Squishy Taylor in Zero Gravity Read Online Free Page B

horribly guilty.
    Squishy Taylor to the rescue. ‘Our cousin does live on the fifth floor,’ I say, ‘but he’s not cute, he’s gross. ’
    We have to get out of here before Pyjama Man asks any more tricky questions.
    I grab Vee’s hand and pull her out the door. We tumble down the stairs and head for home.
    Vee looks a bit disappointed. ‘We didn’t see the rocket,’ she says.
    I don’t really mind. ‘That’s OK,’ I say. ‘Now we know the way to the roof for next time.’

That evening, Jessie interrupts my skype with Mum on the couch.
    ‘Sorry, Devika, I need Squishy,’ she says, pulling at my shoulder.
    ‘Bye, Mum!’ I call.
    Jessie tugs me into our room. The sparks have started again – showering off the roof across the road. We huddle around Vee, who’s already watching at the window.
    ‘We need to get up there now ,’ Vee says, ‘while she’s making the sparks.’
    I nod. And then shake my head. ‘Dad and Alice will never let us.’
    ‘You’re right,’ Jessie says. ‘And you know what? We don’t actually need to be there to find things out. What do we already know about her?’
    Jessie gets her notebook and coloured pens (in perfect rainbow order) and we sprawl on our bedroom floor together. I lean my chin on my elbows, watching her write.
    • She makes sparks.
    • The sparks happen between dinnertime and 10 o’clock.
    • She hides what she’s doing.
    ‘She’s a spacewoman,’ I say.
    Jessie groans. ‘Squishy, she’s not a spacewoman.’
    I grin. ‘OK, maybe an alien.’
    Jessie hits my shoulder with her pen.
    ‘ Ow ,’ I say and then get serious. ‘But she was wearing an astronaut’s helmet that first night, wasn’t she, Vee?’
    Vee nods, so Jessie writes:
    • She wears a form of protective helmet.
    This is the thing about Jessie. Just when you think she’s fun, she starts using boring grown-up words.
    ‘What else?’ Jessie asks.
    ‘I wish we could get out while she’s working ,’ I say, looking over at the sparks flying in the night.
    But between dinner and 10 o’clock is the hardest time to sneak away from Dad and Alice.

    On Friday, Saturday and Sunday, we keep a close eye on the building whenever we can. Jessie scans the tele-pad every night before bed. Once it’s dark, the camera app doesn’t really record very much. Jessie scrolls through the footage she’s taken from dawn till dark every day.
    Spacewoman never leaves the building.
    We see Pyjama Man lots of times, going in and out in his pyjamas. But we never see a red-headed spacewoman. Even on the weekend. And yet some nights we still see sparks on the roof.
    Every day it gets creepier and creepier. We have to find out what she’s doing.
    It’s not until Monday night that Dad and Alice go to bed early enough for us to sneak out.
    ‘Shh,’ I say with my ear against our bedroom door. ‘I think they’re in bed.’ We wait a few more minutes and then crack open the door.
    My schoolbag is on the kitchen floor. I take a big step over it and Jessie follows. Behind me there’s a noise. I turn to see Vee, who has tripped on the schoolbag. She bumps into the bench and knocks the wok sideways into a teacup, which falls and smashes on the tiles.
    Three seconds of horror later, Alice flicks on the light. ‘ What is going on ?’
    ‘Um, we were just –’ I start.
    But Alice doesn’t let me finish. ‘Squishy Taylor, why are you even talking right now?’
    ‘You asked us a question,’ I say. Which is a perfectly reasonable answer.
    Sometimes Alice can be really sarcastic. ‘Well, I’m sorry for confusing you,’ she says in a super-mean voice. Then she snaps, ‘What I meant was, go to bed . This very second.’
    ‘Well you should have said that,’ I say sulkily.
    ‘Stop talking right now, Squishy,’ Alice says, gripping my shoulder with sharp fingers and pointing me at the bedroom.
    Why is she being horrible to me and not the others? But I realise, as soon as I’ve turned around, that they’ve