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  Bertie was certain they hadn’t. They wouldn’t be seen dead in a custard-yellow jumper with skipping lambs on the front.

  “Well, it’s very kind of you, Gran,” said Mum.

  “Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” laughed Gran. “I love knitting. I could knit one for you if you like, Suzy?”

  “Yes! Great idea!” cried Bertie.

  “Oh no, that’s okay, Gran,” said Suzy quickly. “Wool makes me itchy. But I’m looking forward to Bertie wearing his new jumper to school.”

  Bertie scowled. There was no way he was wearing the knitted horror to school. His friends would never stop laughing. Miss Boot would probably make him stand up in assembly to show the whole school! No, there was only one thing for it – he’d have to hide the jumper somewhere no one could find it.

  The next morning, Bertie got dressed for school. He pulled on his pants, jeans and T-shirt. He opened the bottom drawer where he kept all his jumpers.

  HELP! Where had they all gone? The drawer was empty! He rushed downstairs in a panic.

  “Mum, where are all my jumpers?” he asked.

  “Oh, they were dirty, so I put them in the wash,” said Mum with a knowing smile.

  “ALL of them?” cried Bertie. “But what am I going to wear to school?”

  “Your new jumper of course,” said Mum. “I found it under your bed. I can’t think how it got there.”

  “I can’t wear that!” moaned Bertie. “It’s too big! It looks like a dress!”

  “Don’t be silly,” said Mum. “Anyway, you promised Gran you’d wear it today.”

  Bertie didn’t remember promising anything. This was so unfair!

  He thumped back upstairs. It was a plot. His mum had washed all his other jumpers on purpose.

  Five minutes later he was back. Mum looked up.

  “Bertie!” she said. “You can’t go to school in just a T-shirt.”

  “Why not?” asked Bertie.

  “Because it’s winter, you’ll freeze to death!” said Mum.

  “I can run around!” said Bertie. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m not arguing with you,” said Mum. “You’re wearing the nice jumper Gran knitted and that’s the end of it. Go and put it on.”

  Bertie trailed down the road to school. He was wearing the knitted horror but at least nobody could see it. He had his coat zipped up to his neck.

  Eugene and Darren were waiting on the corner as usual.

  “Hi, Bertie!” said Eugene. “What’s that yellow thing?”

  Bertie looked down. Help! The jumper was so long it was sticking out below his coat! He tried to tuck it in.

  “Are you wearing a nappy?” asked Darren.

  “Very funny,” said Bertie. “If you must know it’s a jumper my gran knitted.”

  “Oh! A Granny jumper!” Darren smiled.

  “Well, let’s see it then,” said Eugene.

  “Yes, show us,” urged Darren. “We won’t laugh, will we, Eugene?”

  Bertie sighed and fingered the zip on his coat. Should he? No, he couldn’t face it.

  “Is that the time? We’ll be late for school,” he said, hurrying on.

  The others raced after him.

  “Come on, Bertie, you can’t keep your coat on all day!” said Darren.

  Oh no? You just watch me, thought Bertie.

  In the playground, Bertie stood with his friends, keeping his coat firmly zipped up. When the bell went they all filed into school. Bertie’s classmates hung up their coats. Bertie kept his on. He sneaked into class and sat down at the back. Miss Boot was taking the register.

  “Donna?” she boomed.

  “Yes, Miss!”

  “Nicholas?”

  “Here, Miss Boot!”

  “BERTIE?” Miss Boot looked up. “Bertie, why are you still wearing your coat?”

  Bertie turned pink. “The zip’s stuck!” he said.

  “Don’t talk nonsense,” barked Miss Boot. “Take it off!”

  “I can’t! It won’t budge!” wailed Bertie, pretending to tug at the zip.

  Miss Boot sighed. She marched over, grabbed the zip and yanked it down.

  “There!”

  By now the class had all turned round to stare. Bertie gulped and slipped off his coat. His classmates giggled.

  “Ooh, nice jumper, Bertie!” jeered Royston.

  “Ahh, it’s so cute!” smirked Know-All Nick. “Look at the lickle lambies!”

