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  BRADDLE

  and the GIANT

  By John Mallon

  Copyright 2012 John Mallon

  All rights reserved

  Cover Image Copyright 2012 Tony Mallon

  All rights reserved

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Dedication

  For Beverley, Christopher, Stevie and Holly.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Acknowledgements & Requests

  Chapter 1

  Five Days To Go

  Alfie Foggle woke himself up early on the last Monday morning of the school year. His dad, for once, didn’t have to do it for him.

  “Oh” his dad said. “You’re up. Good. I’m off to work now. Have a great day at school.”

  “I will” Alfie told him.

  How could he not have a great day today? It would actually be impossible not to have a great day today! You would have to be real stupid like Logan Carmichael not to have a great day today! The last week in school had finally arrived. In five days time, the summer holidays started and, as everyone knew, during the last week in school all work stopped and fun began.

  In the bathroom, he examined himself in the mirror and tried to straighten his brown, curly hair with his fingers but no matter how hard he pressed down on them the curls fluttered back. He gave up and stood on his tip toes. Hopefully, next year I’ll be this big he said to himself. I’ll let Ben be the class midget for a change. He’d be good at it. I’m tired of being little.

  Three And A Half Days To Go

  It was lunch time. The week so far had not gone as expected. Rather than fun, Mrs Gorman had made them do work, actual school work. Alfie felt miserable all morning up until the moment when Mrs Gorman told them that after lunch they were to watch a DVD. 'Finally', he said to himself.

  “What are you doing in the summer Alfie?” asked Jake Jones, his best friend, as they walked across the playground.

  “Don’t know. Not much” said Alfie.

  “Aren’t you going away?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “We’re going to Majorca for two weeks and then I am staying with my grandparents on the south coast after that. Can’t wait.”

  “Sounds good” replied Alfie.

  In reality, though, Jake’s summer didn’t sound that good. Alfie remembered his holiday in Corfu two years previously and shuddered. Flying in an aeroplane maybe exciting from the ground but staying awake until three in the morning to catch one had felt like cement hardening slowly inside his head. Also, the relentless heat everyday made it feel like they were holidaying in his dad’s greenhouse with no opportunity to open a window or a door to let a cooling breeze in. The sunburn on his neck and shoulders, that appeared on the third day like a gift from hell, was so painful he had been convinced that the sun’s rays had penetrated his body and cooked his bones. No, going on holiday wasn’t fun; it was too much hard work.

  A football appeared out of nowhere and struck Jake full in the face. At first, he looked confused and bewildered, as if he had found himself suddenly on the moon, with no means of escape, looking back at the world turning slowly, but then he burst in to tears and ran off to the end of the playground. Alfie spun round to find who had kicked it and saw Logan Carmichael. He was standing with his hands in his pockets looking at him with an expression as if to say ‘Yeah, and…’. Alfie wanted to stride up to him and give him a different expression, preferably the kind you got when someone elbowed you in your stomach. He began to move but, to his shame, not in the direction of Logan Carmichael. Instead, he turned, head down, and ran after Jake.

  Two Days To Go

  “Alfie, come here please” said his mother.

  He went into the kitchen and found his mother searching through the contents of his school bag, which were spread out on the table. From amongst the out of date school letters, carelessly folded worksheets and twisted sweet wrappers she held his home reading book.

  “Alfie, you have not finished your school reader. I asked you to do it last week. Why haven’t you done it?”

  He couldn’t tell her that the book was boring, that reading it was too much hard work, and that, after having had his tea, watched TV and played with Lou, he just hadn’t had the time. His mother, he had learned, didn’t like responses like this, even though they were truthful, and so he simply shrugged his shoulders.

  “How can you learn to read without actually doing some reading?” she asked him. “It doesn’t just happen by itself, you know. Reading is not like your toe nails growing.”

  Alfie looked at her mystified. He had never thought that reading was like toe nails. He had never told anyone that it was. Ever. He didn’t even know what it meant.

  “Well, you’re going to read it now, aloud, to me, here, in the kitchen.”

  “Oh mum. No. School’s finishing in a couple of days. There’s no point. Please.”

  “There’s every point” she said. “I want you to learn how to read. Now sit down and read. The quicker you do it the quicker it’s finished.”

  Alfie, realising that escape was impossible, shoved a dining chair to the side and sat down. He opened the book at the page where his bookmark had previously been abandoned and began to read.

  “Stop mumbling” his mother said. “Read clearly.”

