Fizzlebert Stump by A.F. Harrold

‘I’m sorry I need a new pencil first,’ or ‘William the Conqueror beat King Harold at the Battle of Hastings in 1066.’)
    Instead he embarrassed himself by saying, ‘I’ve only got some pyjamas, but they’re a bit tatty, sorry.’
    To which Mr Carvery stormed and blustered, ‘Well then, Truffle, it’s a beautiful warm sunny day out there, you can do it in your vest and pants.’
    The room went silent. This was getting interesting.
    â€˜Pardon?’ said Fizz, who thought the man had just asked him to do exercise in his vest and pants.
    â€˜Vest and pants, now!’ Mr Carvery bellowed.
    Oh well, Fizz thought. Today started off weird, then it got weirder, but I need to talk to Dympna again. I’d best join in with the weird and not make trouble.
    In a minute Fizz was stood in his underwear (and slippers). Fortunately they were relatively clean, even after the night’s adventure, and didn’t have embarrassing pictures of ponies or flowers on. In fact, odd as it seems, Fizz didn’t feel embarrassed at all. He
almost
felt more at home than he had all morning.
    As you might be aware, in between the last book I wrote about Fizz (
Fizzlebert Stump and the Girl Who Lifted Quite Heavy Things
) and this one (
Fizzlebert Stump: The Boy Who Did P.E. in His Pants
), Fizz and his father have been working hard to perfect their strongman (and son) act.Mr Stump, in traditional strongman style, wears a little off-the-shoulder leopard-skin caveman affair, but for Fizz, who, being the smaller partner in the act, gets picked up a lot and twirled a little and who tumbles (in the sense of doing rolls and flips), something else is needed, something less
flappy
. So they made him what is effectively a set of sparkly vest and pants with glittery plimsolls.
    So, you see, wearing his vest and pants wasn’t the end of the world. In fact, it was a way for Fizz to feel momentarily more comfortable.
    â€˜Come on! Quickly! Out to the field, everyone,’ shouted Mr Carvery, opening the outside door.
    The kids rushed out, bouncing and hopping and giggling (a lot of them liked to doanything other than sitting in a classroom learning, but they were the weird ones). Fizz dragged along behind them.
    As he reached the door Dympna was waiting for him.
    â€˜I can’t go out,’ she said. ‘I’ll start sneezing.’
    Fizz looked sad. He’d hoped he might get to talk to her again.
    â€˜But I made you this,’ she said slipping him a folded-up piece of paper. ‘It’s a map. The circus is in the field behind my house. I saw them when I got up this morning.’
    â€˜Are you sure?’
    â€˜Great big tent? Lots of caravans and trucks and clowns and things?’
    â€˜That’s it.’
    â€˜It’s not far from here. Ten minutes’ walk.’
    â€˜Really?’
    â€˜Yeah, you’re practically home, Fizzlebert Stump,’ she said.
    Her eyes were tearing up and her nose was beginning to run.
    â€˜Truffle,’ yelled Mr Carvery, from outside the door. ‘I just knew
you’d
still be here. Get out. And … What’s this? You’ve made Dympna cry? You horrible girl. Get out now! Up to the field! I’ll have you doing laps for an hour.’
    Fizz, tucking the map into his pants, did as he was told.
    â€˜Thank you,’ he said to Dympna as he left.
    â€˜Leave her alone, you horrible bully!’ shouted Mr Carvery, slamming the door behind them and pushing Fizz in front of him up to the big field.
    Dympna watched them go and went back to reading her book (which coincidentally enough was
Fizzlebert Stump: The Boy Who Ran Away From the Circus (and joined the library)
which had only just come out at this point in time and was another reason she’d suspected he wasn’t Piltdown.
    Mr Carvery was keeping his tracksuit from getting dirty or sweaty by driving alongside Fizz in a little golf