Free How Kirsty Jenkins Stole the Elephant by Elen Caldecott

bed, the phone was history. Kirsty smiled again, the tears all gone.

    â€˜I’m just calling you so I can look at the phone,’ Kirsty said.
    â€˜What?’ Ben answered.
    â€˜I just need to look at it. What do you think the screw does on the bit you hold?’
    â€˜I dunno. What are you going on about?’
    â€˜I bet it’s important. They don’t put screws in if they’re not important do they?’
    â€˜Kirsty. This is the weirdest phone call I’ve ever had.’
    â€˜Good. I’ll see you tomorrow. We have to talk.’ Kirsty hung up

    It was easy to stay awake that night. It was easy to wait for proper, silent and still darkness. At midnight, Kirsty got out of bed slowly, so it wouldn’t creak. She reached for the screwdriver she had hidden under the bed. Got it. She crept out of the room into the dark hall. The James Bond music started in her head – dum di-di dum, dum; dum, di-di dum, dum. She pressed her back to the wall, listening for other secret agents. There was silence, but there was no knowing how many booby traps were laid for her. Each step was careful and precise. She was grateful now for the special stealth catsuit M had given her back at the lab; she would only show up as a strange bit of distortion on the security feeds. Good job too that the screwdriver could shoot tranquiliser darts.
    Down the stairs, into the hall. Still total silence. A sliver of light came in through the window in the front door. This was too easy. There should at least have been guard dogs. She reached the phone and lifted the receiver. The burr of the dial tone sounded loud in the hallway. Her heart rate picked up. Enemy forces might be alerted any second. She worked quickly. Soon the screw was out and the phone fell open in her hands. Inside the receiver there was a jumble of wires and two small disks about the size of a fifty pence piece. They looked important. Kirsty was sure the phone wouldn’t work without them. It took just a few seconds for her to pop out the connecting wire and the disks came free. She fitted the phone back together and tightened the screw. Mission accomplished.
    She was back in her room in an instant – no alarms sounded, no warning shots were fired. And the phone was out of commission.

Friday

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    Chapter 22
    After school, Kirsty came home to find Mum in the front garden. She was wrapped up in Dad’s big winter coat, watching the birds.
    â€˜Hi, Mum.’
    â€˜Hello, love. Nice day?’ Mum sounded distracted, as though she wasn’t thinking about Kirsty at all.
    â€˜I suppose. You?’
    â€˜I suppose. The phone’s broken. I asked your dad to mend it, but . . .’ She pulled the edges of the coat tighter around herself. ‘At least Dad’s customers can’t get through. Honestly, some of them, it’s like kitchen cabinets are a matter of life or death.’
    â€˜Mum,’ Kirsty said slowly. ‘Is everything OK?’
    Kirsty looked at Mum square on, their eyes locking for a second. Kirsty wasn’t sure what she saw in Mum’s eyes. Sadness, worry, anger? It was like a mix of all of them. Then it was gone.
    â€˜Of course it is, love. I think I’ll have to get an engineer for that dratted phone.’ Mum looked at the birds again. ‘They’ll be making their nests before long,’ she said. ‘Go on indoors. Your brother and sister will be here soon.’
    â€˜Half—,’ Kirsty stopped. She was going to say half-sister, but she didn’t quite want to. She smiled a little at herself, then went inside.

    Ben and Dawn arrived just before tea. There was no time to talk. Kirsty was desperate to tell them just what had been happening, but Mum was there all the time. Kirsty forced down her baked potato as fast as she could. When the meal was over she grabbed Ben’s arm and pulled him out of his chair. ‘We’ll wash up,’ Kirsty said. ‘And Dawn can