Read Online Blabber Mouth by Morris Gleitzman - Free Book Online Page B

Ms Dunning to swing into action. If Darryn Peck stood on his head in class, she’d be giving him a good talking to before you could say ‘dingle’.
    But she didn’t give Dad even a medium talking to.
    She just watched him and laughed and said that she’d read in a magazine somewhere that if you stand on your head when you’re full up you choke and die.
    Dad sat back down and they both laughed some more.
    I can’t believe it.
    OK, I know that inside she’s deeply embarrassed, and that after tonight she’ll never want to be seen dead in the same room as Dad again.
    But why doesn’t she say something?
    Too nice, I suppose.
    That’s how she can sit through all those extra reading lessons with Megan O’Donnell without strangling her.
    It’s tragic.
    Here’s Dad, pouring her some more wine and chatting away happily about why he gave up drinking, and he doesn’t have a clue that he’s just totally and completely stuffed up his best romantic opportunity of the decade.
    Because he’s his own worst enemy.
    And he doesn’t have a clue.
    And he won’t till someone tells him.
    Ms Dunning won’t.
    So it’ll have to be me.
    Me and Darryn Peck’s brother.

While I was creeping out of the house this morning Dad gave a shout and I thought I’d been sprung.
    â€˜Jenny,’ he called out, and I froze.
    I took several deep breaths to try and slow my heart down and in my head I frantically rehearsed my cover story about going for an early morning run to train for the big race with Darryn Peck.
    Then I checked my nails for white spots.
    Then I remembered my name isn’t Jenny.
    Jenny was Mum’s name.
    I crept along the verandah and peeked through Dad’s bedroom window.
    He was still asleep, tangled up in the sheet, his Elvis pyjamas scrunched up under his arms. Dad’s a pretty tense sleeper and I’ve heard him shout in his sleep a few times. Usually it’s Mum’s name, though once it was ‘The hat’s in the fridge’.
    I stood there for a few secs watching him. There was something about the way he had his arms up against his chest that made him look very lonely, and seeing him like that made me feel even more that I’m doing the right thing.
    I ran into town.
    Along the road the insects were waking up, and judging by the racket they were making they thought I was doing the right thing too.
    â€˜Go for it,’ a couple of million screeched, and another couple of million yelled, ‘He’ll thank you for it later.’
    One said ‘You’ll be sorry’, but I decided to ignore that.
    I went to the bank and put my card in the machine and took out my life’s savings.
    Then I went across to the phone box and looked up Peck in the book. There were two, but I didn’t think Peck’s Hair Removal sounded right, so I went to the other one.
    It was quite a big fibro place with a mailbox nailed to a rusty statue of a flamingo by the gate, and two motorbikes in the front yard.
    I had to ring the bell four times before the front door half opened and a bloke with a sheet wrapped round his waist and a red beard peered out.
    â€˜Are you the skywriter?’ I asked him.
    He stared at my note, yawning and rubbing his eyes.
    â€˜You want Andy,’ he said.
    He looked at me for a bit, then turned and yelled into the house.
    After he’d yelled ‘Andy’ the third time, a bloke with red hair and a tracksuit appeared, also rubbing his eyes.
    â€˜She wants Andy,’ said the sheet bloke.
    The tracksuit bloke stared at me.
    â€˜Andy!’ he yelled.
    Another head appeared round the door.
    It wasn’t Andy.
    It was the one I’d been dreading.
    Darryn.
    He stared at me in amazement, then his eyes narrowed.
    â€˜What do you want?’ he demanded.
    â€˜Get lost, shortarse,’ the sheet bloke said to him.
    I was glad Darryn’s family knew how to handle him.
    â€˜Vanish,