  Bertie glared at them. “If you must know, my gran knitted it,” he said.

  Miss Boot’s mouth twitched.

  “Don’t listen to them, Bertie,” she said. “I think it’s very er … colourful.”

  This set off new waves of giggles. Bertie turned pink and slumped back in his seat. This was worse than the time he had to wear a kilt for his cousin’s wedding. There was only one way to put an end to it – the knitted horror would have to go. But how could he get rid of it? Suddenly it came to him. It was Thursday – they went swimming on Thursday… What better place to lose a jumper than at the swimming baths?

  The coach pulled into the car park and everyone trooped off. Darren put on his swimming goggles.

  “Your jumper’s so bright it’s hurting my eyes,” he explained.

  “Very funny,” scowled Bertie. “Anyway, I won’t be wearing it much longer.”

  “Oh, why’s that then?” asked Eugene.

  “Yes, why is that?” sneered a voice. It was Know-All Nick, his old enemy.

  “Mind your own business, big nose,” said Bertie.

  Bertie waited until the swimming lesson was over. Now was his chance. He grabbed his clothes and slammed the locker door shut, leaving the knitted horror inside. By the time anyone found it he’d be gone. He looked around. Only Know-All Nick was about, combing his hair in a mirror.

  “All right, Bertie?” he smiled slyly. “Sure you’ve got everything?”

  “Yes thanks,” said Bertie.

  Once he was dressed, he hurried to the coach and found a seat. He’d done it. Goodbye, knitted horror! he thought. I won’t be seeing you again!

  Mr Weakly climbed on to the coach with Know-All Nick. Bertie stared in disbelief. The teacher had something in his hand – a custard-yellow jumper.

  “Has … ah … anyone lost a jumper?” he asked, holding it up.

  Bertie slid down in his seat.

  “Please, sir, I think it’s Bertie’s,” Nick bleated. “He’s always losing things!”

  “Bertie, is this yours?” asked Mr Weakly.

  “Oh yes, it’s definitely his,” said Darren.

  “It’s his favourite,” added Eugene.

  Bertie glared at them. So much for friends!

  “Well, you better look after it,” said Mr Weakly. “You’re lucky that Nicholas found it. Aren’t you going to thank him?”

  Bertie ground his teeth.

  “Thanks a lot, Nickerless,” he said.

  “That’s all right,” smirked Nick. “I’d hate you to lose your lovely new jumper. I’ll have to keep an eye on it for you!”

  The coach set off. Bertie glared at the jumper in his lap. Trust Know-All Nick to ruin everything, he thought. Why couldn’t he mind his own business?

  “Nice try, Bertie. Better luck next time,” grinned Darren.

  “It’s all right for you,” grumbled Bertie. “You don’t have to wear it.”

  “It’s not that bad,” said Darren.

  “All right, why don’t we swap?” suggested Bertie. “I’ll wear your jumper.”

  “No way!” snorted Darren. “I’m not wearing that thing.”

  Bertie stared out of the window. There had to be some way to get rid of the knitted horror. Suddenly it came to him. It was simple – all he had to do was leave it on the coach when he got off.

  Ten minutes later, the coach pulled up outside the school. Bertie bent down and quickly stuffed the jumper under his seat. He joined the queue, anxious to get off. Once the coach drove away he’d be home and dry, free at last! He jumped down the steps and hurried to the gates.

  “OH, BERTIE!” sang a voice behind him. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  Bertie swung round. His heart sunk. Know-All Nick was waving the dreaded jumper in the air.

  “Noooo!” moaned Bertie. Was he never going to get rid of it!

  For the rest of the day Bertie put up with all the funny comments about his jumper.

  “HA HA! Look at Bertie!”

  “Did you knit that yourself?”

  “Is it a jumper or a dress?”

  Bertie tried everything to get rid of it. He left it in the cloakroom, the toilets and even in the lost property box. But the jumper always came back like a boomerang. Know-All Nick made it his personal mission to make sure he found it. In desperation, Bertie tried to throw the jumper into a tree, but he missed and it flopped down, landing on Miss Boot’s head.

