Jane Blonde Spylet on Ice

By Jill Marshall

Jane Blonde, Sensational Spylet, is hurled on her coolest mission yet when she enrols at SPIcamp! There are gadgets galore at the top-secret facility and there’s even a snowdome where the spylets can chill out. When the team is sent on a mysterious polar expedition, Janey’s spylet- training - and her new snowboard skills! - are put to the test.

Originally published by Macmillan Children's Books, the Jane Blonde series has sold hundreds of thousands of copies in two dozen countries, featured as a World Book Day title, and has been optioned for film and TV. It is now available for the first time in all sorts of digital versions including e, flip and print books, with fabulous new covers and from its new official home - Jill Marshall Books Ltd.

The seven Jane Blonde books are also a SWAGG origin story. Meet Blonde and the rest of her new team - Jack BC, Matilda Peppercorn, Stein - in the first of the S*W*A*G*G series, Spook.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jill Marshall
• Release date: May 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9781990024214

Jill Marshall

Jill Marshall is the author of the best-selling Jane Blonde series and fiction for children, young adults and adults. Her middle-grade series about sensational girl spy, Jane Blonde,published by Macmillan Children's Books UK, has sold hundreds of thousands of copies around the world, featured as a World Book Day title and reached the UK Times Top 10 for all fiction. Jane Blonde has been optioned for film and TV and is currently undergoing some exciting Wower-ish transformations.Jill has now brought Jane together with her other series in this age group - Doghead, The Legend of Matilda Peppercorn, Stein & Frank - in a fantastic new ensemble series. Meet the SWAGG team, and their first book, SPOOK.As well as books for tweens and teens, Jill writes for young adults and adults, each with a collection of three stand-alone novels. She also writes for younger children, with a Hachette-published picture book for teenies, Kave-Tina Rox.When she's not writing books, Jill is a communications consultant and a proud mum and nana. She divides her time between the UK and New Zealand, and hopes one day to travel between the two by SatiSPI or ESPIdrilles.

Book preview

JANE BLONDE

Spylet on Ice

By Jill Marshall

First published by Macmillan Children’s Books 2007

Copyright © Jill Marshall

The right of Jill Marshall to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of New Zealand

ISBN 978-1-99-002421-4

Cover Design by Katie Gannon

Illustrations by Madison Fotti-Knowles

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Chapter 1 Scan the plan

Janey Brown awoke the instant she heard the parcel thump onto the floor. She flicked her mousey hair from her eyes and leapt out of bed. Thumping parcels usually meant one thing, and one thing only – a message from her father. Of course, there was the odd disappointment when the package actually turned out to be from Reader’s Digest, but Janey now had enough of a nose for this kind of thing to guess when something was afoot. This was one of those moments, she was sure.

It was only a short time since plain little Janey Brown had discovered that she was actually Jane Blonde, Sensational Spylet, but in those few months she had grown into the role as she could never have imagined. Gadgets (known as SPI-buys to Blonde and her friends) did whatever she commanded them to do to get her out of trouble – or, occasionally, straight into trouble. Spy friends from her father’s organisation, SPI, or Solomon’s Polificational Investigations, had formed a tight-knit group around her: G-Mamma, her vibrant and unusual mentor; the Halos, headteacher Mrs Halliday and her son (and Janey’s best friend) Alfie; Trouble the spy cat, Maddy the spy sheep, and now Bert, ex-Australian sheep farmer turned spy recruit.

And the very, very best revelation of all – that her father was not dead at all as she had believed all her life, but was Superspy Abe Brilliance Brown, in charge of his own spying organisation and changing his identity by way of his own miraculous scientific discoveries, so that Janey never knew whether he would be Abe, or his alter ego Solomon Brown who never really existed, or businessman extraordinaire, Abe Rownigan. Or rather, as he’d eventually pointed out, ‘a Brown again’. What Janey did know, however, was that whenever any of them sent Janey a parcel, a new mission began.

