Buried Alive! Read online

  Biscuits and I rushed to the railings. He’d really dropped Dog Hog but not in the sea. There was a rotting landing stage directly below, and poor Dog Hog lay spread-eagled on it, splashed by the lapping sea.

  Biscuits didn’t hesitate. He seized the railings and swung his leg over.

  ‘Biscuits! Don’t be crazy! You can’t! It’s far too dangerous!’ I yelled.

  ‘I’ve got to get Dog Hog. I’ve had him since I was a baby. My nan knitted him.’

  ‘Then she could knit you another one, Biscuits. Oh please, don’t!’

  ‘She can’t knit another one. She’s dead now. I have to get him, Tim,’ said Biscuits, and he started climbing down determinedly.

  ‘Biscuits! You might fall! Please don’t. Wait for my dad,’ I begged.

  ‘I can’t wait,’ Biscuits gasped, and then his foot slipped on the wet railing and he was left hanging by his hands.

  ‘Biscuits!’

  Biscuits held on, got his feet back on the bar below, gave himself a second’s breather, and then started feeling for the next bar – and the next – and the next. I hung over the pier, not daring to talk to him any more in case I distracted him. He went down and down – nearly slipped again, hung on – down and down – and then he jumped for it. He was there, on the landing stage!

  It creaked ominously as he bounded onto it, as if it might break up altogether under his weight.

  ‘Oh, be careful, Biscuits!’ I whispered.

  Biscuits seized Dog Hog, held him briefly for one moment, and then stuffed him very firmly far down into his trouser pocket.

  ‘There, I’ve got him!’ said Biscuits. ‘Now all I’ve got to do is get back.’

  He looked up. He blinked.

  ‘Ah. The thing is . . . how am I going to get back?’ Biscuits said.

  ‘I’ll have to get Dad!’ I shouted.

  ‘Are you calling me, Tim?’ It was Dad, suddenly right beside me. ‘What is it? Where’s Biscuits?’

  ‘Down there!’ I said, pointing.

  ‘What?’ Dad peered. ‘Oh my goodness! Hang on, son. I’ll come down.’

  ‘No. I’ll come up,’ said Biscuits, and he spat on his palms determinedly. He seized the first bar and hauled.

  ‘That’s it!’ said Dad. ‘Now the next!’

  Biscuits continued steadily, though his face was purple with effort.

  ‘Steady now,’ Dad cried. ‘Biscuits? Are you all right? Here, I’m coming!’

  ‘No! I’m – I’m – just – out – of – puff!’ Biscuits gasped. ‘But – I’m – OK.’

  He looked down to see how far he’d got. He wavered.

  ‘Don’t look down!’ Dad shouted.

  Biscuits looked up, and started climbing again.

  ‘That’s the lad. Not too far now,’ Dad said. He looked over his shoulder. ‘Thank heavens Mum’s still with that fortune-teller. She’d go bananas if she saw Biscuits. What’s he playing at? Don’t you boys realize it’s highly dangerous?’

  ‘Yes, I realize it ever so, Dad,’ I said. ‘And so does Biscuits. But this was a serious emergency. You see these boys were being nasty to us and one of them—’

  ‘OK, OK. Don’t rabbit on about it now, Tim. Let’s just concentrate on Biscuits getting back up here all in one piece,’ said Dad, leaning right over and just about reaching Biscuits. ‘Take my hand, Biscuits.’

  Biscuits did as he was told. Dad very nearly toppled over with his weight, but just about managed to hang on. Biscuits climbed up, and Dad seized him under the armpits and hauled him back over the top of the railings.

  Biscuits lay flat on the planks, gasping like the captured fish.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Dad asked. He sat down too, and mopped his brow.

  ‘You – bet!’ Biscuits puffed.

  ‘Oh Biscuits, you were so brave!’ I said.

  ‘Yes – I was – wasn’t I?’ said Biscuits, sitting up and grinning.

