do I look right to you?’

I stopped and gave a big sigh. I turned to study him.

His skin was shiny with sweat. He had a fuzzy look in his eyes.

‘You look fine,’ I said kindly. I pulled on his arm. ‘Come on.’

School news. But not good school news.

Turns out Lewis was ill.

He threw up in English, all over his copy of The Taming of The Shrew, and his mum had to come and pick him up. I’m not in that English class, but I heard Mr Kellett told all the kids to get back, while the rest of the class laughed and pointed and made Jaws music ner-ner-ner-ner and Robert Kitson shouted, Harris is about to blow!

Which – turned out – he was.

Everyone heard about it. Which meant I hoped Lewis was off ill for a few days, at least. For his own sake.

On the way home, I headed down George Street. It was fine – I felt way more relaxed walking past Carl’s house now.

The van had gone but, next to the skip, there were boxes and old household things. A broken lamp. A metal shelf. A frilly tissue box.

Carl came outside carrying a box. His T-shirt had a cartoon with Duff Beer on it, even though that’s from The Simpsons, and The Simpsons is a show for kids.

He rested the box on the edge of the skip and started pulling things out.

I crossed the road. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Getting rid of Mum’s stuff.’ Carl got a lamp out of the box and placed it on the lid of the skip.

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