The Finding of Freddie Perkins by Liz Baddaley Read Free Book Online Page A

had found Granny P than that Granny P had found the ring. But that was ridiculous, so he told himself to stop being so silly.
    â€˜That’s great, Granny P,’ he said, biting into a crumpet, and then licking the extra splurges of honey from his fingers, ‘that’s really great.’
    * * *
    When Granny P and Freddie went up to the attic after breakfast they found it locked as usual, and Freddie rubbed his eyes, wondering if he had, after all, dreamed getting up, opening it, and leaving the key behind.
    But he knew deep down that he hadn’t dreamed it at all.
    And there were other signs that things had happened during the night. There were no new treasures on the table, but there were some small pieces – looking almost as if they had been a bit chewed – of the yellow scrap paper that he had thrown away during yesterday morning’s sort. And though he was aware that he might be imagining it, he was pretty much convinced that several things were in slightly different places to where they had been at the end of yesterday afternoon.
    Granny P and Freddie made good progress that day, finding a few more collections that Granny P said Freddie should keep, and a few things she said might be valuable. Perhaps the best find was a music box made from burnished walnut. Granny P said that should definitely be out for them all to enjoy, like the rocking horse they had found on the first afternoon.
    They worked so hard, and Freddie was so tired, that it was well into the evening, after supper, before he noticed that a few things had changed around the house whilst they had been in the attic. In fact it was Granny P who spotted the first one.
    â€˜Oh look, Freddie, look, my photo of Reg – your Grandpa – on the day we first met. It fell down behind that big bureau a few months ago and neither Mrs Quinn nor I was strong enough to move it out so that we could get the photo back. I don’t remember mentioning it to your father, but I must have done. What a kind thing to do for me to shift that heavy piece of oak. Oh, I do so love to look at that photo and just remember…’
    Then Freddie spotted two more in quick succession. Exactly at eye level from his favourite chair in the sitting room, on the third from bottom shelf of the big bookcase in the corner, was his MP3 player, which he’d mislaid last week… upstairs.
    And the hat trick was literally that. His dad’s baseball cap, which he’d been moaning about losing, was on one of the coat stand’s hooks in the hall.
    Once Freddie started looking for changes, he found them everywhere. A set of three small glass animal ornaments had become four, a number of the smaller items of furniture had moved slightly to the left or right, and a five-pound note was sitting, bold as brass, in the spare change dish in the hall.
    * * *
    When Dad got home around eight-thirty, he stepped through the door, and noticed his hat straightaway.
    â€˜Oh, brilliant! Who found my cap? Where was it?’
    When there was no response, Dad came into the sitting room, where Freddie and Granny P were relaxing companionably, chatting over the day’s amazing finds between sips of marshmallow-laden, piping hot cocoa.
    â€˜Hi, rascal,’ he said, ruffling Freddie’s hair and then crossing the room to kiss Granny P on the cheek. ‘Where did you find my hat?’
    â€˜I didn’t,’ said Freddie.
    â€˜Oh, was it you, Ma? Where was it?’
    Granny P looked up, ‘I don’t know, Stephen. I didn’t find it. Freddie, are you sure you didn’t find it somewhere, and then just forget?’
    â€˜No, I didn’t. I have no idea where it came from.’
    â€˜Now, Freddie,’ said Dad, warningly. ‘I hope you’re not starting to play games again, are you?’
    â€˜No!’ said Freddie angrily. ‘I’ve already told you both. I don’t know where it was and I didn’t find it. Why does