The Secret Five and the Stunt Nun Legacy by John Lawrence Page B

verbal dexterity, but in truth it was because he had a lump of ginger cake stuck in his throat. He coughed, and bits of cake splattered out, having a dramatic effect on the face of Whatshisname, who tried frantically to lick them off. Uncle Quagmire retrieved the bits of cake, popped them back into hismouth, and continued almost exactly from where he had left off: ‘is to go back in time and, through fair means or foul, to stop him from being born!’
    The children gasped a huge gasp, as they hadn’t gasped for a while and one had built up inside them. Old Hag, not wanting to be left out of any Secret Five activity, also decided to gasp, but she wasn’t so good at it, having missed out on all the training, and it sounded more like an amateur wheeze than a highly-trained gasp.
    ‘Go back? time? fair? foul? stop? born?’ said Betty, in a daze and unable to say prepositions or conjunctives.
    ‘Yes, Betty,’ said Uncle Quagmire. ‘You’re right when you say go back time fair foul stop born, for that is my mission in a very small and concise nutshell, if nutshells come that small and concise these days, that is. It’ll be highly dangerous, no doubt, and very highly risky, but now I’m here I’ll do what I have to do to save the world, and more if necessary. You children are very naughty indeed and shouldn’t have followed me here. But as you’re here, the mission for you, should you choose to accept it, is simple but too highly dangerous. And far too highly risky.’
    ‘I knew I should have left the story at the beginning,’ mumbled Amy. ‘I don’t like the sound of anything that’s too highly risky. I wanted to be in an adventure where we discover buried treasure and easily outwit a gang of clumsy escaped convicts.’
    ‘I understand your fears, Ann . . . Angela . . . erm, Amy?’ Uncle Quagmire said. ‘I wouldn’t want to lose you to a hideously prolonged death. After all, you’ve always been like a daughter to me.’
    ‘I am your daughter,’ Amy reminded him.
    Uncle Quagmire stared at her. ‘Oh . . . okay. But, despite that, I still wouldn’t want to lose you.’
    ‘Don’t be so silly, Amy,’ said Daniel in a real man’s voice. ‘We’ll be all right. Maybe. Anyway, Uncle Quagmire, I have some questions.’
    And indeed, Daniel had some questions, because someonewho shall remain nameless had slipped a list of important questions into his hand while everyone’s attention was elsewhere. ‘Question Number One,’ he said, consulting the piece of paper, ‘is about stunt nuns – what exactly is a stunt nun?’
    ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Uncle Quagmire said. ‘I thought everyone knew.’
    ‘I know, I know, I know!’ yelled Old Hag, waving her arm in the air like a classroom swot. Uncle Quagmire slapped her.
    ‘Right, let me explain,’ he said, firmly yet diligently. ‘In this very city at this very moment some Hollywood people are filming a very spectavagant film, and it’s got lots of nuns in it. One of those nuns must do dangerous things, like running quite quickly down a green grassy hillside, so she’ll need a running stunt nun double. You see?’
    ‘Oh,’ said one of the children 1 .
    ‘Question Two,’ said Daniel quite relentlessly referring to his list. ‘What has the stunt nun got to do with the man who is threatening to destroy or dominate the world?’
    ‘Good question,’ said Uncle Quagmire, and Daniel felt quite proud of his question, although it wasn’t him that thought of the question, was it now?
    Uncle Quagmire beckoned them to gather round closely, which they already were, so they first tried to ungather a bit so they could gather round again.
    ‘The stunt nun, Clarissa Claghorn, is staying near here in the Hotel Bristol,’ said Uncle Quagmire, ‘which is the sister hotel to the Hotel Salzburg in Bristol. Coincidentally, there is also a Hotel Bristol in Bristol, but that’s neither here nor there – unless you are staying there, of course, in which case you’d have