Read Online Washy and the Crocodile by James Maguire - Free Book Online Page A

front of him.
    The impact was truly shattering. The door gave way, and the casement, wall, and most of the ceiling. He had forced his way right into the front wall of the building. Gentleman Jim shook the stones and dust from his head and shoulders, drew back ten yards, and charged again.
    Part of the ground floor of the little cottage collapsed into the street, and Samantha was suddenly closer to the ground.
    â€œWhat’s your new friend doing?” She shouted, not quite so calmly.
    â€œChecking the foundations.”
    Gentleman Jim charged a third time. No picturesque but ramshackle dwelling (with or without a council-approved fire escape) could withstand the repeated charges of a determined camel, and Samantha’s little cottage was no exception. Bricks shed their mortar, lintels disintegrated, walls, floors and ceilings came tumbling down, rather as if they had been in the battle of Jericho... and Samantha stumbled from the wreckage, dazed, scorched, choked by smoke... and alive.
    ***
    â€œI knew it would come down easily, and there would be no need to worry about anyone being trapped,” said Sam’s father, taking a cup of tea from a helpful neighbour, and failing to offer any to his wife. Mr and Mrs Stimson had returned from their evening class to find their home and possessions a smoking ruin and their only daughter homeless on the pavement, and he seemed remarkably cool about the whole thing.
    â€œIt was a shaky old building at the best of times,” he went on, wiping his moustache from the tea, and wondering how much he could claim on his insurance. “Don’t know why we bought it in the first place. Do you, darling?” He turned to his wife, adding the term of endearment somewhat perfunctorily. “It was your idea, wasn’t it? You were always much more fond of the old place than I was. And I always said there was no need for a fire escape!”
    Mr Stimson seemed, like his daughter, to be able to remain amazingly calm under trying circumstances. Betty, meanwhile, was inspecting the wreckage, and saying to herself: “I always wondered where that scarf had got to,” as if oblivious to the fact that her daughter’s life had just been saved.
    Samantha was explaining to a group of admiring firemen how she had kept her head during the crisis, because that was the right thing to do, and what her ambitions were, and how she really preferred to be called Sam; and she had caught the eye of a nice-looking young reporter, and was looking forward to being interviewed by him and putting across her own version of events.
    Everyone, in fact, seemed astonishingly happy.
    Everyone, that is, except Evie, who was desperate to tell the world what had really happened. No one was paying her any attention, and even her best friend Samantha was ignoring her; but surely even Samantha would have to admit the truth when confronted with a gigantic camel!
    She turned around - and found herself staring at an empty pavement. There was no camel there. There was no camel anywhere in sight. Gentleman Jim had disappeared into the night as if he had never existed: leaving only the shattered remains of the cottage strewn all over the road.
    ***
    â€œI’m so glad you had a nice, quiet evening at home, darlings,” said Mummy, after she had come in and taken off her coat, and made Jack wipe his shoes again, and checked the fire-guard was properly in place, and kissed everyone at least twice. “Did anything happen? Or did you all fall asleep?” She smiled indulgently. It was a cold night, after all; and the cottage was so nice and warm and cosy!
    â€œWe came back by the harbour-side,” said Jack, and paused importantly. Did he have everyone’s attention? He did! “Where your friend Samantha lives. Or, rather, where she used to live.”
    â€œJack!” said his mother indignantly; and
    â€œWhat do you mean, used to live?” Asked his sister, at the same time.