My Friend Walter by Michael Morpurgo Page B

interest in chemistry before, have you? Something’s going on here, Bessy, and you’d better tell me, else I’ll take these downstairs and show them and I don’t think you’d want that, would you?’
    â€˜You’ve got no right to be in here,’ I said. ‘It’s my room. I don’t come in your room, do I?’
    â€˜I only came in to find out what Humph was up to,’ he said. ‘I saw him whining and scratching at your door. Thought that was a bit funny. So I opened the door and let him in. He came straight to your table and started sniffing at this letter. Don’t suppose I’d have noticed it otherwise. Now what’s it all about? You can tell me. You can trust me. I promise I won’t tell. Cross my heart I won’t.’
    â€˜You wouldn’t believe me anyway,’ I said. ‘You’d just think I was telling stories. You always think I’m telling stories.’ I was playing for time. I had run out of ideas. I’d promised Walter I wouldn’t tell anyone abouthim. He’d kept his side of the bargain and I’d keep mine. He was my secret friend, and like he’d said they’d think I was mad if I told them about him – and it could finish Gran off for good if she ever found that there was a ghost living with us in the house.
    Luckily, Humph chose this moment to take matters into his own hands (or paws, I suppose). He sprang off the bed and made for the open door and Gran’s breakfast tray outside in the passage. He had his nose in the toast before I could stop him. I ran after him and shouted to him to get off, which he did, but so clumsily that he blundered all over the breakfast tray sending everything scattering and crashing in all directions; and as I lunged for him he fled, tail between his legs, with a piece of toast still in his mouth. He met Mother and Father coming up the stairs.
    â€˜What the dickens is going on up there?’ Mother said as the tea ran across the floorboards and began to trickle down the stairs towards her. As you can imagine I was in a very difficult position. To blame Will would have been like waving a red rag to a bull – he would have been bound to tell them everything there and then, just out of spite. So I blamed Humph instead.
    â€˜It was Humph,’ I said, starting to pick myself up.‘He ran right into me. Knocked me over. I couldn’t help it. Honest.’ I peeled a piece of toast off my elbow.
    â€˜You all right, dear?’ said Mother running up the stairs with Father close behind. ‘I’ve said time and again that dog should be shut out the back.’ She was helping me up. ‘It’s dangerous for Gran. She’s always tripping over him. And he licks Little Jim like he’s a lollipop. It’s not healthy, and he’s always the wrong side of every door. He should stay outside.’
    â€˜What’s the matter?’ It was Gran calling from her room. ‘What’s going on out there?’
    â€˜Nothing, dear,’ said Mother. ‘A little accident that’s all. No one’s hurt. Don’t you worry, we’ll bring you your breakfast in a minute.’ Will had said nothing so far, and I thought the danger was over. But then he saw his milk jug. It was the milk jug that made him do it – he told me as much later on. Miraculously it was the only thing that was broken, but unfortunately for me it was the milk jug Will made in pottery class at school and he’d given it to Mother for her birthday only a few weeks before. He was very, very proud of it.
    There were tears in his eyes as he bent down and picked up the pieces. He looked up at me and I knew right away what he was going to do. ‘Got something toshow you, Father,’ he said. ‘In Bessy’s room. Come and look.’ And he got up and went into my room. Mother and Father followed him. I couldn’t stop him now. ‘Look,’ I heard him