My Haunted House Page 11


    GO AWAY!

    I could not believe it. There was the sun- glasses woman gazing into space like her best dream ever had just come true. Then the frog man got up and waved a few bats away, and he said, "Perfect! It's even bet- ter than we expected, isn't it, dear?" "It is, " agreed the sunglasses woman. She turned to Aunt Tabby and shook her hand. "What a wonderful welcome, " she said.

    "Thank you so much. " And then the small boring one heaved herself out of the pillowcase and said in a really stupid squeaky voice, "I'd love to live here; it's so exciting. " She tugged at the woman's sticky sleeve and pestered her, "Can we live here, Mom? Please, please, please can we, Mom?" "Of course, dear. " The sunglasses woman smiled. Huh. I really don't think it is good to give in to children who pester, especially irritating ones with squeaky voices.

    But the sunglasses woman went right ahead and said to Aunt Tabby, "This house is perfect. We'll take it. We can move in tomor- row!" What? Now I really could not believe it. It had been the best Awful Ambush I could pos- sibly have done. Everything had worked per- fectly--even Sir Horace had turned up. But not only had the weird people liked it, it had made them want to buy the house. What more could I do? So I yelled at them. "GO AWAY!" I shouted as loud as I could. It was great yelling from so high;it echoed around and around the hall, and everyone looked up. Three of them looked amazed and one looked annoyed. "You can't live here, " I yelled at the top of my voice. "It's my house and I live here. GO AWAY!"

    The annoyed one opened her mouth to say something, but I got in first. "It's all your fault, Aunt Tabby!" I told her. "You never asked me about selling the house, and you never asked Uncle Drac, either. You just told us what you had decided to do. It's not fair. We all live here, not just you. And I want to stay living here and I'm not going, I'm NOT!" Aunt Tabby wiped the soot and flour and strawberry Jell-O and spiders off her face. "Well, " she said, "making a disgusting mess doesn't exactly make me want to stay here, Araminta. The place is difficult enough to keep clean as it is. I suggest we all go and have a cup of tea and talk about it. I'm sure you'll feel better about things when you have talked to Mr. And Mrs. Wizzard. "

    The weird people followed Aunt Tabby down the stairs to the kitchens. Just before they disappeared, the stupid short one looked up at the balcony. I stuck out my tongue and gave her my best Fiendish Stare. That showed her. "What a twit, " I said to Edmund. And can you guess what Edmund said? It was completely idiotic. He said, "I thought she looked all right. " I thought she looked all right! I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I gave him my Fiendish Stare as well, and he shot off into Sir Horace's room, but I followed him. I had a Last Chance Plan, and I needed Edmund's help. "You've got to come down to the kitchen with me, " I told Edmund, who had backed into a corner. "If they saw a real ghost, they wouldn't last five seconds. "

    "You said that before, " Edmund said, in an irritating way, "and they're still here. Anyway, I think they're nice. I'd like them to stay. " "Look, Edmund, " I told him, as he obvi- ously had not got the point, "if they stay, I have to go. You wouldn't want that, would you?" Well, that told him. He didn't say anything at all; he just floated off and headed for the crummy old ladder. But there was no way I was going to let him get away. "Edmund!" I yelled. "What?" he said in a really grumpy voice. "You're Sir Horace's page, aren't you?" I asked him. "Yes . . . " he said.

    "So--you're meant to do what he tells you, aren't you?" "Ye-es . . . " "And Sir Horace told you to help me, didn't he?" "Yes . . . " He sighed just like Aunt Tabby does when the boiler has done something really annoying. "Well, I need you to help me get rid of all those horrible people. Right now. I want you to come with me and scare them away. " "All right, " said Edmund in a sulky voice. But I didn't care how sulky he was. This was my Last Chance Plan, and it had to work.