Read Online Billy Angel by Sam Hay - Free Book Online Page A

expected them all to be enormous. But they weren’t.
    â€˜Introducing Kelly “the Belly” Bradshaw from Florida, USA.’
    There was a round of applause and a few cheers as a skinny woman with a shock of orange hair took a bow.
    â€˜And next up we have Gary “the Growler” Gibbons from Adelaide, Australia.’
    Another round of applause and a few whoops of delight, as a small man in a khaki boiler suit gave a wave and did a few star jumps.
    â€˜And our very own local lad, Charlie “the Pit” Pittam!’
    I craned my neck. It was the first time I’d seen the root of all my troubles. He wasn’t much to look at. A bit like a mobile-phone salesman: smooth. In fact his face was so smooth it wasalmost expressionless. (I wondered whether he had some sort of face iron that he used to get the creases out at night.) I noticed he got an extra big cheer from a moon-faced girl in the audience – no doubt she was the sausage heiress.
    â€˜And introducing a new competitor, Stanley Smith…’
    â€˜That’s us!’ growled Thelma. ‘Come on.’
    There was a smattering of polite applause, and a few odd looks, as between us we managed to wrestle Stan into a chair. (I noticed Thelma had taken down Stan’s picture from above the counter.)
    â€˜And, finally, a late entry, introducing Grant “the Champ” Watkins.’
    Thelma did a double take. ‘What?!’
    It was true. There, taking his seat amongst the other competitors, was Grant the pie chef.
    â€˜What’s he doing?’ squealed Thelma.
    Of course I knew, but I was too scared to say. Grant was obviously so besotted with Thelma that he’d decided to reclaim her honour and beat Charlie Pittam at his own game. I shook my head. Grant looked a less-likely competitive pie-eating candidate than I did.
    Just then Charlie sauntered over.
    â€˜Who’s your new friend, Thelma?’ he said nastily, looking straight at Stan. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce us?’
    â€˜Pies!’ growled Stan.
    Thelma blushed scarlet. ‘Hello, Charlie,’ she said with a wobbly voice. ‘I hope you’ll be a good loser tonight.’
    Charlie swept back his greasy, black hair and sniggered. ‘Oh, and he’s going to beat me, is he?’ He sniggered again, and then went back to his sausage girlfriend.
    Well, he had a point. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Stan wasn’t looking his best. I’d definitely made a few errors with my rewiring. I’d already noticed he couldn’t quite close his jaw properly, and one of his feet had fallen off, but I’d hidden it in my tool bag.
    The announcer guy, who looked a bit like Thelma – apart from the bald head and moustache (her dad, I reckoned), picked up his mike again.
    â€˜Now, the rules are simple: competitors must not be helped by any of their supporters; they must finish each pie before embarking on their next; they’re only allowed to sip water – no other liquids; the time limit is ten minutes andthe judges’ decision is final. We’re pleased to have with us Jeffrey Dullard from
The Guinness Book of Records
to ensure it’s a fair and impartial competition. Now, bring on the pies!’
    The kitchen doors opened and large silver platters piled high with pies were presented to each competitor, along with a jug of water. Members of Jeffrey Dullard’s team were assigned to watch each competitor, and count the pies they consumed.
    My heart was racing. This was it. I still wasn’t quite sure what I was doing here. I certainly hadn’t protected Thelma from her dark side. I’d practically introduced her to it. If it hadn’t been for me and my screwdrivers, we wouldn’t even be sitting here. I sighed, and started trying to think of ways to explain all this to the hoodie-angel…

Chapter 16
    â€˜On your marks, get set, GO!’
    And we were off. Or rather,