Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4 By the time Charlie made it back to the coach, some of the chaos had died down. 'Here he is!' Miss Fyre called into the coach when she caught sight of Charlie tramping across the car park. 'Where on earth have you been?' Miss Fyre snapped. 'You're lucky we didn't leave you here! We were due to set off ages ago.'

AUTHOR'S NOTE II I apologize for interrupting this story once again. According to the publisher of this book, my pictures 'lack any artistic merit' and are 'frankly more than a little disturbing'. If you recall, this is exactly what they said about the famous artist Van Gogh. The 'publisher' continued by insisting I apologize publicly to the 'illustrator' Sarah Horne and give the job back to her – together with a pay rise – or they will not publish this book. So: Dear Sarah, I'm soooooo sorry I was rude about your pictures. You are sooooooo super-talented. Honestly. I hope you enjoy your pay-rise to three pounds fifty a day. Yours, Sam Copeland The Writer (the one with the actual talent)

P.S. Don't think you'll be getting any more free bananas. Anyway. Back to the story.

CHAPTER 4 (again) By the time Charlie made it back to the coach, some of the chaos had died down. 'Here he is!' Miss Fyre called into the coach when she caught sight of Charlie tramping across the car park. 'Where on earth have you been?' Miss Fyre snapped. 'You're lucky we didn't leave you here! We were due to set off ages ago.' Charlie grimaced. In no way did he think he was lucky. Mr Wind was sitting on the front passenger seat, wrapped in a silver foil blanket. Miss Fyre was massaging his temples to help him with the shock. Charlie walked down the now-moving coach and saw Dylan. He was staring out the window, pale-

faced and trembling ever so slightly, but when he caught sight of Charlie, he glared at him. 'I know it was you!' Dylan whispered, in a voice dripping with fury. 'What?' said Charlie innocently. 'Oh, don't even try to pretend! YOU were the crocodile! It was YOU who tried to eat me.' 'I don't know what you're talking about,' said Charlie. 'Fine! Play it that way. But don't think you've got the better of me, McGuffin. I've already started a plan to destroy you and there's nothing you can do about it. You'll regret the day we ever crossed paths.' 'Dylan, I already regret the day we crossed paths,' sighed Charlie. 'Very funny. Well, you won't be laughing for long.' 'I'm sure I– hang on. What's that you're wearing?' 'It's a skirt, McGuffin, OK? My trousers got ripped, as you know full well, and there were no spare trousers. So I'm wearing a skirt. And mark my words, this skirt isn't going to improve relations between us. On the contrary. I'm going to ruin you because of this skirt. Destroy you. I'm every nightmare you've ever had. I'm your worst dream come true. I'm everything you've ever been afraid of.'

'Dylan, have you been watching horror movies again? Seriously, you should stop.' 'Get out of my sight.' Charlie left Dylan stewing in his skirt, and saw Mohsen waving to him from the back seat. As he bounced down the coach, all he could hear was excitable chatter about the escaped crocodile. Charlie flumped down in between Wogan and Mohsen, who listened in wide-eyed silence as Charlie told them of his escape from the crocodile compound. 'Holy rollers, that is AWESOME,' said Mohsen. 'That really is awesome, Charlie. That is nearly as awesome as when Mohsen got the whistle stuck up his nose.' 'That actually really wasn't that awesome,' replied Mohsen. 'My left nostril whistled for days and I had