Operation Eiffel Tower Read Online Free

haven’t got anything worth selling,’ Lauren said.
    Jack unscrewed the lid of Lauren’s jam jar and scooped his coins inside. ‘We could get a lottery ticket and win the jackpot. Or I could become a pro golfer and earn a fortune.’
    Lauren grinned. ‘Think you’re ready to beat Tiger Woods, do you?’
    ‘Jack can beat anyone!’ Ruby said.
    Jack peeled the label off the jam jar. It left behind a thin layer of white paper glued to the glass. He took a pen from his desk and wrote ‘Paris Fund’ on the jar.
    ‘If I asked William,’ Jack said slowly, ‘if I asked him really nicely, he might hold a competition. Like a real Open. If we charge people to enter, there could be prizes – cash prizes. Then all I have to do is win!’
    Lauren nodded slowly. ‘Don’t let this go to your head, but you are pretty good. Would William go for it?’
    Jack nodded. ‘Of course he would. We could make loads of money!’
    ‘It could work,’ Lauren said. ‘It could actually work.’

Chapter 5
    There was still just enough time before tea for Jack to go and visit William. There were hardly any players left on the course – most of them would be back at their hotels eating scampi and chips. Jack could hear the whine of a kettle on a gas stove coming from William’s hut; he was taking a tea break. Jack knocked on the door.
    ‘We’re closed,’ William growled from inside the hut.
    ‘I know. It’s me. I’ve had a genius idea,’ Jack said.
    ‘Humph!’
    Jack heard William pour the water, then stir in the milk and sugar before he finally came over to the door. William’s white hair had that ‘just out of bed’ look that Lauren spent hours doing sometimes. Jack was pretty certain that William hadn’t spend hours on his version of it.
    ‘Evening!’ Jack said. ‘Wouldn’t it be amazing if we had an Open Championship here? We could charge everyone to enter, and give everyone scorecards, and they’d play the holes and keep score, and at the end the winner could win the entry money.’
    ‘Evening,’ William said. He took a sip of his tea. ‘Say that again, much slower.’
    Jack grinned. ‘An Open Championship. We could have one.’
    William rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Jack could hear the rasping of his fingers against stubble. ‘Hmm. We could, I suppose.’
    ‘Woo-hoo!’ Jack punched the air. ‘Can we do it on Saturday? In the afternoon? If we put posters up tonight, that should be enough time for people to know about it. Can first prize be two hundred pounds?’
    William spluttered into his tea. ‘Two hundred pounds! Do you think I’m made of money? No, it can’t be two hundred pounds. Top prize fifty pounds, second prize twenty-five. And two pounds to enter. That should work. If forty people enter, I’ll make five pounds.’ William shook his head. ‘I’d best not think about that, otherwise I’ll talk myself out of it. Do you want to make a sign? I’ve still got some of that paint we used on the Golden Gate Bridge somewhere. And I suppose Mrs Khalid might photocopy some flyers for us.’
    Jack nodded. Fifty pounds wouldn’t get Mum and Dad to Paris, but it would be a great start.

Chapter 6
    That night, Jack woke suddenly. He stared up at the ceiling. His glow-stars had faded and moonlight the colour of sour milk spilled across it.
    Noises seeped up through the floorboards. Dad yelled something, Mum shouted back. Then sobs, Mum crying. Another yell. Jack closed his eyes, trying to lose himself in sleep again. But the shouts were sharp as paper-cuts, slicing through the air.
    He pulled his pillow round so that it covered his face. He was hot and sweaty under its weight, but it muffled the noises. There was a small pocket of air to breathe, though he could feel it getting warmer with each breath. Soon it was mostly carbon dioxide. Jack turned his head, found more air. He rested his arm on top of the pillow, pushing it against his ears. The feathers inside crackled like burning embers. Jack hummed