Food parcels

“I thought you said that you’d made me a bacon sandwich!” Dad cried to Mum.

“I did, about five minutes ago. It’s on the table.” Mum replied.

“No it isn’t.” Dad responded. “There’s just two pieces of bread.”

Mum rushed down the stairs and into the dining room with a slightly irritable expression on her face.

“Well where has the bacon gone?” She said, “You must have eaten it”.

“Of course I haven’t eaten it.” Replied Dad “I’d know if I’d eaten it”

“Well it isn’t the kids.” Mum said as she headed into the kitchen. “Annabelle is eating cereal and Robbie did something weird with chocolate spread.”

“Well I’ll just have to cook some more.” Dad said despondently.

“Sorry.” Mum replied “There is no more, I cooked the last of it for you earlier, you’ll have to have fruit!”

“Fruit!” Dad exclaimed indignantly. “I’m going to play a round of golf with Martin Smart, I’ll be on my feet for four hours! In fact the way Martin plays, more likely five hours. Fruit is fine if you’re off to do some light pilates, I need a breakfast to fill me up.”

Mum just shrugged and returned to the kitchen to try and de-scale the iron, a task for which life just seemed too short.

“Oh I’ll call at the snack van in town.” Dad said with a frustrated tone and he left the house, slightly slamming the door behind him.

There was the patter of feet and Annabelle rushed into the kitchen.

“Where’s my waffle gone?” She asked Mum.

“I thought you were having cereal.” Mum replied not lifting her head from the onerous task she was working on.

“I did.” Annablle replied. “But I also toasted a waffle. I put the plate on the floor whilst I went to text Faye and when I turned around, there was just an empty plate and the waffle had gone.”

“I have no idea.” Mum replied. “Is nobody capable of looking after their breakfast today. Your brother hasn’t taken it as he went out with Nick about ten minutes ago and your Dad wouldn’t touch a waffle with an eight foot barge pole. You must have kicked it under the bed or something”

Annabelle let out a frustrated sigh and stomped back up the stairs.

Mum was interrupted by a knock at the door which because of its unexpected nature, made her dip her bookmark in her tea.

At the door stood PC Gayle.

“Good morning Ma’m, this is a bit of a long shot, but I’m investigating a missing chocolate bar and wondered if you might have seen anyone eating such a thing this morning?”

“Isn’t that a waste of police time constable?” Mum enquired. “It’s not usual for the police to undertake a house to house enquiry for a missing chocolate bar. Who’s was it?”

“Mine” PC Gayle responded with a disappointed and slightly peckish look on his face. “I took my jacket off to retrieve Mrs Pennington-Smythe’s keys from a drain, I hung the jacket on a parking meter and when I put it on, well, my mid-morning snack had disappeared.

“Sorry constable, can’t help, but I hope you find it.” Mum smiled trying to be as sympathetic as she could.

As Mum went to close the door, Bubbles the cat shot through her legs and into the house.

“Funny” Mum said to herself as it looked like Bubbles had tomato sauce around her mouth.

Mum dashed into the garden to see Bubbles disappear behind a particularly bushy bush right at the end of the property.

Mum put on her boots and slowly made her way up the garden and peaked around the bush.

There, by the fence, was Bubbles the cat and a young Robin that was clearly distressed with what looked like a damaged wing. Next to the robin, was two slices of bacon, a toasted waffle, a chocolate bar and for reasons Mum would never be able to explain, a pair of Robbie’s swimming trunks.

Bubbles had clearly found the bird and was trying to provide it with some food.

Mum gently put the bird in a shoe box and cared for it over the next few days until it was healed and ready to fly off.

“Only Bubbles!” Exclaimed Dad as the story was retold to him later that evening. “I didn’t think cats were supposed to like birds.” He carried on, “And I notice she didn’t give the bird any of her own food.”

“Well I think it’s very sweet.” Mum replied. “Not only that but we’ve helped to improve PC Gayle’s crime solving figures.”

After comprehensively beating Martin Smart at golf, Dad just had to laugh.

Weird berry

It was a scorching hot day. Annabelle had invited her best friend Faye Rosewood to the house and it was so hot, they just mooched around the house not quite sure what to do with themselves. Even Bubbles the cat found a cool, shady spot underneath the chest of drawers and refused to move for over four hours.

Mum was at home and was feeling particularly frazzled as she was practicing baking a cake for Mrs Pennington’Smythe’s local, village bake-off contest.

“Can I have a drink Mum?” Asked a fairly desperate Annabelle.

