Read Online Scam on the Cam by Clementine Beauvais - Free Book Online

gel in the glove compartment, and we helped ourselves.
    â€œBut don’t you find it weird that Gwendoline is from Oxford and coaching the Cambridge team?” I asked.
    â€œNot at all,” he said, “the Hawthornes have lived in Cambridge for generations. Gwen went to Oxford because she wanted to do fine art, which you can’t do in Cambridge. Seriously, kids, don’t look any further. Everyone wants us to win—everyone except the river and the bug in it.”
    He dropped us off in the city center inCambridge, and we had to admit it had been another very bad day for sleuthing.
    I gloomily passed by the gate of Christ’s College. It was very hot, I thought, even though it was apparently raining. And I was very tired, even though it was only five o’clock. The river air, probably.
    â€œGood evening, Sophie.”
    â€œEvening, parents.”
    â€œHow was the outing? How’s the article going?”
    â€œNot great.”
    â€œYou’re not very chatty tonight.”
    â€œNo.”
    That’s when I fell onto the armrest of the armchair, bounced off it, landed on the floor, was even more colorfully sick than Gary and then all I remember is                                                                                                      

VII
    â€œEnough, Mother! A week of carrots is enough for anyone. I am not a bunny!
Je ne suis pas un
bunny!
No soy un
bunny! I don’t want to see or smell another carrot in my life. I wish carrots would disappear from the surface of the planet. In fact they probably are disappearing, since you’re feeding them all to me.”
    â€œThe problem with Sophie is that she’s a dramatic little Sarah Bernhardt,” sighed Mum. “Eat your carrot puree.”
    â€œI’m warning you, if I do end up turning into a rabbit, I’ll leave perfectly round little turds everywhere in the house. Everywhere. That’ll teach you.”
    â€œEat your carrot puree.”
    â€œBring me a rare, juicy, sinewy leg of lamb.”
    â€œEat this and then you can have a banana.”
    â€œHow about food for humans? I demand chicken korma and blackberry crumble.”
    â€œNot until you are cured.”
    â€œI am cured! I haven’t thrown up in fifteen hours and twelve minutes. Thirteen now. Can I go to school?”
    â€œNo. Eat.”
    I yawned, and she took advantage of the open mouth to thrust an enormous spoonful of the disgusting orange paste into it.
    â€œYou’re shuch a bad nurshe,” I shpluttered. “Dad ish a mushch better nurshe than you. He’sh all shweet and caring and he shtrokes my head. Where ish he?”
    â€œAt shursh,” said Mum, “I mean church. Eat your carrots, and then shleep. I mean sleep. I’m going to work; have a nice day.”
    She walked out, and I sighed. It was Friday. Toby, Gemma and I had been out of action for a whole week, and the Boat Race was tomorrow.
    In sickness or in health, there was no way I’dlet the serial poisoner get away with it.
    As soon as Mum had left the house, I got out my phone and went click-click-click-call.
    â€œHello-hello?” said Gemma’s voice at the other end of the line. “Who’s the lucky person who’s got the honor of talking to me?”
    â€œSesame,” I said. “But I think you’ll find
you’ve
got the honor of talking to
me
.”
    â€œHello, Sess! How long since you last threw up?”
    â€œFifteen hours and twenty-one minutes. You?”
    â€œTwelve hours and two minutes.”
    â€œWe’re basically cured.”

    â€œThat’s what I keep telling my parents, but they