Читать книгу Dogtective William and the Poachers - Elizabeth Wasserman - Страница 5
ОглавлениеPlans are Made
When I came home from school and found my mother waiting for me, armed with my favourite takeout hamburger and an extra-large packet of fries, I smelled a rat.
There was even a small vase with flowers on the table next to the big, brightly coloured paper bag.
“Isn’t fast food supposed to be bad for me?” I asked.
“Perhaps. But you don’t eat it that often,” she said with a sweet smile.
I gulped down my lunch so quickly that I almost forgot to wonder why she was spoiling me like this. Now she was whistling while doing the dishes – another ominous sign.
Below the table, William pressed his cold nose against my shin.
“Sorry boy, you can’t have any of this,” I said. “You already have a problem with your weight.”
William sighed and skulked away to his favourite spot: the armchair where my dad likes to sit and read the morning paper over his first cup of coffee. Dad was a nifty dresser, but he always had black and white dog hair sticking to the back of his pants.
My mother came from the scullery, drying her hands with a cloth and giving me a broad smile. “Did you enjoy that, Alex?”
I would have felt more comfortable with the usual “Don’t you have a lot of homework to do?” or “I hope you’ve already started studying for tomorrow’s geography test!” or even “I found your socks on the bathroom floor. Again!”
Something was definitely wrong. She patted me on the head and drew a chair from the kitchen table to sit next to me. Any moment now, I thought while I finished off the last of my hamburger, she was going to hit me with a story that would mean some kind of trouble for me.
“Would you mind, dear, to go and stay with your Aunt Ada for two weeks?”
I sat up straight in my chair. From the corner of my eye I saw William pricking his ears. His long, floppy ears were not good at pricking, but I knew he was doing his best.
“Aunt Ada! When can I go?”
Aunt Ada was my mom’s older sister, and she had a game farm in the north of our country, right on the border of Botswana. And on top of this, I get a hamburger thrown into the deal!
“Well, see … ” my mom started to explain. She looked somewhat disappointed that I was so keen to go, perhaps wondering whether she might have got away without bribing me with junk food. “Your dad’s promotion means more responsibilities for him at work. They asked him to represent the company at a conference in Europe. I would love to go with him, of course.” She explained that one of Dad’s colleagues had been set to go to the conference, but he’d fallen ill and now Dad had to go in his place. That’s why there was such short notice.
I used a finger to mop up some tomato sauce from my plate and licked it clean. I was testing her patience.
“I’ve never been to Europe,” Mom continued. Her eyes were glistening at the thought of travelling to such a far-off and exciting continent.
“Europe is great,” I said.
She smiled at me in that motherly way that was supposed to make me feel cute, but not as clever as I might think I am. “I’m sure you’ll also get an opportunity to go there one day. At least you’ve already been to South America, and Mauritius too!”
Little did she know that I was familiar with many of the great European cities, while South America still remained a mystery to me. My parents were under the impression that I went there on a soccer tour; meanwhile, I was dodging that lout Brumbum and his henchmen in a wild chase across Europe. And Mauritius is boring compared to Tromelin Island, where William and I found one of the largest pirate treasures ever.
But of course I couldn’t tell her about any of that. She would freak out.