Читать книгу ‘… then he ate my boy entrancers.’ - Louise Rennison - Страница 59

How many hours is it till we go to Hamburger-a-gogo? Jas will know. I’m not phoning her though.

Doorbell rang.

I went quietly to the top of the stairs and looked down. Crikey! Loon Alert! It was my grandad, and he was wearing shorts! Not his huge, all-encompassing grandad shorts that he wore during the Boer War, but cycling shorts. In Lycra. Good grief.

Please, please tell me he has not taken up cycling. Please.

I went back to my room quietly.

Maybe if I hide behind the door they will think I am out and JUST GO AWAY.