Free Big Change for Stuart by Lissa Evans Page A

voice sound firm and certain. ‘Hang
on
. Even if there
is
a will – and I still don’t understand how your grandma could possibly have known that – and even if I could find it, I don’t want to sell the tricks. If I can actually prove they’re mine, then I want to keep them.’
    â€˜
Fine words
.’
    â€˜But I really mean it.’
    â€˜
I see
.’ The speaker coughed again – a dry, jagged sound. ‘
You know, there’s something particular about me that you don’t know
,’ she said.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜
I’m rich. Very, very rich. I am Rich with a great big golden capital R. My gramma was a businesswoman, the smartest you could ever meet. She left England with ten pounds in her pocket and a headful of ideas, and she set up a factory here in Canada and made more money than you would ever believe. It’s all mine now. I’m the last one left, and I can give away as much of it as I like. Do you know what it means to be rich?
’
    â€˜No,’ said Stuart.
    â€˜
It means you can get anything you want. What do you want, Stuart?
’
    Stuart hesitated. ‘Nothing that I can buy,’ he said.
    â€˜
Now that’s an interesting kind of answer. Let me see if I can guess what you mean … Maxwell Lacey tells me that you’re new in town and you’re just a little fella – smaller than the other kids. Must be hard, especially when you’re starting at a new school in a couple of weeks’ time. Kids can be cruel, especially kids you haven’t grown up with, and if you’ve got a name like S. Horten, then you’re going to get a nickname real quick. Am I right?
’
    Stuart said nothing but he could feel his face grow hot. He thought of all the times in his life he’d been called Shorty Shorten. The phone was sticky in his grasp. Miss Edie’s voice continued, crackly and compelling.
    â€˜
Money sure can’t buy you height but it can buy you power. The best bike in town, the best computer, the best sneakers, the best parties, the best holidays – you ever been to Disneyland?
’
    â€˜No,’ muttered Stuart, his voice hoarse.
    â€˜
You could take the whole class. Wouldn’t matter how tall you are then, they’d respect the hell out of you. Take the whole class, except anyone who’s mean to you. Buy a Rolls-Royce and a chauffeur to carry you to school, and only give lifts to the kids you like. Buy a house with a swimming pool in the back garden, and see how nice everyone is to you then. Friendship’s like any other commodity, Stuart – you can buy it if you have enough money
…’
    Stuart’s chest was thudding as if someone inside it were banging a drum.
    â€˜
You still there?
’ asked Miss Edie.
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜
You have a real think about what I said. Find that will and I can make your dreams come true. They won’t call you the shortest kid in class any more – they’ll call you the richest
…’
    â€˜But—’
    Before Stuart could say any more, the line went dead.

HE STOOD STARING at the silent receiver, and then something tugged insistently at the back of his mind, and he fetched the tin money box in which he kept his most treasured possessions, and took out Great-Uncle Tony’s note.

    â€˜Lead you to my will,’ said Stuart quietly.
    So that was it, then – the letters were clues that would lead him to his great-uncle’s will, and when he found it, he would have a choice.
    For a strange moment he felt as if he were standing on a bridge over a dark, rushing river. On one side of the bridge was a feast of magic: Great-Uncle Tony’s illusions, and the bizarre adventures that Stuart and April were finding within them. On the other side was a world of money, glittering with all the things that Stuart could buy, if only he were rich. He stood poised in the centre of the bridge, like an iron filing