one of the poems. But what did it
mean? He'd chosen it because the poem was written by
a woman.
The letter written by the Caviar Man was longer. Joel
assumed that men wrote longer letters than women. But
maybe it was the other way round in reality?
' Oh, fondest love of my heart. Meet me at the birdbath at eight o'clock on Saturday evening. I'm aching to meet you after a thousand years of longing. I kiss your tears. Will you drive me to despair? A secret admirer. '
Joel wasn't sure about 'fondest' – wouldn't it be
better to say 'dearest'? But that was what it said in the
poem, so no doubt it was right.
He folded the letters and sealed the envelopes.
At that moment, Samuel entered the room.
'Are you writing letters?' he asked.
'I've ordered some catalogues,' said Joel.
'I haven't written a letter for ages,' said Samuel. Joel
thought he sounded sad about that.
'You can write to me,' he said. 'I promise to answer.'
Samuel smiled.
'It's late,' he said. 'Time to go to bed if you're going
to be able to get up for school tomorrow morning.'
Joel had intended to take his bike before going to bed,
and post the messages in Gertrud's and the Caviar Man's
letter boxes. But he was too tired. He'd have to wait
until the next day.
It was cold the next evening.
There was a crackling noise from under his tyres
when Joel set off. He parked his bike by the railway
bridge and ran the rest of the way to Gertrud's house. He
paused outside the gate. He could see her shadow
outlined against the curtains.
So, now I'm going to do my good deed, he thought,
and put the letter into the box fastened to the gatepost.
When he came to Lasse the Cabbie's back yard,
everything was calm and quiet. Joel had left his bike in
a side street, and crept forward cautiously through the
shadows. Now he was General Custer's messenger
again, sneaking through enemy territory with a message
that could mean life or death to the recipient.
There were two letter boxes attached to the fence. He
bent down, and managed to make out the names even
though the streetlight was a long way away.
Then he slid the letter into the slot.
He had to be certain that he hadn't made a mistake, as
the letter box was secured with a little padlock.
So, he'd done it at last!
On Saturday night his good deed would be complete.
Then he could concentrate on his geography game. Become
a better football player, and find himself a real friend.
He cycled back home. The streets were deserted. He
met only one car, outside the Grand Hotel.
He parked his bike in its stand.
Then it dawned on him what he had done.
He froze stiff.
He hadn't written David Lundberg on the envelope.
He'd written the Caviar Man.
' To the Caviar Man from a secret admirer. '
How could David know that he was the Caviar Man?
Besides, he might not be too pleased about being
compared with caviar.
Damn and blast, Joel thought.
I'm an idiot, idiot, idiot!
Everything is ruined.
He sat down on the freezing cold steps outside the
front door.
How on earth could he have written Caviar Man on
the envelope?
How could he possibly have been so stupid?
8
That evening Joel realised that there is no anger greater
than the anger you direct at yourself.
He had never been so furious with himself as he
was now.
Even his father wondered what was the matter with
him.
'What are you wandering around and muttering at?'
he asked.
'I'm swearing,' said Joel.
Samuel looked at him in surprise.
'Why?'
'Why not?' said Joel.
'There's usually a reason for swearing,' said Samuel.
'I swear when I stumble in the forest. Or twist my ankle.
Or hit myself on the thumb.'
'I've hit myself on the head,' said Joel.
Samuel looked worried.
'Have you fallen off your bike?' he asked.
'I've hit myself inside my head,' said Joel.
Then he went to his room and slammed the door
behind him.
Samuel could see it was best to leave Joel in peace.
He went back to his armchair and continued reading the
newspaper.
Joel got his own back on
mean? He'd chosen it because the poem was written by
a woman.
The letter written by the Caviar Man was longer. Joel
assumed that men wrote longer letters than women. But
maybe it was the other way round in reality?
' Oh, fondest love of my heart. Meet me at the birdbath at eight o'clock on Saturday evening. I'm aching to meet you after a thousand years of longing. I kiss your tears. Will you drive me to despair? A secret admirer. '
Joel wasn't sure about 'fondest' – wouldn't it be
better to say 'dearest'? But that was what it said in the
poem, so no doubt it was right.
He folded the letters and sealed the envelopes.
At that moment, Samuel entered the room.
'Are you writing letters?' he asked.
'I've ordered some catalogues,' said Joel.
'I haven't written a letter for ages,' said Samuel. Joel
thought he sounded sad about that.
'You can write to me,' he said. 'I promise to answer.'
Samuel smiled.
'It's late,' he said. 'Time to go to bed if you're going
to be able to get up for school tomorrow morning.'
Joel had intended to take his bike before going to bed,
and post the messages in Gertrud's and the Caviar Man's
letter boxes. But he was too tired. He'd have to wait
until the next day.
It was cold the next evening.
There was a crackling noise from under his tyres
when Joel set off. He parked his bike by the railway
bridge and ran the rest of the way to Gertrud's house. He
paused outside the gate. He could see her shadow
outlined against the curtains.
So, now I'm going to do my good deed, he thought,
and put the letter into the box fastened to the gatepost.
When he came to Lasse the Cabbie's back yard,
everything was calm and quiet. Joel had left his bike in
a side street, and crept forward cautiously through the
shadows. Now he was General Custer's messenger
again, sneaking through enemy territory with a message
that could mean life or death to the recipient.
There were two letter boxes attached to the fence. He
bent down, and managed to make out the names even
though the streetlight was a long way away.
Then he slid the letter into the slot.
He had to be certain that he hadn't made a mistake, as
the letter box was secured with a little padlock.
So, he'd done it at last!
On Saturday night his good deed would be complete.
Then he could concentrate on his geography game. Become
a better football player, and find himself a real friend.
He cycled back home. The streets were deserted. He
met only one car, outside the Grand Hotel.
He parked his bike in its stand.
Then it dawned on him what he had done.
He froze stiff.
He hadn't written David Lundberg on the envelope.
He'd written the Caviar Man.
' To the Caviar Man from a secret admirer. '
How could David know that he was the Caviar Man?
Besides, he might not be too pleased about being
compared with caviar.
Damn and blast, Joel thought.
I'm an idiot, idiot, idiot!
Everything is ruined.
He sat down on the freezing cold steps outside the
front door.
How on earth could he have written Caviar Man on
the envelope?
How could he possibly have been so stupid?
8
That evening Joel realised that there is no anger greater
than the anger you direct at yourself.
He had never been so furious with himself as he
was now.
Even his father wondered what was the matter with
him.
'What are you wandering around and muttering at?'
he asked.
'I'm swearing,' said Joel.
Samuel looked at him in surprise.
'Why?'
'Why not?' said Joel.
'There's usually a reason for swearing,' said Samuel.
'I swear when I stumble in the forest. Or twist my ankle.
Or hit myself on the thumb.'
'I've hit myself on the head,' said Joel.
Samuel looked worried.
'Have you fallen off your bike?' he asked.
'I've hit myself inside my head,' said Joel.
Then he went to his room and slammed the door
behind him.
Samuel could see it was best to leave Joel in peace.
He went back to his armchair and continued reading the
newspaper.
Joel got his own back on
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