  At the end of the day Bertie plodded home with his friends.

  “Cheer up, Bertie,” said Eugene. “I bet everyone will have forgotten it by tomorrow.”

  “Not if my mum makes me wear it again,” moaned Bertie. “It’s so big I’ll still be wearing it when I’m eighteen!”

  “Hey, Bertie, catch!”

  A ball whizzed past his head, bounced off a lamppost and shot over a fence.

  Darren threw up his hands. “That’s my super bouncy ball! Why didn’t you catch it?” he grumbled.

  “It’s not my fault,” replied Bertie. “I wasn’t even looking!”

  They peered over a tall wooden fence into a front garden. The ball lay in the middle of the lawn.

  “We could climb over and get it,” suggested Eugene.

  “Darren could,” said Bertie. “It’s his ball.”

  “I’m not going! You’re the one
who lost it,” argued Darren.

  Bertie sighed and took off his coat.

  Darren gave him a leg up and helped him climb over the fence. Getting the ball was the easy part – getting back proved more difficult. Bertie had to jump and hang on while trying to haul himself up. Eventually he managed to get one leg over the fence. That was when something got caught.

  “AAARGH! I’m stuck!” he wailed.

  “Hurry up, I think someone’s coming!” warned Eugene.

  Bertie gave one last tug and managed to pull himself free. He jumped down, almost landing on top of Darren.

  Eugene pointed. “Oh no, look what you’ve done!”

  Bertie looked down. A thread of wool hung loose from the bottom of his jumper. It must have caught on the fence! He shrugged his shoulders. It was too late to do anything about it now.

  Back home, Bertie walked in and dumped his coat on the floor. His mum was in the kitchen having tea with Gran.

  “Here he is!” cried Gran. “And look, he’s wearing his lovely new— Oh dear!”

  She broke off. Mum raised a hand to her head.

  “What?” said Bertie. “What’s wrong?”

  Looking down, he saw that the knitted jumper had shrunk. In fact most of the bottom half was gone, leaving only the lambs’ jolly faces. A long thread of wool led back down the hallway and out of the door. It must have unravelled on the way home!

  “Oops! Sorry, Gran,” mumbled Bertie.

  Mum shook her head in despair. “Really, how do you manage it, Bertie? You only wore it for one day!”

  One day was quite enough, thought Bertie. He tried to look sorry but inside he felt like dancing. Yahoo! He’d got rid of it! He’d never have to wear the knitted horror again!

  “Oh well, these things happen,” sighed Gran. “Luckily for you I’ve just seen the perfect thing in my magazine – a rainbow jumper with darling little bunnies.”

  Bertie turned pale.

  “Aww! I’m sure he’ll love it,” cooed Mum. “What do you say to Gran, Bertie?”

  Bertie and his friends were on the way back from their Saturday trip to the sweet shop.

  “You won’t believe what my dad’s just bought,” said Eugene.

  “A speed boat,” said Bertie.

  “Even better than that,” said Eugene. “A metal detector!”

  Bertie and Darren stared.

  “A metal detective?” said Darren.

  “No, a detector,” repeated Eugene. “It’s a machine which finds stuff buried in the ground.”

  “Like dead bodies, you mean?” said Bertie.

  “No! Metal stuff like spoons or rings,” explained Eugene. “If you’re really lucky you might even find gold!”

  “GOLD?” Bertie almost choked on his jelly snake.

  “Well, obviously not all the time,” admitted Eugene. “So far we’ve only found a sardine tin and an old dog tag. But my dad says a man once dug up treasure worth millions. It was sitting in a field for hundreds of years and nobody knew.”

  Bertie’s eyes shone. This was fantastic! He’d always dreamed of finding buried treasure and here was his big chance!

  “Well, what are we waiting for?” he cried.

  “You think there’s gold buried round here?” asked Darren.

  “I don’t see why not, there are loads of fields,” replied Bertie. “And if we’ve got your detective machine we’re bound to find it.”

  “It’s not mine though, it’s my dad’s,” Eugene reminded them. “And he doesn’t like me using it without him.”

