He could do anything with this sort of money, from expensive gold paint to a countryside mansion!
All of a sudden I decided to run, back to the kitchen in case he, without warning, decided to catch me spying on him red handed. That wouldn’t be an outstanding impression to make on your first day at your guardian’s house. In a matter of seconds, I was back in the kitchen. My food was probably cold by now but it would still have to be eaten anyway. I was just about to sit down, when something cold blew on the back of my bare neck. Speedily, I twirled round to find Mr Ford looking me strait in the eye. “Funny, that, where did you think you were going?” He enquired sharply. Erm…just to the toilet, I hesitated in distress. People always told me I wasn’t a good liar; and it felt like he was reading me like a book. “You didn’t eat the pasta because it was not to your liking. You can go to bed now; I won’t give you anything else.” He ordered sternly. That was beyond a shadow of a doubt just an excuse to send me to bed without any supper. He pointed to the long flight of stairs with his finger and then swiftly walked off, leaving me helplessly, to find a room and bed for myself.
I walked over to the stairs he had pointed at and then began a lengthy climb to the top. In minutes, I had finished, and walked into the small room which was directly in front of me. It was immaculately clean but not ideal for sleeping in. What about the next room? It was melancholy but had the one vital thing he had mentioned; a bed but that was basically it, apart from a thin grey blanket lying lifelessly on top of it. I lied on the bed and covered myself with the cold blanket. It was no use. No matter what I did it wouldn’t send me to sleep. Eventually counting sheep was a success and my brain finally decided to drift off into a peaceful snooze.
The following morning I woke up to a stern voice shouting at me, “Wake up, Wake up, whichever room you’re in, breakfast’s waiting on the table! Don’t let it get cold this time!” I heard Mr Ford’s footsteps thundering back downstairs and the front door slamming shut. Was he trying to trick me to see if I would foolishly follow him without checking? His shoes and coat had definitely vanished though, so I don’t think he was conning me (not this time, anyway). I sprinted down the stairs and looked through the window, just in time to see Mr Ford crossing the road and being welcomed into a small cottage just a few blocks away. Curiosity got the better of me and I had a gut instinct to follow him. Leaving the front door open behind me, I darted down the street in bare feet and disappeared in the direction he had taken.
After crossing the road and making it safely to the other side, I walked a few blocks and scurried over to the bushes parallel to the house he had entered and used them as a hiding place. How was I going to get in to see what he was doing? There was no way I could break a door like that on my own. Unpredictably, the door swung open and out came Mr Ford, but it wasn’t just him, another man too, and another, and about three more! Each fellow was each holding a large brown bag, what could be in them? They all formed a large circle around Mr Ford as he, all of a sudden beginning to speak. “I’m gonna do it. I’ll do the deal on Sunday and send you her heart to prove it.” That was only in a week’s time! His solemn words chilled my bones. ”what do I get for doing it?” He whispered. “Look, everything’s in the bag, okay?” answered one of the men. I felt sick with worry. Who was Mr Ford going to kill? I rushed back to the house and hoped that he wouldn’t see me. I quickly flung open the door and slammed it shut behind me. My heart was pounding as loud as a rusty grandfather clock. My breakfast! I ran as fast as I could to the kitchen table and began to gobble the bowl of porridge he had left on the table. Suddenly the door pummelled shut. Mr Ford had returned. He was wearing a strange brown uniform which had some sort of medal pinned to it. Before I had a chance to look at it properly, he ran upstairs as if he didn’t want me to look. One thing I did recognise was the brown bag over his shoulder which all the men he was talking to had as well. I had to find out what was in it.