“Why don’t you girl’s make smoothies?” Suggested Mum, “I have loads of left over milk in the fridge!”

There were a couple of bananas in the house but not a lot else.

“There’s some strawberries and raspberries you could pick in the garden, then you could go to the woods to pick some blackberries or blackcurrants, and Grandma Susan has some lovely gooseberries, I’m should you could call and pick a few” Suggested Mum.

So the girls picked fruit from the garden, put on floppy hats and collected gooseberries from Grandma Susan and then made their way to the wood. There were lots of different edible berries. The girls had been taught to only pick berries that they knew. What they didn’t notice was a particularly weird berry slip into the basket. It had a bit of blackberry, a bit of raspberry, a bit of blueberry, a bit of gooseberry and a bit of something yellow that didn’t really look like any berry.

The girls got home, washed all the fruit and whizzed it all up in a blender.

“Why don’t we give some smoothies to people walking past that we know?” Suggested Faye, “If they like it, we could sell them more and earn some pocket money.

Annabelle thought this was an awesome idea and Mum agreed so long as they only approached people that they knew.

They set a couple of chairs by the front gate along with a little table and a large umbrella to keep them cool.

First along was Robbie and his friend Nick who were coming home from the park.

“Want a smoothie?” asked Faye.

The boys were so hot that they agreed. They downed the liquid and then did the strangest thing. They leapt at each other, bouncing their chests together and made a strange grunting noise.

“You are the coolest sister” Said Robbie, as they went inside.

“Must be the heat” Said a bemused Annabelle. Robbie had never said anything like that before.

Next along was Mum’s friend Mrs Pennington-Smythe who was returning from the shops.

“Want a smoothie, if you like it you can buy some” Said Annabelle.

Mrs Pennington-Smythe politely took a drink. Then the oddest thing happened.

 “I’ll certainly have some of that” She almost shouted.

Then as she walked up the road, she made a sort of whooping noise and flicked the back of her skirt in the air at least 5 times.

“Never seen her act like that before” Said Annabelle.

Grandma Susan called by to see how the girls had got on. She tried a smoothie and then did the oddest thing.

She pulled some tins of soup that she’d just bought out of her shopping back and tossed them straight up into the air.

“Wow, that tastes good” She said and then skipped into the house.

Miss Gurney the head teacher was next along the road. She agreed to try a smoothie as she was so hot.

“Girls, that is delish’” she said, “I’ll buy three containers full please”

She then walked off down the street singing Waltzing Matilda at the tp of her voice.

“Do you think she’d been drinking alcohol?” Asked a bemused Faye.

“Certainly odd” Replied Annabelle.

Mum came out to check on the girls just as PC Gayle was walking by. Both Mum and the PC tried a smoothie and then the oddest thing happened.

“That’s gorgeous and so are you” Said Mum who promptly grabbed PC Gayle and planted a big kiss on his lips.

PC Nick strutted a few paces up the street, turned around and made a strange seal hooting noise and clapped his hands together.

Annabelle was so shocked, she didn’t know what to say.

“The smoothie’s all gone” Said Faye “And we never got to try any.”

The hot weather continued and over the next few days, there were several calls at the house.

Miss Gurney, Mrs Pennington-Smythe, PC Gayle and Grandma Susan all called round on the off chance that the girls might have made some smoothies. It had been so nice, they were willing to buy some.

Mum was equally keen, as was Robbie and Nick.

So the girls picked some more fruit from the garden, got some more gooseberries from Grandma Susan’s house and picked some more berries from the wood. But even though they hadn’t noticed it the first time, they never picked another one of those weird berries.

The smoothie’s that they made were very nice, everyone who bought some seemed to enjoy them, but they never returned to ask for more.