  “But we only need it for a few hours,” said Bertie.

  “Yes, and you don’t have to tell him we borrowed it,” said Darren.

  “Hmm,” said Eugene doubtfully. “Well, I suppose not.”

  They waited while Eugene ran home to fetch the metal detector. Bertie couldn’t think why his parents hadn’t bought their own machine. Didn’t they know you could find actual GOLD buried in the ground?

  Soon Eugene was back. The metal detector looked like a space-age walking stick. It had a metal ring at one end, and a screen with a dial.

  “That’s it?” said Bertie.

  “I thought it would be more like a giant digger,” said Darren.

  Eugene looked anxious. “I have to get it back by this afternoon,” he warned. “If my dad finds out we’ve borrowed it, he’ll go up the wall.”

  “That gives us plenty of time,” said Bertie. “Let’s try it in my back garden.”

  Bertie’s mum was working at the kitchen table.

  “Hello,” she said. “And where are you three off to?”

  “Just to play in the garden,” answered Bertie. “We’re hunting for buried treasure.”

  “Oh, I see,” smiled Mum. “And what’s that you’ve got, Eugene?”

  “It’s a metal detector – we’re, er … borrowing it from my dad,” said Eugene.

  “It’ll show us if there’s gold in the back garden,” explained Bertie.

  Mum raised her eyebrows. “Well, good luck with that,” she said. “Just make sure you don’t tread on any of my plants.”

  “We won’t!” Bertie promised.

  He hurried outside. Who cared about a few droopy old plants? If they found gold they’d be able to buy a palace with its own garden, swimming pool and even a helicopter pad!

  The treasure hunters decided to start on the back lawn.

  “I should go first, because it’s my garden,” said Bertie.

  “Yes, but it’s my metal detector,” argued Eugene.

  “What about me? When do I get a turn?” grumbled Darren.

  In the end Eugene went first as he was the only one who knew how to make the metal detector work. Bertie thought it looked pretty simple – you just pointed it at the ground and if it beeped and went crazy you’d found gold.

  Eugene clicked a button and moved the metal ring from side to side as the machine hummed and ticked.

  “Anything?” asked Bertie.

  “Give me a chance,” said Eugene. “If it finds anything it makes a noise and the needle on the dial jumps about.”

  Bertie moved in closer, watching the needle for the faintest movement. They reached the bottom of the lawn without a beep from the machine then turned around.

  “Let me try,” said Bertie, grabbing it. “Maybe you’re not doing it right.”

  “I am!” said Eugene. “You just have to give it time.”

  Bertie strode up the lawn, waving the detector around like a magic wand.

  “You’re doing it too fast!” cried Eugene. “You have to take it—”

  BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

  Bertie stopped dead. The needle had shot up the dial. This was it! They’d found gold!

  “Quick, get a spade!” he cried.

  Darren found a spade in the shed and started to dig.

  “WAIT!” shouted Bertie.

  He bent down and picked something out of the mud. It was a dirty toy car missing a wheel.

  “I wondered where that had got to,” said Bertie.

  “Huh! So much for finding gold!” sighed Darren.

  “I told you it picks up anything that’s metal,” said Eugene. “You’re not going to find gold coins every single time.”

  For the next half an hour, they combed the lawn from top to bottom. At last they sat down to inspect their finds. There was a swimming badge, a rusty screw, a toy car and a penny. It wasn’t exactly the treasure Bertie had in mind.

  “Maybe we’re not looking in the right place,” he sighed.

  “My dad says it’s all about knowing where to search,” agreed Eugene. “For instance, in the old days the Romans probably lived around here.”

  “What? In Bertie’s house?” said Darren.

  “No! But sometimes people find bits of Roman pottery in their gardens,” said Eugene. “I’ve seen them in Pudsley museum.”

  “Well, if they’ve found pottery, I bet there’s gold buried somewhere,” said Bertie.

  He’d been hoping for pirate treasure but Roman gold was even better! There might be gold cups, helmets, swords and daggers studded with jewels. Maybe they’d find a Roman money box stuffed with gold coins! Think how much that would be worth – millions or possibly billions.