Read Online How to Survive Summer Camp by Jacqueline Wilson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jacqueline Wilson
Ads: Link
even five hundred. You wait, Karen, you’re going to end up in prison, you’ll see.’
Karen clutched hold of Louise.
‘I didn’t, did I, Louise? All right, I tipped out some of her clothes, we both did, and we ate a bit of her chocolate, but that’s all. It was only a joke. The book might have got tipped on the floor but we didn’t rip it, did we?’
‘ I didn’t rip it,’ said Louise, pushing Karen away.
‘But I didn’t either! I didn’t, I didn’t!’
‘No, you didn’t, Karen,’ said Janie.
We all stared at her.
‘Me and Rosemary were here when you and Louise mucked up Stella’s things. You didn’t rip her book.’
‘There. See!’ said Karen, nodding at me triumphantly. ‘Now just say you’re sorry, Baldy.’
‘She can’t have done it, Stella,’ said Marzipan. ‘I helped you pick up your things and we put the book back and it was fine then, wasn’t it?’
I couldn’t work it out. I knew Karen must have done it somehow. I held on to my book, trying hard not to cry.
‘Let me have a look at it,’ said Marzipan. ‘It’s badly torn but it’s only the actual outside part. The pages are all right, all the colour plates and everything, look.’
I couldn’t bear to look any more.
‘It’s ruined,’ I said flatly, and I took my book and clutched it to my chest.
What was Mum going to say?
‘She’s crying,’ Karen sneered. ‘What a baby. All this fuss about a stupid old book. She leaps on me and practically murders me and then doesn’t even bother to apologize when it’s proved that I didn’t do anything to her rotten old book.’
‘Yes you did!’ I suddenly shrieked. ‘And I know when you did it too. When you were up here after lunch, after you’d fallen off your chair. You were here all by yourself. That’s when you did it. That’s when you ripped up my book.’
Karen shook her head violently.
‘No, I didn’t. I didn’t, I swear I didn’t,’ she said, but she was wasting her time.
No one believed her, not even Louise. She was a hateful wicked criminal and we all knew it.
‘Honestly, Karen,’ said Louise. ‘Don’t you know the difference between a joke and a crime?’
That night the crying was much louder. It was inside our dormi. It was Karen.
Her face was all sore and swollen in the morning. She’d run out of tissues and kept scrubbing at her face with a sodden wad of lavatory paper. None of us spoke to her, not even Louise.
‘Shall I lend her a hankie?’ Marzipan whispered to me.
‘No! Not after what she’s done,’ I said, fingering my poor book.
It looked even worse in the daylight.
‘Perhaps you could try a bit of sellotape?’ said Marzipan.
‘You can’t just shove sellotape on a book like this.’
‘I know, it’s the binding that’s precious,’ said Louise surprisingly. ‘My father collects old books. He’s always going round antique markets and places like that. If you want I could write to him and ask him to look for another copy of that book for you.’
‘Yes, but I haven’t the money.’
‘Well, you can’t really expect my father to pay for it, can you?’ said Louise. She paused. ‘Are you going to tell Miss Hamer-Cotton?’
Karen sniffled in the corner. A bit of me wanted to make her sniffle even more. But I wasn’t a tell-tale.
I didn’t even tell Orange Overall/Purple Pinafore. She found the bits of my book when she was tidying up our dormi and she came and found me.
‘I want a word with you, Stella,’ she said.
Today she was wearing a navy dress with white spots that made my eyes ache.
‘It’s about your poor story book,’ said Dotty Dress.
My heart started thudding and I felt sick. I was sure I was going to get into trouble.
‘I don’t know how it happened,’ I said quickly, terrified that she’d make me go to Miss Hamer-Cotton.
‘Never mind how it happened, pet,’ she said. She sounded as bothered about it as I was. ‘Let’s just try to get it mended. I know someone who might be able to
Karen clutched hold of Louise.
‘I didn’t, did I, Louise? All right, I tipped out some of her clothes, we both did, and we ate a bit of her chocolate, but that’s all. It was only a joke. The book might have got tipped on the floor but we didn’t rip it, did we?’
‘ I didn’t rip it,’ said Louise, pushing Karen away.
‘But I didn’t either! I didn’t, I didn’t!’
‘No, you didn’t, Karen,’ said Janie.
We all stared at her.
‘Me and Rosemary were here when you and Louise mucked up Stella’s things. You didn’t rip her book.’
‘There. See!’ said Karen, nodding at me triumphantly. ‘Now just say you’re sorry, Baldy.’
‘She can’t have done it, Stella,’ said Marzipan. ‘I helped you pick up your things and we put the book back and it was fine then, wasn’t it?’
I couldn’t work it out. I knew Karen must have done it somehow. I held on to my book, trying hard not to cry.
‘Let me have a look at it,’ said Marzipan. ‘It’s badly torn but it’s only the actual outside part. The pages are all right, all the colour plates and everything, look.’
I couldn’t bear to look any more.
‘It’s ruined,’ I said flatly, and I took my book and clutched it to my chest.
What was Mum going to say?
‘She’s crying,’ Karen sneered. ‘What a baby. All this fuss about a stupid old book. She leaps on me and practically murders me and then doesn’t even bother to apologize when it’s proved that I didn’t do anything to her rotten old book.’
‘Yes you did!’ I suddenly shrieked. ‘And I know when you did it too. When you were up here after lunch, after you’d fallen off your chair. You were here all by yourself. That’s when you did it. That’s when you ripped up my book.’
Karen shook her head violently.
‘No, I didn’t. I didn’t, I swear I didn’t,’ she said, but she was wasting her time.
No one believed her, not even Louise. She was a hateful wicked criminal and we all knew it.
‘Honestly, Karen,’ said Louise. ‘Don’t you know the difference between a joke and a crime?’
That night the crying was much louder. It was inside our dormi. It was Karen.
Her face was all sore and swollen in the morning. She’d run out of tissues and kept scrubbing at her face with a sodden wad of lavatory paper. None of us spoke to her, not even Louise.
‘Shall I lend her a hankie?’ Marzipan whispered to me.
‘No! Not after what she’s done,’ I said, fingering my poor book.
It looked even worse in the daylight.
‘Perhaps you could try a bit of sellotape?’ said Marzipan.
‘You can’t just shove sellotape on a book like this.’
‘I know, it’s the binding that’s precious,’ said Louise surprisingly. ‘My father collects old books. He’s always going round antique markets and places like that. If you want I could write to him and ask him to look for another copy of that book for you.’
‘Yes, but I haven’t the money.’
‘Well, you can’t really expect my father to pay for it, can you?’ said Louise. She paused. ‘Are you going to tell Miss Hamer-Cotton?’
Karen sniffled in the corner. A bit of me wanted to make her sniffle even more. But I wasn’t a tell-tale.
I didn’t even tell Orange Overall/Purple Pinafore. She found the bits of my book when she was tidying up our dormi and she came and found me.
‘I want a word with you, Stella,’ she said.
Today she was wearing a navy dress with white spots that made my eyes ache.
‘It’s about your poor story book,’ said Dotty Dress.
My heart started thudding and I felt sick. I was sure I was going to get into trouble.
‘I don’t know how it happened,’ I said quickly, terrified that she’d make me go to Miss Hamer-Cotton.
‘Never mind how it happened, pet,’ she said. She sounded as bothered about it as I was. ‘Let’s just try to get it mended. I know someone who might be able to
Similar Books
