How to Survive Summer Camp (14 page)

‘Sh! Keep your voices down,
please
,’ Marzipan hissed, getting up too.

Rosemary chose a handful of chocolate drops. She gave a
pretend nibble to Dora and a real nibble to Janie. Karen sat up in bed, peering through the gloom. She watched us for a couple of minutes without saying anything and then she leant over towards Louise’s bed.

‘Are you awake?’ she whispered hopefully.

‘Mmm. We might as well join in too,’ said Louise. ‘We’ll never get any sleep with this row going on.’

She was too mean to donate any of her crystallized fruit to the feast, but she did get out the tin containing her iced cake. There wasn’t much of it left now but I suppose it was better than nothing. I’d slipped a large slab of the teatime cake up my T-shirt so I got that out too, and all my sweets and Marzipan’s chocolate and the crisps and lemonade. It was really quite a respectable feast.

‘And look what else I’ve got,’ I said, and I produced a very sticky pot of strawberry jam.

I’d taken that at teatime too and it had made a right mess of my T-shirt.

‘Stella, you are dreadful!’ said Marzipan.

‘I’ll put it back again tomorrow. I just thought a bit of jam might make this dry old cake a bit tastier, that’s all.’

I didn’t have a knife so I dug into the pot with my finger and spread the jam as best I could over the crumbly cake. Then I divided it into six and shared out all the other food too. We didn’t have a tablecloth for anything but the floor seemed perfectly clean.

‘So come on then, let’s eat!’

We sat down around the feast and felt for the food.

‘Yuck, it’s all sticky,’ said Karen.

‘I’m not hungry,’ said Louise. ‘This food is disgusting.’

I didn’t really feel hungry either but I took a big bite of cake just to show her. It felt a bit funny at first—but after a few bites my tummy woke up.

‘How weird, I’m really starving,’ I said, chomping cake for all I was worth. ‘I like this cake with jam. It’s like real jam sponge now. I wonder if I ate it with a bit of Yorkie it would taste like chocolate sponge?’ I experimented. ‘It’s lovely! You try, you lot. It’s as good as Black Forest gateau, really.’

They all tried, even Louise, and everyone agreed it was incredible. I took a handful of Janie’s salt and vinegar crisps and added them to my current mouthful.

‘And now it tastes like Black Forest gateau and chips! Utterly delicious.’

Only Rosemary believed me this time.

‘She’ll be sick, Stella,’ said Marzipan reproachfully.

‘No I won’t. It’s lovely, delicious, just like Stella says,’ Rosemary insisted, feeding the same mixture to Dora. ‘Dora likes it too. Look at her gobbling it up.’

The crisps and chocolate made me desperately thirsty. Janie and Rosemary had been sipping at their lemonade all day and it had already gone flat. I tried a couple of mouthfuls but it didn’t help.

‘I’m just nipping along to the bathroom,’ I said, getting up. ‘I’m so thirsty.’

‘You shouldn’t drink the water out of the taps, it’s bad for you,’ said Marzipan.

‘I like things that are bad for me,’ I said. ‘You are an old fusspot, Marzie-Parzie.’ I bent and tickled her. ‘Fuss, fuss, fuss,’ I said, my fingers scrabbling.

Marzipan shrieked.

‘Stop it! Stella, please stop it, I can’t stand being tickled, stop it!’ Marzipan giggled hysterically.

I tickled harder. Marzipan was sitting cross-legged. She suddenly toppled over right into the food, landing with her nose in the jammy cake crumbs. We all shrieked with laughter.

I could still hear them laughing when I was in the bathroom. And I could hear something else too. That wailing noise. It went on and on and it sounded so sad.

It was no use. I simply had to find out what it was.

I
 crept along the corridor, trying to kid myself I wasn’t scared. I could hardly see a thing. I edged along the wall, feeling my way, and then gasped. Something soft and feathery flickered across my face. I swotted at it violently and found myself holding bits of leaves. I’d been attacked by one of Miss Hamer-Cotton’s potted plants, that was all. I rather suspected I’d done it a serious damage but there wasn’t time to be bothered about it now.

I could still hear the faint wailing. It lured me onwards. I longed to go back for the others but I badly wanted to show off to Karen that I’d gone by myself.

I got to the end of the corridor and turned right. The wailing was louder now, although it stopped every now and then as if it was pausing for breath. I was pretty breathless myself and I felt horribly sick. I still had the taste of Black Forest gateau and chips in my mouth and it didn’t help at all.

I saw a light shining from under one of the doors near the end. I stood still, listening, waiting for the next wail. When it came I was certain it was coming from that room. I crept nearer until I was standing right outside. I listened so hard
my ears ached. There was someone murmuring inside and some little snuffly sounds. Then a wail and more murmurs. I couldn’t quite make out whose voice it was. I sidled right up to the door, pressing my ear against the cold wood. I pressed too hard. The door burst open and I hurtled into the room.