After finishing my porridge, I climbed upstairs to try and find the bag but bumped into Mr Ford on the way. “What are you doing?” He enquired. Oh, just looking for something to do. I lied. “I’ve got something to keep you busy while I do some work.” He suggested. Okay, I agreed nervously, wondering what he was talking about. Mr Ford directed me into a large, plain room which looked liked it hadn’t been walked in for years. Cob-webs were hanging on for their dear lives and a tidal wave of dust had just begun. A grey box was handed to me which had a picture of a black and white steam train in the country side printed on it. “Before you arrived here, I walked to the local shops and bought you this incase you might have liked something to do,” He explained. I couldn’t believe what my eyes were seeing! A twenty piece jigsaw was what I’ve always wanted! I exclaimed in joy. But one no one would ever be able understand was how he could be so horrible and then so nice; maybe he began to feel guilty for giving me no supper yesterday night. “You can have a go right now if you want and I’ll go down and start cooking,” Mr Ford continued.
I sat down on the floor right that second and began piecing it together. My sister’s jigsaw, which she had received on her 10th birthday had been the only other one I’d seen but there was not much to be remembered of it, since I was only 3 years old. This was the first proper jigsaw I had ever had of my own, and was going to make good use of it while possible. The brown bag! This was my perfect chance to find it! I clambered into each and every room and tried to capture it, here, there, and everywhere, but it was nowhere to be seen. As I was about to give up something brown lying at the top of a wardrobe alarmed me. Was it the bag? Just as I was going to grab hold of it, Mr Ford’s called me. Lunch must be ready.
That was quick. I raced downstairs, looking forward to what was on the table, but to my horror there was nothing. I walked around the kitchen and found Mr Ford waiting for me at the other end. “I’ve been making some phone calls lately, about you going to a new school; you will be starting Barnhill Primary at the beginning of September. I know it’s your Summer Holidays but have a rest now and then make a fresh start at school.” He sounded nicer than usual. Something was definitely up. Thank you, I acknowledged, finding my way back up the stairs into the room with the brown bag. Then I heard footsteps creeping up the stairs behind me and ran back to my jigsaw just in time. He was right behind me. “What exactly were you doing?” questioned Mr Ford, waiting for a good excuse. I just went to the bedroom to lie on the bed. Well, being a liar was coming naturally to me now. His great shiny eyes froze in still daylight as he grumbled into one of the many bedrooms in great disappointment…that was the room with the brown bag, the one which I desperately needed! All that could be done at the moment was to wait, and pray that he hasn’t moved it to some other impossible place, which no one would ever dream of finding. What was that? A loud shuffling noise alerted my ears. Out of the blue, Mr Ford came out from inside the room. His stomach seemed too grown since I last saw him…the bag! So that’s were it was! But it was not over yet. He gave me a speedy wave and then crept back into yet another room locking the door behind him. The same mysterious shuffling sound was heard once more but much louder. Within a few seconds, Mr Ford was on the right side of the door and staring into my confused eyes. He then skipped lightly down the stairs; the floor board didn’t even make one squeak, quite a difference from last time. Looking behind my shoulder on the way, I tiptoed to the room in which my guardian had last entered.
The bag, there it was, slumped behind the bed! I ran towards it, this time, determined to find what it contained...Oh my god! Stashes of money, explosive bombs, why would he do that? I didn’t know what was going on any more. A gold medal, killing people, soldiers, money, bombs, and mysterious phone calls, everything was just a big secret which I knew would be found out sooner or later.
BANG! What was that? I galloped to the window and found myself staring at a huge khaki coloured GERMAN WARPLANE, having just crashed on the other side of the road. That was so close, I couldn’t believe my luck! Even though, my gas mask was in the next bedroom. I ran downstairs and switched on the radio, waiting to listen to the news. “Good afternoon, this is Elizabeth Cheese reporting.” “Headlines today, are that a German soldier, along with a few other colleges, has just kidnapped the usual person who rings the warning siren and taken the actual siren itself. Police were informed but it was far too late. The culprits got away, still preventing the siren ringer returning home and are known to have fled to another country. Thank you for listening to the London News Headlines. Goodbye.” I switched of the radio in utter disbelief. How could someone be so cruel; now we have no chance of any survival, as if the German soldiers hadn’t caused enough damage already? Since the war begun, life was so hard, even food was difficult to buy because people were terrified to step out of their houses, especially since the warning siren had been stolen.
