Authors: Alan MacDonald
Smash! (4 page)
They were late arriving on Saturday, mainly because it took Gran about six hours to get ready. The school hall was crowded with people by the time they got there. Tables and chairs were set out to face a platform at the front. To Bertie’s dismay all of the seats seemed to be taken. He spotted Darren and
Eugene but they were with their families.
“What about that table? They’ve got seats,” said Gran, pointing.
Bertie groaned. “No way! I’m not sitting next to Know-All Nick!”
“You don’t have to talk to him,” said Gran. “Anyway, there’s nowhere else.”
Bertie trailed after her and flopped into the seat beside his old enemy. It looked like Nick had brought his gran too. She was wearing a sparkly gold dress and her hair was piled on her head like whipped cream. Bertie thought she looked as if she was having dinner with the Queen.
“Not sitting with your friends?” sneered Nick.
“No, I’m stuck with you, worst luck,” sighed Bertie.
Nick held his nose. “Pooh! You could have had a bath,” he sniffed.
“You could have stayed at home,” answered Bertie, turning his back.
Across the table the two grannies were getting to know each other.
“So nice to meet you,” said Nick’s grandma. “I’m Julia.”
“I’m Dotty,” said Gran. “Have you played bingo before?”
“Oh, I hardly think so,” sniffed Julia.
“Me and Sherry go every Wednesday,” said Gran.
“That must be nice for you,” said Julia snootily.
Bertie rolled his eyes. He could tell they were in for a long evening.
Miss Boot, their Bingo Caller for the night, sat down on the stage. Her job was to call out the numbers. In front of her was a round cage filled with numbered balls in different colours. To one side stood a table piled with prizes. Bertie ran his eye over them eagerly. There was a picnic set (boring), a toaster (boring), a hairdryer (very boring) and … Bertie almost leaped out of his seat – a silver stunt scooter!
He’d been begging his parents to buy him one since Christmas. Eugene had one, so did Royston Rich (with his name in gold letters). If he had a stunt scooter, Bertie could learn tricks – back flips, twists and double somersaults. He’d be the Stunt King of the world. But only if he won the scooter. He glanced around. What if someone else got their hands on it before him?
Nick spoke in his ear.
“See anything you want?”
“Not really,” Bertie lied. “The prizes are all pretty boring.”
“Yes, apart from one,” smiled Nick. “I saw you drooling over the scooter.”
Bertie frowned. He should have been more careful. “You’d be useless on a scooter,” he said.
“Actually I’ve always wanted one,” said Nick.
“Since when?”
“Since this evening,” said Nick.
“Well, forget it, because that scooter’s mine,” warned Bertie.
Nick smirked. “Not if I win it first!”
“No chance,” said Bertie.
“Want a bet?” said Nick. “Tonight’s my lucky night.”
Bertie scowled. Nick could never ride a stunt scooter in a million years. He’d probably run over his own foot. The only reason he wanted one was to spite Bertie. Well, they’d soon see about that. From what Gran had told him bingo was a piece of cake. All he had to do was collect a few numbers and the scooter would be his.
Miss Boot rose to her feet. The first game was about to start.
“I’m sure many of you have played bingo before,” said Miss Boot. “As you know, it’s a simple game of chance.”
“
Fat
chance in your case,” muttered Nick.
“In a moment I will call out the numbers,” Miss Boot went on. “The first person to cross off every number
on their card is the winner. They can come forward and choose one of our marvellous prizes.”
Bingo cards were handed out to every table. Bertie studied the rows of numbers.
“Good luck, Bertie!” whispered Nick. “Let me know if you need any help.”
Bertie stuck out his tongue.
Miss Boot turned a handle, making the coloured balls bounce inside their cage.
CLUNK! PLOP! One of them rolled down the chute.
“Number four – knock on the door!” Miss Boot shouted.
Bertie searched the numbers on his bingo card. Rats! No number four. He
glanced at Nick, who seemed more interested in sneaking a sweet from his grandma’s handbag.
“Ooh, lucky for some!” Julia giggled, marking her card with a pencil.
The cage spun round and another ball shot out. “Forty-four – droopy drawers!” cried Miss Boot.
Bertie couldn’t see what her pants had to do with it, but forty-four wasn’t on his card.
The game went on. Bertie’s luck improved. He’d managed to cross off nine numbers on his card. Only six more to go and he would win.
Miss Boot held up the next ball. “Twenty-six – pick and mix!”
“BINGO!” someone whooped.
Bertie looked up. Nick’s grandma was on her feet, waving her card in the air.
“You’re kidding!” groaned Bertie.
“I don’t believe it,” moaned Gran.
“Tough luck, Bertie!” jeered Nick. “You snooze, you lose!”
Bertie watched Nick’s grandma go forward as people started to clap.
“That’s SO unfair,” muttered Gran. “She doesn’t even
like
bingo!”
Nick’s grandma inspected the prizes.
Not the scooter, please not the scooter,
Bertie thought to himself.
Julia’s hand hovered for a moment – then she chose the picnic set and carried it back to her seat. Bertie breathed a sigh of relief.
Miss Boot announced that they would take a short break for drinks and pizza.
Bertie found himself in the queue behind Know-All Nick.
“Your grandma’s so lucky,” said Bertie, helping himself to a slice of pizza.
Nick smirked. “You think it’s luck?”
“What else do you call it?” asked Bertie.
“Skill,” said Nick. “I can tell you why she won.”
“Why?” said Bertie.
Nick looked round then lowered his voice. “Because I have power over Miss Boot,” he whispered. “It’s called mind control.”
Bertie rolled his eyes. “You’re such a liar!”
“That’s what you think,” bragged Nick.
“You won’t be laughing when I win the next game.”
Bertie watched his enemy bite into a big slice of pepperoni pizza.
He’s making it up,
he thought. Nick could only control Miss Boot’s mind if he had superpowers. And even if he did, the balls were chosen by pure chance. All the same, Nick’s grandma
had
won the first game. Bertie decided he’d have to keep a close eye on that two-faced sneak.
