Free Squishy Taylor and the Vase That Wasn't by Ailsa Wild

I slip off my shoes at the door and swing them by the laces. The foyer of our apartment building is pretty much like an ice-skating rink if your shoes are off. I launch into a massive skid to the lift, finishing in a crouch like a surfer.
    My bonus sister Vee slides her schoolbag after me and follows, stumbling over as she catches up. Her twin Jessie walks in normally behind us. I call them my bonus sisters because they were the bonus when I moved in with my dad and their mum.

    Mostly they’re an awesome bonus. Like now. Vee is lying on the floor laughing and when I try to pull her up, she just slides along on her back. It makes me laugh until I’m gasping.
    As she finally stands up, the lift slides open.
    There’s a man inside, shouting into his phone. ‘It’s gone! It’s gone!’ he says as he steps out of the lift. ‘I’ve been burgled … Yeah, exactly, or haunted! ’
    His eyes are big and he’s got a crazy half-smile on his face. ‘It just … disappeared!’ he says.
    ‘What disappeared?’ Jessie asks, sounding like a grown-up. She steps up beside us with her schoolbag neatly on her back.
    She’s the oldest, but only by forty-seven minutes. Vee is staring at the man and I’m trying not to laugh.
    ‘My vase,’ the man says into his phone. ‘My great-grandmother’s Ming Dynasty vase.’
    ‘ Stolen? ’ I ask out loud, thinking about when our next-door neighbour was burgled.
    ‘No, disappeared ,’ the man says to me, waving his phone. ‘My doors were locked. Nothing else had moved. It was like a ghost had been there.’
    He sounds weirdly excited. Then he notices his phone and puts it back to his ear. He seems to realise that he’s been talking about ghosts to three schoolkids.
    ‘Sorry, I got distracted,’ he says into his phone. ‘Yes. The police! I should go to the police.’ He stumbles through the foyer doors and out into the street.
    Jessie swipes her card and presses the lift button, while we watch the man dithering on the footpath.
    I giggle and want to keep watching, but Jessie pulls us into the lift.
    ‘I don’t know why he didn’t just phone the police,’ Jessie says.
    This is so weird . The cool kind of weird. I do the man’s crazy grin and flapping hands and say, ‘ Haunted! ’ It comes out half like the man and half like Scooby Doo.
    We laugh, collapsing against the lift wall.
    ‘You’re hilarious, Squishy,’ Jessie says.
    That’s right. My name is Squishy.
    Squishy Taylor. It’s like the gangster, Squizzy Taylor, only better.
    I love that Jessie said I was hilarious . Sometimes she just rolls her eyes when I think I’m funny. Not this time. It makes my laugh even bigger.
    We’re still laughing when the lift opens at our floor.
    Mr Hinkenbushel is standing there, waiting for the lift. He’s our next-door neighbour, the crankiest man in the universe and an undercover policeman. He winces at our noise and scowls at us. We freeze because one of the rules is that we have to be really quiet and not disturb him.
    ‘Well, hurry up and get out of the lift. What are you waiting for? Lousy kids.’
    We stumble out past him. I bump him with my bag and he growls.
    Seriously. Growls .
    And this isn’t even that bad. When he shouts, he spits .
    When the lift closes, we all breathe out and run down the corridor to our apartment.
    Jessie pushes open the door and Alice says, ‘Hi, kids,’ from where she’s typing at the kitchen table. She is working at home because it’s Tuesday.
    The twins say, ‘Hi, Mum.’
    I say, ‘Hi, Alice.’
    Alice and my dad had a Baby, so now we all live together. I used to live with my mum but she got a big job in Geneva and I decided to stay with Dad.
    Baby is sitting in the middle of the rug. Jessie’s old collection of Barbies is spread out around him. He picks up one without a head and waves her around excitedly. Then she flies out of his hand, but it takes him a moment to realise she’s gone.
    We all laugh at his surprised face and swoop down