Mmm, smells good! I thought while walking to the kitchen for some lunch. Leek and Potato Soup, my favourite! Thank you! I called to Mr Ford, gratefully. He certainly was a good cook. Hold on…I recognised that noise, the post! I used to hear it through the letter box all the time in the London. In one last gulp, I had finished my lunch, and ran to the front door, expecting something for Mr Ford, but instead, it was for me! It read,
Dear Morgan,
I hope you are keeping well, and have not been hit by a bomb yet. My guardian, Mrs Trout was very kind and bought me a beautiful Golden Terrier Dog. I called her Morgan, so when I look at her I remember you.
Hopefully you have a lovely billet and guardian too. My billet is only a thatched roof cottage, but it is the best home I have ever had. Mrs Trout always tucks me into bed and still reads me a bed time story, even though I am too old to have one. On my arrival, she gave me a new patchwork quilt; I sometimes wonder what you have received.
Lots of love,
Anna
P.S.I hoped you wrote back; I missed you so.
A tear fell from my eye and landed on the letter. For now, I decided to run upstairs and hide letters under my bed, away from Mr Ford’s prying eyes.
The bag, I forgot all about it! Why would Mr Ford hide bombs and a stash of money in a brown bag? There had to be some way to find out.
The post, again! For the second time today! I thumped down the stairs and picked up the letter. It said, “PRIVATE & CONFIDENTIAL” printed on it, but loads of letters had that on them. It was addressed to Mr Ford, but I was sure he didn’t mind if I opened it just this once. I tore open the envelope, to find a map, with five or six places plotted on it. “BOMB HERE” it read. I fell into a deep shock. All the places shown had been planned to be bombed! But why and how would he do such a devilish thing?
I couldn’t’ even bare to think about it. My jigsaw, maybe I could finish that off. Or maybe explore round the house? Oh, it was no good changing the subject, it all boiled down to Mr Ford. Why was he involved in so much trouble? I wished I lived with another guardian. Every other child was lucky; If only I was one of them. Thinking about it made me even more envious. No matter how hard I tried, my wish had no chance of coming true.
But why waste time and make myself even more hurt? Slowly but surely, piece by piece, by the end of the day, my jigsaw was complete, matching perfectly with its identical image on the box. Just as I was about to stand back and admire my work, Mr Ford called me. “Supper’s ready! All the better, I was really hungry. The smell of fresh tomatoes wafted into my nostrils. Soup, again! But my stomach was so hungry; I managed to finish it in matter of minutes instead taking ages like my usual self.
Where was Mr Ford? I needed to thank him for making that lovely soup. Wait a second... that was the sound of a telephone number being dialled! I scurried towards the locked door where it was coming from and peered through the keyhole. Mr Ford was looking round to see if there was anyone behind him. Then he began talking in a different language. I knew he had a weird accent, but that other language was completely new to me! He suddenly whipped out an envelope (identical to the one I had found about the bombs) from his back pocket and started pointing at it. I could vaguely see a map of a place with three red dots on it. But the letter was identical to the one I opened, so the same thing would happen to it…all three places would be bombed! That would explain the bombs in the brown bag… I had to hide them before it was too late! As soon as I had found the large brown bag laying lifelessly on the top of the wardrobe where it was last left, the contents was not what I had expected it to be.
The bombs had GONE. It was too late! My brain scanned desperately for ideas. There was still time to save the town and its people, but time was running out like sand from an egg timer. I jogged down the stairs to see if Mr Ford had finished from his private phone call, being careful not to trip on one of the sharp nails in front of me. The room door was open. Where had he disappeared to now?
Just a few rooms away, I heard the front door slam shut. Someone was in the house. Whispers began to surround my body as I shivered in fear. To my relief it was only Mr Ford. “I’m just going to have a little private talk in the room.” he exclaimed. “You can go to bed now,” I knew he was not alone; he had company. My face was starting to feel extremely hot and sticky. Beads of sweat dripped from my forehead. I daren’t go upstairs to bed. Footsteps followed Mr Ford into the room, each thumped behind my back. I didn’t spin round in time. The door clinked shut and the key turned in the lock so it was tightly bolted for sure. There was no way of getting in whatsoever. All I could have done was stare through the keyhole.
