Attack of the Cupids by John Dickinson

bit of murder behind the statues, because he was
not
going back downstairs for a career interview. Career interviews with Low Command tended to be painful and when they were over the only career options left would be as (a) somebody’s wall ornament, or (b) their mittens. The sort of people Muddlespot worked for did not like failure.
    He tensed. He leaped to the corner of the passage, claws bared. The passage was empty.
    â€˜Hello?’
    In the darkness at the far end, something scuttled.
    Warily Muddlespot stole forward. He entered a small octagonal chamber. The light here was tinted just faintly maroon. The chamber too was empty. He listened. He heard nothing.
    Or maybe – maybe – the whisper of bare feet, receding quickly down a distant corridor, and a soft explosion of sound that disappeared with it.
    It might have been a snigger.
    The air had a huge stillness, as if the whole of Sally’s being was holding her breath. (Which it very well might be.)
    There
was
something in the room: something small, lying in the middle of the floor like a sweet packet that someone had dropped.
    Litter, in the mind of Sally Jones? The rules on litter were
very
strict.
    It was a folded bit of card. Muddlespot bent to pick it up.
    As he did so, the floor shook.
    â€˜It’s not FAIR!’ Billie screamed.
    â€˜Yes it is,’ said Sally. They were face to face in the kitchen at home. Sally’s feet were planted, her arms were folded. She wasn’t backing down. Not even when Billie thrust her face, red as a ripe tomato, within centimetres of Sally’s own.
    â€˜Sweetheart,’ Mum pleaded from the sidelines, ‘you don’t have to invite anyone you don’t want to . . .’
    â€˜She already has,’ said Sally. ‘How’s Holly going to feel now if you tell her you don’t want her after all?’
    â€˜But she makes me
sick
! I just look at her and I feel
sick
! All the time I’m sitting at the table with her in school, I’m trying not to throw up! And I’ve
got
to have her because
Sally’s
invited
Kaz
!
    â€˜Kaz is coming,’ said Sally. ‘I can’t uninvite her.’
    â€˜No,’ said Mum. ‘Of
course
Kathy is coming. Billie – why don’t you just
talk
to Holly and clear up whatever the matter is? Last week you were best friends . . .’
    â€˜
NO!
’ shrilled Billie. ‘We weren’t
ever
! And the trouble with Holly is HOLLY!’
    â€˜Oh,’ said Mum.
    â€˜All right. Tell Holly you don’t want her and invite someone else,’ said Sally.
    â€˜There
is
no one else!’
    â€˜What about Josh? He’s nice.’
    â€˜NO.
BOYS!
’ screamed Billie.
    â€˜That does it!’ fumed the Inner Sally, who wasn’t feeling nearly as calm as the Outer Sally was managing to look. ‘I’m going to kill her!’
    â€˜No you aren’t,’ said Windleberry, who was being exactly as calm as the Outer Sally, and even had his arms folded and feet planted in the same way.
    â€˜Then I hope she kills herself! Why doesn’t she?’
    â€˜You don’t mean that.’
    â€˜Don’t I?
We’d
all be happier – and so would she!’
    They stood side by side, looking out through the great windows which were the Outer Sally’s eyes, and which were largely filled with the sight of Billie’s red face.
    â€˜You’re just so
selfish
!’ came Billie’s voice from outside. ‘Selfish-selfish-
selfish
!’
    â€˜
I’m
selfish?’ screamed the Inner Sally. ‘Looked in a mirror lately, have you?’
    â€˜I’m not going to uninvite people I’ve invited,’ said the Outer Sally, without raising her voice. ‘If you don’t want Holly to come, then invite Lauren or someone like that.’
    â€˜Well done,’ said Windleberry.
    â€˜
When
I need your advice . . .’ growled the Inner