Read Icefire for Free Online Page B

ought to tell Lucy you’ve got her hairbrush, too, but …” He stopped and a wicked grin lit up his face. “But why don’t we play a little trick on her instead?”
    A-row?
went Bonnington.
    “Watch,” David whispered, and he drew a little face on the end of the brush, then wrote “My name is Spikey” along the handle. He put the brush back andpulled the branches over it. Bonnington gave him a short, sharp stare. “You started it,” said David. And he dusted off his trousers and squelched back to the house.
    He was met at the kitchen door by Liz. “And what exactly have
you
been doing?” Her gaze dropped straight to his mud-clogged feet.
    “Erm, I was helping Bonnington….”
    “Don’t you go indicting my cat, young man. I’m sure he didn’t willingly drag you around the garden, messing up your shoes with half a ton of dirt.”
    “He’s a kleptomaniac.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “He swipes things and stores them down in the garden. He’s got a hiding hole near the tree.”
    Liz pursed her lips. Leaning sideways into the kitchen, she grabbed an old toothbrush from a jar of utensils and slapped it into David’s hand. “Clean those shoes with the hose outside. Don’t come in till they’re spotless, or else. Honestly, calling my Bonnington a thief.” She sighed.
    “He’s a villain!” David shouted. “A tabby desperado!”
You’ll find out,
he muttered in his thoughts,
when I send Lucy on her hedgehog hunt.
    But the moment wasn’t right for that. So David scrubbed his shoes clean and left them just inside the kitchen door to dry, then kindly presented Bonnington the toothbrush for his collection.
    He was heading to his room when he found two letters propped up against the microwave. Both were addressed to him. He ripped the first open and groaned.
    “If that’s the bank telling you you’re overdrawn, I advise you to keep it quiet,” said Liz, sweeping in from the hall just then. “You owe me nearly two weeks’ rent.”
    David winced. It was indeed a letter from the bank reminding him he owed
them
quite a bit more than two weeks’ rent. He tore the second letter open. “Oh.”
    “Oh?” said Liz. “ ‘Oh, good’? Or ‘oh, not so good’?”
    “Not sure,” said David, slipping into a chair. “It’s a letter from a publisher.”

8
T HE H UNT FOR S PIKEY
     
    It’s from a woman at Apple Tree Publishing,” he said, “the last people I sent
Snigger
to.”
    “Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” said Liz. “What does she have to say?”
    David folded back the letter and read: “ ‘Dear Mr. Rain, thank you for sending us
Snigger and the Nutbeast.
While I do not feel this story is currently right for our list, I nevertheless enjoyed its freshness and charm and think, with a little work, that your style might be developed for today’s children’s market.’ Is she telling me I’m old-fashioned or what?”
    “Don’t be so negative. What else did she write?”
    “Not much. ‘I wondered if you would like to drop into my office sometime and have an informal chatover coffee? Please call and make an appointment blah blah. Yours sincerely, Dilys Whutton.’ “
    “Gosh, how exciting. Coffee with a publisher. That’s a step forward.”
    “Dilys Whutton? She sounds older than my grandmother.”
    “Which means she’ll have a lot of experience, doesn’t it? You get on your phone and call her. If Lucy finds out you passed up this chance, your name will be mud. Speaking of which.”
    “I did them.” David pointed to the mud-free zone that was his shoes.
    “No, I meant …” Liz nodded at the door, just as Lucy breezed in crying, “Mom, the bear’s gone flat! Can I wish for more snow?”
    “No. Now G’reth is kilned, he belongs to David.”
    Lucy pouted and turned to the tenant. “Wish for more snow for me. Please?”
    David shook his head. “I think Lorel’s gone into hibernation, don’t you?”
    Lucy’s eyes lit up at once. “Was Lorel the
bear?”
    “Hmm,