THE GAME’S UP FOR THE SECRET SEVEN

The Secret Seven stared at each other glumly.

‘The game’s up,’ said Joe as he poked Phil in the ribs. Phil gave a little squeal.

‘There’s no need to be beastly, Joe,’ said John in a sharp voice. ‘Something will turn up.’ He was putting on a brave face because that’s what leaders did in Dire Moments. And this was a Dire Moment.

The Secret Seven were in danger. Something horrid was about to happen. Unless they came up with a plan, they were about to be replaced by a new Secret Seven! Kevin’s Secret Seven was planning to take over and it seemed there was nothing they could do about it.

A tear rolled down little Alexander’s face. ‘They’ll take over our headquarters,’ he groaned. They had spent weeks cleaning out the old hen-house, whitewashing the walls and throwing the hens out. ‘They’ll take our pocket-knives and our secret maps. It’s too beastly.’

‘We’ve had such jolly times here,’ said Mal. ‘Remember when we sent all the soldiers to Cousin George’s war and they beat up all those awful foreigners? And then Cousin George came to visit us and he gave us all his old lolly wrappers to lick? They were jolly scrumptious. Didn’t we feel important?’

‘And what about the time we pretended those people in the boat threw their children in the water?’ chuckled Mark. ‘How angry everyone was!’

Brendan chimed in. ‘Remember when we threw all that money in the toilet and all the village children dived in to get it? How we laughed!’

‘And when we locked up the gypsies and we didn’t let them out for five years, even when they cried?’

‘What about when we made those lazy children work for tuppence a week?

‘And if they complained we’d spank them!’

‘What about when we sold everyone’s telephone?’

‘And when we sold that peculiar yellow stuff to the people in furry hats!’

‘And when we made all the village children give us their pocket money and we bought ponies for the rich children up the hill!’

‘And what about when we played our big smelly trick on Tasmania!’

‘Yes, we’ve certainly had some jolly adventures,’ chortled John. ‘But now we have to think of a plan or Kevin’s new Secret Seven will soon be sitting on our chairs drinking our ginger beer and eating our plum-cake and having our adventures. We only have a few weeks to think of something. So put your thinking caps on, everyone.’

They all thought hard. They’d already spent weeks trying to trick Kevin’s new Secret Seven into being naughty, but Kevin just ignored them.

‘We could spank all the children who say nasty things about us,’ said Tony. ‘Then everyone would want us to stay.’

‘Don’t be silly, Tony,’ said Peter. ‘There’s not enough time. That would take months.’ Peter was ever so grumpy because he so wanted to be leader, and now his chance would never come.

‘What do you think we should do then, smarty-pants?’ sneered little Alexander.

Peter screwed his face up and his brain ticked fiercely.

‘Well,’ he said slowly. The others crowded around to listen.

The next few weeks were very busy for the children. They had work to do. Malcolm was seen carrying a big bundle of cardboard into Secret Seven headquarters. Nick scampered gaily behind him with pencils and scissors and paste and string. For days there came the sounds of cutting and drawing and pasting.

At last they were finished.

‘Are you sure this plan will work, Peter?’ said John doubtfully.

‘Of course it will, John,’ cried Peter. ‘It’s a capital plan!’

‘Then I’ll invite Kevin’s new Secret Seven to meet us here tomorrow morning,’ said John.

The next day at nine o’clock sharp, Kevin’s new Secret Seven burst in.

‘Push off, you lot,’ yelled Kevin rudely. ‘This is our headquarters now. Who’s for ginger beer?’

‘Alright everyone!’ shouted Peter, ‘Time to put our masks on!’ and the old Secret Seven leapt into action. They ran at the new Secret Seven, tied their hands behind their backs and gagged them with old socks. Tony brought out the box of masks they’d made and they each chose one.

‘I’ll be Kevin,’ said John. ‘Oh no you won’t,’ cried Peter as he pulled the strings of the Kevin-mask over his ears.

‘I’m Julia,’ cried little Alexander. ‘I’m Peter G,’ yelled Malcolm. ‘You’re supposed to be bald,’ shouted Nick. ‘No-one will notice the difference,’ chuckled Malcolm. ‘Look, it’s a perfect fit.’ Phillip put on the Laurie-mask, Brendan put on the Lindsay-mask and Joe put on the Martin-mask. It was almost perfect. ‘We look just like them!’ chortled Tony. ‘That’s because they look just like us!’ chuckled Julie.

‘Mmppffghrrr!’ grumbled Kevin from behind his gag as the old Secret Seven ran out triumphantly with their masks firmly in place.

All the village children were waiting outside.

‘Hurrah for the new Secret Seven!’ they cried.

Hurrah!

-Claire