Day of disaster

Mum had the day to herself and was looking forward to leisurely completing the few chores that she had lined up.
Mum had promised to make a rice pudding for the local women’s group lunch after a request from Mrs Pennington-Smythe, Robbie had asked for his pet rabbit to be cleaned out, Annabelle needed her paper mache chicken head painting for her part in the school play. Bubbles the cat needed feeding and Dad wanted a sandwich making for his tea.
A few things to do, but Mum had a knack for multi-tasking and set about her jobs.
First on the list was the rice pudding. Mrs Pennington-Smythe was very difficult to turn down when she asked for help and Mum’s rice pudding was legendary due to the honeyed sultanas that she dropped into the mix.
Mum put on the radio and found herself shimmying around the kitchen to a stream of disco hits and she put the ingredients together and slipped the rice pudding into the oven.
Mum pulled the pudding out of the oven ten minutes before Mrs Pennington-Smythe was due to call. She decided to taste the pudding to make sure it was sweet enough. One taste and Mum could feel herslf starting to blush even though she was alone in the house. The pudding was sweet, the sultanas were delicious, the nutmeg seasoning was perfect, but Mum had forgotten to add the rice. All she had was a steaming bowl of beautifully tasting hot milk.
Mm couldn’t stand the idea of losing face in front of Mrs Pennington-Smyhte and desperately tried to think of a way out of the problem. She heard a car door close out on the street and at the same time Bubbles the cat trotted through the door flap hoping for some lunch.
Mum took one look at the pudding and promptly poured it over her head.
Mrs Pennington-Smythe walked through the back door seconds later and was confronted by Mum dripping milk from all her clothing and fringe.
“Bubbles tripped me up” Wailed Mum “I dropped your pudding all over me and now I’ve got nothing to give you for the lunch”
Mrs Pennington-Smythe secretly loved a crisis.
“Don’t worry dear, I’ll sort something out” She proclaimed. “Naughty cat” she shouted at a bemused Bubbles as she quickly flew out the door.
“Sorry Bubbles” Said Mum. “I’ll do you some food in a minute”.
Mum threw her clothes into the wash and went upstairs for a quick shower.
Robbie had brought home the school bunny for the weekend as all [pupils had a turn to look after it. Mum had volunteered to clean out the rabbit and made this her next job. She gently lifted him from the cage not realising that her sands were still a little soapy from the shower. The bunny slipped out of her hands and sensing his freedom, shot down the stairs and out of the cat flap.
Mum shot down after him, flew out the door and flung herself into a bush as she saw the rabbits tail disappearing. The good news is that Mum managed to catch the bunny. The bad news is that she landed into a small pile of pooh that some kind of animal had neatly deposited in the bush.
“Great” Mum said to herself, “I’ll need another shower”.
Mum walked back to the house, Bunny in hand. She looked on in horror as she realised that the door had dead-locked behind her. Mum had not come out with a handbag in the rush and her keys were inside the house.
What could she do?
She peered through the cat flap and tried to coax Bubbles into getting the keys for her and bringing them out.
Being a cat, Bubbles had no idea what she was saying and was only interested in being given his lunch.
Mum had left a window open on the top floor. Her only option was to borrow a ladder from their neighbour Mr Barclay, climb up and through the open window.
Mr Barclay was happy to help and up Mum climbed. It was a tight squeeze climbing through the window. Mr Barclay felt slightly guilty about not volunteering to climb the ladder himself, but Mum was quite athleic nad Mr Barclay rather enjoyed the view.
Mum finally squeezed through the window. It led to Annabelle’s bedroom. She dropped to the bed, bounced on Annabelle’s new mattress, lost her balance and landed on Annabelle’s paper mache chicken head turning it into a crushed figure that looked like some weird clowns mask.
Mum couldn’t believe her luck. She now had only a couple of hours to repair the chicken head before Annabelle got home. She needed to buy newspaper, paste and paint.
She raced out the door again skidding to a halt as she saw a patient Bubbles waiting by her food bowl. Mum quickly emptied a can of cat food into Bubble’s bowl and shot out of the house.
Bubbles was glad of the sudden silence and settled to eat her meal. Unfortunately, Mum’s slamming of the door had caused a precariously positioned bag of rice, the same rice that mum had forgotten to put in the pudding to fall. The bag of rice landed on the edge of the cat bowl which subsequently flipped into the air and landed on Bubbles head. Bubbles did a cat like sigh and wandered out into the garden, deciding it would be easier to try and catch a bird.
Mum finally got home with her craft products and set about repairing Annabelle’s chicken head. Why Annabelle needed a chicken’s head, Mum didn’t quite understand as Annabelle was appearing in a school version of Oliver, but Mum hadn’t had the time or energy to try and make sense of it all.
Mum worked furiously and completed restoration of the chicken head just before her family were due home. It didn’t look quite as good as the earlier version, but she didn’t think Annabelle would notice.
Dad, Annabelle and Robbie all arrived home together and quickly completed their household tasks before going out again.
Mum collapsed exhausted in a chair, but only for thirty seconds before her family accusingly burst through the door.
“Why does my chicken head look like a toad” Wailed Annabelle.
“Why is my bunny covered in pooh” Demanded Robbie
“Where’s my sandwich” Snapped Dad. “I did ask you this morning and you’ve had nothing to do today” Dad continued.
At this remark Mum flipped.
She leapt up from her chair. She snarled at Robbie, growled at Annabelle and through a custard cream biscuit at Dad that clipped him round the ear as he attempted to duck.
Nobody understood the day that Mum had had.
But all ended well.
Mrs Pennington-Smythe bought a rather delicious strawberry gateaux for the lunch. Everyone loved Annabelle’s chicken costume. Robbie’s bunny was safely returned to school and Dad had fish and chips for tea from the local takeaway that he rather enjoyed.