She raced down the stairs in her pajamas and inspected the doormat. Sure enough, there was a flattish cardboard box, just about the right size to have squeezed through the letter box. It was addressed to Janey Brown, in a logo’d envelope from Sol’s Lols ice-lolly factory in Scotland. Sol’s Lols was another of the businesses her father operated to disguise his spying activities, along with Abe ‘n’ Jean’s Clean Machines which he ran with her mother. The smiley round face of Sol beamed at her above the words, ‘Be sure to shop for Sol’s Lols!’

Janey’s mum appeared from the kitchen. ‘I thought that would probably be for you. Seeing as you’re the only one who ever gets any interesting parcels.’ Jean Brown raised an eyebrow at her daughter, and for an instant Janey saw in her the Superspy that she had been fairly recently.

‘It’s from … Uncle Sol, I think,’ said Janey, parting the gum around the edges of the packaging carefully. She could never tell whether the message would be contained within the envelope, or might be the envelope itself. A solid glass photo frame slid out onto her toe. ‘Ow! Oh no, hope I haven’t broken it.’

That would be disastrous. She picked the frame up anxiously. ‘Oh. It’s a penguin,’ she said in surprise.

Jean Brown peered over her shoulder. ‘I told you he always sends you odd gifts. Why on earth would you want a picture of a penguin? Maybe we could take the picture out and just use the frame, for something useful.’

She reached out to take the photograph from her daughter, but Janey clutched it to her chest. ‘No! No, I really like penguins. We’ve been, um, studying them at school, so this really is useful.’

Just as her mother cocked her head quizzically, someone knocked at the door. Glad of the distraction, Janey flung it open to find her friend and fellow Spylet, Alfie Halliday, clutching a very familiar-looking brown package.

‘Snap,’ he said, shaking out the envelope so that an identical glass frame slid out onto his outstretched hand. Suddenly he noticed Mrs Brown standing behind Janey, and blushed to the roots of his bouncy chestnut hair as he realised that he might have dropped them both into a situation they would find hard to explain. ‘Morning, Mrs B. Off to work soon?’

‘It’s Saturday,’ said Jean Brown. ‘Even cleaners get a day off, you know. Now, isn’t that strange. Janey has exactly the same parcel from her uncle. Do you know Solomon Brown too?’

‘I … no. No, I don’t. But I … buy a lot of lollies. Love them. Favourite thing,’ muttered Alfie.

Janey jumped in to help him out. ‘I expect they’ve got your name on a database somewhere from…from…’

‘…that competition I did.’ Alfie nodded enthusiastically. ‘S’right. Win a year’s worth of ice lollies.’

‘So he must have sent this picture to lots of people,’ said Janey. ‘Not just me.’

Jean Brown looked from one to the other of them, eyes narrowed over her tea cup, as they both smiled brightly at her. ‘Well, it sounds like something he would do,’ she said eventually. ‘Marketing, I suppose. It’s all about sales, isn’t it? It even says so on the envelope. I’m sorry, Janey.’ She stretched an arm over Janey’s shoulders. ‘I though this time he might have sent you something special. Just for you. Not just some gismo to make you buy his products.’

But Janey knew that she had been sent something extremely special. And it was becoming very clear to her what she needed to do with it. ‘I don’t mind,’ she said, popping the package into her bag that was propped against the banister. ‘Maybe he’s got some special offer on or something. Alfie, maybe we should go to the supermarket and find out?’

Alfie shrugged, a little annoyed that Janey seemed to have worked something out before him. It was often the case. ‘I’ve got an hour before football,’ he said reluctantly.

‘Great!’ Janey stepped out of the door, but as she did so her mum grabbed her arm.

‘Two things, darling. One, you’re still in your pajamas. And two, if you’re going shopping you could get a few bits and pieces for me.’ She fished in her pocket for her purse. ‘Some Brie, crackers and grapes, and some tortilla chips and dip. I think that should do it.’

‘Okay,’ said Janey, bewildered. It didn’t sound like their usual Saturday tea, but maybe her mum had got so sick of cooking (as she did it so badly) that she’d decided on cold food only in future.

