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Duncan Versus the Googleys - Softcover

Milner, Kate

 
9781782692515: Duncan Versus the Googleys

Inhaltsangabe

A quirky and hilarious debut about scheming old ladies, mechanical monsters and fearless children from an award-winning illustrator

Duncan just wants to spend all summer at home playing games on his phone. Instead, his parents leave him with his Great Aunt Harriet at Arthritis Hall retirement home, a community of hostile old ladies with a diabolical secret...

Duncan quickly befriends Ursula, the caretaker's daughter who knows every secret passageway in the building, and the two must work together as they become embroiled in a plot involving bizarre electronic creatures, a sinister knitting circle and acts of ingenious thievery.

Duncan Versus the Googleys is a brilliantly madcap crime caper, in which two resourceful children try to outwit a fiendish group of criminal octogenarians. Aren't grown-ups supposed to be the sensible ones?

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Kate Milner is a writer and illustrator based in Bedfordshire with her husband and son. In her career she has painted pub signs and made prints, been a teacher and a carer. When working at her local library, she fell in love with children's books and went on to become an illustrator, winning the Klaus Fugge Award for her picture book My Name is Not Refugee. Duncan Versus the Googleys is her first novel.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

-1-
Three Birthday Presents
and a Computer Game
There was a monster inside the walls. Ursula, tucked
up in her cardboard bed, thought she could hear it
scratching, just inches away. She was not afraid of it
because she made a point of not being afraid of anything,
but it was getting harder now that she knew it
was growing.
Ursula shared one gloomy room with her father, Mr
Meager. He was the caretaker at Arthritis Hall. This
morning she was pretending to be asleep while he prepared
her special breakfast. She burrowed down under
her newspaper blankets, all warm and cosy. That was
when she heard it: a word spoken right next to her ear.
It was quiet but quite distinct.
&;Juice.&; It had to be the monster, though the voice
didn&;t sound very monstrous: it was small and metallic.
&;Juice?&; it said again, this time more like a question.
The monster had never spoken before. Did it know she
was there? Was it asking her?
&;Wakey, wakey,&; wheezed Dad. &;Happy birthday,
petal, up you get.&;
He had laid a clean piece of newspaper on the table,
lit a candle in a jam jar and arranged two chocolate
biscuits and a grape on each plate, one for her and one
for him.
&;Come and get it, petal,&; he told her. &;Got to be back
at work in ten minutes or she&;ll have my guts for garters.&;
They ate in silence, the better to savour every delicious
crumb. Then Mr Meager pretended to forget where
he had hidden the presents and she pretended to believe
him. Three packages this year, each wrapped in newspaper
and tied up with an orange bow made from a
rubbish sack.
&;Start with the smallest,&; he advised. She eased the
shell of newspaper off her first present. It was a packet
of Dandelion and Burdock wine gums. They were the
sort of sweets you or I might buy with our pocket money
and chomp down in five seconds, but to Ursula, who had
so little, they were a great treat.
The second package contained an adult&;s T-shirt
printed on the front with the logo of a rock band and
on the back with the tour dates from 1989.
&;But it&;s your best, Dad,&; she protested.
&;Go on,&; he urged, &;I rinsed it through for you.&; She
pulled it on over the vest, jumper, pyjama top, anorak
and poncho she was already wearing. It fell almost to
her ankles.
&;Cheers, Dad,&; she said.
If you knew Mr Meager well you would know that the
faint mauve bloom on his sunken cheeks was a blush.
The remaining present was a worry. It was altogether
too smug, too jaunty. Ursula had known she would get
the wine gums and the T-shirt but she didn&;t know what
this was and it made her nervous. Her father didn&;t seem
too sure about it either.
&;Who is it from?&; she asked suspiciously. He didn&;t
answer, wouldn&;t meet her eye. &;I bet I know who it&;s
from,&; she grumbled.
&;Go on, petal, just see what it is.&;
Ursula gingerly peeled back a section of the newspaper
to reveal some very bright orange fur. For one mad
moment she thought it was a Poo-Chi pet. There had
been a huge craze for them at her school and there was
nothing in the world she wanted so much as a real Poo-
Chi pet. She ripped off the paper.

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