Don’t you want to bring someone a bit more … well … fun?”
But yes, I was absolutely sure. No amount of persuasion would make me change my mind. True, Graham was generally reckoned to be a bit of a geek, but I knew that his nerdy exterior concealed hidden depths. His head was stuffed full of useful information, and he was capable of sudden, surprising bursts of courage. He’d saved my life when we were on holiday in Scotland and we’d been friends ever since. Plus he was perfect company. I didn’t have to talk to him unless I wanted to. He could be relied on to get totally immersed in the
Guinness World Records
for hours on end, leaving me the time and space to pursue my favourite hobby of people-watching.
So as soon as the autumn half-term had started we’d got on the plane, really looking forward to what lay ahead.
But now we’d arrived Mum’s excitement was fading and she was looking slightly green with nerves. “I’ve never done anything this big,” she whispered as Graham and I climbed into the back of the huge car. “Oh, Poppy, suppose she doesn’t like what I do?” I squeezed Mum’s hand reassuringly, watched her climb into the front passenger seat, and then promptly fell asleep.
It was the squeal of brakes that woke me. That, and being flung so hard against the side of the car that I cracked my head on the window. I blinked, wondering for a moment where I was and why Graham was sprawled across my lap. The car had stopped and was skewed sideways across the road about a hundred metres away from a huge pair of wrought-iron gates that had the house name SUGARCANDY HEIGHTS worked into the design. The Sat Nav had been knocked off the windscreen to the floor and the wrong button must have got hit because it was screaming with electronic enthusiasm, “1171 Orangeblossom Boulevard!” Sylvia was scrabbling around in a frenzy trying to find it but the address was repeated five times before she managed to silence the thing.
“What happened?” Mum cried. “Why on earth did you brake?”
“My apologies!” said Sylvia, dabbing beads of sweat from her forehead with a handkerchief. “A raccoon ran across the road and I had to swerve to miss it. Are you kids OK?”
“A raccoon!” I said, looking out at the empty road. “Where?”
“It’s gone. Ran into the trees over there. It’s fine, though – don’t worry – there wasn’t a scratch on it.”
I was disappointed not to catch a glimpse – I quite like wildlife. “Did you see it, Mum?”
“No,” she said, and her voice was tight with nerves. “I wasn’t really looking.”
“We’ve plenty of raccoons on the estate. You’re sure to see one soon.” Sylvia turned and gave me another of her fake smiles before restarting the engine. She pressed some sort of remote control so the gates swung smoothly open and we entered the grounds.
“We’re here,” Sylvia announced. “Ms Fields, may I present to you Miss Sugarcandy’s estate? It eagerly awaits your expert attention.” The words were addressed to my mum. But in the rear-view mirror, I noticed that Sylvia Sharpe’s eyes were firmly fixed on me.
dressed to kill
As we cruised along the drive, winding in dramatic hairpin bends up the hill, I was stunned by the splendour of Baby Sugarcandy’s estate. It was vast: an elegant series of terraces linked with flights of broad stone steps. Columns of tall, pointed cypresses were interspersed with strategically placed orange trees and huge cacti in beautifully crafted terracotta pots. It was difficult to see quite how Mum was going to improve on it and she was clearly thinking the same: I could feel waves of anxiety rolling off her. After the third or fourth bend we caught a glimpse of the mansion and even Graham gasped in astonishment. It was amazing: a construction of stone, glass and steel that looked incredibly modern but also seemed to blend so well into the landscape that it might have grown there all by itself.
“What a
But yes, I was absolutely sure. No amount of persuasion would make me change my mind. True, Graham was generally reckoned to be a bit of a geek, but I knew that his nerdy exterior concealed hidden depths. His head was stuffed full of useful information, and he was capable of sudden, surprising bursts of courage. He’d saved my life when we were on holiday in Scotland and we’d been friends ever since. Plus he was perfect company. I didn’t have to talk to him unless I wanted to. He could be relied on to get totally immersed in the
Guinness World Records
for hours on end, leaving me the time and space to pursue my favourite hobby of people-watching.
So as soon as the autumn half-term had started we’d got on the plane, really looking forward to what lay ahead.
But now we’d arrived Mum’s excitement was fading and she was looking slightly green with nerves. “I’ve never done anything this big,” she whispered as Graham and I climbed into the back of the huge car. “Oh, Poppy, suppose she doesn’t like what I do?” I squeezed Mum’s hand reassuringly, watched her climb into the front passenger seat, and then promptly fell asleep.
It was the squeal of brakes that woke me. That, and being flung so hard against the side of the car that I cracked my head on the window. I blinked, wondering for a moment where I was and why Graham was sprawled across my lap. The car had stopped and was skewed sideways across the road about a hundred metres away from a huge pair of wrought-iron gates that had the house name SUGARCANDY HEIGHTS worked into the design. The Sat Nav had been knocked off the windscreen to the floor and the wrong button must have got hit because it was screaming with electronic enthusiasm, “1171 Orangeblossom Boulevard!” Sylvia was scrabbling around in a frenzy trying to find it but the address was repeated five times before she managed to silence the thing.
“What happened?” Mum cried. “Why on earth did you brake?”
“My apologies!” said Sylvia, dabbing beads of sweat from her forehead with a handkerchief. “A raccoon ran across the road and I had to swerve to miss it. Are you kids OK?”
“A raccoon!” I said, looking out at the empty road. “Where?”
“It’s gone. Ran into the trees over there. It’s fine, though – don’t worry – there wasn’t a scratch on it.”
I was disappointed not to catch a glimpse – I quite like wildlife. “Did you see it, Mum?”
“No,” she said, and her voice was tight with nerves. “I wasn’t really looking.”
“We’ve plenty of raccoons on the estate. You’re sure to see one soon.” Sylvia turned and gave me another of her fake smiles before restarting the engine. She pressed some sort of remote control so the gates swung smoothly open and we entered the grounds.
“We’re here,” Sylvia announced. “Ms Fields, may I present to you Miss Sugarcandy’s estate? It eagerly awaits your expert attention.” The words were addressed to my mum. But in the rear-view mirror, I noticed that Sylvia Sharpe’s eyes were firmly fixed on me.
dressed to kill
As we cruised along the drive, winding in dramatic hairpin bends up the hill, I was stunned by the splendour of Baby Sugarcandy’s estate. It was vast: an elegant series of terraces linked with flights of broad stone steps. Columns of tall, pointed cypresses were interspersed with strategically placed orange trees and huge cacti in beautifully crafted terracotta pots. It was difficult to see quite how Mum was going to improve on it and she was clearly thinking the same: I could feel waves of anxiety rolling off her. After the third or fourth bend we caught a glimpse of the mansion and even Graham gasped in astonishment. It was amazing: a construction of stone, glass and steel that looked incredibly modern but also seemed to blend so well into the landscape that it might have grown there all by itself.
“What a
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