Big Change for Stuart Read Online Free

long word at the time, and didn’t notice.’
    His mother smiled, but the worried look remained. ‘The thing is,’ she said, ‘I’ve just been asked if I can go to a conference in Singapore. It’s very last minute – I’d be replacing a colleague who’s ill, and I’d be away for nearly ten days. And I’d have to fly out tomorrow afternoon.’
    She looked at him anxiously. ‘Would that be all right?’
    â€˜Of course it would.’
    â€˜Can you and Dad manage?’
    â€˜Of course we can. I mean, we’ll
miss
you, but—’
    â€˜Will you eat proper healthy meals and not just pick at whatever’s in the fridge?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜And change your clothes sometimes?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜And go to bed at a reasonable time?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜And if you go out during the day, will you stick with friends and leave notes for Dad so he knows where you are?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜Because if you only
tell
him things, he forgets. You have to write it down.’
    â€˜I know.’
    She bit her lip, undecided.
    â€˜Don’t worry, Mum,’ said Stuart. ‘We’ll be absolutely
fine
.’

THE NEXT MORNING he got to the museum early and was walking in small, impatient circles outside the main entrance when the caretaker turned up at ten past nine, shortly followed by the curator.
    â€˜Don’t forget your official identification,’ said Rod Felton, and Stuart pinned on his hideous MINI EXPERT badge and then made his way to the side room. Sunlight was streaming through the window.
    â€˜Can you finish those descriptions by midday?’ asked Rod Felton, popping his head round the door. ‘Then we can print them up and laminate them, ready for the exhibition opening tomorrow.’
    Stuart nodded, sure that April would remember a notebook and pen. He checked his watch and frowned. How could she be late when there was so much to do?
    He waited another five minutes. Still no April.
    He got the little six-spoked wheel out of his pocket and studied it intently from every angle, but there was nothing new to see.
    He trudged along to Rod Felton’s office and borrowed some scrap paper and a pencil and – as an afterthought – a tape measure.
    He wrote
THE PHARAOH’S PYRAMID
in large careful letters at the top of the page, and then underlined it. Twice. And then checked his watch yet again.
    It was ten o’clock.
    April was three-quarters of an hour late. She’d said,
Don’t touch anything till I get there
, but if he didn’t, then he wouldn’t be able to describe the tricks properly, and he’d miss Rod Felton’s deadline. And besides, they were
his
tricks, even if he couldn’t actually prove it to anyone. So of course he could touch them if he wanted to.
    â€˜Right then,’ he said out loud, secretly feeling rather pleased. ‘I’ll just have to start on my own …’

    He had to write ‘about’ because (as usual) he was too short to measure it properly.

    He stood on tiptoe, gripped the nearest snake-shaped handle and pulled. The whole triangular side immediately swung down, cracking him on the head; it was hinged at the bottom, he realized, and was heavier than it looked. He lowered the side to the floor, and stood rubbing his skull for a moment, and then he stooped to get a clearer view of the inside of the pyramid.
    It was jet black, so shiny that the varnish still looked wet, and the walls were painted with a scattering of red stars. Stuart took the metal star out of his pocket and held it against one of the painted ones. It was exactly the same size and shape.
    He put the star back in his pocket and walked round the pyramid again. However hard he tugged at the handles on the other three sides, none of them would shift.
    He lifted the first side up again, and it clicked neatly into position, the pyramid complete once