Olive of Groves and the Great Slurp of Time Read Online Free Page B

at the mention of love . . . or perhaps it was guilt at being caught in the act of eating Olive’s headband.
    â€˜But the hands!’ shouted Basil. ‘They go backwards !’
    â€˜Yes,’ murmured Olive, starting to grow a little concerned. ‘I already said that.’
    â€˜ Backwards -moving hands!’ he cheered.
    Olive bit her lip and looked sideways at Wordsworth. The grey rat grimaced and rotated his paw beside his head in a gesture meaning, ‘Crazy!’
    â€˜Oh dear,’ sighed Olive. It was troublesome enough that Mrs Groves was bonkers, without having this sweet and charming boy join the club.
    Suddenly, Basil seized her shoulders. His eyes boggled. ‘But don’t you realise what this means?’ he cried, his nose just millimetres from hers. ‘A timepiece whose hands movein an anticlockwise direction is just what I need. It is the perfect tool for travelling back in time. This wonky clock can return me to my home in 1857!’ He frowned. ‘But there is no fun in that. Mama will just make me finish my chores.’ His eyes sparkled and he grinned once more. ‘But I don’t have to go home just now. We could use this clock to take us back to yesterday, back to ancient Greece . . . back to wherever we wish to go in time !’
    Wordsworth went cross-eyed, then held an imaginary towel either side of his head, pulling it back and forth between his ears while making a squeaky cleaning noise.
    Olive giggled, but Basil shook her shoulders again. ‘I can take you with me, if you like. Back to any time in history . . . any time you like .’
    The smile dropped from Olive’s face. ‘Are you serious ?’ she whispered. ‘You can take us with you?’
    Wordsworth stood up on his hind legs and stared.
    Basil smiled. ‘To any time at all.’
    And then, dear reader, Olive said something that took everyone – including myself, quite frankly – by surprise.
    â€˜Would you like a blueberry mini muffin?’
    After they had each had two blueberry mini muffins (except for Fumble, who ate two pairs of Olive’s socks by mistakebecause they looked round and delicious and muffiny, in a blurry sort of way), Basil exclaimed, ‘Let me explain the mysteries of time travel!’
    Olive and her friends leaned forward. Their eyes grew wide. The room fell silent as they held their breath.
    Unfortunately, Pigg McKenzie also leaned forward. His piggy little eyes also grew wide. His snorting, snuffling sinuses were quietened as he also held his breath. The Vile Pig had followed Basil, unbeknown, up the spiral staircase and was now crouched just outside Olive’s door, eavesdropping.
    Pigg McKenzie was Hatching a Plan. A Plan So Wicked it would make your nasal hair stand on end and your toenails curl, were I to divulge it.
    So I will not.
    At least, not now.
    I have to divulge it sooner or later, obviously, or this would turn out to be the most unsatisfactory story ever written when, in reality, it is the most fascinating cliffhanger of a tale that it will be your good fortune ever to read.
    â€˜Let me explain the mysteries of time travel!’ said Basil. ‘I will hold the wonky silver alarm clock and say to where I would like to travel back in time. Anyone nearby will be drawn with me into a time vortex and spat out the otherend.’ He paused for a moment to let this information sink in. ‘When I wish to return to the present, I will hold my own miniature cuckoo clock, on which the hands move in the regular fashion, and say to where I would like to travel forward in time.’ He nodded to each of them in turn, then summarised, ‘Simply put: backwards-moving timepiece for travel backwards in time; forward-moving timepiece for travel forward in time.’
    â€˜Is that it?’ asked Blimp, licking a muffin crumb off the corner of Chester’s mouth. ‘Doesn’t sound mysterious at all.’
    â€˜Just