Winning a Giraffe Called Geoffrey by Hazel Edwards

Chapter 1
Where Will the Prize Fit?
    â€˜Congratulations. You’ve won first prize in Annie’s Amazing Animal Cookies Contest. You’ve won the Giraffe.’
    â€˜Oh!’ said Art. His luck must have been changing.
    â€˜Your name’s Rick isn’t it?’
    â€˜Ar ... I think it was. Could be ...’
    Being a part-time spy who forgot names and passwords was a problem.
    That was the winning name on the entry form,’ said the man. He waved the paper under Art’s nose. It tickled. A curly feeling went up his nose. He couldn’t stop it tickling. Art sneezed: a giant sneeze that blew the entry form across the room.
    â€˜Tshoo.ooo.!’
    â€˜Ar ... excuse me.’ Art scrabbled to pick up the paper from the floor. Spies needed clues. He sneaked a look at the name and address. Art couldn’t always remember all his names.
    â€˜Was ‘Rick Smith’ his name last week? When he filled in Annie’s Amazing Animal Cookies entry form? Art had to remember who he was.
    Luckily, he always used his own address. There it was on the entry form. His wobbly writing said 10 Bronzewing Street. That’s why Mr. Cookies was on the doorstep of No 10.
    He handled Art an envelope.
    â€˜Here you are Rick. See you on Friday, the 13th. About 5 o’clock.’
    â€˜What?’
    A lopsided grin showed Ms Cookies’ broken tooth.
    â€˜The Giraffe will be delivered then. Will anyone be home on Friday? We want to take a photo.’
    Art nodded as he opened the envelope.
    â€˜Ar ... Yes.’
    His Mum was on night shift. She’d be home in the day asleep. That was another problem. When a giraffe was delivered to the front door, his Mum might be cross. She wouldn’t even let him keep a cat because of the fur. She wasn’t keen on pets, but a giraffe was different. Of course, she didn’t have a son called Rick either.
    â€˜Got somewhere to keep a giraffe?’
    Art nodded. He’d think of somewhere secret. Just till Mum got used to the idea. Luckily Dad liked animals but he was away, driving his truck.
    â€˜What’s her name?’
    â€˜Who? Your Mum? ‘Mr Cookies looked at Art strangely.
    â€˜The Giraffe.’ Of course he knew his Mum’s name and it wasn’t Mrs. Smith.
    â€˜Hasn’t got one yet. He’ll have to be named by his new owner. That’s you.’
    Art thought for a moment. ‘I’ll call him Geoffrey.’
    Art was an expert at losing things like socks, school notes and swimming gear. Losing Geoffrey might be more difficult. He put the envelope away without reading the letter. There would be too many big words. Anyhow, Mr. Cookies had already told him the important part. He’d won the Giraffe.
    After school, Art hung around ‘Snip-pets’ the pet shop. The animal smells and the cat fur made him sneeze.
    â€˜Tshooo! What do giraffes eat?’ he asked.
    Another sneeze fizzed up his nose.
    â€˜Dunno. Never had one in here.’ Wouldn’t fit.’ The owner was cleaning out the puppies’ cage. ‘Even a baby giraffe would be a head taller than me.’
    That was bad news. Art looked up. The ceiling of the pet shop was higher than his roof at home.
    Sideways, he looked at himself in the window. His front tooth was still there. Why didn’t the tooth fall out? He needed the money to get a giraffe kennel.
    The window worked like a mirror. Art froze. Behind him, he could see Mario walking his greyhounds up the street. Or the greyhounds walking Mario. Art ducked behind the ‘Snip-pets’ sign. Having Mario in his Red reading group was bad enough.
    â€˜You should look up giraffe food in a book, or online,’ said the pet shop owner in a loud voice.
    â€˜Would it have picture too?’ whispered Art trying to hide behind the chair so Mario wouldn’t see him.
    â€˜Not always. What’s wrong? Why are you hiding? ‘The pet shop owner stared until Art stood