Emily's Penny Dreadful by Bill Nagelkerke

disappears,” Miley
added.
      “ And then you lose
count of your matches,” Ned said.
      “ I can still count
them, in my head,” Miley insisted.
      But she couldn’t.
With her eyes closed, she kept going off into happy little dreams
of Hippo Banks, parapluies and Mama’s story nights and she lost
count of her matches, quick smart.  
      Dreams are like
stories, thought dreamy Miley, and stories are words; words that
follow one another in a crocodile file, like children going to soap
or sweet factories on school outings.
      Sometimes words are
like water, flowing, cool and refreshing. Other times they’re like
stepping-stones over a stream, but they can’t always take you
across dangerous spaces and get you home safely, no matter how many
words there are.
      “ Keep counting!”
Bacon suddenly yelled, right in Miley’s left ear.
      All the words in
Miley’s head were instantly flooded away.
     
     

Chapter Eight
     
    Emily went into the room she was sharing
with Sibbie and found her sister face down on the bed, reading.
    She wasn’t reading Uncle
Raymond’s Penny Dreadful. Sibbie wasn’t reading one of her silly
girlfriend-boyfriend books, either. She had started reading Emily’s
story!
      “ You’re a thief!”
Emily screamed. “A nasty, nosey, obnoxious, horrible
thief.”
      “ It takes one to
know one,” said Sibbie, “so chill out, sis. If you didn’t want
anyone to read your stupid story you shouldn’t have left it lying
around in such an obvious place. Beside, all I’ve read is the first
chapter which, if you want my opinion, is far too short, even
though it’s more than long enough for me.  To tell the truth,
I was going to stop reading at exactly the same moment as you
started raging.”
      Emily’s anger
subsided. “Honestly?”
      “ Cross my heart and
hope to die,” said Sibbie. “I thought it might have gotten better
after the first line, but it didn’t.”
      If Sibbie was
telling the truth, Emily was glad. Very
    glad. Because chapter two mentioned the
fight between Miley and her older sister and Sibbie was bound to
think the older sister was meant to be her. (It was. She was also
the bad-tempered, match-flicking Bibsie, too, later on in the
story, but Emily wasn’t going to tell Sibbie that. It would only
cause a fight, one that Emily was bound to lose.)
      “ Did you like
Miley?” Emily asked.
      “ I’ve hardly got to know her,’ said Sibbie. “And why do you
pronounce her name Millie? You mean Miley , don’t you? It’s just Emily,
with the letters scrambled.”
      “ Maybe,” said Emily. “But it’s said Millie , not Mile - y .”
      “ Miley can’t be said
Millie. If you put an s in front of her name you’d say Smiley. Not
Smillie.”
      “ That’s my
business,” said Emily.
      “ I’m right, you’re
wrong,” said Sibbie. “Have you finished the whole thing?” she
asked, handing the exercise book back to Emily.
      “ No,” said Emily.
“Miley’s been kidnapped, sort of. Not like Ned exactly but it come
to the same thing.”
      “ Who’s
Ned?”
      “ A boy Miley
meets.”
      “ Her boyfriend?”
Sibbie suddenly looked a lot more interested.
      “ No!” said Emily. “Miley doesn’t have time for boyfriends .’
      “ Pity,” said
Sibbie.
      “ She has to escape,”
Emily said. “Only I haven’t thought of a way for her to escape
yet.”
      “ Maybe she could
find something like a jet pack and fly away,” suggested
Sibbie.
      “ They don’t have jet
packs in Miley’s time,” said Emily.
      “ Oh, right. I didn’t
know the story was set in the olden days,” said Sibbie. “That’s
going to be a problem then, isn’t it, no jet packs or mobiles or
any useful stuff like that? Have you asked Uncle Raymond for
ideas?”
      “ His computer screen
was blank the last time I looked,” said Emily. “I don’t think he’s
got a single idea left.”
     

Chapter Nine
     
    With yet another week gone,