Mumbersons and The Blood Secret, The by Mike Crowl, Celia Crowl Page B

tied.’
     
    ‘Rubbish!’ said Mrs Mumberson, crashing a large bowl into the cupboard over the top of Olivia’s head.
     
    ‘Just like your hands are tied about us staying here,’ said Mr Mumberson, snapping on the electric jug to make himself another cup of tea. ‘Have you heard what he’s doing with us, Mr Ghefood?’
     
    ‘Khafoops,’ said that gentleman.
     
    ‘He wants to throw us out on the street,’ said Mr Mumberson, ignoring the correction. ‘His own parents.’
     
    ‘I’m not throwing you out on the street,’ said Jerry, his face flushed. ‘You need to find your own place, that’s all.’
     
    ‘This is our own place,’ said his mother, clattering teaspoons into the drawer and slamming it shut.
     
    ‘We went through all this the other night,’ said Jerry. ‘It’s not Mahid’s concern.’
     
    ‘Oh, I am quite happy to listen,’ said Mr Khafoops. ‘However loud you argue, it is never as loud as the noise of all my children.’
     
    Olivia threw her tea towel on the bench. ‘Billy, show your Dad the text!’ Billy found the text on his phone. Olivia looked over his shoulder, nodding at Jerry because they did have proof.
     
    Except there was no text. It had vanished. ‘I must have...deleted it by accident,’ said Billy, appalled. Olivia grabbed the phone and searched back and forth. There was nothing.
     
    Jerry finished off his nearly cold coffee, in silence.
     
    Billy was fed up with not being believed. ‘I’m going for a walk, Dad,’ he said. Which meant, of course, that Olivia would be going too. And the dog, who’d pricked up its ears at the word, ‘walk.’
     
    Mrs Mumberson said, ‘I don’t think you should be going out without an adult, Billy.’
     
    Billy was already halfway out the door. ‘It’s all right. We’ve got Stevedore to protect us.’ No one commented on the fact that Stevedore, being Olivia’s dog, would hardly be likely to protect anyone.
     
    ‘Stay away from the Factory!’ said Jerry, but Billy was already gone, with Stevedore and Olivia close behind.
     
    ‘Where are we going?’ asked Olivia, racing along beside Billy and the dog, which, though already panting loudly, was enjoying the run.
     
    Billy didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure if what he was doing was such a good idea, especially as his father had told him not to go to the Factory. But he hoped he might discover something that would prove they weren’t lying.
     
    Olivia quickly realised where they were headed. ‘How are you going to get in?’ she asked as they raced along avoiding people on the path, including skateboarders. Skittleton seemed to have an infestation of skateboarders these days.
     
    ‘I don’t know. Maybe the main gate will be open.’ They avoided the town this time, and ran straight along the crest of the hill. In the distance they could see three or four Ninja Chickens zipping between the cable cars, shouting at each other, their boards making a chock-thwunk sound as they flipped back onto the road. Their challenge was to make sure they didn’t get the wheels caught in the track, or worse, get hit by a car.
     
    ‘Wish I had a board,’ said Olivia, stopping briefly to look. Billy said nothing. He’d never learnt to skate; after too many bruises and scrapes he’d given up. They ran down to the bottom of Habitation Hill where the cable cars meandered up and down. The lower part was a gentle slope, so they carried on running. When they reached the boarders, they slowed down. Liam waved, missed his footing, caught himself again without worry, and carried on skating. ‘Where are you off to?’ he called.
     
    ‘The Factory,’ said Olivia, before Billy could warn her.
     
    ‘Ah. The Factory. I suppose Stevedore’s going to protect you?’ He laughed.
     
    Hearing his name, Stevedore barked at Liam, then ran over to him. Liam leaned down and rubbed the dog’s head with both hands, hard enough to knock his ears off. Stevedore was so happy he jumped up and