Belly Flop Read Free Page A

sploshed into Gran’s beer.
    And that’s why I’ve invited every kid in town to my party.

 
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    We’re all sitting here watching the chocolate crackles melt and waiting for the kids to arrive.
    They should be here any minute.
    Mum and Dad have just had a private conversation in the kitchen and they don’t seem so worried now about the extra kids.
    When Mum and Dad came back in I had a thought.
    â€˜Let’s drag my bed in,’ I said, ‘for the kids at the back to stand on so they can see the card tricks and the ping-pong balls.’
    Mum and Dad looked at each other.
    I think they could see the sense in it.
    â€˜And we’d better put some more mashed baked beans in the taco dip,’ I said.
    â€˜Good idea,’ said Mum. ‘We’ll do it after they get here.’
    Dad nodded and spilled his tea.
    I think we’re all pretty excited.
    Except Gran.
    She seems to be frowning a lot, though that could because her cigarette ash has dropped down inside her bra.
    They shouldn’t be much longer now, Doug.
    You probably think I’m a bit mental, having a party when everyone hates me.
    I’m not.
    I’ve thought about this for weeks and I reckon it’s a good plan.
    You work with kids, Doug, so be honest.
    What kid can resist a party?
    None in this town, it’s a known fact.
    Plus I’ve made it really easy for them.
    I hand-delivered the invitations to their school lockers so they wouldn’t have to make conversation with me.
    I chose three o’clock as the starting time so they wouldn’t have to gobble their lunch.
    And I made it fancy dress so they could come in disguise if they were embarrassed to be seen here.
    They’ll arrive soon, you wait and see.
    Oops.
    Gran’s choking on a Cheezel.
    I’d better go and bang her on the back.
    Hope you don’t mind me sending my thoughts to you like this, Doug.
    It helps me keep my mind off the clock.
    If me yakking on like this is making it hard for you to concentrate on saving any of the other kids on your roster, don’t listen, OK?
    It’s twenty-seven past three.
    Mum and Dad are looking a bit stressed.
    Pity angels only do rescues.
    We could do with something to break the tension and give us a laugh.
    One of the balloons popping or Dad sitting on the pikelets or something.
    Dad’s been showing me the features of the calculator they gave me for my birthday.
    â€˜Look,’ he said, ‘it calculates loan repayments to six decimal places.’
    Gran had a coughing fit.
    I decided I’d better try and help everyone relax.
    â€˜Don’t worry,’ I said, ‘the kids have probably been held up.’
    â€˜I doubt it,’ said Gran, ‘seeing as it only takes thirteen and a half minutes to walk from one end of town to the other, fourteen in a dust storm.’
    Poor old Gran.
    She gets a bit grumpy sometimes.
    It’s from being ancient.
    I reckon she’s remarkable for her age, but she does have one habit that gets her into a bit of strife.
    Remember how she’s always been a heavy smoker, Doug?
    Well now she eats while she does it.
    I don’t blame her, but.
    If I was in my twilight years I’d want to pack as much as I could into each moment too. I’d probably do something dopey like watch videos in the shower.
    There goes Gran now, puffing away and choking on a chocolate crackle.
    She’s always choking on chocolate crackles.
    It’s her fault, she knows she should pour hot milk on them first. She knows they don’t get soft enough when she dips them in her beer.
    What makes it worse is she’s pretty tall for an old person so she’s got long pipes. That means when food gets stuck it’s got a fair distance to travel and she needs a lot of thumps on the back.
    It’s OK but, she’s pretty solid.
    S’cuse me Doug.
    It’s nineteen minutes to four.
    Mum and Dad are looking very