Bryony Bell Tops the Bill Read Free

poked his head out.
    â€˜And mark my words Bryony — one day they’ll be yours for keeps,’ he whispered under his breath, ‘or my name’s not Bob Bell!’
    Then, with a cough and a roar and a spray of gravel, he drove away.
    * * *
    Bryony fetched the Viper 3000s from the airing cupboard and took them upstairs, where she hid them under her bed. Sitting in front of her dressing table mirror, she brushed her long blonde curls vigorously and gathered them into two very pert bunches, each secured with a silky pink and white orchid. She smiled bravely at her reflection; and her reflection smiled bravely back at her, and winked.
    It could be worse, she thought to herself. Some people never got to wear Viper 3000s — and she had them for a whole fortnight. And some people didn’t even have a handed-back sailor dress to wear to a disco after their school play.
    At the thought of the school play Bryony shook her head, got up, and strapped on her everyday black rollerskates. She wasn’t even going to think about the school play. That couldreally push her over the edge.
    Humming tunelessly to keep her spirits up she set off for school, skating sedately along until she reached the end of the road. When she had turned the corner and was out of sight of prying neighbours’ eyes, she picked up speed. Checking that the pavement was relatively empty, she balanced on the outside edges of her right foot, stretched her left leg straight out behind her, and glided towards the kerb where she jumped, spun in mid-air, and landed with her back to the road. Then, pushing off on her left foot and with her right leg in the air, she executed an elegant curve round the postman, finishing with a forward arabesque.
    The postman stopped and watched her in admiration.
    â€˜That’s pure genius, Bryony Bell,’ he said, putting his bag down in wonder. ‘Poetry in motion, that is. Going to let me see a spin, then?’
    â€˜Sure,’ said Bryony. ‘Hang on!’ She handed him her schoolbag and skated backwards. Then she stopped, struck a pose with one arm in the air and the other across her waist, and pushed off hard. When she was within a metre of the postman’s feet she stretched her arms out wide, moved her right foot in front of her left, snapped her arms against her sides, and spun so fast herhair looked like a big blonde blur.
    When Bryony finally unwound herself, the postman applauded loudly.
    â€˜You’re going to be a star, Bryony Bell, and no mistake,’ he told her admiringly, handing her back the schoolbag as though it was a gold cup.
    â€˜Thanks,’ said Bryony, giving a little bow. ‘I intend to be.’
    And she glided down the street, negotiated her way between the schoolchildren milling around outside the school gates, and made her entrance — backwards — into the playground of Peachtree Primary.

Chapter: Three
    For the rest of the week all Bryony thought about was getting home from school to try the Viper 3000s.
    Her bedroom carpet was not the best surface for skating, but even on shagpile the Vipers were wonderful. Taking care not to scuff the boots, she worked out a routine in front of the wardrobe mirror and, with one eye on her reflection, practised it to perfection. And every time she took the Vipers off and laid them back in their box, she felt a sharp pang of regret as she thought how little time she had left with them.
    On Friday morning she set off sadly for school and, as she always did, scanned the playground for the towering figure of Abid Ashraf. Abid, who was Bryony’s closest friend, was possibly the largest boy of his age anywhere in the universe. He was also one of the most solemn. This morning he looked more than usually miserable.
    â€™What’s wrong, Abid?’ Bryony asked. ‘You do look peaky.’
    Abid looked down at Bryony, his brown eyes deeply melancholic. ‘Don’t look so perky yourself, Bryony.