Monkey and Me by David Gilman

with Malcolm.
    â€œBut what about the jokes?” Rocky said.
    â€œAll you have to do is make sure she can see your lips,” I said, trying to make things easier for Tracy’s membership. “She’s got a great sense of humour.”
    â€œHow would you know?” Mark said all miserable-like, still irritated because everything was my fault.
    â€œBecause she wants to join the gang. How funny is that?”
    The realisation crept over them like a measles rash. Skimp smiled. Rocky grunted and Pete-the-Feet actually chuckled.
    â€œBeanie’s right, she must have a twisted sense of humour, wanting to join an all-boy gang,” Rocky conceded.
    Mission accomplished.
    I gave my next forged letter to Mrs Carpenter who was teaching Science – and I thought she might have been relieved when I gave it to her because her class was about micro-organisms which can cause illness and viruses that can… well, I didn’t really need to sit in that class, did I?
    The gang had done a really good job of collectingfood for Malcolm and my backpack was full of fruit. When I squeezed through the gate I still went very carefully round the track, just in case anyone else was hanging around. But as usual, the haunted house kept everyone else away. I waited till I got to the foot of the stairs, but then, before I could even call out his name, I heard him running along the upstairs corridor and bounding down the stairs.
    He must have been watching from his window and had recognised me, which made me feel really nice inside. He was only about the size of a little three or four year old, but when he jumped up on me he was very heavy and I fell over. He was all over me like a bouncy toy and I was laughing so much I couldn’t get up.
    I made the “I am hungry” sign and he opened his mouth and stuck his fingers inside. It was time for a picnic.
    I got onto the sacks in the greenhouse and opened up all the food. We sat together, peeled bananas and got through the recommended five pieces of fruit. Over the last couple of visits Malcolm and I had developed a little routine. We would greet each other and then eat something and then he wouldtake my hand and lead me on a tour of the house. We’d go into every room and I would imagine who must have lived there, because in its day it must have been a very beautiful house. But you could see the big cracks up the wall and the bits of ceiling that had fallen down and the holes in the roof where the birds came in and made their nests in the rafters, and in a way it made me feel quite sad that it was falling down. But on the other hand the birds and Malcolm had found a home. And, as Mark always says, we all aspire to better things in life. So I suppose Malcolm and the birds have gone up in the world.
    After our tour we would go back to the greenhouse and snuggle down into the sacks and have a nap. But today we stayed up in the bedroom and looked out the window because I knew Mark and the gang had gone to get Tracy. I saw someone creeping through the bushes and almost banged on the window to tell them where I was. But then I saw it was two men – it was Potato Face and Comb Head! And they were going around the house, checking to see if they could get inside.
    When we had decided to protect Malcolm, Rocky and Skimp had pulled the old kitchen door back intoplace and put all sorts of rubbish in front of it as a deterrent to anyone else getting in. Then we had found a small hole in the wall at the back courtyard, and that’s where we all squeezed through now.
    Malcolm’s teeth chattered. I held him as we watched the men give up trying to get in the house. I realised that sooner or later someone who wouldn’t care that the Black Gate was haunted was going to break in. And when they did that they might not realise that the reason Malcolm made all those threatening noises was because he was scared. Then they might get the wrong idea and try and hurt him. I had