That sinking feeling

Robbie’s class homework was all about hobbies. For the following day, the whole class had to take in an example of their hobby or something they admired about someone else’s hobby. Although Robbie had been very proud of his stick insect collection, Annabelle had accidentally thrown it away when Robbie had left the jam jar in the garden so that the stick insects could do a spot of sun-bathing.
Dad had suggested that Robbie talk to their neighbour Mr Barclay. Robbie thought that this was a great idea. Mr Barclay made the most amazing wooden boats that had the most intricate details on them. Robbie was delighted that Mr Barclay agreed that he could take a boat to school.
“Whatever you do, don’t try to sail it” Said Mr Barclay. “Leave your phone on and I’ll text you if it’s a problem” Mr Barclay continued.
Robbie was out of credit but would sort that out with Mum in the evening.
It was all a bit of a rush the next morning and Robbie had forgotten to tp up the credit on his mobile.
“Did Mr Barclay bring a boat round for me?” Asked Robbie.
“No, but I have the key to his house”. “Did he say it was okay to take one?” Asked Dad.
“Oh yes” Said Robbie, deliberately forgetting to mention about how Mr Barclay was going to text him any important information.
Robbie’s friend Nick arrived on his way to school and the two boys followed Dad into Mr Barclay’s hall.
There under the hat stand was a rather rickety, but brilliantly made wooden boat.
The boys were delighted and carefully carried the boat to school, arriving ten minutes late for class as they were being so careful not to drop it.
There presentation in the lesson was a big success and the teacher Miss Knowles was extremely pleased with them.
“Shall we float it on the pond in the park?” Asked Nick after school. It was a glorious afternoon and it seemed such a pity not to take advantage.
“Mr Barclay did say not to, but I guess a quick sail wouldn’t hurt” Replied Nick.
So they sent it across the pond. The vessel looked majestic with its sails standing proudly fluttering gently in a light breeze.
Robbie and Nick took a moment to watch Billy Sadler at bat in a knockabout cricket match. Billy was a fine batsman and Nick and Robbie both applauded as Billy hit a soaring shot high into the sky.
But suddenly, both boys stopped applauding and just stood with their mouths slightly a gape.
The ball soared over their heads and landed in the middle of the pond, right on Mr Barclay’s boat, smashing it to a hundred pieces.
Billy was very apologetic, but Robbie was distraught. What was he going to tell Mr Barclay?
“Let’s try to re-create it” Helpfully suggested Robbie.
With nothing else up their sleeves, both boys thought that this was the only option to save face and maybe give Mr Barclay a new, better ship.
They got some wood from Dad’s shed. Some glue from mum’s drawer. Some hankies from Annabelle’s room and some paint from the school art room.
They cut, sawed, hammered, glued and painted.
At one point, Nick got a piece of wood stuck to his finger. He waved it quickly up and down in an attempt to un-stick it an managed to hit Bubbles the cat square in the nose.
Eventually after about four hours, the boys examined their finished craft.
It in no way looked how they had hoped and actually resembled a rabbit hutch rather than an elegant ship.
They filled the bath with water so that they could send their craft on it’s maiden voyage. Both boys after the event, were convinced that it stayed afloat for at least two seconds before it sunk to the bottom of the bath and immediately disintegrated leaving a sodden mess of cotton, glue and wood that mum was then trying to clean away from the bath for the next month.
After a sleepless night, Robbie trudged round to confess to Mr Barclay with Dad hovering a few paces behind in case Robbie decided to try and run off.
He knocked on the door and saw Mr Barclay’s shadow looming towards him.
“Ah, Robbie” He cheerfully said. “How was the homework?” “I see you got my text and thanks for bringing my boat safely back in its display case.”
Robbie tried to speak, but his mouth had lost the ability to move.
“Thanks also for taking away that old prototype of mine” Continued Mr Barclay. “I really had no need for it any more and it was getting in the way somewhat”.
Robbie wanted to leap up and down and give Mr Barclay a bit hug. He had the broadest smile on his face which didn’t slip a bit, even when Dad whispered
“You’re still grounded young man.”
Robbie immediately rang Nick to tell him of their lucky escape and both boys decided that if there were any further hobby days at school, they would take their favourite Top trump sets.

