“What?” asked Dad, astonished.
“But you said she was boring,” said Mum, equally astonished, irritated even. “You said all old people are.”
“I was just joking,” said Ben.
Dad studied his son in the rear-view mirror. He found understanding his plumbing-obsessed son hard enough at the best of times. Right now Ben wasn’t making any sense at all. “Mmm, well… if you are sure, Ben…”
“I am sure, Dad.”
“I’ll call her when we get home. Just to check she’s not going out.”
“Going out!” scoffed Mum. “The old dear hasn’t gone out for twenty years!” she added with a chuckle.
Ben wasn’t sure why this was funny.
“I took her out to the garden centre that time,” protested Dad.
“It was only because you needed someone to help you carry a load of bags of manure,” said Mum.
“She had a super day out, though,” said Dad, sounding miffed.
Later, Ben sat alone on his bed. His mind was racing.
Where on earth had Granny got the diamonds?
How much were they worth?
Why would she live in that sad little bungalow if she was so rich?
Ben searched and searched his mind, but couldn’t find any answers.
Then Dad entered the room.
“Granny’s busy. She says she’d love to see you, but she’s going out tonight,” he announced.
“What?!” spluttered Ben. Granny hardly ever went out – Ben had seen her calendar. The mystery was getting even more mysterious…
A Small Wig in a Jar
Ben hid in the bushes outside Granny’s bungalow. Whilst Mum and Dad were downstairs in the living room watching Strictly Stars Dancing on the TV, Ben had scaled down the drainpipe outside his bedroom window, and cycled the five miles to Granny’s.
This alone was a sign of how curious Ben had become about his granny. He didn’t like cycling. His parents were always encouraging him to get more exercise. They told him that being fit was absolutely necessary if you wanted to be a professional dancer. But since it didn’t make much difference when you were lying under a sink, screwing in a new length of copper piping, Ben had never willingly taken any exercise.
Until now.
If Granny was really going out for the first time in twenty years, Ben had to know where. It might just hold the key to how she came to have a ton of diamonds in her biscuit tin.
So he huffed and puffed along the canal towpath on his clunky old bike, until he came to Grey Close. The only good thing was that, being November, instead of being drenched in sweat, Ben was only mildly moist.
He had pedalled fast because he knew he didn’t have that much time. Strictly Stars Dancing seemed to go on for hours, days even, but it had taken Ben half an hour to cycle over to Granny’s, and as soon as the show was over Mum would be calling him downstairs for his tea. Ben’s parents loved all the dancing TV shows – Dancing on Ice Skates, So You Think You Might Be Able To Dance A Bit? – but they were completely obsessed with Strictly Stars Dancing. They had recorded every single episode, and had an unrivalled collection of Strictly memorabilia in the house, including:
• A lime green thong once worn by Flavio Flavioli, framed with a photograph of him wearing it
• A Strictly Stars Dancing real fake leather bookmark
• Some athlete’s foot powder signed by Flavio’s professional dance partner, the Austrian beauty, Eva Bunz
• His and Hers official Strictly Stars Dancing leg warmers
• A CD of songs nearly used on the show
• A small wig in a jar that had been worn by the presenter, Sir Dirk Doddery
• A lifesize cardboard cut-out of Flavio Flavioli that had some of Mum’s lipstick smudged around the mouth
• Some earwax in a jar that belonged to a celebrity contestant, the politician, Dame Rachel Prejudice MP
• A pair of tan tights that smelled of Eva Bunz
• A doodle on a napkin of a man’s bottom drawn by the nasty judge, Craig Malteser-Woodward
• A set of official Strictly Stars Dancing eggcups
• A half full tube of raxjex used by Flavio Flavioli
• A Craig Malteser-Woodward poseable action figure
• A Hawaiian Hot pizza crust that had been left by Flavio (complete with a signed letter of authenticity from Eva Bunz)
It was a Saturday, so after the show had finished the family were going to be having Cheesy Beans and Sausage. Neither Mum nor Dad could cook, but of all the readymade meals Ben’s mum took out of the freezer, pricked with a fork and placed in the microwave for three minutes, this was his favourite. Ben was hungry and didn’t want to miss it – which meant he needed to get back from Granny’s house quickly. If it had been a Monday night, say, and they were having Chicken Tikka Lasagne, or a Wednesday and Doner Kebab Pizza, or a Sunday and Yorkshire Pudding Chow Mein* was on the menu, Ben wouldn’t have been so bothered.
Night was falling. As it was late November it was rapidly growing colder and darker, and Ben was shivering in the bushes as he spied on his granny. Where can she be going? thought Ben. She hardly ever goes out.
* The supermarket chain where Ben’s dad worked liked to bring the cuisine of two countries together in one easily microwaveable pack. By combining dishes from different countries, perhaps they would be able to bring peace to a deeply divided world. Or maybe not.
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