Feel the Fear. Lauren Child
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The fish shrugged but said nothing. Then it indicated that it needed to go to the bathroom, the woman rolled her eyes and said, ‘OK, but make it snappy Bubbles.’
As Ruby threaded her way between the rails of costumes and boxes full of props and accessories, she overheard one of the models talking to the host. ‘I swear, one minute they were totally there and, like, the next, you know, gone – weird, right? Only I swear I felt something – like air moving past me. A breeze, you know?’ She sighed. ‘Not that it matters, I could never have modelled them anyway.’ She looked down at her feet. ‘No chance of squeezing these size 9s into those teeny tiny shoes – that Margo Bardem must have pixie feet.’
Ruby slipped out of the side door into the labyrinth of passageways. She shed her fish ensemble and tiptoed along the various backstage corridors. She had no real idea where she was headed but she followed the voices – they were coming from high up in the pagoda. Ruby had once been told that there was a strongroom up top there, built long ago for a famously difficult actress who insisted on having a dressing room at the very top of the building and insisted that her valuables be locked safely away in the room next door while she performed on stage.
As Ruby climbed the next set of stairs, the voices became louder. Using the extendable mirror that was one of the many attachments belonging to the Escape Watch, she managed to peep round the wall. Two guards were explaining to the show organiser how they had not moved one inch from the door of the room that contained prop 53.
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