The sun was just above the horizon and Davey was already on his way to the beach. He was on foot today, lugging the big old umbrella and dressed in Granddad’s faded floppy cricket hat and one of Steve’s old shirts with sleeves and a collar.
He probably looked like a mini-Mudge, but he didn’t care. He was on a mission. He didn’t even have time to tell Sunil – he’d have to catch up with his best friend down at the beach later.
As he approached the entry to the beach car park, he spotted a figure approaching from his left. Mikey! he thought instantly, but when he looked again, he could see it was nothing like his doppelganger. The figure was at least a head taller and quite a bit bulkier.
Davey looked harder. The person was carrying something. A beach umbrella like his own.
Then it came to him. He’d recognise that galumphing gait anywhere. Mo Clouter. And if Davey wasn’t mistaken, the great pumpkinhead was carrying a metal detector.
Mo met him in the car park. ‘Shorty!’ he shouted. ‘Nice outfit. Is that your granddad’s?’ He laughed.
Davey ignored the question. ‘Clouter! Off in search of treasure, are you?’ By now, Davey was certain the whole treasure story was a myth. That map was definitely a fake.
‘You bet! And I’m gonna find it, too! You guys are gonna be sorry!’ Mo was punching the air.
Davey was about to tell Mo what he thought of the whole treasure thing when he suddenly had a brainwave. ‘I know something you don’t know,’ he said instead.
Mo stopped in his tracks. ‘What? Do you know where it is?’
‘Maybe . . .’ He grinned knowingly.
‘Where? Where? Tell me and you can have half the treasure – nah, a quarter, maybe.’ Mo waved the metal detector in the air. ‘After all, I’ve got this!’
‘Oka-a-a-ay.’ Davey was thinking on his feet. ‘Follow me.’
He strode off in the direction of the sandhills, dragging his old umbrella behind him. Mo dashed after him, puffing loudly.
‘I’ll tell you when to crank up the metal detector,’ Davey said when they reached the sandhills. ‘Now, stick with me.’ He began to search for the clump of bushes he’d seen Mikey near the day before. But now he realised the sandhills were full of clumps of bushes. He’d never noticed that before.
After ten minutes, Mo was starting to grumble. ‘We’re walking round in circles! I thought you knew where it was!’
‘I do. Just need to find the spot.’ Davey stopped to think. Probably his only chance would be to go down to the beach and retrace his steps from that direction.
‘Okay, let’s try this . . .’ He headed east in the direction of the beach. At the top of a big sandhill, he surveyed the scene. The sun had risen higher and sand and sea glistened like gold and silver. A handful of people were already there, splashing in the shallows. A sprinkling of surfers bobbed beyond the breakers, where sea and sky seemed to merge into one. It was going to be the kind of perfect day when anything was possible, Davey decided. Anything . . .
He ran down the side of the hill onto the beach.
‘Stop! Shorty! Where are you going?’ Mo yelled, running after him.
Finally Davey came to a halt. This was about where the lifeguard’s tent was pitched the day before. He turned and began to walk back towards the sandhills. And this was the track he’d taken when he’d headed for home after being banned from the beach.
Mo shadowed him, complaining all the while. ‘This is stupid!’ Davey heard him hiss, as they made their way up the beach again.
At the foot of the sandhills, Davey spotted a clump of bushes just ahead. ‘Okay, Clouter, crank up the metal detector!’ he said.
Mo fumbled with the thing and found the switch. He turned it on. Nothing happened.
‘Okay, start detecting,’ Davey said.
Mo began to sweep the head of the metal detector above the sand as if he was vacuuming. Davey had to stifle a giggle. Mo Clouter vacuuming!
‘This way,’ Davey said, leading Mo in the direction of the clump of bushes.
Mo kept sweeping, Davey now at his side. Suddenly Davey heard something. It was a beep. He looked down at the screen on Mo’s detector. A row of green lights flashed. And the closer they came to the bushes, the more lights lit up.
‘We’ve found something!’ Mo shouted. ‘Shorty! We’ve done it!’
They made their way around the clump of bushes. On the other side, the beeping was continuous and all the green lights flashed.
Davey stopped in his tracks. ‘It’s here,’ he said, pointing into the bushes.
Mo tossed the detector onto the sand. They both dropped to their knees and started pulling away leaves and twigs.
Then Davey spotted it. A black handle. He reached in, grabbed it and tugged. The bag came out, its weight enough to throw him backwards. Now Davey was under the bag.
Mo jumped on top in a rush to get the bag open.
‘Get off, Clouter!’ Davey used all his strength to push upwards and Mo fell into the sand.
Davey wriggled free. Now back on his knees, he found the bag’s zipper and tugged it open.
‘Treasure!’ Mo yelled, so loudly a nearby seagull flew off in fright.
‘Trophies,’ Davey said. He held one up for Mo to see.
‘Trophies?’ Mo looked downcast, but then his eyes lit up. ‘Can we sell ’em, do you think?’
Davey shook his head. ‘Nope. They’re Bella’s. Or at least, some of them are.’
He looked down at the trophy in his hand. Engraved on the little plaque was the name ‘Bella Ferosi’.
He pulled another trophy out of the bag. It was also for Bella. So was the next.
Davey found six trophies for Bella before he came to a trophy with no name on it. Obviously Bella had pre-won a whole bunch of awards already.
‘Trust Bella,’ he said. ‘But she is the best at just about everything.’
‘Yeah, except finding treasure.’ Mo picked up his metal detector and waved it in the air again. ‘I’m the best treasure-hunter round here,’ he said proudly.
‘That’s for sure,’ Davey said, slapping Mo on the back. ‘Best treasure-hunter there is.’