I Think My Dad Is a Spy Read Online Free Page B

“I’m still confused though. What were you doing under the kitchen window in the first place?”
    Now I was confused, didn’t he just hear what I said?
    Dad was looking at me suspiciously and I could tell he was trying to read my expressions.
    I did my best to keep a blank look on my face but it was hard. I couldn’t help but feel I had the words ‘liar, liar, pants on fire’ written boldly across my forehead. I felt a lump grow in my throat. I tried swallowing but it was too dry, instead I just gagged and made a choking sound.
    Luckily Chelsea felt sympathetic; she rushed to my aid and helped me onto my feet. Dad, however, didn’t move a muscle. He just looked down his nose at me crossly with his arms folded tightly.
    â€œ This still doesn’t explain anything Sophie. To be under the kitchen window you must have run directly past the front door, which is where you would need to go to get your bag. Yet, you were around the side of the house. So, what were you doing there exactly?” Dad asked me suspiciously.
    Chelsea interrupted him and told him to drop the silly subject and to help get me inside to be cleaned up.
    After a lot of whining and crying about my ruined jeans, sprained ankle and bleeding arm, they shuffled me into the house and sat me down at the kitchen table. As soon as Chelsea left the room to fetch the antiseptic for my ‘grazed’ arm, Dad began firing a bazillion questions at me, like:
    â€œHow long were you under the window?”
    â€œWhy didn’t you come straight into the front door?”
    â€œDid you see or hear anything that maybe you shouldn’t have?”
    I was being grilled and it was pretty scary. Dad sure knew how to interrogate somebody. I started to panic, but lucky for me his mobile phone rang just in time.
    That’s when a really odd thing happened, after Dad answered ‘hello’ his voice sounded angry. “Why are you calling me?” he spat as he darted out the front door so fast he looked like a blur.
    A few seconds later Chelsea scurried back into the kitchen with her usual bright cheery smile but it quickly fell away when she asked where Dad had gone. Then when I told her that he took an important phone call outside, her face turned red with fury.
    â€œTHAT’S IT!” she screamed. She slammed the first aid box down so hard the lid flew open causing the cotton balls and band-aids to scatter across the kitchen table.

Journal entry:
Saturday, 8:32pm

    The giant oak tree at the park was our hangout and it had been for years. Janice’s brother had spread a rumour around the town that it was haunted so other kids wouldn’t go near it. The tree was over a hundred years old, with a giant split at the base which meant you could walk inside the hollow tree. It was quite a large space as far as tree rooms go; it was almost the entire size of my bathroom.
    Janice’s brother Damian and his friends had already done the hard work for us. They had dragged in logs, stumps and a tree branch for us to use as chairs and tables; it was the best hangout ever.
    By the time I finally arrived at the oak tree I was fifteen minutes late. Janice was already in a bad mood as she hated to be kept waiting. She quickly changed her mind as soon as I showed her the band-aids on my arm and I told her how I got them. I also described the rest of m y morning which finished with Dad getting another weird phone call and then Chelsea losing the plot.
    â€œOMG Sophie, are they going to split up?” Janice asked.
    â€œI don’t know, but it’s not looking too good. Dad is definitely up to something and I have to find out what it is soon or they just might be heading for splitsville.”
    â€œMaybe that isn’t a bad thing; at least you’ll have Michael McClain out of your life forever?”
    Janice had a point, Chelsea’s son was a real pain in the butt and the thought of him becoming my step-brother made