Cirque Du Freak. Darren Shan

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      THE FREAK show was all I could think about that night. I tried forgetting it but couldn’t, not even when I was watching my favourite TV shows. It sounded so weird: a snake-boy, a Wolf Man, a performing spider. I was especially excited by the spider.

      Mum and Dad didn’t notice anything was up, but Annie did. Annie is my younger sister. She can be a bit annoying but most of the time she’s cool. She doesn’t run to Mum telling tales if I misbehave, and she knows how to keep a secret.

      “What’s wrong with you?” she asked after dinner. We were alone in the kitchen, washing up.

      “Nothing’s wrong,” I said.

      “Yes there is,” she said. “You’ve been behaving funny all night.”

      I knew she’d keep asking until she got the truth, so I told her about the freak show.

      “It sounds great,” she agreed, “but there’s no way you’d get in.”

      “Why not?” I asked.

      “I bet they don’t let children in. It sounds like a grown-up sort of show.”

      “They probably wouldn’t let a brat like you in,” I said nastily, “but me and the others would be OK.” That upset her, so I apologised. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean that. I’m just annoyed because you’re probably right. Annie, I’d give anything to go!”

      “I’ve got a make-up kit I could lend you,” she said. “You can draw on wrinkles and stuff. It’d make you look older.”

      I smiled and gave her a big hug, which is something I don’t do very often. “Thanks, sis,” I said, “but it’s OK. If we get in, we get in. If we don’t, we don’t.”

      We didn’t say much after that. We finished drying and hurried into the TV room. Dad got back home a few minutes later. He works on building sites all over the place, so he’s often late. He’s grumpy sometimes but was in a good mood that night and swung Annie round in a circle.

      “Anything exciting happen today?” he asked, after he’d said hello to Mum and given her a kiss.

      “I scored another hat trick at lunch,” I told him.

      “Really?” he said. “That’s great. Well done.”

      We turned the TV down while Dad was eating. He likes peace and quiet when he eats, and often asks us questions or tells us about his day at work.

      Later, Mum went to her room to work on her stamp albums. She’s a serious stamp collector. I used to collect too, when I was younger and more easily amused.

      I popped up to see if she had any new stamps with exotic animals or spiders on them. She hadn’t. While I was there, I sounded her out about freak shows.

      “Mum,” I said, “have you ever been to a freak show?”

      “A what?” she asked, concentrating on the stamps.

      “A freak show,” I repeated. “With bearded ladies and wolf-men and snake-boys.”

      She looked up at me and blinked. “A snake-boy?” she asked. “What on Earth is a snake-boy?”

      “It’s a…” I stopped when I realised I didn’t know. “Well, that doesn’t matter,” I said. “Have you ever been to one?”

      She shook her head. “No. They’re illegal.”

      “If they weren’t,” I said, “and one came to town, would you go?”

      “No,” she said, shivering. “Those sorts of things frighten me. Besides, I don’t think it would be fair on the people in the show.”

      “What do you mean?” I asked.

      “How would you like it,” she said, “if you were stuck in a cage for people to look at?”

      “I’m not a freak!” I said huffily.

      “I know,” she laughed, and kissed the top of my head. “You’re my little angel.”

      “Mum, don’t!” I grumbled, wiping my forehead with my hand.

      “Silly,” she smiled. “But imagine you had two heads or four arms, and somebody stuck you on show for people to make fun of. You wouldn’t like that, would you?”

      “No,” I said, shuffling my feet.

      “Anyway, what’s all this about a freak show?” she asked. “Have you been staying up late, watching horror films?”

      “No,” I said.

      “Because you know your Dad doesn’t like you watching—”

      “I wasn’t staying up late, OK?” I shouted. It’s really annoying when parents don’t listen.

      “OK, Mister Grumpy,” she said. “No need to shout. If you don’t like my company, go downstairs and help your father weed the garden.”

      I didn’t want to go, but Mum was upset that I’d shouted at her, so I left and went down to the kitchen. Dad was coming in from the back and spotted me.

      “So this is where you’ve been hiding,” he chuckled. “Too busy to help the old man tonight?”

      “I was on my way,” I told him.

      “Too late,” he said, taking off his wellies. “I’m finished.”

      I watched him putting on his slippers. He has huge feet. He takes size 12 shoes! When I was younger, he used to stand me on his feet and walk me around. It was like being on two long skateboards.

      “What are you doing now?” I asked.

      “Writing,” he said. My dad has pen pals all over the world, in America, Australia, Russia and China. He says he likes to keep in touch with his global neighbours, though I think it’s just an excuse to go into his study for a nap!

      Annie was playing with dolls and stuff. I asked if she wanted to come to my room for a game of bed-tennis using a sock for a ball, and shoes for rackets, but she was too busy arranging her dolls for a pretend picnic.

      I went to my room and dragged down my comics. I have loads of cool comics, Superman, Batman, Spiderman and Spawn. Spawn’s my favourite. He’s a superhero who used to be a demon in Hell. Some of the Spawn comics are quite scary but that’s why I love them.

      I spent the rest of the night reading comics and putting them in order. I used to swap with Tommy, who has a huge collection, but he kept spilling drinks on the covers and crumbs between the pages, so I stopped.

      Most nights I go to bed by ten, but Mum and Dad forgot about me, and I stayed up until nearly half-past ten. Then Dad saw the light in my room and came up. He pretended to be cross but he wasn’t really. Dad doesn’t mind too much if I stay up late. Mum’s the one who nags СКАЧАТЬ