There was a startled yowling and scrabbling from the bed. Orange Overall was sitting there with her hair in pink plastic curlers and her eyes all peepy with fatigue. Well, actually she was Nylon Nightie tonight, hyacinth blue, with pretty pink ribbons to match her curlers. She wasn’t doing the yowling and scrabbling herself. She was holding something in her arms, wrapped in an old towel. The something was very small and soft and snuffling. It wailed pathetically, sounding panic-stricken.

‘What are you playing at, you naughty girl,’ Nylon Nightie hissed. ‘You frightened us out of our wits.’ She peeped into the towel. ‘Sh, pet, calm down now. It’s just a great silly girl. Nothing to be frightened of. There, just as I’d got you sorted out and sleepy. I don’t know.’ She patted the towel soothingly and then looked at me properly.

‘Oh my goodness, whatever have you done to yourself?’ She abandoned the towel and sprang out of bed. ‘Where does it hurt? Have you told Miss Hamer-Cotton? We’d better call the doctor quick.’

I stared at her, baffled.

‘A doctor? Why? What’s the matter?’ I stammered.

Nylon Nightie gestured dramatically at my front.

‘Look at the blood!’

I looked. It was not a pretty sight. My nightie was streaked with scarlet. I stared at it, wondering how I could be bleeding to death without it hurting—and then I wet my finger and licked the red.

‘It’s strawberry jam.’

‘Jam? How—?’

‘What’s wrapped in that towel?’ I said very quickly indeed.

I darted round Nylon Nightie and got to the bed. The towel was wriggling furiously and giving intermittent wails. I found a corner and pulled. A little red furry animal was exposed, its big brown eyes glinting, black snout quivering.

‘Oh how lovely,’ I whispered. ‘Isn’t it sweet. Is it … is it a kitten or a puppy?’

‘He’s a fox cub,’ said Nylon Nightie, and she sat on the bed and picked him up. He nuzzled into her nylon folds, his thick tail neatly wrapped round his tiny body. He wailed again, but Nylon Nightie stroked him and whispered to him soothingly until he was quiet.

‘Where did you get him?’ I said.

I decided I wanted a fox cub for a pet more than anything else in the whole world.

‘I found him out near the dustbins. I think the mother fox must have led all her cubs there. We’ve had foxes foraging around in the bins for a while. Right little nuisances they are. Did you hear that, you cheeky little chap?’ She shook her head at him fondly. ‘Anyway, this little fellow got left behind. He’d cut his paw on a tin can and couldn’t run properly. He was crying his eyes out and I couldn’t resist him. I knew he didn’t have much chance if I left him where he was. So I took him indoors and I’ve had him here with me now a couple of weeks or more. His paw’s nearly better now so I can let him go soon—and it won’t be before time. You haven’t half led me a dance, haven’t you, my boy?’ She sighed.
‘Did you hear him having a little whimper, is that why you’re here?’

‘I’ve heard him several times. I couldn’t think what it could be. What’s the matter with him? Is his paw hurting to make him wail like that?’

‘No, I think he’s fine. He just wants to be up and about. Foxes stay up all night in the wild, don’t they? This little fellow just wants to play and when I put my head down on the pillow he starts making a right fuss until I give in to him.’

‘I’ll play with him,’ I said eagerly. ‘Can I stroke him?’

‘Gently then. And mind his teeth. He can’t half nip even at this age.’

I touched his soft fur. He quivered as I gently smoothed it. I could feel his blood beating under his skin.

‘He’s so beautiful,’ I said. ‘He doesn’t mind me stroking him, does he? Imagine, I’m stroking a real live fox! Wait till I tell the others.’

‘Oh no! You’re not to tell anyone,’ said Nylon Nightie sharply. ‘It’s a secret, Stella, do you hear me? If Miss Hamer-Cotton gets to know about little Foxy here she’ll go spare. You know what she’s like about that silly Stinky-tinky cat of hers.’

I giggled.

‘If Stinkypoo caught one whiff of this little chap he wouldn’t half throw a tantrum. Miss Hamer-Cotton would get rid of Foxy before you could blink. So I’ve got to keep him secret until he’s old enough to be set free.’

‘Couldn’t I even tell my best friend Marzipan?’

‘No, I know what you kids are like. Your friend will tell someone else and soon the whole lot of you will know and then there’ll be nudges and giggles and Foxy jokes and it’ll be all round Evergreen. I’ve got my job to think of, haven’t I?’

‘I suppose so. But we wouldn’t tell, honestly.’

‘I know you wouldn’t mean to. But I still want you to keep quiet, all right? You won’t even tell your pals in your dormi?’

‘All right. I promise. I won’t breathe a word,’ I said, sighing.

It would have been so wonderful to boast about Foxy to Karen and Louise but it couldn’t be helped.

‘I’ll only have him a few days more anyway,’ said Nylon Nightie, and she reached out and patted him regretfully.

‘Can’t you keep him? Make him a proper pet?’

‘Oh no, that wouldn’t be fair. Foxes are meant to be wild. And he’s getting a right handful already. He keeps getting into scrapes.’ She gave me a funny sideways look. ‘I suppose I might as well tell you now. It was Foxy who chewed up your nice story book.’