What a pickle

Robbie and his friends had come up with a wacky idea. They gave each other a week to go shopping with their mum's, slip an item into the shopping basket, pay for it at the checkout and get it home without mum noticing until the shopping was unpacked. Surprisingly, all six of the group that concocted this idea succeeded. Robbie's friend Nick had managed it with a raspberry jelly, Robbie had sneaked through a jar of pickles.

"What on earth is this?" asked mum as she unpacked at home. 

Robbie came clean and mum couldn't help but laugh.  She also told  Robbie in no uncertain terms, not to do it again. Robbie took a photo of mum holding the jar of pickles to show his friends and was quite happy when mum told him she would take it to her book club raffle. After all, nobody in the family particularly liked pickles.

The following day, mum came home from her book club.

"There's good news and bad news" she announced.

"The good news is, I won a prize in the book club raffle. The bad news is that I won the blasted pickles again."

Everybody laughed.

"I'll take the pickles round to Mr Barclay" Suggested Dad. Mr Barclay was their next door neighbour.

Now once a week, Annabelle emptied Mr Barclay's rubbish bins to earn a little bit of extra pocket money. The next day, as she took the rubbish outside, one of the bags split. Annabelle thought she had picked it all up, but she failed to notice the jar of pickles as it fell to the ground and rolled gently to their front door. Mum was completely bemused as she opened the door a little later and found the pickles lying on their step.

"I'll go and bury them in the wood" suggested Robbie. He jumped on his bike, took a trowel and dug a fairly deep hole. He put in the jar of pickles and covered them with earth.

The following day, the family heard the gate open at the end of the path and Dad felt sure he caught a glimpse of the mysterious dog that had helped him a few weeks previously. There on the step, was a muddy jar of pickles.

"I'll clean them up and take them into the office. One of the girls will probably take them " Said Dad.

That evening, Dad came home with a glum look on his face.

"I told one of the girls to take the jar on my desk" He said. "They took the wrong jar and went off with my humbugs" He wailed.

"I know" Said mum. "I'll donate them to the jumble sale being held at the village hall. If we then don't go to the sale, we can't get them back."

So that's what they did. But that evening, there was a knock at the door and there stood Mum's friend Mrs Pennington-Smythe.

" I saw these at the jumble sale" She said, holding up the jar of the pickles. "You always seem to have some around the house when I've been here recently so I thought you might like them."

The whold family collapsed in hysterical laughter leaving a bemused Mrs Pennington-Smythe to leave with a baffled expression on her face.

The jar of pickles were moved to a corner of the garage as a family mascot and always brought a smile to any member of the family when they saw them.

 Thanks to Morgan Johnstone for suggesting the two words - Jumble & pickles.

Horrible homework

For the first time in like, ever! Robbie had been enjoying his homework. In an inspired attempt to teach his class history, Miss Knowles had introduced them to the concept of 'Horrible history' from around the World and had set them the homework of finding the most gruesome things possible.

Some had gone better that others. Robbie's small poxed make-up had frightened music teacher Miss Jarvis so much, that she had dropped a trumbone onto her left big toe.

 Another boy on the class had come to school with a fake axe through his head but had got it jammed in the door and had given himself a nosebleed. Unfortunately, the nose bleed had seeped through to Miss Knowles's packed lunch and she had become quite grumpy.

There had been putrid pirates and evil Queen's galore and one boy had even come in with a papier mache horses head that ended up being the classroom mascot for the rest of the year.

All the class had learnt loads about terrible diseases, evil tyrants and unpleasant methods of punishing people.

Then one morning, just after the project had ended, Robbie's friend Nick seemed to go a funny shade of light green and apparently lost the ability to talk. He pushed his chair away from Robbie so fast that he actually toppled over and ended up crushing Katie Dunn's new school satchel.

Robbie was confused but couldn't get a coherent sentence out of Nick.

 Nick just said "Orrrrrlaminkkle' or 'Plagggguespoooootik'

Robbie put it down to Nick's team suffering a bad loss the night before and got on with his simple arithmetic problems.

But suddenly, as the day went on, Nick started doing the strangest things .

He got a blanket from lost property and put it on Nick in the middle of recorder practice in music. He sneaked out of school and bought Robbie an iced bun at lunchtime. He kept bringing cups of water and at one point offered Robbie a warm, wet towel.

