Read Online Freaks Out! by Jean Ure - Free Book Online

carpet already. And in the corner.
    â€œWell, I mean, you never know,” said Jem. “My auntie thought her engagement ring had gone for ever, but then this voice told her to go and look in this particular place that she’d never looked in before and there it was, after all that time!”
    â€œHow long?” said Skye.
    â€œDon’t really know. But she got it back!”
    â€œSo where was it in the end?”
    But of course Jem didn’t know that, either. Skye shook her head as we walked in through the school gates. I jabbed at Jem with my elbow.
    â€œDid you do it?” I hissed.
    She hissed back at me. “Yes!”
    So that was why she thought there might be a sign. I just hoped Saint Anthony had been paying attention when she talked to him.
    We went back with Skye after school and Skye told her mum that we were going to have another search of her gran’s bedroom.
    Her mum said, “I’m afraid you won’t find anything, but by all means give it a go.”
    Skye’s mum is as different as can be from Jem’s. There is nothing round and jolly about her. She’s loads older for a start, almost like she might be someone’s gran. She is quite nice, but she teaches science and is ferociously clever in a rather forbidding sort of way, which is maybe, I sometimes think, the reason Skye finds it so difficult to talk about her feelings. What I mean is, you can’t ever imagine her and her mum settling down to a cosy chat, like I can with my mum.
    She asked us, as we prepared to troop upstairs, ifwe’d be staying to tea. If it had been Jem’s mum we would have said yes please, and we’d all have got together in the kitchen and just grubbed around.
    â€œHelp yourselves! Go look in the cupboard, see what you fancy.”
    That’s what Jem’s mum would have said. But we knew with Skye’s mum it would have meant the table being properly laid, with knives and plates and cups and saucers, so we very politely said no, thank you, we had to get home.
    â€œThis is Gran’s room.”
    Skye flung open a door and we walked into this really sad, empty space. The bed was stripped and all the surfaces were bare. Me and Jem gazed round helplessly, waiting for a sign, but none came. Skye watched as we made a show of opening drawers and peering under the bed. There was absolutely nothing to be seen. Whatever had been in the drawers was no longer there, and there weren’t even any fluff balls under the bed. (I have masses of dog hairs under mine.)
    Rather desperately we opened the wardrobe, but all we saw was a row of hangers without anything hanging on them. I felt goosebumps go thumping down my spine and wished we hadn’t come. It was hard to believe that just a few weeks ago an old lady had been living there, all happily surrounded by her things. Her knick-knacks, as one of my grans calls them. Now it was like she had never been. No wonder Skye was so unhappy.
    Mrs Solomons was waiting for us as we trailed back down the stairs.
    â€œNo luck? We’ve been through it with a fine tooth comb; it’s hard to know where else to look. I’m afraid –” she patted Skye’s shoulder – “you’re going to have to reconcile yourself to the fact that we’re not going to find it.”
    â€œWe’ve got to find it,” I said, as me and Jem went on our way. “You’d better have another talk to Saint Anthony.”
    â€œI can’t do that,” said Jem. “It would seem like nagging.”
    â€œYou don’t have to nag! Just apologise for bothering him and ask if he can get a bit of a move on. Only say it nicely, of course.”
    â€œHe’ll do it as fast as he can,” said Jem. “You can’t hurry a saint. He’s probably busy.”
    I looked at her rather hard. “You did do what we agreed, didn’t you? You did promise you’d go to church every Sunday