Lucy the Lie Detector Page 5

  ‘But, Cal, I need your help. We have to find her before Mum and Dad wake up.’ Lucy held her tummy. She felt as if she’d swallowed a worm farm and all the worms were writhing around inside her. ‘I’ll give you a dollar.’

  Calvin crossed his arms. ‘Don’t want it.’ He picked up his helicopter and spun the propeller.

  ‘Really?’ Normally, Calvin would do anything for money. ‘But it’s an emergency!’

  Calvin eyed her off. ‘A real ’mergency?’

  ‘Yes, of course, it’s real. I wouldn’t lie.’

  Calvin stared at her.

  ‘Apart from that one time.’

  Wow, thought Lucy. Calvin had always trusted her in the past. She got down on her knees and clasped her hands together. ‘I’ll do anything you want if you’ll help me.’

  Calvin looked at her out of the corner of his eye. ‘ Anything?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said urgently. ‘Anything.’

  Calvin was silent for some time. He took the pilot out of the helicopter and made her walk along the bedspread.

  Lucy glanced at Calvin’s bedside clock. ‘Well?’ she said.

  ‘I’m thinking,’ said Calvin. He put the pilot back in the helicopter and fiddled with it a little longer. A small smile played on his lips.

  ‘Come on, Calvin.’

  Calvin frowned at her.

  ‘I mean, take your time,’ she said hurriedly. ‘As long as you want.’

  He put down the toy. ‘I’ve decided.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You have to play Wild Things with me when I say.’

  ‘Oh, okay,’ said Lucy, relieved his request was so simple. ‘Can we go and look now?’

  ‘There’s more,’ said Calvin. ‘I want to be the boss. I want to be Max all the time. And you have to do what I say, like you have to be tied up, not me.’

  Lucy squirmed. She liked to be the one to make up the rules. After all, she was the big sister. ‘I suppose I can do that,’ she said at last.

  ‘ And,’ he went on, ‘you and Harriet have to let me play traffic cops and not say I’m too little. Also, I want to be boss policeman.’

  Lucy wrestled with herself. Calvin certainly drove a hard bargain. ‘Okay, yes, I agree. You’re the boss.’

  ‘And you do my jobs for a month.’

  ‘A whole month? But Calvin –’

  Calvin picked up his helicopter. ‘I’m busy now,’ he said, and flew it around.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ said Lucy. ‘I’ll do all your jobs for a whole month. Promise.’

  Calvin landed the helicopter and looked her square in the eye. ‘Do you really promise?’

  Lucy sighed. It felt as though someone was mixing a cake inside her tummy. If her brother didn’t help her, she had no chance of finding Miss P. Not that I’ve given him a reason to help me, she thought. After what I did to him, I’ve only got myself to blame if he says no.

  ‘Look, Cal, I know I told a lie about you before but I’m not telling one now. I’m really sorry I said you scratched the car. I’ll never blame you for anything ever again. And I’m not just saying that because I want you to help me. I promise to let you be the boss of the games and I’ll do all your chores too. Can’t you forgive me? Please?’

  Calvin paused, stretching out the moment for what seemed like hours. ‘Can I bring my binockalers?’

  ‘You look in the laundry, I’ll look in the lounge room,’ said Lucy.

  Calvin pursed his lips. ‘No, I look in the lounge room.’

  Lucy was about to argue when she remembered her promise. ‘Fair enough,’ she said. ‘You look in the lounge room.’

  But after half an hour of quiet but careful searching, all Lucy and Calvin had found was two dollars in change, a missing sock and a very old cheese and tomato sauce sandwich wedged behind the couch. They met back in the kitchen and Lucy leant against the back door, her heart hammering in her chest. ‘Where is that guinea pig? If we don’t find her soon, I’m dead.’

  ‘Lucy!’ cried Calvin. He pointed at a spot between her knees, his mouth gaping open.

  Lucy followed his gaze to the cat flap in the door behind her. A silver ribbon – Miss P.’s silver ribbon – was caught in it.

  ‘Oh, no!’ said Lucy. ‘She’s outside!’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Though they searched the backyard three times, they found nothing.

  ‘New plan,’ said Lucy. ‘I’ll check all the yards in Berry Street. You check the front yard.’