‘Fifty-six minutes until football.’ Alfie pointed at his watch, and within moments Janey was back downstairs in jeans, tee-shirt and cardigan.

They cycled to the supermarket on Alfie’s SPIcycle, Janey sitting on the seat clutching both packages, and Alfie standing upright on the pedals to propel them along. Being a Spy-buy, the SPIcycle stayed proudly upright as Alfie spun them around corners, up pavements, and over the odd fence – straight up one side and just as straight down the other. They reached Pick-and-Save in only moments, and headed for the aisle containing Frozen Confectionary.

‘Walls, home brand, Viennettas…where is the Sol’s Lols stuff?’ said Alfie, striding impatiently along the row. ‘Why can’t he just pick up the phone and give us a message the normal way?’

‘Because then we wouldn’t be spylets,’ said Janey, with that special thrill that went through her whenever she remembered she was not just Janey Brown, schoolgirl and dutiful daughter, but also Jane Blonde, ace spy-in-training. ‘Here they are. Look for one with a penguin on it.’

Placing the packages on top of the other ice-creams, Janey and Alfie leaned over the freezer and sifted through the Sol’s Lols products. Within moments their breath felt as though it were sticking to their cheeks, and their hands were aching with cold.

‘Wish I had my Boy Battlers on,’ said Alfie, referring to the super-charged gloves he wore when he went through the Wower and turned into spylet, Al Halo. ‘My fingers are dropping off. Look, do you seriously think he’s planted a message in an ice lolly in the local Pick-and-Save? Anyone could pick it up and walk off with it.’

Janey paused, rubbing her hands together. ‘That’s a good point. Some toddler could be eating the information right now. He wouldn’t risk it. So what else could it be?’

A cross-faced supermarket worker was bearing down on them. ‘What are you doing in there? It’ll take me ages to put them all back in the right boxes! Just choose one and clear off.’

‘Actually, we don’t want one now,’ said Janey. ‘Sorry.’

Both spylets made some half-hearted attempts to smooth over the stirred-up lolly section, then picked up their packages and ran. Janey skidded to a halt next to the cheese. ‘I’d better get this stuff for my mum first, and then we’ll try something else.’

‘I don’t have time,’ said Alfie. ‘Football’s in quarter of an hour.’

‘Well, what’s more important?’ said Janey impatiently, but she knew what the answer would be. While they were on a mission, Alfie was a million percent dedicated. Right now, however, when they weren’t getting very far, the footy pitch was looking very attractive. ‘Oh, okay. I’ll walk home.’

Janey wandered listlessly round the supermarket picking up the items on her shopping list. The morning wasn’t turning out to be quite so exciting or satisfactory as she’d imagined. Furthermore, the package from Uncle Sol had become freezing cold from being placed on top of the lollies; so cold it was actually burning her skin through the patch of tee-shirt it was clutched against. She stopped and tipped it into the basket of cheese and crackers.

As it slid out of the packaging slightly, she looked again at the penguin. Maybe she should be looking elsewhere. Penguin biscuits? Or fish, that penguins might eat? It was a bit of a puzzle, and she was normally so good at those. But then she looked more closely at the space above the penguin’s head. Etched into the glass was a little series of upright lines, like a broken fence, or a…a... ‘Those things they put on tins for scanning. A bar code!’ shouted Janey. How had she failed to notice it before?

She had everything she needed, so Janey raced to the check-out and waited anxiously in the queue, hopping from one foot to the other. At last it was her turn, and she turned the basket upside-down onto the conveyor belt, holding the penguin photo under her cardigan so it couldn’t be seen.

‘That’s fifteen seventy-five,’ said the till operator.

Perfect. Dipping into her pocket, Janey pulled out a couple of notes and a handful of coins and flung them towards the lady behind the till. As she’d hoped, a couple of the coins catapulted across the other side of the conveyor belt and disappeared next to the till operator’s seat. Tutting loudly, the woman clambered down off the chair and scrabbled on the ground for the money.

