Matty and Bill for Keeps by Elizabeth Fensham Page B

detective movies on TV, the baddies have Cockney accents.’
    â€˜What’s that?’ asked Bill.
    â€˜Cockneys are people born in inner London,’ explained Crispin. ‘They not only have a distinctive accent, they also have a secret language to conduct their illegal business.’
    â€˜They do?’ asked Mat, excitement gleaming in her eyes.
    â€˜It’s called rhyming slang,’ said Crispin. 3 ‘For example, instead of saying, “Pass me the tomato sauce”, you say, “Pass me the dead horse”.’
    â€˜Why would you need to have a secret language to ask for the tomato sauce?’ asked Bill.

    â€˜It’s just an example,’ said Crispin. ‘Cockneys can chatter away in rhyme and outsiders just get lost in the words.’
    â€˜It’s a brilliant move,’ said Mat.
    â€˜â€™Ello china plate, how ’bout a pig’s ear?’ said Crispin, holding his hand to his ear like a phone.
    â€˜What did you just say?’ asked Bill.
    â€˜Hello mate, how about a bee r ? ’ said Crispin.
    â€˜But what if Maggot doesn’t understand rhyming slang?’ asked Bill.
    â€˜You just use a bit to establish your credentials,’ explained Crispin. ‘A touch of slang will lend authenticity.’
    Bill understood this to mean that Maggot would truly believe that the email was from a crim mate. Privately, Bill wasn’t convinced that this rhyming slang business was all that authentic for Australian criminals, but Mat and Crispin seemed so sold on the idea that he kept quiet.
    â€˜Okay,’ said Bill, ‘but first things first. I’ve got to get Mum up to Sydney. Somehow I have to make sure she and Dad go away somewhere. It’s also important that Dad doesn’t have his mobile with him. Deactivated would be even better.’
    â€˜Let’s make next weekend our action weekend,’ said Mat. ‘Or should I say, “Etslay akemay extnay eekendway ouryay actionyay eekendway”?’
    â€˜Esyay!’ said Bill and Crispin together.

    3 See Afterword for a more detailed explanation of rhyming slang.

That afternoon, Bill could not believe his luck when he climbed through the fence and returned home from the attic meeting. Mrs Mabel Flint had dropped in with some lamingtons. She was still keeping what she called a ‘motherly eye’ on his mum since their arrival in Dewey Creek more than a year before.
    It was Mrs Flint who had warned Pam about the big louts who sometimes hung about the primary school. Bill thought Mrs Flint could sometimes be a bit of a busybody, but he was glad that his mum had neighbours who cared. Mrs Flint had been at the film night, so it was natural that over a cup of tea and a fresh lamington, Mrs Flint suddenly said, ‘Why on earth haven’t you headed up to Sydney yet?’
    Pam answered, ‘Troy had another computer test coming up, so I waited for that to be over and then things just got busy.’
    â€˜ Just got busy ? That sounds like an excuse, my dear.’
    Pam hung her head. ‘I really want to go, but I worry about leaving Bill. I’ve never been away from him for even a day of his life. Not overnight, I mean.’
    Bill sat himself down at the kitchen table. ‘I’ll be right, Mum. I want you to go,’ he said. ‘And you’re not right about never being away from me. I’ve had sleepovers at Mat’s and just the other day she and I went camping on our own.’
    â€˜That’s different from me being in another state if you ever need me,’ said Pam.
    â€˜We’ll all keep an eye out for young Bill here,’ said Mrs Flint.
    â€˜We’ll see,’ said Pam.
    Bill felt a bit annoyed by his mum’s delaying tactics. His mum had been ecstatic when she’d been given the money for the trip. Now it sounded like she had cold feet. Usually, Bill would never, ever be cross with his mother. He respected her for