Well, there wasn’t much to look at, or hear for that matter, so I slumped into bed, after a very tired day, but I just couldn’t have slept without something warm on me. My mind was quickly made up and decided to take a trip downstairs to ask Mr Ford for another blanket. He was only one room away now. I turned the door knob to find it had been unlocked, but to my horror were six other men sitting round the table, all wearing identical uniforms and badges as Mr Ford.
Then it all clicked. The jigsaw pieces slotted together. A medal, secret phone calls and letters, explosive bombs, money, murders, a different language and a weird accent. It all made sense; he was a GERMAN SPY, of course. The medal was German, the secret phone calls and letters were the German spy’s job, the explosive bombs were for him to blow the town up with, the money was for doing all these gruesome audiles, murders were to get people out the way, a different language was obviously German and lastly his weird accent which I coincidently only heard when I went on holiday to Germany, was a German accent.
But it was too late now. They knew what I was thinking. Either I would have to alert someone in time, or they would kill me. “Oi!” shouted one of the men, as he pounced onto me. I tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was way too tight. My body couldn’t bear his weight anymore. I felt a sudden crack in my arm. He had broken it, for sure. “Phone the ambulance!” called Mr Ford from the other end of the room. “Then we can get her out of our way for good!” He didn’t even feel one bit sorry for me. I heard him dial 999 on the telephone behind my head. What would a hospital be like? The only time I had been in one was when I was born. They might say something like, “how did you break your arm or did your guardian do it for you?” Hopefully it would be nothing like that at all. That was just all in my imagination. The ambulance screeched down the road to our house in no time, sirens ringing so loudly, they could have burst my ear drums. “Quick!” shouted Mr. Ford, “Go and hide yourself in the back room. Meanwhile I’ll take care of them lot.” All his colleges started squabbling between themselves, but made a quick journey to the back of the house, following one after another.
In the meantime, the ambulance was unpacking all its important equipment and making their way to the front door, where Mr Ford was standing, directing them to my body which was lying on the floor as flat as a pancake, with my arm at a funny angle. As they heaved and tried to lift me up, a current of pain shot through my left arm and sent me flying back down to the ground with a thump. Back to square one again. I nearly died of embarrassment. Then, a kind lady, who looked like she was in her mid thirties, put her arm round me and gave a warm hug. It reminded me so much of Mum, even her perfume smelt quite similar. Tears ran down the side of my cheeks as I remembered how my whole misfortune started in the first case. “Don’t worry poppet,” she began in a comforting voice. “There’s no need to cry. We’ll put you in a stretcher if it hurts that much.” The other men brought in a large piece of equipment with two long metal poles, both parallel to each other and a big piece of cloth stretching from one side to the other. I assumed that was what the kind lady was talking about. She quickly lifted me up and placed me on it.
What an earth was Mr Ford doing? To my surprise he was chatting to one of the ambulance men. I tried my best to hear what they were saying but the conversation was far away. Wait… I heard the question “How did she break it?” A shiver ran down my spine and I nearly fell of the stretcher if it wasn’t for the wall beside me. Then the man who as asking the questions spotted Mr Ford’s medal, which was neatly pinned onto his uniform. He looked at me; I knew exactly what he was thinking. The problem was, did Mr Ford?
“We better be going, then,” boomed one of the ambulance members. Quickly as they could, the team started packing up and two strong ladies carried me into the van. Looked like they never got round to the answer of “who broke my arm.” In a few minutes, I was at Wiltshire Children’s Hospital. The nurse speedily wheeled me into the Broken Limbs ward. Everywhere, there were children crying and wailing. I had a developed a bad headache as it was.
Then the nurse turned me around for some reason. “Sorry, darling, we forgot to get you checked in.” She groaned. Then, just as she was taking me back to the entrance, that man came into sight, the same one who spotted the medal, and guess what? At that split second I witnessed him dialling 999 on the telephone. For a moment in time my whole body was paralysed.
