turning round. âEverythingâs all right then?â
It was the wrong thing to say. Even Mr Troll saw that when Mrs Priddleâs eyes bulged like a toad.
âAll right?â she burst out. âAll right? You turn up here and ruin our holiday! You sleep in our beds and eat all our food! And, as if thatâs not enough, last night you tried to drown us!â
âYouâre having a temper,â observed Mr Troll.
âI know Iâm having a temper!â shouted Mrs Priddle.
âThatâs OK, trolls have tempers. I roar when Iâm having a temper. It makes you feel better.â
âI donât want to roar,â glared Mrs Priddle. âI just want you to take your things and go!â
Mr and Mrs Troll looked at each other and back at the Priddles. âGo?â
âYes â go!â
Mrs Troll blinked. âBut we were just starting to enjoy ourselves.â
âIn case you hadnât noticed,
I
am not enjoying myself,â said Mrs Priddle. âI am cold, wet and miserable.â
âAnd having a temper,â added Mr Troll helpfully.
âBut where can we go?â asked Mrs Troll.
âI donât care! Anywhere! Find a hotel, a bus shelter â anything you like as long as itâs not near us.â
Mr Troll rubbed his snout. âSo weâre not on holidays any more?â
âNot with us youâre not!â thundered Mrs Priddle, and stalked off up the hill with her husband following meekly behind. The Trolls stared after them, at a loss.
âWell! For uggnessâ sake!â sighed Mrs Troll.
âYes,â agreed Mr Troll. âFancy getting all hot and blethered over a tiddly bit of water.â
âIt was quite a lot of water,â admitted Mrs Troll. âBut you know what peeples are like.â Her husband nodded. âMad as a sack of goblins.â
âAnd just when I thought we were all getting on so well,â said Mrs Troll. âWhat are we going to do now, Eggy? Where are we going to sleep tonight?â
Mr Troll frowned. âI donât know. Whereâs Ulrik?â
They looked around. There was no sign of him. Warren stood with his back to the barn and his hands covering his eyes. He seemed to be counting to himself.
âAhh! Theyâre playing a game!â said Mrs Troll. âWhy donât we leave them, Eggy? Thereâs no sense in upsetting Ulrik now. We can come back for him once weâve found somewheres to sleep.â
âAll right,â agreed Mr Troll. âYou think there might be caves?â
âYou never know.â
âCome on, my lugly.â
Mr Troll took his wifeâs hand and together they set off towards the village.
Hide and Sneak
â⦠Forty-nine, fifty!â Warren opened his eyes. Actually, he hadnât kept them fully closed. Heâd been peeking through his fingers the whole time in order to see where Ulrik went. Just as he suspected, Ulrik had made a beeline for the woods, since there wasnât really anywhere else on the farm to hide. It wouldnât take long to find him, though Warren wasnât in a tearing hurry. The woods were dark and they backed on to Boggy Moor. Warren wasnât scared himself, of course. All thesame, as he entered the woods, he stopped to arm himself with a big stick.
He followed a rough, muddy path and eventually came to a wide clearing overgrown with ferns. Looking around, he half expected to see Ulrikâs large hairy head or his bottom poking out from behind one of the trees. There was no sign of him. Warren went on, swishing at the tops of the ferns with his stick.
Swish!
Ogwen had warned them to stay out of the woods, he recalled. There wasnât anything to worry about, of course â the beast only came out after dark.
Swish, swish!
Though you could never be certain. It might be here watching him right now.
He halted and glanced around nervously. Maybe if he hadnât stopped he