Ben groaned and held his head in both hands until everything stopped spinning.
‘And you’ve turned up just in time,’ Coo said, grabbing Ben and sitting him on a log. She fumbled about in her bag and pulled out a pair of odd-looking boots. ‘Here, put these on.’
‘Er, OK,’ said Ben nervously. Coo’s inventions had a nasty habit of being dangerous, so you can imagine how Ben felt, being a boy who thought mixing two flavours of ice cream was pretty risky.
‘Hmm, not a bad fit,’ Coo said, tightening the buckles of the strange boots.
‘Right, follow me!’
‘Hold on! What are these things? What do they do?’ said Ben, picking up his bag and trotting awkwardly after his hairy friend as she shot off through the woods.
He caught up with her in a clearing a little further on.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Ben. ‘Who are you shouting at?’
‘Oh, just that furry idiot up there. I tell you, sometimes I reckon he’s got all the intelligence of a dim plum.’
Ben’s gaze followed Coo’s pointing finger into the highest branches of a tall silver-grey tree and there, clutching a slim branch and trembling with worry, was Herbert.
‘Wombats are meant to BURROW IN THE GROUND, not CLIMB TREES, you DAFT PUDDING!’ shouted Coo.
‘How are you going to get him down?’ asked Ben, shading his eyes against the glare of the white sky.
‘I’m not.’
‘Eh?’
‘You are.’
‘What? Me? No, I mean, I can’t,’ said Ben. ‘All the way up there? You must be bonkers! Anyway, there’s no way up, how would I even—’
‘Oh, you’ll manage,’ grinned Coo crouching down and pressing a button on Ben’s boots.
Ben shot straight up through the trees, leaving Coo far below.
‘AAARGH! What’s happening?’ Ben screamed, as he came to a sudden shuddering halt. ‘I don’t like it, Coo! Get me down! What’s going on?’
‘Telescopic stilts, spring-loaded,’ shouted Coo. ‘Pretty sweet, eh?’
‘NO!’ wailed Ben. ‘NOT sweet, actually! GET ME DOWN!’
‘Grab Herb!’ Coo shouted.
‘What?’
‘HERBERT! GRAB HIM!’
The skinny branch Herb was clinging to was barely sturdy enough to bear the weight of a beefy sparrow, let alone a fat wombat. It bowed and creaked under the strain and looked likely to snap at any moment.
Ben’s clumpy boots were tricky to walk in, but with a great effort he managed to swing his legs forward and totter over to Herbert.
As soon as Herb saw Ben, his rump began to wag with excitement.
Uh-oh, Ben thought, recognizing the look in Herb’s eye.
‘Now then, Herb, just wait there,’ he said. ‘I’m coming for you … No, no, NO! DON’T—’
Herb jumped.
He landed in Ben’s arms, thumping against him like a furry wrecking ball.
Ben teetered on his long stilts, crashing back and forth through the treetops, desperately trying to keep his balance. He glanced at the ground and gulped. It was a LONG way down.
As he wobbled about, he could just see Coo far below, her hands cupped to her mouth, shouting up at him.
‘Sick … poor … seals!’
‘What?’ Ben was so high up he could barely hear her.
‘Lick … more … eels!’
‘Lick more EELS?’ shouted Ben. ‘What do you mean, lick more eels? How on earth will THAT help?’
‘CLICK … YOUR … HEELS!’ yelled Coo as loud as she could.
‘Oh, HEELS!’ said Ben, finally making sense of it.
He clicked his boots together and, in a flash, the stilts retracted, shrinking Ben back down to ground level and dumping him and Herb on the soft leafy forest floor.
‘Ha-ha! “Lick more eels”? You’re crackers, Ben,’ chuckled Coo as she patted Herb affectionately.
‘CRACKERS? ME? You could have warned me! Ohhh my head. That was horrible.’
‘You were brilliant, Pole. I knew you could do it.’ Coo grinned, punching him on the shoulder. ‘Those Stretch’n’Fetch Superboots worked a treat. I must admit, I had my doubts.’
‘You mean they were untested? I could have been killed!’
‘Well, they’re tested now, aren’t they? You don’t half fuss, Ben,’ said Coo. ‘Herb loved it, didn’t you, Herb? I think he wants another go.’
Ben flopped onto his back to catch his breath. Life was never dull with Coo around.
‘Come on then,’ Coo said, helping him up. ‘You’ve earned yourself a ginger beer.’
CHAPTER THREE
Back at the tree house, Coo lit a fire and soon the hut was as warm as toast. Ben settled on a hammock with Herbert who curled up beside him for a nap.
‘Oh, here, these are for you,’ said Ben, digging a brown paper parcel from his bag.
‘What is it?’ said Coo, weighing the packet suspiciously in her hand.
‘Sausages, apparently,’ chuckled Ben. ‘They’re from Dad.’
‘Er, thanks,’ said Coo, the sausages clinking together as she tipped them into a bowl.
Herb raised his head from his folded paws, sniffed the air, shuddered ever so slightly and turned away.
‘Oh well.’ Coo grinned. ‘Thanks anyway.’
Ben played about with Coo’s ukulele while she poked at the fire with a stick and nibbled a handful of enormous roasted chestnuts.
‘So, Mum started her new job today,’ Ben said, ‘at the museum.’
‘Yeah? Great!’ said Coo. ‘Good timing too. Did y’hear? That Midnight Mob have struck again.’
‘Yeah!’ Ben was impressed. ‘Hold on, how do you know about that?’
‘I live in a tree house, Ben, not on the MOON,’ said Coo with a wry smile. ‘And I’ve got that there too,’ she added, nodding over at an odd-fangled contraption with an enormous horn protruding from the top of it.
‘Is that a … a radio?’ said Ben taking a closer look and twiddling a big wooden knob.
‘Of course it’s a radio,’ said Coo. ‘This IS the twenty-first century, you know.’
‘I’m going to miss this,’ sighed Ben, sitting back on the hammock and scratching Herbert behind the ears. ‘School starts tomorrow. Mum wants me to join an after-school club now that she’s working too. I won’t be able to come over so much.’
‘Well, since it’s the last day of your holidays, how about some ice