At the end of the day, Nick went rushing to Miss Knowles and whispered in her ear.

Miss Knowles wasn't known for her hysterical laughter but this particular bout went on for about 5 minutes. At last, she regained her composure and called Robbie over.

"No Nick" she said. "Robbie is not dying and does not have the plague. Those freckle-like spots and rashes are not symptoms of the bubonic plague. They're specks of paint from earlier today when Robbie was helping us finish off our Horrible history display for assembly" "He obviously missed a bit when he washed his ha......AH-hahahahaha..."

Miss Knowles collapsed again in uncontrollable mirth.  Nick went a bright shade of crimson and crestfallen, skulked out of the classroom feeling a bit of a twit.

Robbie, although he could see the funny side, was kind of touched that his friend Nick had cared so much.

That night, Nick asked mum to knock up a batch of homemade iced buns. He took them round to Nick's house and they happily munched them whilst watching not horrible histories, but a replay of Nick's favourite team winning away from home. 

 Story based on the two suggested words - Dying & World.

Doorstep dilemma

It was a quiet summer’s evening. Mum was baking muffins, Dad was watching the game on TV and Robbie was trying to locate a particularly itchy piece of ear wax with a pencil.

The letter box gently rattled and Annabelle came into the lounge a couple of minutes later clutching an unaddressed envelope.

“I don’t know what this is or who it is for” She announced.

“Open it sweetie” Said Mum s she handed around honeycomb muffins that were still warm and so delicious that they rendered everyone speechless for a few moments.

“ It’s a poem” Said Annabelle. “It says”
I promise that I’m not a bore
Meet at the clock at say, ten past four.

None of the family knew what this meant and as Dad’s team were losing, he suggested that the family go to the clock in the town for 4 o’clock to see if any light could be thrown on this mystery.

They arrived in town on time, only to find the place almost deserted. Just Billy Sadler, a boy from Annabelle’s school sat on a bench near the clock. He looked horrified to see Annabelle and made a vague attempt to cover his face with his collar.

“Maybe, he fancies you” Joked Robbie.

“No chance” Replied Annabelle “He’s never liked me since I snapped his protractor.”

The family returned home and forgot about the mysterious rhyme. But then the next day, at the same time, another poem arrived through the post box, again unaddressed.

This time Robbie read it
You’ll have the best time since you’ve been alive
Meet at the clock around quarter to five.

Once again the family went to the town clock at the time specified on the rhyme and again nothing happened and nobody appeared, although Billy Sadler was again sitting on the same bench.

The family went home and almost found themselves hoping that another rhyme would arrive the next day. And indeed it did. Mum decided it was her turn to read
A fun filled evening at the flicks
Meet at the clock at twenty past six.

But it was the same story. The family went to the clock. Nobody came to meet them and Billy Sadler was again sitting on the bench.

“Does that boy not have a home to go to” Exclaimed Dad.
“He’s a loser” replied Annabelle.

Mum treated the family to a night at the cinema anyway and Robbie was very proud to have managed to stuff 25 pieces of popcorn into his mouth at one time.

The next day, another poem arrived and Dad read it out loud.
I’m not allowed out as late as eleven
Best I can do, is five past seven.

The family went to the clock for five past seven and once again saw Billy Sadler although this time he was hopping from foot to foot in a slightly agitated way.

Mum decided to go and make sure he was all right.

“I’m fine” Said Billy. “I was hoping that Ashleigh Campbell would agree to meet me, I’ve left four notes through her door at number 65, but she hasn’t turned up”

“Billy “ Said mum in a gentle voice. “We live at number 65, I think you may have left the notes at the wrong house”

Billy dived for his pocket and pulled out a grubby piece of paper that looked like it had been through the washing machine at least twice. Billy suddenly went a bright shade of crimson and he was sure that mum could feel the heat from his cheeks.

“Oh no” he wailed “I should have put it through number 95”

Annabelle had slouched over at this point and couldn’t help letting out a little shriek of amusement.

Billy hurried home and Annabelle made sure that she facebooked Ashleigh to relate the story.

Ashleigh pretended to not be interested, but was actually a little flattered.

She left a little note in Billy’s locker the following day whilst nobody was looking.
It said.
You may not have found my front door
But I’ll be at the clock at just after four.

Ashleigh and Billy only went on the one date and that was to a café in the next town so that nobody would recognise them. But Billy had a wide smile on his face for at least a week.