Read Online Olive of Groves and the Great Slurp of Time by Katrina Nannestad - Free Book Online

‘It’s that little bird again! It’s still being held prisoner in the clock. Somebody do something!’ Her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell to the floor with a plop .
    â€˜Num-num-num-num-num-num-num!’ Num-Num leapt from her seat, grabbed Glenda by the neck and dragged her towards the door.
    â€˜Num-Num!’ scolded Olive. ‘Drop!’
    Num-Num flicked her tail. She glared at Olive and dropped the goose. Then, shrieking like a banshee, she threw herself onto her tummy, kicking, writhing and biting at the floorboards.
    â€˜Oh dear,’ gasped Olive. ‘It’s been a long day for the poor little mite. I’d better take her upstairs to bed.’
    â€˜I’ll help,’ said Basil.
    â€˜No, I’ll help!’ snapped Eduardo.
    And a small but embarrassing tussle ensued between the two boys. It ended with Basil holding Eduardo in a head lock while Eduardo snapped Basil’s braces against his back.
    Olive sighed and shook her head. ‘What is wrong with those boys?’ She excused herself from the table, peeled Num-Num off the floor and carried her upstairs.
    Back in the turret, Num-Num consoled herself by chewing a large clump of hair from Olive’s head. Five minutes later, it resurfaced and splattered on the floor, just as the rats returned from dinner.
    â€˜That’s gross,’ said Wordsworth, poking the hairball with his toe. ‘Disgusting, vile, ghastly, horrible, repugnant and curiously slimy!’
    â€˜Absolutely!’ squeaked Chester.
    â€˜My word!’ cried Blimp, and he dragged the hairball away to their nest, where all three rats agreed that it suited the décor just perfectly.
    Num-Num rubbed her tummy, burped, then proceeded to jump up and down on the cake tin containing the mini muffins. Olive thought this rather odd, but on further reflection, decided that nobody really knew what constituted normal dinosaur behaviour.
    After ten minutes, Num-Num stopped, rubbed her eyes and dived into Olive’s bed. She burrowed to the bottom of the quilt and promptly fell asleep. ‘Poomph . . . num-num-num-num-num . . . poomph . . . num-num-num-num-num . . . poomph . . . num-num-num-num-num . . .’
    Blimp crept out from beneath the bed. ‘Oh, Olive!’ he sobbed, wringing his little pink paws. ‘Do you think we will ever manage to get the lid off the cake tin again?’
    â€˜Let’s see, shall we?’ The tin was badly squashed, but two tugs, one heave and a rather unladylike groan saw the lid come free.
    â€˜Hooray!’ Blimp dived in, stretched out face-down on the mini muffins and wept for joy.
    Chester scampered up into Olive’s lap and tugged at her cardigan. ‘Do dinosaurs eat buttons?’ he whispered, eyes wide and fearful.
    â€˜No! Absolutely not!’ our heroine assured him, even though she had no idea what strange and random thing Num-Num might decide to eat next. ‘Your button collection is completely safe.’
    Chester’s ears drooped with relief and he scuttled away a happy rat.
    A little green book slid out from beneath the bed, followed by Wordsworth. ‘A new story,’ he said. ‘About amouse who lived in Russia during the great crumb shortage of 1675.’
    â€˜Just what I need,’ sighed Olive. She lay down on the rug and rested her head on a cushion, while Wordsworth read the moving tale of cake, loss, hunger and hope.
    At half past eight, Olive changed into her pink pyjamas, climbed into her lopsided bed and blew a kiss to the photo on her bedside table. ‘Goodnight, Granny and Pop.’
    â€˜Poomph . . . num-num-num-num-num . . . poomph!’ Num-Num stirred at her feet, chewed a hole in the sheet and settled once more.
    Olive giggled. Turning off the lamp, she snuggled down beneath her quilt, closed her eyes and listened to the sounds around her – the soft nibble-nibble of Blimp working his way through muffin crumbs and