“Police please,” he continued, not noticing me. “Twenty four Sesame Street. Look, it’s urgent. I think there might be a spy living in there, and I’m fairly sure that the little sure that the little girl who lives there got a broken arm because of him. I’ll see you there. Bye,” The man quickly whispered something to the lady next to him and was out in single flash. My situation was totally helpless. I couldn’t exactly go out with a broken arm before one of the staff would notice. They had to catch him in time or otherwise he would manage to find and kill me. The nurse signed me in and wrapped a strong bandage round my arm. “Have you got any family I can call to collect you, pet?” She asked caringly. Well I’ve just got my sister, my voice replied. She seemed to look quite astonished. “Do you know her phone number? Enquired the nurse. I had learned it off by heart, 0181 442 6723.
She walked over to the telephone and dialled the number. “Hello, this is Mrs Chewit from Wiltshire Children’s hospital. Your sister has broken her arm and I’ve bandaged it up but she needs somewhere to rest. Oh, you’re her sister’s guardian? Would she be able to stay? Really? Okay, I’ll pass on the message. Thanks for your time. Bye.” I waited anxiously for the message. “You’ll be able to stay at your sister’s house. I sighed of relief. “They’ll be here in about an hour’s time. Try and have a quick nap in the meantime,” she whispered. I did as she said and tried my best to fall asleep.
“Morgan! Morgan! It’s me, Anna!” Where am I? I croaked, feeling dizzy. “Your arm broke and one of the nurses at the hospital phoned up at our house so Mrs Trout and I came and collected you in the train. We didn’t want to wake you because you were sleeping so nicely. Right now, we are at my billet. Mrs Trout said you could stay here for as long as you want.” I leapt up from the bed and flung my arms round her. She hugged me back and then took me to have my Supper with her and Mrs Trout.
“Hello, young Morgan,” spoke an old lady from one side of the table. This is Morgan, Anna’s dog, but you can share it with her if you if you like, and I’m Mrs Trout. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay at this cottage, I’m sorry it’s so small.” It’s beautiful! I complemented. My supper was laid out on the table next to Anna’s. It was bread and water, the usual sort of stuff you would eat when there was a war happening and a food crisis. I sat down and hungrily and began to eat my food. “Your appetite’s grown!” said my sister. She always did say I needed to eat more. Soon, everyone had finished eating and I was lead into the sitting room. It was ice cold so Mrs Trout lighted a blazing log fire so eventually we were all warm. I glanced at the clock which read quarter past nine. If Mr Ford was still living with me, it would be bedtime ages ago.
“Let’s switch on the radio, and listen to the headlines, maybe it’ll be something important.” suggested Mrs Trout. She brought the radio in to the room and plugged into the socket which was in the wall. We were just in time. Good evening, this is Elizabeth cheese reporting. Headlines today are that Mr Fritz, a German spy, going by the name of Mr Ford, was found to be living at Twenty Four Sesame Street along with other six colleagues. Fortunately the police were informed by Daniel Davies, a member of an Ambulance crew which came to collect a girl which Mr Ford had harmed, in order to stop his secret going public. As Daniel was asking the spy questions, he managed to spot, and very cleverly recognise the German Medal which was pinned onto his chest. Daniel quickly phoned the police from Wiltshire Children’s Hospital and they caught the culprits in the act. The court judge has sentenced them to life imprisonment. That’s all for tonight, thank you for listening to the London News. Goodbye.
We all cheered and gave each other a huge hug. Now you’re safe! cried Mrs Trout. “Do you know that you can stay with us for ever?” She continued. I would love too! I replied contently. “This deserves a celebration!” exclaimed Anna. She rushed into the kitchen and was back in a few minutes. “Anyone for a slice of toast?” She started. You bet! I replied, and with that, I picked up a slice, remembering everyone in the City who was constantly being bombed; all the people children who were less fortunate than me and how that was the worst and the best week of my life.
