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The Dinner Club and Other Stories
The Dinner Club and Other Stories
The Dinner Club and Other Stories
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The Dinner Club and Other Stories

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Being on home dinners gives Aidan the chance to make some money... A bridesmaid and a page chase a runaway wedding cake... Mia and her Dad turn detective...

These are just some of the tales in Rob Keeley’s new collection. You can also read about the strange new craze started by Erin, the mystery guest at the school reunion, and more from Liam and Justin. Plus, Beech Class find themselves in charge of the whole school for a day, as they give the teachers a taste of Pupil Power...

There are even seven bonus stories of just seven words each! Rob Keeley’s unique combination of traditional children’s storytelling techniques with awareness of the world in which young people now live creates nine more highly accessible stories for children today. Reviews have recognised Rob’s ability accurately to convey peer group interaction, classroom interaction and family relationships, within the context of the well-observed and humorous short story.

The Dinner Club and Other Stories sees a slight shift away from the fantasy elements of previous books to a style of story more rooted in the here and now. However, all the most popular characters and set-ups from the first two books are present here, along with many new characters and some innovative storylines.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 11, 2021
ISBN9781800469389
The Dinner Club and Other Stories
Author

Rob Keeley

Rob Keeley is an award-winning author of children’s novels, short stories and picture books, including the Spirits series. Other credits include the award-listed stage play Mr. Everyone, and Chain Gang and Newsjack for BBC Radio. He holds author workshops in schools and libraries, and teaches Creative Writing to children and adults.

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    The Dinner Club and Other Stories - Rob Keeley

    Copyright © 2013 Rob Keeley

    The moral right of the author has been asserted.

    Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

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    Email: books@troubador.co.uk

    Web: www.troubador.co.uk/matador

    ISBN 978 1800469 389

    British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

    A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

    Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

    Contents

    The Dinner Club

    Whose Side Are You On?

    Full Time

    The Craze

    The Runaway Cake

    The Class of ‘84

    The Magic Number

    Lost in the Post

    The Patient

    Pupil Power

    The Dinner Club

    Here we are, then. Nan placed a plate of hot food on the table. Sausage and mash and grilled tomato.

    She smiled as she went over to Aidan, who was sitting glued to Extreme Scary Animals on the TV. She waved her hand in front of his face.

    Anyone at home?

    Aidan woke up rapidly. He quickly turned his attention towards the food.

    That’s brilliant. Cheers, Nan.

    Now, come and eat it up. Nan looked at the clock. You’ve got to be back at school in half an hour.

    Aidan needed no further encouragement. He sat at the table and started to drown his sausages in a torrent of ketchup. Nan politely ignored this.

    She changed the TV programme to What’s In My Garage?

    "Everyone’s so jealous at school, Aidan said, with his mouth full. There’s not many kids get home dinners nowadays. Everyone’s Mums and Dads are at work."

    He grinned, through mashed potato.

    At school, they’re all queuing up for pasta salad today. Or else it’s sarnies.

    And I’ll bet half of them don’t get a proper breakfast either, said Nan. "When I was at school, my mother wouldn’t let us out of the house until we’d had our porridge, and a boiled egg, and a hot cup of tea. And then she always had a hot meal ready for us at one o’clock sharp. She looked at an object on the TV screen. That’s never worth two hundred and thirty pounds…"

    She turned back to Aidan, who was busy trying to remove grilled tomato from his school tie.

    You know… you could bring a friend over for lunch sometime. If you like. As long as the school, and their parents, think it’s all right…

    Aidan looked surprised.

    Cheers.

    He had already nearly finished.

    Now, don’t eat too fast. Nan headed back to the kitchen, as a bell rang. That’s the apple crumble. Do you want ice cream with it as well as cream?

    "You are so lucky," Martin said that afternoon.

    They were copying history notes from the board. Martin looked at the clock. It seemed to have stopped.

    D’you know what was in my packed lunch, today? he went on. Cottage cheese. And salad, with raw carrot. Mum’s been watching this TV thing about healthy eating… He grimaced. Tell me what you had, again?

