Fleeced by Hazel Edwards Page A

Gertrude’s sandwich. She hadn’t even unwrapped it.
    â€˜ ‘Hey!’ Gertrude was ultra-upset. She grabbed the sandwich back and stuffed it in her pocket.
    Once they’d finished lunch, or the keas had stolen it, people left at their own pace. There was a slight mix up with the backpacks. Most people had left theirs resting against the wall. Amy had left 108 leaning on the seat. Gertrude had left 801 nearby.
    â€˜Our numbers are the same, upside down,’ Amy observed, helping Gertrude with her pack. Her woollen jumper had dried already. ‘Easy to mix up.’
    â€˜My lucky numbers,’ said Gertrude. ‘I always use 1 and 0 and 8 for everything. In advance, my son especially requested that number backpack from Zoe. He had it too. But there was a mix up. She gave me 801 instead. My lucky numbers, but in the wrong order. I even live at number 108. My son used to live with me. ‘
    â€˜Where does he live now?’ asked Amy.
    â€˜On a farm.’
    Amy thought about those numbers. ‘When did your son walk the Track?’
    â€˜A few weeks ago.’ Then Gertrude’s face looked sad. ‘He’ll be cross that I nearly lost my watch in the river. He likes unusual watches. He gave me that.’
    â€˜But you’ve still got it.’ said Amy comfortingly. Sometimes Gertrude didn’t seem veryclever. Was there some reason that her son thought she might remember those numbers? Could he have been the one to leave the half photo? But there must have been several trekkers using that backpack in-between. Amy noticed that Gertrude put her uneaten sandwich into her pack. Perhaps she just wasn’t hungry? Or was there another reason?
    â€˜Don’t you like crunchy peanut butter sandwiches?’ Amy asked.
    Gertrude shrugged. ‘Not today. I’m saving it for later.’
    Zoe was hurrying the stragglers to start. Dr Al was already at the top of the roughly built steps made from sleepers. They were moving into a dank and green forested area now.
    â€˜Keep your eyes open for tiny native orchids,’ said Zoe.
    â€˜Could you pretend to sling your pack on again, please, Dr Al?’ Dad was sheltering his lens from the rain.
    The drizzle had turned into a regular shower.
    â€˜Now?’ Dr Al was very obliging.
    It wasn’t like Dad to mess up shots. But the constant rain was making filming difficult as Dr Al climbed the sleeper steps, again. The camera also picked up Gertrude’s numbered pack as she walked down the track. 801.
    Amy decided to check on how often packs were recycled.

Chapter 7
Dr Al’s 70th
    â€˜Lights out! Sing,’ directed Dad.
    â€˜Happy birthday dear Dr Al, Happy 70th to you.’
    Christopher helped Zoe carry the cake. The 7 and the O candles were stuck on top. Trekkers sang loudly, in their own languages. Birthdays were international.
    After blowing out the candles, Dr Al seemed overwhelmed. ‘Where did you get the special candles?’
    â€˜Christopher’s backpack.’ said Amy. ‘ Zipped side pocket.’
    â€˜Carried instead of that computer game,’ said Mum quickly.
    â€˜Thank you Amy and everybody else. Have a slice of my cake.’
    â€˜Dr Al’s 70th birthday is tomorrow. That’s why we’re making the documentary,’
    Dad told Hiroshi as they ate the cake. ‘The Milford Track is where he started training for his explorations.’
    â€˜Pompolona is an unusual name for a hut,’ said Hiroshi in very correct English, checking the map.
    â€˜Like the wart thing I got on my foot?’ asked Amy. Last term she’d gone to the doctor about her sore foot.
    â€˜That was a pap- something.’
    â€˜Papaloma? No. ‘ Zoe shook her head. ‘ This is named after a pan scone. We’ll have some for supper. The explorer Mackinnon used to melt mutton fat candles into a pan when he was cooking pancakes. A special flavour. The original spelling of the dish