Chapter three
‘How many of you are there?’ I shouted.
He wore dark clothes, a fleece, jeans tucked into wellingtons.Odd,wearing wellingtons upstairs.Must be a tramp.
I kept the torchlight on his face.He came down slowly.
‘What are you doing in our cottage?’I demanded.
He wasn’t very tall, about Adam’s age;straggly,greasy hair,pale face streaked with dirt.
‘It’s not your cottage!’
‘We’ve rented it for Christmas,’he said. ‘I couldn’t camp out in one of the caravans.’
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‘There aren’t any caravans in Little Thornton.’
‘Greenfield Caravan Site,’ he said. ‘My mum and dad’s site.’
But there wasn’t a caravan site in the village.
‘Why’s this the only dry place?’ I asked.
‘Because of the floods,last momth.’
I remembered Mum telling us she’d heard there might be floods on the east coast,but they didn’t happen.
‘There weren’t any,’I said.
‘There werw! The whole village was flooded.
Everyone drowned.I’m the only one left.
I managed to get up here and climb on to the roof.
I stayed until the water went went down.Then I got in through a bedroom window.I’ve been here ever since.
‘But,Mum phoned Mr Mason last week,’said Adam.
‘He didn’t say anything about floods.’
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‘There’s no Mr Mason here,’said the boy. ‘And where’s your mum anyway?’
‘She went to get petrol –we’d run out.She didn’t come back,’ said Adam.
That feeling of dread again.Where was Mum?
No good looking now in the dark,but first thing in the morning…
‘It you let us stay here tonight,’I said, ‘you can come with us tomorrow to get food from our car.’
‘OK, but only because L’ve hardly any food left.
You can sleep in the other bedroom.’
I pulled the packet of biscuits out of my pocket.
‘Here.Have a couple of there.I’m Grace.This is Adam and Ruby.’
‘Dave,’he said’and led the way up the rickety stairs.
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Chapter Four
We huddled together on the damp mattress.I’d never been so cold.What if Ruby and Adam died from hypothermia? I was supposed to look after them.
Scrabbling sounds.Downstairs I’d seen dead mice and dead rats.What if there were live ones? I’d wedged a broken chair against the door,but it wasn’t that secure.
When I woke it was light.I was stiff,shivering,squashed against the wall,Ruby’s sharp knees sticking into my back.Adam snored on the other side of her.The chair was still wedged against the door.My mouth tasted foul. ‘Let’s get back to the car,’ I said, ‘and get our stuff.’
Dave was already downstairs.
‘Come on,’ I said. ‘Food! We’ll feel loads better after a hot meal.’
He smirked,but I ignored him.
He walk behind us.That suied me.He must have been wearing the same clothes for ages.He really stank.
In the fields there were huge pool of water and mounds of earth. The wind blew that dreadful smell into our faces.
Those mounds – they were huge pools of water and mounds of earth.They were dead cattle and sheep.
We passed the petrol statio.
Why was everywhere so quiet? The ordinary
Country sounds of birds and animals and tractors were missing.
‘We should be able to see the roundabout,’ said Adam.
‘There is n’t one,’said Dave.
The wide road stretched ahead,absolutely straight,for a mile or more.The roundabout had disappeared,and so had the road that should have led
Us back to the car.
Where was it? Where was Mum? And where on earth were we?