    Aidan grinned. He’d been working on his description.

    Sausages. Great big, meaty, spicy ones from Chambers’ in Bridge Street. And nice, light, fluffy mashed potato. Tomatoes, grilled with the sausages. And masses and masses of tomato ketchup. Then there was the apple crumble. With the ice cream all runny, and melting into it…

    Martin let out a sudden, stifled howl.

    He met Mrs Charles’s eye, and fell silent.

    Tell you what, Aidan said, as soon as they were able to talk again. Nan said I could bring a friend over for lunch one day. You could come tomorrow. I’m having fish, chips and peas then. Mushy peas. Or on Wednesday, it’ll be steak pie.

    Martin looked glum.

    Mum’d never let me do that. She wants me here, eating grated carrot and tuna.

    She wouldn’t know, Aidan said. You could just come back to Nan’s with me at twelve o’clock. She only lives in Station Road. Couple of minutes away.

    Martin’s face brightened. But only for a moment.

    "How’d I get out? Everyone knows I’m not on home dinners. What happens when I’m not in the hall for lunch?"

    Aidan thought for a moment. Then he grinned.

    No problem.

    Aidan, Martin said. Should you be doing this?

    Shut up, said Aidan politely. They were sitting at the desk in Aidan’s room, having told Aidan’s Mum they were working on their history project.

    On the desk in front of them were two slightly crumpled sheets of notepaper. On the first of these, Aidan was carefully writing his name, over and over again, with a fountain pen. The writing was slightly crooked.

    He smiled.

    That should do. Mrs Charles doesn’t know I can write with my left hand. She’s never seen this writing, before.

    What are you doing, anyway? Martin asked.

    Aidan smiled.

    You just start looking forward to your lunch.

    He took up the second sheet and quickly started to write.

    What’s your Mum’s first name?

    Right, Mrs Charles said to Cedar Class, when the bell rang at twelve the next day. All around the classroom, papier maché monsters leered back at her, marking the end of the Art lesson. "Terry – that is not what a paintbrush is for. Put it down. All right, all of you. Off you go."

    She turned to pick up a handwritten note from her desk.

    Don’t forget you’ve got a dental appointment, Martin.

    She paused.

    "They should really be made outside school time, you know."

    Aidan nudged Martin.

    Sorry, miss. I’ll tell my Mum.

    All right. Mrs Charles waved the two boys towards the door. She’s meeting you in reception. You’d better get going.

    Aidan and Martin were out in less than three seconds.

    Aidan sat at the head of Nan’s table with the air of a medieval baron providing a feast.

    He and Martin were already halfway through their battered cod, golden, crispy chips and extra-mushy peas, contented and comfortable as they watched When Celebrity Holidays Go Wrong. There was the smell of bakewell tart in the air.

    Aidan had never seen Martin look so happy.

    More vinegar? Aidan slid the bottle over.

    Martin shook his head. With a mouthful of chips, he said:

    I never thought Mrs Charles would fall for it.

    And it’ll just take two minutes to get back. Aidan looked at the clock. Remember now. You were at the dentist. Don’t look too happy. Can you act like your teeth hurt?

    Martin put his fork down. He clutched his jaw.

    Aaarghh! He stopped in mid-yell as Aidan’s Nan entered. Aaah… Ah! There you are! Thank you! That was great.

    Nan gave Martin a funny look as she put their pudding plates down.

    I still can’t believe we got away with it! Martin ran as fast as he could, which wasn’t very fast after so big a meal. I bet everyone wishes they could do that. Bazza’s on sarnies too, he’d have loved those chips. So would Higgsy…

    Aidan skidded to a halt.

    Hey, come on. Martin looked at his watch. We’ll be late.

    No, wait. Aidan seemed to be deep in thought.

    Slowly, a crafty smile spread across his face.

    Must be the fish… They say it makes you brainy.

    You what? Martin looked puzzled.

    Stand back, Martin, Aidan said. And make way for the biggest brain this side of Station Road.

    His smile broadened.

    I think I’ve just had the idea of the century.

    So this is what it’s all about, said Aidan.

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