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

on him.
    ‘Baby-Baby-Baby,’ Vee says in a gooey growl , sprawling down onto her stomach beside him and mushing her nose into his big cheek.
    I drop my bag and do a commando roll over the couch, stopping just short of his feet. ‘ You big, big fatty-boombah ,’ I say, jiggling his round legs. He’s so fat he’s got creases at his ankles .

    Jessie has nuzzled in from the other side and Baby squeals and giggles and flaps his arms around.
    ‘Can we have toast on the balcony?’ Jessie asks.
    It’s a treat, because the balcony door is in Alice and Dad’s room, and they keep it for special. We’re allowed free rein in the rest of our little apartment, but their bedroom is for them and Baby, and the balcony is grown-ups only.
    ‘Yep, OK. Fine,’ Alice says. ‘Just don’t talk to me for another fifteen minutes.’ Her nose is about ten centimetres from her computer screen and she hasn’t stopped typing.
    ‘Yay!’ Vee says, kicking my bag out of the way and going for the toaster.
    ‘Hey, Alice,’ I say, sliding Baby some more Barbies with my foot, ‘you should have seen the guy in the foyer –’ Jessie and I start giggling.
    But Alice doesn’t want to know. ‘Squishy, I said, don’t talk to me.’
    Even my bonus mum calls me Squishy. My real name is Sita, after my grandma, but people only call me that when I’m in serious trouble.
    Vee hasn’t given up on our story. ‘But the guy in the foyer –’
    ‘Do you want to have your toast on the balcony or not?’ Alice asks, actually looking up from her screen.
    ‘Balcony!’ we say in unison, and I get out the butter and Vegemite, silent as a ninja .
    When we work as a team, the three of us are fast .
    As soon as we’re on the balcony, we see Haunted Guy hurrying back up the street with Mr Hinkenbushel beside him.
    ‘I guess Haunted Guy found the police station,’ I say, with my mouth full of Vegemite toast.
    I lean my elbows on the balcony and look down. My curls get in my mouth with my next bite of toast. I try to spit my hair out and the chewed toast goes too. It tumbles down through the air, past all the other balconies. I laugh and a few more bits fall out. Luckily they don’t hit Mr Hinkenbushel.
    Five minutes later, we hear Haunted Guy’s voice. He’s on the balcony just above us.

‘Yes, all the locks!’ Haunted Guy says. ‘ Everything was locked! ’ He sounds almost upset, but mostly like I would feel – like he’s having an adventure .
    We hear Mr Hinkenbushel’s familiar cranky voice.
    ‘Absurd … security cameras … ridiculous to say it just disappeared.’
    The talking drops to mutters so we can’t hear words anymore.
    Jessie whispers, ‘What are they saying?’
    I don’t know. I really want to hear. I put my finger to my lips and climb, as quietly as I can, onto the balcony table. Jessie looks a bit nervous, but I don’t care. I stretch my neck, trying to hear.
    Haunted Guy’s voice is quiet, but I catch a few words. ‘No, nothing else moved. Only the vase.’
    Then more murmurings.
    I feel the table wobble and realise Vee is climbing up beside me. She’s pointing, showing me the long beams holding the balcony over our heads. If I push up to my tippiest tiptoes , I can get my hands halfway around a beam. It’s not exactly like monkey bars, but near enough.

    Jessie is shaking her head, eyes wide, but Vee offers me a step with both hands. I haul myself up with my biceps, like a chin-up, with Vee’s hands helping.
    From here, I can hear Haunted Guy better. He’s saying, ‘I’ll have to call my sister. It was Ming Dynasty . Absolutely priceless. Acquired in the Opium Wars … disappeared … spirited away. I was only gone one night.’
    A door clicks. They’ve gone inside. Ming Dynasty. Opium Wars. What does it mean? I look down at Jessie, then past Jessie to the street, eleven storeys below.
    I suddenly realise how close I am to the edge of the balcony. And that once you’re standing on the table, there’s no rail