Fizzlebert Stump Read Online Free Page B

hours.’
    â€˜OK, dear,’ her gran shouted back. ‘Just make sure you’re up for school. I already had a letter from them. You know
I’m
the one that gets in trouble. You will go, won’t you, dear?’
    â€˜â€™Course I will, Gran,’ Piltdown shouted. ‘Dontcha trust me or somefink?’
    â€˜All right then. Night, Piltie dear.’
    â€˜Night, Gran.’
    Piltdown shut the door.
    Fizz was stood in the middle of the room, slightly dazed. Several thoughts were going through his head at the same time. Firstly, he was thinking he’d never met two people who shouted so much. Secondly, he was amazed because Piltdown had a bedroom all to herself, that wasn’t used as the kitchen-cum-living room during the day. Thirdly, he was worried about his parents. How would they be coping with him missing? He hoped they were all right. Fourthly, he was yawning. Fifthly, he thought Piltdown was a boy’s name, but didn’t say anything because whether Piltdown was a boy’s name or not, Fizzlebert was still a silly name. Sixthly … sixthly, he couldn’t remember what he was thinking. He was too tired,hence the aforementioned yawning.
    Piltdown noticed.
    â€˜Oh crikey,’ she said, whispering again. ‘You look dead on yer feet, boy. Look, you get into bed, get a few hours’ kip before morning.’
    â€˜But …’ said Fizz, tiredly.
    â€˜No buts,’ she answered firmly. ‘I’ll keep guard. Ain’t nuffink to worry about.’
    Half reluctantly, Fizz climbed on to the bed, pulled the sheet up over him, dressing gown and all, and lay his head on the slightly smelly pillow.
    â€˜I can’t keep callin’ you Boy, Boy,’ Piltdown said, switching off the light. ‘What are you called?’
    â€˜Fizzle
mumble
,’ murmured Fizz, almost asleep already.
    The next thing Fizz knew there was daylight in his eyes and the bed was bouncing up and down like a dreadfully unhappy ship in the middle of a surprisingly sunny storm.
    Morning had broken.
    And I’m breaking the chapter there too. That’s quite enough adventure for one night. What will the morning bring? Oh, mystery and romance, perhaps? Who knows. Who knows? 
I
know.

CHAPTER FOUR
    In which breakfast is burnt and in which our hero moves on
    â€˜Stop bouncing, please,’ Fizz said with a yawn to the girl who was bouncing on his bed.
    â€˜Get up then,’ she said, jumping off the bed and running out of the room.
    Fizzlebert reached down to undo the straps and buckles but, of course, there weren’t any.
    He swung his legs over the edge and said,‘Where have you gone. Piltdown?’
    â€˜I’m in the kitchen,’ she shouted.
    Fizz crossed the room and gingerly stuck his head round the bedroom door (gingerly in both senses, being at this moment both a red-headed young man and a cautious, careful one).
    â€˜Is your gran around?’ he whispered.
    â€˜Nah,’ Piltdown shouted back. ‘She’s off at work in the forest, choppin’ trees.’
    â€˜Oh?’ Fizz said.
    â€˜â€™Ow d’ya like yer toast?’ Piltdown yelled from the kitchen, a trickle of black smoke following her words through the door.
    â€˜Well done?’ Fizz said, cautiously.
    He followed the smell of burning into the kitchen.
    The clock on the wall said eight o’clock. Thatwas way earlier than he usually got up. At the circus there are a lot of late nights. There’s no going to bed until the show’s over and the audience has all left, and then there’s tidying up and taking off make-up (if you’re a clown) or singing lullabies to your horses (if you’re a horse trainer), and sometimes the Ringmaster gets everyone together to tell them how brilliant they were, or not, depending on how the show’s gone and how much his indigestion is playing up.
    Fizz stifled a yawn.
    There was a plate with a couple of