Washing cars didn’t sound half as exciting as Treasure Questing. It certainly didn’t sound like the kind of job Sita, Snake-Queen of Speed would stoop to. But then, Treasure Questing hadn’t actually turned out to be very exciting, and, as Kylie pointed out, washing cars was much more likely to make us some money.
“And we do have the gloves for it,” she added. “As your gran said.”
So that’s how we spent Saturday afternoon, and I’m telling you – it wasn’t much fun, especially as I decided that if you needed one squirt of washing-up liquid for a bowlful of dishes, it followed that you’d need ten squirts for a car. Which was far too much, and it took us hours to get rid of the bubbles.
Then, when we were collecting the bucket and water at my house, Mum insisted we took Bilal. And she wouldn’t let us take the buggy, because it was filthy after having the metal detector in it, so we had to carry him. He spent the whole afternoon sniffing around the bucket, and by the time Kylie and I realised that he was sniffing soap bubbles and then swallowing them, he had made himself sick.
By tea-time we were exhausted, so we set off for home, taking it in turns to carry Bilal who whimpered and dribbled down our backs the whole time. We were just about there when Kylie stopped and stared ahead with a worried expression. I stared too.
An enormous man was coming out of the allotment gate. He had a big bush of white hair, and big flappy trousers tied at the knees with string, and he was leading something that looked like a small brown tub with very thin legs, which turned out to be one of the ugliest dogs I’d ever seen.
It was extremely stout, and its skin was shiny and so tightly-stretched, it looked as if it might explode. Its bottom jaw jutted out so you could see a row of tiny, lethal-looking, yellow teeth, and its eye-sockets were so tight that its eyes were just two narrow, bloodshot slits. It wore a broad leather collar covered in metal spikes, and it looked like the Dog from Hell.
The man took great big steps, and the Dog from Hell had to take about twenty steps to each of the man’s. The nearer the man got, the huger he seemed, and the fiercer and more furious the dog.
“It’s Big Matt McBain,” Kylie whispered. “My dad’s ferret-rival. You’ve got to watch him.”
When Big Matt McBain reached us, he stopped and gave Kylie a big gummy grin. “Well now,” he said, in a low, rumbly voice, “if it isn’t Kylie Teasdale.”
Kylie tried to walk on past, but Big Matt blocked her way. The Dog from Hell peered up at Bilal with its little red slit eyes, and whined. Bilal squirmed and screamed and wriggled in the dog’s direction till Kylie put him down. Then the Dog from Hell and Bilal, who were roughly the same height when Bilal was sitting, stared silently at one another. Both were spellbound.
I didn’t speak either. I just did what Kylie said, and watched Big Matt like anything. In particular, I watched Big Matt’s big flappy trousers; and the more I watched, the odder I thought they were.
There was a strange, earthy smell coming from them, and, as if that wasn’t enough, they were writhing.
Honestly. It was the weirdest thing – like ripples going up and down the left trouser leg.
Big Matt didn’t seem at all fazed by his ripply trousers though. “Your dad all set for the Grand Ferret Championships next Saturday, lass?” he asked Kylie.
By this time, I wasn’t the only one who was fascinated by the trouser legs. Bilal had crawled right up to them and was sniffing the left one with enormous interest.
“He sure is, Mr McBain,” Kylie said carefully.
“Tell him I’ll see him then,” Big Matt said. Then he winked and added, “And his ferrets.”
It wasn’t a very friendly wink, somehow. I could see Kylie didn’t like it either.
Then suddenly Big Matt frowned and looked down. “Leave off!” he shouted roughly at Bilal. “Me leg’s all wet!”
“Sorry, Mr McBain,” I said, and I pulled Bilal off and picked him up. The Dog from Hell peered at Bilal and gave a rather pathetic little whimper. When I looked back at the trousers, I saw there was a large damp patch on the left trouser leg. Bilal was licking his lips, and grinning from ear to ear.
Whatever was on Big Matt’s trouser leg, it had fairly taken the taste of the soap bubbles away.
We walked on past as quickly as we could, and as soon as we did Bilal reached out his hands towards Big Matt, and screamed blue murder.
“What was in his trousers?” I asked Kylie, when we were out of earshot.
“Ferrets,” Kylie explained. “Big Matt’s got so many he hasn’t room for them all at home. He keeps some of them on the allotment. He’ll be taking them back with him to get them ready for the Grand Ferret Championship.”
I could see Kylie was upset about meeting Big Matt McBain, so when we got home I gave Bilal back to Mum, and took Kylie upstairs to cheer her up by counting the money we’d earned.
It came to £2.50.
We tried to treble it in our heads, but it kept coming to £75 which we knew was too good to be true, so we went and asked Nani. Nani ran her tongue round her mouth several times and told us the answer was £7.50. And that meant that, altogether, Sita’s Fearless Band of Snake-Warriors had earned £7.56. Which was, as Nani said, better than a kick in the teeth. But it wasn’t enough to get us to Thrill City.
Kylie and I sat together on my bed, with Sita, Snake-Queen of Speed and the mongoose with its cobra, looking down at us; and we looked up at them, hoping for a flash of inspiration.
“That mongoose,” Kylie said at last, “looks a bit like a ferret, don’t you think?”
Then she sighed. “I do hope my dad wins Best in Show next Saturday, Yosser,” she said. “He’s been so close before, but somehow, Big Matt always manages to pip him at the post…”
I felt ever so sorry for her. She had ferrets on the brain.
Then I had an idea. “Tomorrow, Kylie,” I said, putting my arm round her, “you can wear the yellow snake and be Sita, and I’ll be the Humble Vassal, and we’ll try somewhere else.”
“Thanks Yosser,” Kylie said, cheering up a little. “If we just keep looking, we’re bound to find treasure in the end.”
And, you know what, in the end we did. But it wasn’t the kind of treasure we’d had in mind…