MY NOVEL

Illustration for my next novel - that is, of course, after I've sold this first one! I love this drawing. It's by my brilliant brother, Jeremy Heath! Contact: jerry@haljmar.demon.co.uk

OFF WITH HER LEGS!

An action adventure story for 8-12 year olds

Oops!

Sorry, but it transpires that if I post my work on the internet, many agents consider it ‘published’. However good it may be, some agents will not touch it. (I have this information from several excellent sources). So I've removed the first few chapters.

Total bummer.

I’ll just post a tiny chunk of chapter one. A taster. I'm sure that can’t dent my chances, eh?

Guess you'll have to wait till I'm published.

Ho hum.

OFF WITH HER LEGS

CHAPTER ONE

1962

KIDNAPPED!

Muriel Trump almost peed her pants as she ran through the garden gate. Breathless with excitement, she scurried up the icy path, flung open the porch door and shouted, ‘Dad. Dad, where are you? It’s happened again. Another kid’s gone missing!’ She stamped her boots on the mat to get rid of the excess snow and wriggled out of her wet coat. ‘They reckon some psycho-bloke’s been taking ‘em. Last night it was.’  

          Sitting on the cold stone floor, Muriel tugged off her boots and continued shouting through to the kitchen. ‘Mr Lockwood told us in assembly. He said we mustn’t go round the village on our own. Only in twos. And you know Olivia Carter-Brown? Dad?’ Can you hear me?’

          Her father didn’t answer. Gloria guessed he was too busy faffing over the shepherds pie he’d promised to make for tea. ‘You do know Olivia. She’s the one you said had some shocking acne. That stuck-up one in year six with the white fur coat and the ponies. Well, she said I didn’t have to worry, ‘cause no one would wanna kidnap me ‘cause I’m too fat. It puts ‘em off, apparently.’

          Gloria usually hung her satchel and coat on the coat stand, but for some strange reason it was nowhere to be seen. ‘Dad, what’s happened out here?’ she shouted. ‘Where’s all our stuff gone?’ She peeled off her damp socks and tossed them in the corner. They landed in a ring of dust where the lampstand once stood. The rocking chair and the little bamboo cupboard where she kept her rabbit food were also missing. In fact, the only thing left in the porch, much to Gloria’s relief, was her battered old rabbit hutch.

          ‘You okay baby?’ she whispered, peering through the wire mesh. Her pet rabbit, Boris, lay curled up asleep in a nest of prickly straw.

           ‘Dad, what are you like? You forgot to feed Boris,’ she shouted. ‘And there’s no water in his bowl. I told you to water him. Dad. Daaaaaad? Are you deaf or what?  And don’t pretend you can’t hear me. I’m really cross with you. Mum would never have forgot.’

          Gloria reminded herself it was best not to think about her mother. She’d only upset herself again. Reaching for a better-feeling thought, she flipped the catch on the cage door and scooped out her enormous white rabbit.

          ‘Ah, poor baby, you must be starving. Come on, let’s go and see Mr Forgetful Pants. We’ll give him a good telling off, yeah?’

          With Boris cradled in her arms, Gloria marched up the hallway and pushed open the kitchen door. ‘Honestly dad, I can’t believe . . . Oh - my - God!’

          The kitchen, like the porch, was completely empty. Stripped naked. Table, chairs, cooker, fridge, they’d all vanished. Even the scabby old lino had disappeared. The bare floorboards were splattered in pink sticky liquid and shards of broken glass. Slap bang in the middle of the mess lay her father’s house keys. As she stooped to pick them up, the sound of someone laughing made her jump. She spun round. Two shadowy figures stood behind the frosted glass of the back door.

          ‘Dad?’

          The moment she spoke, the back door creaked opened. In walked an ugly, short, fat man. A balding gent with sticky-out ears and a face as round as a full moon. He grinned, nodding nervously as he eyed Gloria up and down. ‘Don’t be frightened,’ he said, in a creepy whisper. ‘I don’t bite.’ He shuffled toward her, still grinning, and offered his hand.

          ‘Wait-wait-wait, who are you?’ said Gloria, backing away. ‘Where’s my dad? Why’s his medicine all over the floor?’