  Calvin crossed his arms.

  ‘What I meant was,’ said Lucy quickly, ‘could you please check the front yard, Calvin? If you want.’

  Calvin nodded and they set to work.

  Since she was still in her pyjamas, Lucy got a few looks from people in passing cars. There was no time to worry about that. She peered under neighbours’ bushes and inside letterboxes. The longer she looked, the less hopeful she became.

  Then Harriet appeared. ‘I saw you through my window. Why are you out so early?’

  Lucy thought about telling her the truth but she wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. All the same, she did need some advice and Harriet was good at that.

  ‘Can I tell you a story?’

  ‘Is it about a police officer?’ asked Harriet excitedly. ‘Does anyone get arrested?’

  Lucy shook her head. ‘Just listen.’

  Harriet shrugged and they sat down on the garden wall together.

  ‘It’s about a girl,’ began Lucy. ‘A girl called ... Jasmine. Yeah, Jasmine. She was going on holidays so she asked a girl called ... Lucinda to look after her pet guinea – I mean, goldfish.’

  ‘Is this a story from a book?’

  ‘Sure,’ replied Lucy.

  ‘What’s it called?’

  ‘Can’t remember.’

  ‘Did you borrow it from the school library?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then where did you get it?’

  ‘Just around,’ said Lucy vaguely. ‘Look, do you want to hear the story or not?’

  ‘Yes. Keep going.’

  ‘Lucinda thought it would be nice if the goldfish came and stayed at her place. Unfortunately, the goldfish escaped –’

  ‘Escaped! How?’ ‘It just did.’

  ‘But how?’ persisted Harriet. ‘It would die if it jumped out of the water. How could it run away?’

  Lucy rubbed her eyes. It was going to be a long morning.

  ‘So what do you think will happen to Lucinda?’ asked Lucy, once she got to the end of the story.

  Harriet put the tip of her plait in her mouth and sucked on it for a while. ‘Lucinda told her Dad a lie and she stole.’

  ‘Borrowed,’ corrected Lucy.

  ‘Stole,’ said Harriet, shaking her head. ‘She took something that wasn’t hers without asking. She broke the law. That’s much worse than breaking a rule.’

  ‘What’s the difference?’

  ‘You break a rule, you get sent to your room. You break a law, you get sent to jail.’

  ‘Jail!’ cried Lucy. ‘But I’m still in school!’ Harriet narrowed her eyes. ‘Lucy, are you Lucinda?’

  Lucy buried her face in her hands.

  ‘You stole someone’s goldfish?’

  ‘Guinea pig, actually,’ said Lucy. ‘Jacinta’s. But if I catch Miss P., no one will know I did it.’

  ‘They always know,’ said Harriet grimly.

  Lucy sighed. ‘What can I do?’

  Harriet stood up and paced back and forth. ‘When our rabbit got out of its cage, my big brother made a trap. Have you tried that?’

  Hope fluttered in Lucy’s chest. Harriet might love rules a bit too much, but she always came through when it counted.

  Chapter Twenty

  The trap was simple but clever. They put some vegie scraps
under a blue plastic crate then propped up the crate with a ruler. Then they tied a long piece of string around the ruler and Harriet ran the string along the ground to a hiding place behind the chook shed. Lucy and Harriet lay in wait, ready to pull the string the moment Miss P. trotted under the crate. Calvin’s job was to stand guard by the back door. The second Mum or Dad got out of bed, he had to cluck like a chicken to warn the girls.

  Though Lucy and Harriet had only been lying on the grass for twenty minutes, Lucy’s nerves were as taut as violin strings. Every time she heard something – a snapping twig or a dog barking – she jumped. Time was running out. What would Mum and Dad say if she couldn’t find Miss P.? What would Jacinta say? And worse than that, what would Jacinta do? And then there was Miss P. How frightened she must be out in the wide world.

  Oh, why did I tell Dad I could take Miss P. home? she thought. Some lie detector she was. She knew full well she was telling whoppers but that hadn’t stopped her. What was the matter with her?

  ‘You could still tell your parents,’ whispered Harriet, playing with a blade of grass.

  Lucy shook her head. ‘Can’t. They’ll find out I had Miss P. in my room. Also, Dad will say I’m not responsible enough to look after a guinea pig. Then he’ll never let me have one.’

