Long Shot by Cindy Jefferies Page B

Roddy. “I’ll be fine.”
    Geno started pulling on his tracksuit.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” said Roddy.
    â€œComing with you.”
    â€œThat’s stupid.”
    â€œNo, it’s not,” said Geno. “Jimmy will throw a wobbly if you insist on going down the tunnel, because the note said he had to go alone. But if you go round the back of the main building, straight to the pitch end of the tunnel, you can collect the sock, sprint up the tunnel to us, and the job will be done before Jimmy realises. Just in case anything holds you up, I’ll go to the changing-room end, where Jimmy will be, and look after him until you meet us with the sock.”
    â€œThat’s genius!” said Roddy. “Let’s do it.”
    â€œThen I’m coming, too,” insisted Marek. “Because if I stay, and Mr Clutterbuck comes and asks where you are, I won’t know what to say.”
    There didn’t seem any point in arguing. They all turned their pillows round in their beds so it looked as if they were still there, then Roddy opened the window and they climbed out, one by one.
    The grass was very wet, and they were slightly worried about their shoes leaving tell-tale tracks in the dew, but it couldn’t be helped. Roddy and Marek set off towards the Stadium pitch, while Geno headed for the changing rooms.
    As they approached the main building, Roddy heard a car door slam. “Wait!” he hissed to Marek. They crouched down behind some bushes and paused while someone started up a car.
    â€œOne of the teachers must have guests,” whispered Marek.
    â€œOh no!” groaned Roddy. “It’s Mr Mustard. If he sees us, I’m done for!”
    The boys watched as the teacher got into his car and started it up. For a moment, the headlights lit up the bushes they were hiding behind. They held their breath, but the car drove on, down the drive and towards the main road.
    Roddy and Marek got up cautiously. “Come on. Let’s get this over with,” said Roddy. “What are you doing?” he added.
    Marek was retrieving a football from where it had got wedged in the bushes.
    â€œIt’s a shame to leave this here,” Marek explained. “It’s a good ball. I’ll take it to lost property in the morning.”
    Roddy sighed, but waited for Marek to join him, then together they approached the Stadium pitch.
    â€œWhat’s that?” whispered Roddy. He pointed towards something moving amongst the preserved seats.
    â€œIt must be Jimmy!” said Marek. “He’s done it – he’s gone down the tunnel! Well done him!”
    He was just about to speed towards the figure, when Roddy stopped him. “Wait a moment,” he whispered. “That doesn’t look like Jimmy! But then who
is
it? And what are they doing?”
    The figure
did
look rather strange. It was difficult to see in the moonlight, but it seemed to constantly change shape as it flitted between the seats. Its long clothes billowed first one way and then another in the breeze.
    Marek crouched down and clutched Roddy’s arm. “I have never seen a ghost before,” he said quietly. “But is that one?”
    Roddy didn’t know what to say. Maybe the ghost stories about the school were true after all. Then he checked himself. He was being stupid! There were no such things as ghosts.It was Jack. It had to be! It would be just like him to try to freak Jimmy out. The greenish light that illuminated the swaying figure must be Jack’s torch with a filter on it.
    â€œWe need garlic,” muttered Marek. “Garlic is good against ghosts.”
    â€œNo, we don’t,” said Roddy. “It’s not a ghost. I don’t believe in them anyway. I bet it’s Jack.”
    â€œReally?” asked Marek. He peered at the ghostly figure again. “Maybe you’re right. What an idiot! He’s risking a red card just to get Jimmy in