          The man gave no answer, only nodded and grinned, showing two rows of uncommonly tiny teeth. He fumbled in his trouser pocket, pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his sweaty face. ‘You must be Gloria,’ he said, offering his hand again. ‘Grownup shake? No? Fair do’s. Fair do’s. Can’t be too careful these days, eh?’ He chuckled again, as if they’d known each other for years and had just shared an intimate joke.  

          Gloria snatched a shard of broken glass off the floor and pointed it at the man. ‘Don’t you come near me. I . . . I mean it. Stay where you are.’

          ‘My name is Mr Leaky,’ he said, lisping on the “mister.” ‘Norman Leaky. I’m from social services, and . . . oh careful. ’ He pointed to the broken glass at Gloria’s bare feet. ‘Do you have a dustpan and brush?’ he said, picking a spike of glass off the floor and placing it on the mantelpiece. ‘Don’t want you cutting your little feet, do we?’

          ‘Never mind my little feet,’ said Gloria. ‘Where’s my dad? And who are you? Coming in here like you own the bloody place.’

          Norman Leaky raised his bushy eyebrows. ‘I think we can probably do without the swearing, Gloria. I know you’re upset, but …’

          ‘I said where is he? Where’s all our stuff gone?’

          ‘Now let’s just calm down shall we?’ Mr Leaky picked the keys off the floor, wiped them on his handkerchief and popped them in the pocket of his baggy cardigan.

          ‘Oi, you gimme them keys. They’re not yours.’

          ‘Shhh-shhh-shhh, listen, listen to me,’ said Mrs Leaky, ignoring Gloria’s request. ‘I’m afraid your furniture has been removed by the bailiffs. Susie said they came early this morning. Nice little lady, young Susie. You’ll approve, I’m sure. She’s not at all butch and scary, like some of them.’

          Gloria stared at the grinning stranger in disbelief. Was he taking the micky, or was that lisp for real? ‘Susie?’ she said. ‘Who the hell’s Susie? And what’s bailiffs? They can’t just take all our stuff.’

          ‘Oh, my dear, I’m afraid they can, and they jolly well have. Apparently, your father’s not paid the rent for months. Naughty, naughty, eh?’ Mr Leaky slid the remainder of broken glass to the side of the room with his foot. White socks and sandals seemed to Gloria the stupidest fashion for mid-winter.

          ‘Yes,’ he lisped, ‘the landlord has filed for eviction. I’m afraid he wants you out. Out, out, out – today. Nothing to be done. It’s all quite legal.’

          Gloria stood in stunned silence. She stroked the patch of sticky-up fur between Boris’s ears, straining her brain wondering what to do next. None of it made any sense. She heaved Boris onto her shoulders. He lay draped around her neck, legs dangling like a fat furry collar. ‘Don’t worry, baby,’ she whispered. ‘dad’ll be back soon.’

          ‘I wouldn’t be too sure about that if I were you. Now Gloria . . . ’

          ‘I need to feed my rabbit. He’s starving.’

          ‘Starving? Goodness me, I hardly think so. Look at the size of him. Tubby little jumbo. You’re a tubby little jumbo, aren’t you?’ he chuckled, tickling Boris under the chin. Gloria was sure what he really meant was she was a tubby little jumbo.

          ‘Don’t touch him. I need to feed him.’

          ‘No Gloria, what you need is to be very brave and very grown up.’ Mr Leaky pulled a ridiculously sad face and attempted to sound concerned. His fakery didn’t fool Gloria one bit. ‘I’m afraid . . . oh dear, you poor child. I . . . I’m afraid your father has been arrested.’

          ‘Arrested? Are you having a laugh? What the hell would he be arrested for?’

          ‘And we don’t say hell. It’s not very ladylike.’

          ‘Stuff ladylike. Is everyone round hear deaf or what? I said, what’s he been arrested for?’

          Up went the eyebrows. Mr Leaky stared wide eyed and blinking, pretending to be offended by Gloria’s rudeness. All traces of kindness and sympathy vanished. ‘Hmmm, well I suppose you’ll find out sooner or later. Kidnapping,’ he said coldly. ‘They’re probably questioning him as we speak. It’s about those missing kiddies.’