How Kirsty Jenkins Stole the Elephant by Elen Caldecott

you’re awake,’ she said. ‘Dawn won’t wake up and I need to talk to you both.’
    â€˜You tried to wake her? That’s practically a suicide attempt.’
    Kirsty sat down on the edge of his bed. It creaked in protest at the extra weight. ‘Why are you awake?’
    Ben turned to look at her. ‘I couldn’t sleep. Bad dreams.’ He paused. ‘I dreamt about Grandad. But it wasn’t really Grandad, it was Dad and Dad was the one who died. And when I woke up it didn’t really feel better, because in a way that’s what it’s like, isn’t it? As though Dad’s . . .’ Ben’s voice faded to a whisper.
    Kirsty nodded slowly. ‘Yes, it is a bit like that. I miss Dad.’ She smiled suddenly. ‘But I think I know what to do about it. That’s why I was trying to wake Dawn. Come on, get up. You’ll have to help me wake her up.’
    â€˜OK. Just pass me my suit of armour, will you?’
    â€˜She’s your sister, not a dragon.’
    â€˜At seven o’clock in the morning, there’s no difference.’

    Ten minutes later, Dawn was propped up in bed like a hospital patient. Her face was creased with pillow marks and she looked furious.
    â€˜I swear, as soon as I can be bothered to get up out of this bed, you two are toast,’ she said.
    Kirsty grinned at her. ‘Morning! I’ve had a great idea. I wanted to tell you about it before Mum and Dad get up. Well, Mum, anyway.’
    Dawn’s eyes narrowed. ‘OK, you have thirty seconds and then I’m going back to sleep. This had better be good. Remember, your life is in danger.’
    Kirsty took a deep breath. She was like the sultan’s wife in the Arabian Nights , talking for her life, telling stories to avoid the cruel fate of the sultan’s other, slaughtered wives. The executioner was only metres away, sharpening the blade. Only her words would save her now. She could almost feel the heat of the desert, the soft rustle of silk against her skin, the weight of the diadem on her head.
    â€˜Get on with it,’ Dawn said. ‘Twenty seconds left.’
    â€˜OK, OK. Like I said, I’ve had a great idea. It could solve everything. We’d get to keep the allotment and Dad would get better. But it’s a risk. It’s dangerous and we could get into trouble.’
    â€˜That doesn’t sound great,’ Ben said.
    â€˜Wait. I haven’t got to the best bit.’
    â€˜Ten seconds.’
    â€˜We steal an elephant.’
    There was a silence. Kirsty looked at both of them. Ben was wide-eyed with horror. Dawn was wide-eyed – at least she was awake now.
    â€˜We steal a what ?’ Dawn asked.
    â€˜An elephant. A stuffed elephant. From the museum.’
    â€˜ Why exactly?’ Ben said after another long pause.
    Kirsty grinned. If he wanted to know why, then he wasn’t saying no. At least not yet. ‘Here’s what I think. Dad doesn’t think there’s anything worth getting up for, right? It’s almost as though he’s fading away. He doesn’t listen when you tell him things. He hardly notices you’re there. He’s not interested in anything. I think we have to make him interested again, whether he wants to be or not.’
    â€˜But why an elephant?’ Ben asked blankly.
    â€˜It has to be something big! Something extraordinary!’ How could she make them understand? ‘It has to be something that really shakes everyone up, makes them pay attention. There’s no way Dad can stay in bed if he knows his kids are out robbing museums! He’d really notice stuff again!
    â€˜And – this is the best bit – if we steal from the museum, we’ll get Mr Thomas’s attention too. He loves the museum. His favourite gallery is Natural History. The woman at the desk told me so. And the stuffed elephant is the best thing there.’
    â€˜I suppose everyone’s