Operation Eiffel Tower Read Online Free Page B

They didn’t actually need anything; they just wanted to see if their note would fool Mrs Khalid. He looked down at his shoes; he couldn’t look Mrs Khalid in the eye.
    ‘Er,’ Ruby stammered, ‘a Mars Bar ice cream and some tinfoil, please.’
    Tinfoil? Jack flashed a look at Ruby and she shrugged helplessly.
    Mrs Khalid picked out the things and rang them through the till at the front of the shop. ‘Do you need a bag, Ruby?’
    Ruby shook her head. ‘It can go in the bottom of the pram,’ she said seriously.
    ‘Of course. That will be two pounds eighty, please,’ Mrs Khalid said.
    This was it. This was the moment of truth. Would Mrs Khalid be fooled or would she be furious? Jack couldn’t bear to look as Ruby handed over her note.
    For a moment there was silence.
    Then Mrs Khalid started to chuckle.
    Then she laughed. Then she howled. ‘Oh, Ruby Dempsey, you are a wonder!’ she said. ‘Did you make this? You almost fooled me. You could be a master counterfeiter!’ Mrs Khalid wiped tears from her eyes. ‘Oh, keep the ice cream. And the tinfoil. But you can take this money back. Hah! You’ve made my morning, you really have.’
    ‘Thanks, Mrs Khalid,’ Jack muttered.
    Mrs Khalid sobered up a little; her expression wasn’t quite so kind when she looked at Jack. ‘You’re old enough to know better,’ she said.
    ‘Yes, Mrs Khalid. Sorry, Mrs Khalid,’ Jack said.
    As they left the shop, Jack heard Mrs Khalid pick up the phone and dial. ‘Oh, Maisha, you’ll never believe what just happened!’ she said.
    Jack shook his head. This would be around the whole town in minutes. Why hadn’t he thought of that?
    Ruby dragged the pram behind her; she didn’t speak. She handed the ice cream to Jack and held the tinfoil tightly to her chest.
    ‘Why did you get tinfoil?’ Jack asked.
    ‘I dunno. It was the first thing I thought of.’
    ‘Never mind,’ Jack said. ‘I’m sure we can think of another way to raise money.’

Chapter 8
    To: [email protected]
    From: [email protected]
    Subject: Blisters on my blisters!
     
    Dear Jack,
    What do you call a squaddie in a hedge?
    Privet.
    LOL! On the outside I may have the body of a weak and knackered new recruit, but inside I’m still God’s own gift to comedy! Actually, it’s a good job I have a career as a comedian to fall back on, cos my dreams of being Britain’s Next Top Foot Model have gone up in smoke. How can you get trench foot if you’ve never even been in a trench? That’s what I want to know. I asked the Corporal and he just gave me some athlete’s foot powder. I’ll let you know whether it works, or whether I’m turning into the Creature from the Black Lagoon, with webbed toes and gammy skin. Yum.
    So, in your last email you asked how much it costs to buy a fancy meal for two. Why? Is there some young lady in your life that I should know about? Someone you want to impress?
    Well, if she’s not all that, you could get away with spending £10 in McDonald’s. But if you really want something a bit more fancy, then £40 should do it. Any more than that and she’d better be Beyoncé Knowles at the very least!
    I hope that helps. Write again soon. I miss you all. I want to know what you’re all up to. The thing about the army is it makes you feel like you’re in a bubble – like a different world. It’s easy to forget how things used to be. It seems like years since we played Snap in a den built of duvets. Do you remember that? It was only last summer. Feels like a lifetime ago.
    Keep safe, God bless,
    Paul
     
    Jack closed the email. He hoped Paul was OK. Did he sound a bit sad? It was hard to tell. And £40 for a meal! As well as £200 to get to Paris in the first place. He didn’t need his calculator to tell him that their jam jar didn’t have anywhere near enough in it. The golf competition might help, but they also needed a Plan B. And a Plan C. And maybe even a Plan D, E and F too.

Chapter 9
    Ruby had dumped the