She only had a split second. Opening up her cardigan, Janey swept her arm in front of the scanner. Nothing. She did it again, wondering what the man behind her in the queue would think of her flapping her purple-clad arm around like a batwing. Still nothing. The woman was straightening, turning around, and Janey had no time to lose. Grabbing the edge of the photo frame with her left hand, she located the bar code and aimed it straight at the front of the scanner. There was a faint beep, and Janey caught her breath as she spotted writing and images filling the small glass panel.

‘School project,’ she said to the man behind her, then shoved the frame firmly beneath her cardigan as she picked up her bag of shopping. Wishing she had her Fleet Feet on beneath her jeans, she sprinted for home, or rather for the home next to her own. G-Mamma’s Spylab was what she needed now.

Chapter 2 Icy invitations

‘Have you ever even heard of SPI-camp?’

Janey stared, fascinated, at the images on the glass photo frame in G-Mamma’s Spylab, projected onto the white front of G-Mamma’s enormous fridge. Several spies-in-training were Fleet-footing around an assault course, using all sorts of Spy-buys – Girl Gauntlets, SuSPInders, SPIders, Boy Battlers, and a couple Janey had never seen before - to fight off the other team and get to the finish line first. It looked FUN; like Laserquest, only with real spy weapons. Above the image sat a couple of lines of writing in flamboyant fuchsia:

Congratulations on decoding your personal invitation to spy camp. Your SPI:KE will receive a LipSPIck with details.

See you soon!

‘Did you do this when you were a Spylet?’ she asked her own SPI:KE – her SPI Kid Educator.

‘No way, Blonday.’ G-Mamma screwed up her face. ‘Sounds disgusting – not able to take your own food? I need my sugar! Anyway, they’ve never had SPI-camp before. Your dad must have just introduced it – probably a way to get closer to you.’

Janey smiled as a small glow ignited within her, and she looked again at the moving images. She had now met up with her father on several missions; it wouldn’t altogether surprise her if what G-Mamma said were true. She rather liked being able to step into the Wower, wipe out her appearance as ordinary school-girl Janey Brown, and help her father fight off evil baddies. She wondered who he would be this time.

Abe Rownigan’s voice was now pointing out the various features of the SPI-camp she’d been invited to attend. ‘Once you’ve mastered all the units, you’ll be a fully-fledged member of the Spy Academy, which entitles you to call yourself a spy … when you’re old enough. I think you’ll find it a lot of fun, and very inspiring. I’ve hand-selected the coordinators and all the students and their SPI:KEs, and you should all bring along your spy-pets if you have them.’

‘All?’ said Janey. ‘How many do you think there’ll be of us?’

G-Mamma ran the frame in front of the scanner she’d hastily installed on her workbench, a frown on her heavily made up face as she looked for more information. ‘He IS kidding, right? Me? Re-training? I don’t need a refresher, unless it’s the sweetie kind that comes in a packet.’

‘G-Mamma, it’ll be fun! We’ll get to meet some other spies and spylets, get the latest Spy-buys, try out some new technology…’

‘Oh yes, and what else?’ G-Mamma put her gold fingernail against her pouting glossy lips. ‘I know! And see your father again!’ she said pointedly. She knew exactly why Janey was so keen to go.

‘Do you think he’ll be there?’ said Janey, a little breathless with bottled-up hope.

‘Your father,’ said G-Mamma, popping a meat-and-potato pie in the microwave, ‘is a mystery to all of us. Only he knows where he’ll spring up next, and whose body he’ll be using to do it. And that is a very good thing,’ she added sternly.

Janey avoided her gaze. She had been a bit too quick on occasions to believe that someone might be her dad, and G-Mamma was taking a little while to forgive her for it completely. ‘I’ll…umm…just go and call Alfie. Tell him about the bar-code and what have you.’

The pie in front of G-Mamma’s face nodded up and down, so Janey hopped down from the tall stool at the Spy-lab computer bench, whistled for Trouble the spy-cat, and glided on