mermaid hunting, was also tha gu math !
Chapter 11
Way down in the south of England, Billy Mole was feeling very tha gu math indeed, except of course, he didn’t use those words. “Ace”, that’s what Billy Mole said. He had just purchased his first suit, along with a white shirt, black tie and black shoes. The whole outfit cost him £62 from T.A. Mars, but was almost identical to the one Brad Price wore in Hi! magazine. And that, definitely, cost a lot more than £62!
“Very smart,” the assistant commented, wrapping the clothes up with care. “Now if my boy would only wear something sensible like this, I’d have a lot less bother with him.”
Billy nodded, not sure what she meant. He was out of the shop, into the nearest café, into the toilet and into his new clothes in five minutes flat. He stuffed his white nylon tracksuit into the plastic bag and strutted out like he owned the place.
“Hey, you!” the waiter called. “Boy, you’ve got to buy something.”
But Billy was gone, striding up the street, soles snapping – though not feeling too happy about the “boy” bit. Didn’t he look like a man, and a man with a good job, now he owned a suit? Billy turned to examine himself in a shop window. He hardly recognised the stylish grown-up man that looked back. He felt great,like he was stepping forth into the life of a celebrity journalist. Bring it on! That’s what Billy Mole thought.
That same day, Tarkin, who had hardly slept a wink, didn’t eat breakfast and couldn’t face school. He wanted to tell his mum all about his mermaid, but somehow guessed she wouldn’t understand. Frank, his mum’s boyfriend, would probably listen to him, nodding in all the right places, but this was way too special to share with Frank.
Tarkin had first spotted his mermaid on a fishing trip in Canada with his dad. That had been three long years ago. He’d only seen her for a moment. Her beautiful head and shoulders had risen from the cold lake. With her lovely face, framed with tumbling black hair, she had gazed at him, smiled then sunk back under the water never to be forgotten. And now – on the other side of the world – she had found him. Like Tarkin always knew she would.
“Honey, you’re not sick, are you? You don’t look too good. Let me fetch you a vitamin C.” Martha leant over the kitchen table and studied her son, chewing her lip the way she did when she was worried.
“I’m good, Mom,” Tarkin said, swallowing hard. He couldn’t even begin to tell his mum about bombs under the sand, swollen hands, paparazzi and mermaids. “Really, everything’s cool.” He took a sip of milk.
Tarkin’s mum didn’t look convinced. “What d’ya think, Frank? Dontcha think he’s sickening for something?”
“Growing pains,” suggested Frank, nodding wisely. He set down his coffee cup. “Why, now I remember when I was a boy…”
Tarkin didn’t listen to what Frank remembered. Tarkin had already decided he would go to the beach. But he had to take something with him, some kind of gift. His mind raced. Jewellery – that’s what mermaids like, or at least he recalled reading something like that. Tarkin fiddled with his shark’s tooth necklace. No, she wouldn’t want that. Mermaids are probably afraid of sharks. She needed something more – feminine. His mother cleared the dishes from the kitchen table. Frank was still going on about his boyhood.
Tarkin’s mother had a jewellery box in her bedroom. Most of what was in there she’d never miss. Tarkin slunk off, muttering something about brushing his teeth. From the hallway he heard his mother clattering with pots and pans.
With the coast clear Tarkin slipped into his mum’s bedroom. And there it was, right in front of him, the purple jewellery box. It sat on his mother’s dressing table and seemed to beckon him. “Come to me,” that’s what it was saying. Tarkin had to act fast.
He tiptoed over to it and flipped open the purple, shiny
Chapter 11
Way down in the south of England, Billy Mole was feeling very tha gu math indeed, except of course, he didn’t use those words. “Ace”, that’s what Billy Mole said. He had just purchased his first suit, along with a white shirt, black tie and black shoes. The whole outfit cost him £62 from T.A. Mars, but was almost identical to the one Brad Price wore in Hi! magazine. And that, definitely, cost a lot more than £62!
“Very smart,” the assistant commented, wrapping the clothes up with care. “Now if my boy would only wear something sensible like this, I’d have a lot less bother with him.”
Billy nodded, not sure what she meant. He was out of the shop, into the nearest café, into the toilet and into his new clothes in five minutes flat. He stuffed his white nylon tracksuit into the plastic bag and strutted out like he owned the place.
“Hey, you!” the waiter called. “Boy, you’ve got to buy something.”
But Billy was gone, striding up the street, soles snapping – though not feeling too happy about the “boy” bit. Didn’t he look like a man, and a man with a good job, now he owned a suit? Billy turned to examine himself in a shop window. He hardly recognised the stylish grown-up man that looked back. He felt great,like he was stepping forth into the life of a celebrity journalist. Bring it on! That’s what Billy Mole thought.
That same day, Tarkin, who had hardly slept a wink, didn’t eat breakfast and couldn’t face school. He wanted to tell his mum all about his mermaid, but somehow guessed she wouldn’t understand. Frank, his mum’s boyfriend, would probably listen to him, nodding in all the right places, but this was way too special to share with Frank.
Tarkin had first spotted his mermaid on a fishing trip in Canada with his dad. That had been three long years ago. He’d only seen her for a moment. Her beautiful head and shoulders had risen from the cold lake. With her lovely face, framed with tumbling black hair, she had gazed at him, smiled then sunk back under the water never to be forgotten. And now – on the other side of the world – she had found him. Like Tarkin always knew she would.
“Honey, you’re not sick, are you? You don’t look too good. Let me fetch you a vitamin C.” Martha leant over the kitchen table and studied her son, chewing her lip the way she did when she was worried.
“I’m good, Mom,” Tarkin said, swallowing hard. He couldn’t even begin to tell his mum about bombs under the sand, swollen hands, paparazzi and mermaids. “Really, everything’s cool.” He took a sip of milk.
Tarkin’s mum didn’t look convinced. “What d’ya think, Frank? Dontcha think he’s sickening for something?”
“Growing pains,” suggested Frank, nodding wisely. He set down his coffee cup. “Why, now I remember when I was a boy…”
Tarkin didn’t listen to what Frank remembered. Tarkin had already decided he would go to the beach. But he had to take something with him, some kind of gift. His mind raced. Jewellery – that’s what mermaids like, or at least he recalled reading something like that. Tarkin fiddled with his shark’s tooth necklace. No, she wouldn’t want that. Mermaids are probably afraid of sharks. She needed something more – feminine. His mother cleared the dishes from the kitchen table. Frank was still going on about his boyhood.
Tarkin’s mother had a jewellery box in her bedroom. Most of what was in there she’d never miss. Tarkin slunk off, muttering something about brushing his teeth. From the hallway he heard his mother clattering with pots and pans.
With the coast clear Tarkin slipped into his mum’s bedroom. And there it was, right in front of him, the purple jewellery box. It sat on his mother’s dressing table and seemed to beckon him. “Come to me,” that’s what it was saying. Tarkin had to act fast.
He tiptoed over to it and flipped open the purple, shiny
Similar Books
