Monkey and Me by David Gilman Read Free Book Online Page A

the fright of my life, an even bigger fright of my life than the fright of my life I had before, because I thought it was going to attack me like a mad axe man, only this was a mad chimpanzee with a ladle. I yelled in fright. The monkey jumped, dropped the ladle and ran screeching across the work counters and tables in the kitchen, then disappeared out through a door at the other end of the room.
    Me being so scared had scared it.
    Then I suddenly felt terrible. I stood up and shouted after it, “Wait! Don’t go! It’s all right! Honest!” I could hear it scuffling as it ran in the darkness where bits of moonlight broke up the dark like a splintered mirror. And for some reason I went after it without even thinking that it might have a bigger brother somewhere in there who might not even be a chimpanzee, but a gorilla. But my brain called me stupid and reminded me that chimpanzees and gorillas aren’t the same. I could just make outthe shapes of the worktops and the preparation tables in this huge kitchen. As I banged into things and tried to reach the door I had to pull a couple of cobwebs out of my face – which made me cringe – the thought of spiders did occur to me. Especially if one got into my beanie and worked its way underneath and decided to make a nest in my ear. I could have millions of tiny spiders being born inside my head and the only thing they would have to eat would be my brain. But that was an irrational thought because there was no chance a spider could get under my beanie because it was tighter than a cosy on Mum’s teapot.
    By the time I had stumbled through the kitchen I seemed to have come right round the back of the house again and I could see there was a huge cobbled courtyard with old stables and outhouses. I went down the passageway past broken windows where the boarding had rotted and given way, perhaps this was how the monkey had got inside the house. I could hear it still chattering, still running, still making lots of noise, and that’s what I followed, until I finally came to a room that had lots of old clay garden pots stacked on the floor. There wasa rotten wooden door leading into a huge greenhouse. It was like a jungle in there. Plants had just kept growing year in, year out, self-seeding fruit and vegetables, but there wasn’t much left to eat that I could see. Whatever had been in here must have kept the monkey alive. Its very own private jungle. This would have made a great HQ.
    I was getting really tired and sat on a pile of sacks. I remembered they called these big old Victorian greenhouses orangeries. But I couldn’t see any oranges anywhere. The place smelled very musty, but most of the glass was still in the old frames and I supposed the big house would have once grown its vegetables there, because they wouldn’t have had a supermarket in those days. The moonlight came through the cracked glass and cobwebs and made a big lace curtain over everything. It was very pretty. And it was quiet. The monkey had stopped making any noise. Sometimes, no matter what’s going on, you just can’t keep your eyes open and I started to snuggle down into the sacks but then they popped open again when I saw the monkey sitting in front of me. It was just watching. I remembered I had a Juicy Fruit in my pocket. I carefully took the paper off andheld it out. The thought of it made my mouth water but I wanted to make a peace offering. The monkey’s eyes widened and then suddenly it snatched the sweet from my fingers. It made a slobbering slurping chewing noise and then stuck its tongue out. The Juicy Fruit had made it red and I could smell the fruit on its breath, which was quite a bit better than what it smelled like before. I didn’t move, just sat there and looked at it. It reached out and touched my foot. I kept quite still and slowly put my hand out to it again, just with my palm open.
    It touched it and then I noticed for the first time