  ‘But –’ began Harriet.

  She didn’t get to finish her sentence because, right at that moment, there was a thud.

  ‘The trap!’ cried Lucy.

  She scrambled to her feet and raced across the lawn. Harriet followed close behind and Calvin left his post to come and look. The three of them stood around the crate, fully expecting to hear Miss P.’s squeak squeak squeak. But all they heard was an angry bok bok bok!

  ‘Oh, no!’ said Harriet.

  ‘Apricot!’ said Calvin.

  ‘You naughty chicken!’ cried Lucy. She lifted up the crate and Apricot took off for the safety of the compost heap, clucking indignantly.

  ‘Apricot being mischievous as usual?’ said Dad.

  ‘Dad!’ exclaimed Lucy, spinning around. ‘And Mum!’

  Her parents were standing behind them, smiling in their pyjamas.

  ‘Goedemorgen,’ said Mum.

  ‘Morning, Lucy,’ said Dad. ‘Morning, Calvin, morning, Harriet.’ He peered in the direction of the back fence and waved. ‘Morning, Miss P. Quiet little thing, isn’t she? Doesn’t do a whole lot.’

  Lucy held her breath. Since Nathan was the same colour as Miss P., she’d put him in the cage as a decoy. As long as they didn’t get too close, she was safe.

  ‘I’d love to meet her,’ said Mum. ‘I’ve been working so hard lately, I feel like I’ve lost touch with what you kids are up to.’

  ‘You can’t!’ cried Lucy at the same time as Calvin and Harriet shouted, ‘No!’

  ‘Goodness,’ said Mum, ‘why ever not?’

  ‘It’s Miss P.,’ replied Lucy. ‘She’s, um, she’s ...’

  ‘Shy,’ suggested Harriet, then clapped her hand over her mouth, shocked at herself for telling a fib.

  ‘That’s right,’ said Lucy. ‘She’s shy. She doesn’t want to meet anyone.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ said Dad.

  ‘No,’ said Lucy hurriedly. ‘Not shy. What I mean is, she’s, um –’

  ‘Dead!’ offered Calvin helpfully.

  ‘Yes!’ said Lucy. ‘I mean, no! She’s not dead.’ She made a face at Calvin. ‘She’s just, you know, in a mood.’ Lucy knew how ridiculous that sounded. She’d told so many fibs, she had no idea what she was saying. She wished she’d never lied in the first place. Apart from anything, she wouldn’t have to keep track of all her stories.

  Mum and Dad looked at each other then marched off in the direction of the cage. Lucy ran after them, but it was too late. Dad opened the lid of Miss P.’s cage and pulled out Nathan. He and Mum stared at the toy camel then back at their daughter.

  ‘Lucy van Loon,’ said Dad. ‘You’ve got some explaining to do.’

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Lucy and Calvin sat next to each other on the lounge room couch. Harriet had gone home. After all that lying, she needed a cool drink and a rest. Dad paced the floor, rubbing his bald patch as he digested all that Lucy had told them. Mum held her hand against her mouth to stop herself from saying something she’d regret.

  In the silence, Calvin spun the propeller of his helicopter. Lucy wished she could shrink herself down so she could fit inside it. She’d fly over to Harriet’s place and live in her dolls house for a while. Just until Mum and Dad calmed down. She closed her eyes and made a wish. When she opened them, she was still her normal size. She groaned and Calvin smiled at her sympathetically. Dad noticed.

  ‘And you, zoontje, don’t think you’re off the hook. You may not have been the mastermind behind this scheme, but you played a part.’

  ‘Don’t blame Calvin,’ said Lucy quickly. ‘He was only helping me find her. He didn’t know I’d lied about bringing Miss P. to our place.’

  Calvin looked up at Lucy and their eyes met. He gave her a brief nod of thanks.

  ‘All right,’ said Dad. ‘Calvin, you’re officially pardoned. But as for you, Lucy, the lies you’ve been telling! You really have –’

  But it was all too much and Lucy burst into tears. She didn’t want to hear the word ‘lie’ ever again. Or ‘fib’ or ‘whopper’ or ‘porkie pie’ or ‘falsehood’. She didn’t want to be Lucy the Lie Detector anymore. It was too hard and she only got herself into even worse messes.

