THEY HAD A black and white terrier called Goof and two cats, Pooh and Frodo. The cats couldn't go in Jeannie's room because of her mice and Goof couldn't go in Royce's room because there was a dead rabbit in there. NeitherGoof nor the cats were allowed in Uncle Leo's and Auntie Rosie's room because Uncle Leo had his home brew at the end of the bed, wrapped in an electric blanket to help it ferment. The cats couldn't go in Miranda's room either. Sometimes they wet on her sheepskin rugs. It was hard to remember which doors had to be kept closed.
Royce's bedroom was directly above the laundry. In the floor beside his bed, he had cut a hole as big as a basketball. The laundry hole, he called it. If he lay on the floor with his arm through the hole, he could toss his dirty clothes sideways into the basket by the washing machine.
'When you get out of bed don't step in it,' he said. I looked down the hole and saw the white top of the washing machine. 'I'll try not to,' I said.
Royce had a huge room with a spare bed in it, a chest of drawers, three cupboards and plenty of space for his things. There were posters on the walls, the skull of a sheep, some photos of his family and a formula for making stink bombs. I don't know why he wanted to make stink bombs. He was doing well with the dead rabbit he had found on the road. He was going to skin it, he said, just as soon as he found out how. In the meantime, he'd leave the window wide open.
• Next week's book: Cliffhanger by Jacqueline Wilson