  “He couldn’t move” read Alfie “no matter how hard he tried…”

 

  Ten Minutes To Go

  Alfie sat quietly at his desk waiting patiently for the official start to the summer holidays. His school bag on the desk in front of him bulged with half-filled exercise books, artworks (both paintings and drawings) and pens and pencils of different colours, some still waiting to be used. Only a small patch of velcro prevented the bag from having an accident. Alongside the bag was a giraffe mask that he had made and that had been on the wall since October. Alfie hated it. It did not look like a giraffe. In fact, it did not look like anything. It was just a face with spots and it had been on the wall practically the whole year. Every time he had glanced at it, it always seemed to be complaining to its better looking friends on the wall next to it:

  ‘LOOK AT WHAT THAT USELESS KID HAS DONE TO ME! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?

  “Right, has everybody gathered up their things?” asked Mrs Gorman.

  They all told her they had.

  “Good. Well, the summer break is about to start. I hope that you all have an enjoyable holiday and come back in September refreshed and eager to continue your studies. I have to say, that you have been one of the best classes
I have ever had the pleasure to teach and I am sure that you will be the same for your new teacher, Mr Lynch, when you return.”

  The whole class cheered and said that they would be. There was a tap on his shoulder. It was Logan Carmichael.

  “Foggy, we’ve been discussing it all year and now we’ve just got to know. Your mask…what creature is it? Josh says it’s an elephant whose trunk has fallen off, Ben says it’s a gorilla’s bum but I say it is you.”

  All three burst out laughing. Alfie tried to find something funny and smart to throw back at him but he couldn’t find anything. He never could.

  “It’s…It’s…a giraffe” he said.

  “A giraffe?!”

  His answer only made them laugh even harder.

  “Just ignore them Alfie” said Jake.

  The school bell rang out and everybody jumped up.

  “Follow me children” said Mrs Gorman.

  The class formed a line and followed Mrs Gorman out into the school playground.

  Summer Holidays Start

  His mother and younger sister, Lou, who had just been collected from the infant school next door, were waiting for him outside. Lou was hopping on the hopscotch squares painted on the playground; his mother held a thick wad of drawings and paintings, Lou’s reception artwork, and was talking to Morgan’s mum. Alfie hoped his mother wasn’t making arrangements for him to go round to Morgan’s house. He didn’t like other people’s houses especially Morgan’s. His dog was always under your feet and yelping when you stood on it.

  “Mrs Gorman, my mother is here” said Alfie.

  “Ok Alfie” she replied. “Have a great holiday. Next year I want to hear good reports about you from Mr Lynch. Less of the ‘could try harder’ and more of the ‘did try harder’.”

  “Alright Mrs Gorman. Promise” said Alfie.

  “Hello Alfie” said his mother when he approached her. “Have you said your goodbyes to everyone?”

  Alfie said he had.

  “Let’s go then. Francis will be waiting.”

  Lou ran up to them.

  “Alfie! Alfie! School’s finished! We’re on holiday!” she shouted.

  “I know” he replied.

  “What’s in your hand?” she asked, pointing to the mask.

  “Nothing” he said.

  “Let’s have a look” said his mother.

  Alfie handed it to her.

  “Hmm” said his mother. “I can’t quite make out what it is. What is it?”

  “A giraffe” he replied.

  “A giraffe!” screeched Lou, breaking in to hysterics. “Giraffes don’t look like that!”

  His mother smiled. He could tell that she wanted to laugh too.

  “I’m going” said Alfie, angrily, and he headed towards the gate without waiting for them to follow.

  Six And A Half Hours After The Start Of The Summer Holidays

  “This is going to be a great summer holiday” muttered Alfie to himself, as he sat down angrily on his bed. “There’s no school tomorrow. What’s wrong with watching DVDs and eating popcorn until I’m ready to go to sleep? I bet Jake is allowed.”

  He put his pyjamas on and climbed into bed. This is going to be the worse summer ever, he told himself. With a faint squeak, his bedroom door began to open slowly. He raised himself on his elbows hoping that it was his dad regretting the decision to send him to bed. When the door was half open a face appeared and shouted ‘BOO!’ It was his brother Francis wearing his giraffe mask. Alfie jumped out of bed and ran to him.

  “Go away!” he shouted back, trying to grab the mask.

  His brother handed it to him anyway and started to laugh.

  “Great mask Alfie” he said “just like your real face.”

  Alfie studied the mask after his brother had gone back downstairs.

  “You’re going to have to go” he said to it. “You’ve caused me enough embarrassment.”

  After tearing it in to quarters, he then dropped the pieces, one at a time, into his waste paper bin.