  ‘You were also very very reckless and silly,’ said Dad. ‘You must never ever do that again, do you promise?’

  ‘Cross my heart and hope to die,’ said Biscuits. ‘Phew! I feel a bit peckish after all that high drama.’

  Prickle-Head had dropped most of Biscuits’s secret supply of food. Biscuits started gathering it up and consuming it rapidly.

  I didn’t feel hungry at all, even though I was ultra-empty after being sick. I still felt bowled over by Biscuits’s bravery. And cast down by my own cowardice.

  I was a totally useless scaredy-cat little squirt.

  I picked my way slowly back down the pier, plank by plank. Biscuits and Dad strode ahead, chatting man to man.

  ‘Are you feeling all right, Tim?’ said Mum, but she didn’t sound too worried.

  The fortune-teller had put her in an unusually good mood.

  ‘She says I’m going to meet someone from the past – and romance is in the air,’ said Mum, her eyes sparkling.

  ‘I hope I don’t breathe it in – I can’t stick romance,’ said Biscuits.

  Dad laughed and patted him on the back.

  They decided they wanted to go to the amusement arcade. Dad bought us all candy floss. I didn’t want mine so I gave it to Biscuits. He started playing this car chase with Dad. Mum began feeding coins into a fruit machine. She didn’t listen properly when I started telling her about Prickle-Head and Pinch-Face.

  ‘What’s his name, darling?’ Mum said vaguely – and then she laughed triumphantly. She’d won the jackpot.

  ‘Oh, never mind,’ I said huffily, and I wandered off by myself.

  I stopped at one of those crane machines full of little rubber trolls with wild pink and purple hair. My girlfriend Kelly has a troll doll called Theresa.

  I thought about Kelly. I hoped she wasn’t still mad at me for asking Biscuits on holiday instead of her. I decided to try to win her another troll as a holiday present. A friend for Theresa. Yes, she’d really like that. She really liked me. Even if I wasn’t very brave.

  I put a whole pound coin in the machine. It gave me five goes. It should be easy-peasy to get one troll. Several. Maybe even five.

  Ha! I wrestled with the handle that worked the crane but it wouldn’t go where I wanted. It missed altogether the first two goes. It caught a troll’s hair the third go and I gasped – but the troll slipped away. I missed the fourth time. My hand started to shake for the fifth and final go.

  Someone was standing behind me, watching. I hate that. The crane opened up its claws. It brushed against a couple of trolls. It knocked one so that its little rubber arm waved cheekily. But then the claws closed on nothing. The crane went up again – empty.

  ‘You’re pretty useless!’ someone said. ‘Here, you’d better let me have a go.’

  I turned round to look at this rude stranger.

  It wasn’t a stranger at all.

  It was Kelly!!!

  Chapter Four

  I COULDN’T BELIEVE it was Kelly. But there are no other girls like her. She has hair sticking straight up in the air in a top knot. When she’s excited it waggles about. She’s got little dark glinty eyes and a great big grin. She wears bright clingy clothes and posh trainers and she talks all the time. Well, I suppose there are quite a lot of girls like Kelly, but she’s the bounciest.

  ‘Kelly!’ I said.

  ‘Hi, Tim,’ she said. She grinned, the corners of her mouth almost tickling her ears. She had new earrings, white and sparkly. She twiddled them proudly.

  ‘Do you like my diamonds? My mum’s boyfriend Dave bought me them as a holiday present,’ she said.

  ‘Wow! Real diamonds!’ I said.

  ‘Well. Not real real. But they’re very good synthetic stones,’ Kelly said, tossing her head about so that they caught the light. ‘Right. Budge over, Tim. I’ll show you how to work these cranes.’

  Kelly’s mum’s boyfriend Dave had given her a whole purseful of change. She inserted a coin and started twiddling.

  She was ace.

  In a matter of minutes Theresa Troll had