Phew! Still there!
Evan lay on his stomach, the sleeping bag wrapped loosely around him, the binoculars fixed to his eyes. The sun had gone down and the garden was bathed in darkness.
“Can you see anything yet?” Chloé asked him
“Yeah. I can see the bag. It’s still there,” he whispered.
“Can I have a look,” she said. He handed them over.
“Oooh! It’s really good. I can see a dog looking into the garden. He’s sniffing the air. I think it’s Lewis.” Chloé gave him them back.
“Right,” she said. “I’ve written a list of who’s doing what watch on the bag. Evan, you’re doing nine o’clock to eleven. I’ll do eleven to one o’clock then it’s Elle and Francis to three and Monkey three to five. After that, we’re all awake until breakfast. Fabby said she’ll do some sausage, egg and toast specially.”
Evan shot her a glance. “How come Elle and Francis get to do it together?”
She tutted at him. “It wouldn’t be fair to make Elle do it on her own. She’s only little and she’s a bit timid.”
He thought it over. “Yeah, you’re right. Listen, I checked outside before and you can’t see any light from the inside so we can use the torch to read if we can’t get to sleep.” They all nodded.
It turned out to be quite hectic, what with Moopah startling them all when he came out to give them the cups of hot chocolate and a thermos flask Fabby had made for them then various cats causing the security lights to come on, hedgehogs rustling in the undergrowth and owls hooting or screeching almost all night.
At five o’clock when Chloé’s alarm on her watch started to beep, Monkey woke up and pretended he hadn’t fallen asleep. “Nothing to report,” he said then thought he should just check in case there had been something. Binoculars to his little eyes he suddenly felt a moment of panic when he couldn’t see the bag. Then again he couldn’t see the gates either. ‘They’ve stolen the gates as well!’ he thought then realised he had the binos the wrong way round. ‘Phew! Still there!’
Evan had rubbed his eyes and put on a green baseball cap he’d found hanging on the back of the door to Moopah’s office. It gave him a military air he felt. As Chloé poured out some hot chocolate from the thermos he doubled checked on Monkey’s report that nothing had happened.
As the fingers of dawn crept over the horizon, Evan did a patrol of the garden, just in case. Nothing unusual found, they sipped the last of the chocolate and read some comic books.
At seven o’clock, Fabby whispered through the flap of the tent. “I hope everyone had a good sleep. If you come inside now, breakfast is nearly ready.”
After a lovely meal, Chloé and Evan dashed outside to check if the grass bag was still next to the gate. It had gone!
The old man from the little ramshackle house across the road waved at them and wished them ‘Good health.”
They ran back indoors to break the awful news to the others.
Fabby stood up from stacking the dishwasher. “What’s that you said? The bag of grass is gone? Oh, that’s ok. I told the old man across the street weeks ago that he could take any bags of grass he saw. He feeds the chickens with them.”
They all cried out, “Fabby!” apart from Francis who said, “I knew it would be the old man!” They stared at him, looks of astonishment on their faces.
Chloé and Evan began to sing, “Liar, liar, your pants are on fire,” then fell about the floor laughing.