  Dad came over and put his arm around her. ‘Come on, love,’ he said. ‘It’s not the end of the world.’

  ‘I try so hard,’ sobbed Lucy, ‘but I keep making m-m-mistakes. I told the truth about Mrs Preston’s painting and I got in trouble. Then I lied about Miss P. coming to our place and I got in trouble too. No matter what I do, I get in trouble. And now you and Mum h-h-hate me.’

  ‘Oh, darling,’ said Mum, ‘we don’t hate you. What we are is disappointed in you. Disappointed and extremely upset. We thought we could trust you.’

  Lucy sobbed harder. ‘You don’t trust me any m-m-more.’

  ‘You do make it rather hard sometimes,’ said Mum. ‘But that doesn’t mean we don’t love you.’

  ‘I wish I hadn’t done it,’ gulped Lucy. ‘And now Jacinta’s going to kill me!’

  ‘No!’ cried Calvin. ‘I get my sword!’

  ‘Steady, tiger,’ said Dad, reaching out and patting Calvin on the arm. ‘No need to get your cardboard sword. No one’s killing anyone.’ He stood up and beckoned Mum over. ‘You’ll need to be punished, Lucy. No question about it. But now’s not the time. We’re going to catch that guinea pig before the Prestons get back tomorrow or my name isn’t Arjo van Loon.’

  Mum nodded. ‘Operation Guinea Pig has officially begun.’

  The family spent the rest of the day searching the front and back gardens and door knocking the neighbourhood. Unfortunately, by evening, there was still no sign of Miss P.

  ‘We’ll never find her,’ said Lucy, plonking herself down on the edge of the outdoor bathtub. For some reason, she didn’t want to scream or shout or rip up phone books. She just sat there in a puddle of despair and cried.

  Dad bobbed down in front of her. ‘Don’t give up hope just yet. We’ve got Miss P.’s favourite foods under that trap and how could anyone resist parsley and carrot tops?’

  Lucy smiled weakly, trying to hold back a yawn.

  ‘I think it’s time you went to bed,’ said Dad. ‘I’ll stay up and keep looking.’

  Lucy reluctantly agreed. She could hardly keep her eyes open. And if anyone could catch Miss P., Dad could. Even so, she slept badly that night. She dreamt she’d shrunk to the size of a guinea pig and was forced to live in Miss P.’s cage. Each morning, Jacinta would poke carrot tops through the wire and tie different coloured bows around her neck.r />
  Lucy woke up with a start. The sun had only just come out. She leapt out of bed, hoping desperately that Dad had been lucky. But when she opened the back door to the verandah, he was asleep in the deck chair, the string still in his hand. Her heart sank as if someone had tied a brick to it and dropped it in the sea. Poor Dad, she thought, poor me and, more importantly, poor Miss P.

  She was about to shake Dad awake when something reddish-brown flashed across the lawn. What? Could it possibly be Miss P.? Lucy peered through the long grass and there, nosing around the edge of the trap, was that pesky guinea pig.

  Walk under it, thought Lucy, sending the most powerful thought waves she could muster. Take the bait.

  Miss P. sniffed the air. She inched forward. She inched back. She trotted around the edge of the crate, then, just when Lucy thought she’d never go underneath it, she did. Yes! thought Lucy, watching her nibble on some parsley.

  Well aware that any sudden move could cause Miss P. to run, Lucy bent down very, very slowly. She opened out Dad’s fingers one at a time and picked up the string. As her hand closed around it, the back door swung open and Calvin chirped, ‘Did you catch her?’

  ‘Shh,’ whispered Lucy, barely moving her lips.

  Miss P. was losing interest in the parsley. Any second now, she could wander off and it would be too late.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Calvin. He caught the door before it banged shut.

  Lucy gripped the string. She took a deep breath and she ... yanked on it! The ruler came away, the crate fell with a thud and Miss P. squealed at the top of her lungs.

  Lucy dashed over to the trap. Miss P. was leaping wildly against the sides, scrabbling and scratching and making quite a racket.

  ‘What is it?’ said Dad, opening his eyes and sitting up suddenly. ‘Where am I?’