There's a Hamster in my Pocket Read Online Free PDF

back view that morning.
    â€œThe noise was atrocious last night,” Kylie went on. “The whole gang was in Sniper’s room, and, honestly, you’d have thought the ceiling was going to cave in.
    â€œMum went up and asked him what was going on, and he just told her to keep her nose out of things that didn’t concern her. That way, no one would get hurt.”
    She turned to me and said, in the saddest voice you could ever imagine, “I just want my mum to be happy, Yosser. And she isn’t.”
    That did it. I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. All of a sudden they just spouted out of me and there I was, holding onto Kylie and weeping buckets and telling her all about the nightmare and the box and everything.
    â€œI was going to give it to you for your mum,” I sobbed. “But it’s cursed, Kylie.
Cursed.
The pin man said so, and I know it sounds silly, but I believe him, ‘cause
everything
’s going wrong for
everyone
. . .”
    I was just drawing breath to launch into a list of all the things that had gone wrong since Nani spat on the box, when Kylie hissed, “Look!” and pointed, and there was Sniper, creeping out of the front door with a big bundle under his arm.
    â€œI’ll bet he’s going to hide the murder weapon in the garden,” Kylie whispered, “in case there’s a police raid. That’s what criminals always do. . .”
    We watched Sniper flatten himself against the wall and creep round to the back of the house. When he got to the garden gate he dumped what he was carrying, looked around in all directions, stuck two fingers in his mouth and gave three sharp whistles.
    â€œThe signal,” Kylie explained, and sure enough, in a couple of seconds Germane and Twista appeared and thethree of them slapped one another’s shoulders and banged one another’s knuckles. Then, hooting and shrieking, they disappeared round the back, out of sight.

    Sinking down onto the floor, Kylie wrung her hands in despair.
    â€œIt’s like living with a time bomb,” she said. “I just don’t know where it’ll all end.”
    Then she gave her head a shake, stood back up, and completely changed the subject. Kylie’s great that way – she never lets things get her down for long.
    â€œYou’ve got to get a grip on this box thing, Yosser,” shesaid. “Curses only work because people believe in them. You read about them in books, but they aren’t
real
.”
    â€œBut I
do
believe in the Curse of Samarkand,” I said. “I’ve got it into my head, and even though I know it’s stupid, I can’t get it out.”
    â€œExactly,” said Kylie. “You’ve let your imagination get the better of you. There’s only one thing to do,” she said firmly. “Open the box. See for yourself there’s nothing inside.”
    I thought about it, and the more I thought, the more I saw that Kylie was dead right.
    â€œYou’ve got to hunt for the key, Yosser,” she went on. “Leave no stone unturned – it’s got to be somewhere in the house.”
    Then she picked up her paintbrush and dipped it in the Fiesta Red paint tin.
    â€œIt’s like my dad’s always telling us,” she said, as she ran a large red slash from one end of the wall to the other. “Things are better out than in. . .”

Germane
    On Saturday morning I woke early, to the sound of pouring rain and Nani’s wheezes.
    There was a feeling of utter dread in my stomach, and a sour lump of guilt at the back of my throat.
    I clambered carefully over Nani, fetched some milk from downstairs, then crept into the Fiesta Red bedroom. Killer Queen peeped out over the top of her box, and I lifted her out, and watched her drink the milk. Then I put her on my lap and stroked her.
    Things couldn’t have been much grimmer. That morning, Mum and Dad were going to paper the Feature