The Giants and the Joneses by Julia Donaldson Page B

grains.
    ‘Leck-shun!’ said Poppy. It was her longest word, and she looked triumphant.
    ‘Yes, a collection. A running-away collection,’ said Colette.
    ‘Run away, find Stephen.’
    ‘We can’t yet. Jumbeelia’s being very careful aboutkeeping her door closed. But one of these days she’ll forget. So let’s look for some other things for the running-away collection. Not just food – maybe some blankets too … and weapons.’
    Jumbeelia’s bedroom was already in a mess again, with stuff strewn all over the floor. Colette began to feel a little more cheerful as they hunted for things they thought might be useful. In spite of everything, it was good to be collecting again.
    ‘Look, Poppy – we can wrap food up in these sweet papers. And these giant badges could be good as shields.’
    ‘Nice hats,’ said Poppy. She had come across the acorn cups again.
    ‘They might come in handy,’ said Colette, though she couldn’t quite think how.
    Then, ‘Peggy line!’ Poppy called out, pointing to the washing line, complete with pegged-out sheets, towels and clothes, that Jumbeelia had snatched along with them.
    ‘Brilliant, Poppy. And look! She’s pegged our old clothes on it. Stephen will be dead pleased to get his jeans and T-shirt back!’
    Poppy was entranced when they came upon a box ofChristmas-tree decorations: gleaming silver balls, sparkly angels and paper lanterns all as big as themselves. She fell in love with a feathery Christmas-tree robin.
    ‘Big bird run away too,’ she said.
    ‘Big bird won’t be any use to us,’ said Colette, and Poppy’s face fell. ‘But these would. Aren’t they pretty?’ Colette held up two drawstring bags made of gold glittery material, with ribbon handles. ‘The giants probably put sweets in them at Christmas time, and hang them on the tree.’
    ‘Sweety for Poppy,’ said Poppy hopefully.
    ‘No. But we can put the stuff we’ve collected in them and carry everything on our backs when we escape.’
    It was beginning to get dark and Colette suddenly felt exhausted. Poppy yawned too and said, ‘Bed time. Big girl tuck up Poppy.’
    But Jumbeelia still hadn’t come back so it was Colette who tucked up her sister and sang her a lullaby. She fell asleep quickly.
    Colette couldn’t get to sleep. She was too worried about Stephen. She was still awake when Jumbeeliawent to bed. Listening again to the giant mother telling a bedtime story, she wished she could understand their language.
    Jumbeelia didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the story; she kept interrupting, and Colette heard her say the word ‘spratchkin’ over and over again.
    Later still, when the light was out and Jumbeelia was snoring softly, Colette heard a hooting noise from outside. It sounded horribly like an owl. She remembered how bravely Stephen had fought the wasp and refused to fight the spider. She remembered him shouting, ‘Leave my sister alone!’ and jabbing Zab’s ankle with the pin, and she realised that she was missing him every bit as much as she missed Mum and Dad. In fact, it seemed funny that she often used to think she hated Stephen. If they could all be together again, she felt that she wouldn’t mind being called all the insect names in the world.
    There was the owl again. Colette tried not to imagine how big a giant owl would be, or how sharp its claws or beak would feel.
    But what was this new noise? It sounded like an engine being started, somewhere a long way below her, out in the garden. There it was again: some revving noises, this time followed by a long dull roar.
    Colette felt a bubble of hope swelling inside her. It was the lawn mower! Stephen must have found it under the flowerpot. Everything was going to work out. She drifted off to sleep.
    She woke with a start in the middle of the night.
    Someone or something was tapping at the window.
    Though it was still dark she could just make out the dim square of the doll’s-house window. It had no curtains. There