Free Granny by Anthony Horowitz

going on vacation.”
    It was breakfast the following day and Joe had just come downstairs to find Granny tucking into a plate of eggs, bacon, sausage, tomatoes, fried bread, and black pudding. She had prepared a half grapefruit topped with a small amount of cream cheese for him.
    â€œWhere are we going?” Joe asked. He knew she was always getting his name wrong on purpose and decided not to correct her.
    â€œTo Bideford in Devonshire. It’s a delightful town. I spent many happy years there in the war.”
    â€œThe Crimean War, Granny?”
    â€œThere’s no need to be rude, dear.” Granny lashed out with a curiously powerful fist. If Joe hadn’t ducked at the last moment, she would have broken his chin. Even so, he felt the air as it punched past him. “It was the Second World War. Ah, what happy days those were. Rationing and bombs and dried eggs for breakfast. Your grandfather got blown to smithereens in the Second World War. Such happy days!”
    â€œI don’t want to go to Bideford,” Joe said, sitting on the edge of his chair in case he had to duck a second blow.
    â€œI’m sure you don’t, dear,” Granny simpered. “But you’re twelve and I’m ninety-four. So you don’t really have any choice.”
    â€œI could call Mum and Dad…”
    â€œAnd drag them all the way back from France? I don’t think they’d be very pleased. Anyway, I’ve already told them I’m taking you.” She smiled unpleasantly.
    â€œWhy are you doing this, Granny?” Joe demanded. “What do you want?”
    Granny paused with her fork inches from her mouth. Egg white dangled greasily in front of her lips. Suddenly she was innocent again. “I want to look after you,” she said. “Just like any granny would.”
    Â 
    The taxi dropped them at Paddington Station and the driver scowled as Granny counted out the fare in pennies, nickels, and quarters. It took her ten minutes to pay, by which time the driver was covered in coins.
    â€œSeven twenty,” she demanded. “There you are! That’s seven twenty-one. Keep the change!”
    Joe grabbed the suitcases and Granny grabbed Joe and together they made their way through the station concourse. As they walked, Joe saw something rather strange. A woman had gotten out of the taxi just behind them—he had noticed her out of the corner of his eye because he had thought he recognized her—and now she seemed to be following them. Nervously, he glanced over his shoulder. She was still there, her face almost completely hidden by a scarf over her mouth and a pair of dark glasses over her eyes. A lock of blond hair poked out from under a voluminous hat and she waked with a pronounced limp. Where had Joe seen her before?
    But maybe he was imagining the whole thing. For when he looked around again a few moments later, the mysterious woman had gone.
    Granny checked her ticket and pointed at a train. There was a guard standing beside it, leaning against it with one hand splayed out on the metal surface and the other hand in his pocket. The guard hadn’t shaved that morning. There was a cigarette behind his ear.
    â€œExcuse me…” Granny said.
    The guard looked at her with a syrupy smile and almost at once Joe recognized the kind of man he was. He was just like his uncle David, the kind of man who believes that all old people are like children, that they don’t understand anything except simple words spoken loudly. Joe had always hated that sort of behavior, but now his interest was aroused. How would Granny react?
    â€œYes, my love. How are you today?” The guard shouted out the words. He was leaning over Granny, nodding his head at her.
    Granny’s lips tightened. “Is this the train for Bideford?” she snapped.
    â€œNo, dear!” The guard was still shouting and he shook his head vigorously for good measure. “There’s no