Matty and Bill for Keeps Read Online Free PDF

you would notice that it has the shape, texture and colour of a dead man’s lips. So I drew out this oyster and pressed it to Isabelle’s lips.’
    â€˜Very clever,’ said Bill.
    â€˜Sadly, not clever enough,’ said Crispin.
    â€˜Why not?’
    â€˜Isabelle has an acute sense of smell. Her nose twitched and she must have realised she was being tricked. She opened her mouth and lunged at the oyster, almost taking my fingers with it. You see, Isabelle loves oysters. Her parents told me at dinner time that they started getting her used to exotic food as soon as she was on solids. At the age of six months she was eating caviar.’
    â€˜What’s that?’
    â€˜Minute fish eggs that people eat on biscuits at cocktail parties.’
    â€˜What’s a cocktail party?’
    â€˜Ghastly things.’
    â€˜So your oyster trick failed. What then?’ asked Bill.
    â€˜This is the bit I’m ashamed of,’ said Crispin, sadly shaking his head. ‘I ran to the house and told Mr and Mrs Farquay-Jones that Isabelle wanted them to meet her at the golden maple in precisely twenty minutes. I think they were having a bit of an argument, so they said they’d be out in about thirty minutes. I said, “Alright”, then I took off. I snuck out the front door, ran down their driveway and down the hill, and I didn’t stop till I got to your road. Even then I slunk along the edge ready to dive for cover behind any trees or bushes.’
    Bill’s eyes were bulging. Never had he heard of a boy doing anything so dangerous. No one would have dreamt of treating Isabelle Farquay-Jones like that and think they could get away with it. He didn’t want to frighten Crispin, but Bill knew Crispin was in terrible trouble.
    â€˜I’m glad you told me that,’ Bill said as casually as possible. ‘Just in case anything happens, you can depend on me and Mat to support you.’
    â€˜Thanks ever so much,’ said Crispin. ‘Truly – heartfelt thanks.’
    â€˜No worries,’ said Bill, knowing deep down that there were, in fact, bucketloads of worries.
    Sure enough, that very afternoon, as all the kids poured out of their classrooms, a huge, expensive white car glided like a shark into the carpark. Bill instantly recognised the Farquay-Jones’ vehicle. He also noticed that Isabelle was not in it – only her parents.
    Crispin de Floriette had just walked up to Bill to say goodbye for the day. Bill grabbed Crispin and ducked down behind a large rubbish bin. ‘What’s this about?’ asked Crispin as he crouched next to Bill.
    â€˜Over there,’ said Bill, nodding his head towards the carpark, ‘are Mr and Mrs Farquay-Jones.’ Bill carefully peered around the side of the bin. ‘They’ve got out of their car and are heading for the school office.’
    â€˜What do you think they’re going to do?’ whispered Crispin, craning around the other side of the bin.
    â€˜They’re going to kick up a fuss about you,’ said Bill. ‘They did the same about me a few weeks back.’ What he didn’t say was that if Isabelle’s parents had got nasty and threatening about Bill and Matty’s fundraising film night, what would they do about Crispin’s treatment of Isabelle? Would they call it kidnap and torture?
    â€˜What do you advise me to do?’ asked Crispin.
    â€˜Nothing for the moment,’ said Bill. ‘Wait until I’ve spoken with Matty. She’ll know how to handle this.’

Back at the Grubs’ house after school, Bill told Matty about the grave danger that Crispin de Floriette was in.
    â€˜We need to discuss this further in the Think Tank,’ said Matty.
    On their way outside, the two friends grabbed a drink and two freshly baked banana muffins. Munching and sipping, they walked down the back verandah stairs and stepped into the sun-warmed bath.
    Mat and Bill now had