Pulling the Moves by Margaret Clark Read Free Book Online Page A

got enough problems.’
    ‘This is your mother’s special day,’ says Steve’s voice.
    What am I, some sort of emotional waste disposal unit? And what’s he doing here? I thought it was unlucky for the bridegroom to see the bride. Don’t tell me he’s slept over. How gross . I storm out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.
    ‘Don’t strut around the house naked,’ screams Mum.
    ‘ This is naked!’
    I drop the towel and Steve goggles.
    ‘ Leanne !’
    I wiggle off to my room and slam the door while Mum screeches about the state of the bathroom. I drag on some gear then stroll out to have breakfast. Mum and Steve are sitting at the table holding hands over their cornflakes. I pretend not to notice. I hope they’re not going to carry on like this after the wedding or I really will do a runner!
    ‘Where’s Sam?’ says Mum.
    ‘Dunno.’
    ‘Strange. He doesn’t seem to be here. When did you last see him, Leanne?’
    ‘Come on, Mum, when did you last see your brother?’
    ‘When did you!’
    ‘Last night.’
    ‘Leanne, this is important. Sam’s bed doesn’t look like it’s been slept in at all,’ says Steve the Supercop, Detective Supreme.
    ‘Yeah. Right.’ I shove some bread in the toaster.
    ‘Did Sam tell you where he was going?’
    ‘Reality check. Sam doesn’t tell me what he’s doing or where he’s going. He’s my brother, remember?’
    ‘You don’t know where he is?’ says Steve.
    ‘No. I told you already. The kid’s nearly fifteen, he can go where he likes for all I care. I’m not his keeper.’
    ‘So he didn’t say anything?’
    ‘He’s going to consult me?’
    ‘LEANNE!’
    ‘I friggin’ don’t know where the frig he is, right? Stop going on, will ya?’
    ‘LE … ANNE!’
    ‘All right, all right,’ says Steve. ‘This squabbling isn’t getting us anywhere.’
    ‘ She started it,’ I go, pointing at Mum.
    ‘And I’m finishing it. If you don’t know where Sam is, that’s fine. Just eat your breakfast,’ says Steve.
    Mum jumps up from the table and goes outside.
    ‘Sam. Sam!’ she yells, like she’s calling a lost dog.
    I butter my toast then spread it thickly with peanut butter and honey, my favourite mixture. Steve gapes at it then pretends not to notice when I scowl at him. Mum trolls back inside looking worried.
    ‘He was upset last night,’ she says. ‘You don’t think he’s run away, do you?’
    ‘Who? Sam?’
    I choke on my toast.
    ‘He wouldn’t have the guts, Mum. It takes guts to do a runner.’
    ‘You’d know.’
    ‘That’ll do,’ says Steve, as the phone rings.
    Mum goes to answer it.
    ‘Steve. It’s for you.’
    Steve goes out to take the call. Mum leans forward so that her face is centimetres away from mine and looks me straight in the eye.
    ‘Leanne, if you wreck my wedding day I’ll never forgive you, do you hear me?’ she hisses.
    I keep chewing and stare right back.
    ‘Well? Do you hear me?’
    ‘You need to pluck your nose hairs,’ I say calmly. She looks like she’s going to lose it right there in our kitchen, but just then Steve comes back looking agitated.
    ‘The van,’ he says, and races out the back door.
    Before we can follow he’s back, looking grim.
    ‘Last night the guys tried to pursue a van that was speeding but they abandoned the chase. Too dangerous. Got the first two rego numbers though, and the computer’s come up with my vehicle as a possibility. Look’s like it’s mine: the van’s missing.’
    I’m stunned. My gooby little brother’s nicked Steve’s van? And been chased by some cops? Wow, he’s got more guts than I thought!
    ‘Sam wouldn’t steal your van,’ says Mum. ‘He can’t even drive.’
    ‘Mum, even an untrained monkey can drive,’ I go. ‘You don’t have to be a genius.’
    ‘No, not my Sam.’
    Mum’s shattered. Her beloved son who can do no wrong has done a runner in her bridegroom’s V8.
    ‘I’d better go down to the station,’ says Steve.
    ‘I’ll drive you,’ goes