How Kirsty Jenkins Stole the Elephant by Elen Caldecott Read Free Book Online Page B

though.’ Kirsty stopped grinning. ‘We can’t put my name at the top of the list – he’ll recognise it. And he’ll recognise me when he comes to tell me that I’ve got an allotment.’
    Ben shook his head. ‘There is no way that Mr Thomas tells people in person when he gives them an allotment. He wouldn’t make a big fuss. He just sends them a letter, I bet. So all we need to do is change your name a bit and he’ll send you a letter.’
    â€˜What if he’s already sent a letter to the new owners?’ Dawn asked.
    Kirsty shook her head. ‘No, he hasn’t. He told me at the museum that he was going to write his report this week and get new tenants next week.’
    â€˜So we still have time!’ Ben said. ‘It’s brilliant. So simple, so . . . devious.’ He smiled at Dawn.
    Kirsty felt her heart swell with excitement. It was a great idea, but would it work? ‘How can we get into his office when he isn’t there?’ she asked.
    Dawn grinned. ‘I go and see him, and cause a diversion. You change the list. Easy. Like stealing sweets from a baby.’
    â€˜Stealing sweets from a baby is hard,’ Ben said. ‘They cry and throw tantrums.’
    â€˜Shut up,’ Dawn said. ‘It’s easy. I’ll make an appointment.’ She pulled out her mobile phone. She sounded confident, but Kirsty noticed that her hands were shaking; she had to dial directory enquiries twice before she got the number right.
    Kirsty and Ben stayed absolutely quiet while Dawn called the council.
    â€˜Hello, er, Mr Thomas? Hi. I’m Dawn, er, Jennings. I’m calling because I’m doing a project at school. On, er, green cities. I was hoping I could come and interview you. It would really help. Please, just five minutes.’ There was a long pause. ‘That would be perfect!’ Dawn said. ‘Thank you.’ She hung up the phone.
    â€˜Well?’ Ben asked.
    â€˜I’m meeting him tomorrow after school. In his office at 3.40.’
    Kirsty shivered with excitement. They were getting close.

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    Chapter 14
    Kirsty said goodbye to Ben and Dawn and cycled home. She let herself into the house. She stood in the hall and let the door close gently behind her. The soft click of the latch was the only sound she could hear. It was strange – way too quiet. Before, when Dad was well, this would have been the noisiest time of day – everyone coming home and shouting hellos, telling stories about their day, and Dad, right in the middle of it all, laughing. Instead, it was just silent.
    â€˜Hello?’ she said softly. Were Mum and Dad even in?
    She heard a sound from upstairs. Burglars? Was she alone in the house with burglars? Her heartbeat speeded up as she crept to the bottom of the staircase.
    â€˜Shh!’ It was Mum, hissing down from the landing. ‘Your dad’s sleeping.’
    Kirsty felt her fear turn into something else. Anger. Dad was always sleeping! Why wouldn’t he get up? What was going on? And all Mum would say was ‘shh’. She was like a broken record. Well, Kirsty wasn’t going to shush.
    She stomped into the front room. Her DVDs were arranged on the bottom shelf. There were lots of them, but her collection was nothing compared to Dad’s records. He had hundreds and hundreds of them stacked along the top shelves. The records hadn’t been touched in a long time though. Before he got so tired, Dad liked to rearrange his collection. He’d change it every week, sometimes putting it in alphabetical order, sometimes in date order, sometimes even according to the colour of the cover, so that the records looked like a rainbow stretching along the wall. Kirsty liked to copy him. Just now, both collections were arranged in order of favourites. Her favourite film, The Wizard of Oz , was first and Dad’s favourite album was first in his collection.
    Kirsty took the record down