The Wild Wests and the Haunted Fridge: Part 2

By JOY COWLEY, Illustrator TREVOR PYE

I remembered my cousin Royce's advice. If all else fails, he reckoned, try throwing a sickie. I scrunched up my face in agony. "What about my tooth?"

"There's nothing wrong with your tooth, Michael," said Mum. "It isn't even loose."

"It hurts!" I cried.

"Be that as it may," said my mother, who could be very cold-hearted when it suited her. "You'll forget about it when you're with your cousins."

Dad smiled. "Nice try, old chap."

So there I was, stuck, which meant I arrived at the Wests' house in a really bad mood. As I took off my shoes on their back porch, all I could think was how messy they were. Their porch was full of junk, the wheel of a tricycle, a baby's stroller full of firewood, a stinky blanket covered with dog hair, some old raincoats with cobwebs on the sleeves, tins of paint gone hard, a shovel, a dead pot plant, but no shoes apart from mine. They didn't bother to take their shoes off outside the door. They just walked over the floors with mud and chicken pool.

Publisher: HarperCollins, $12.95
Age group: 8-12 years