or the airport in half an hour so you'd better get packed. Your brother's upstairs all ready to go. Get a move on, girl! Get going!'
'Off?' Matilda cried out. 'Where to?'
'Spain,' the father said. 'It's a better climate than this lousy country.'
'Spain!' Matilda cried. 'I don't want to go to Spain! I love it here and I love my school!'
'Just do as you're told and stop arguing,' the father snapped. 'I've got enough troubles without messing about with you!'
'But Daddy ...' Matilda began.
'Shut up!' the father shouted. 'We're leaving in thirty minutes! I'm not missing that plane!'
'But how long for, Daddy?' Matilda cried.'
'When are we coming back?'
'We aren't,' the father said. 'Now beat it!
I'm busy!'
Matilda turned away from him and walked out through the open front-door. As soon as she was on the road she began to run. She headed straight back towards Miss Honey's house and she reached it in less than four minutes. She flew up the drive and suddenly she saw Miss Honey in the front garden, standing in the middle of a bed of roses doing something with a pair of clippers. Miss Honey had heard the sound of Matilda's feet racing over the gravel and now she straightened up and turned and stepped out of the rose-bed as the child came running up.
'My, my!' she said. 'What in the world is the matter?'
Matilda stood before her, panting, out of breath, her small face flushed crimson all over.
'They're leaving!' she cried. 'They've all gone mad and they're filling their suitcases and they're leaving for Spain in about thirty minutes!'
'Who is?' Miss Honey asked quietly.
'Mummy and Daddy and my brother Mike and they say I've got to go with them!'
'You mean for a holiday?' Miss Honey asked.
'For ever! Matilda cried. 'Daddy said we were never coming back!'
There was a brief silence, then Miss Honey said, 'Actually I'm not very surprised.'
'You mean you knew they were going?' Matilda cried. 'Why didn't you tell me?'
'No, darling,' Miss Honey said. 'I did not know they were going. But the news still doesn't surprise me.'
'Why?' Matilda cried. 'Please tell me why.' She was still out of breath from the running and from the shock of it all.
'Because your father,' Miss Honey said, 'is in with a bunch of crooks. Everyone in the village knows that. My guess is that he is a receiver of stolen cars from all over the country. He's in it deep.'
Matilda stared at her open-mouthed.
Miss Honey went on, 'People brought stolen cars to your father's workshop where he changed the number-plates and resprayed the bodies a different colour and all the rest of it. And now somebody's probably tipped him off that the police are on to him and he's doing what they all do, running off to Spain where they can't get him. He'll have been sending his money out there for years, all ready and waiting for him to arrive.'
They were standing on the lawn in front of the lovely red-brick house with its weathered old red tiles and its tall chimneys, and Miss Honey still had the pair of garden clippers in one hand. It was a warm golden evening and a blackbird was singing somewhere near by.
'I don't want to go with them!' Matilda shouted suddenly. 'I won't go with them.'
'I'm afraid you must,' Miss Honey said.
'I want to live here with you,' Matilda cried out. 'Please let me live here with you!'
'I only wish you could,' Miss Honey said. 'But I'm afraid it's not possible. You cannot leave your parents just because you want to. They have a right to take you with them.'
'But what if they agreed?' Matilda cried eagerly. 'What if they said yes, I can stay with you? Would you let me stay with you then?'
Miss Honey said softly, 'Yes, that would be heaven.'
'Well, I think they might!' Matilda cried. 'I honestly think they might! They don't actually care tuppence about me!'
'Not so fast,' Miss Honey said.
'We've got to be fast!' Matilda cried.'
'They're leaving any moment! Come on!' she shouted, grasping Miss Honey's hand. 'Please come with me and ask them! But we'll have to hurry! We'll have to run!'
The next moment the two of them were running down the drive together and then out on to the road, and Matilda was ahead, pulling Miss Honey after her by her wrist, and it was a wild and wonderful dash they made along the country lane and through the village to the house where Matilda's parents lived. The big black Mercedes was still outside and now its boot and all its doors were open and Mr and Mrs Wormwood and the brother were scurrying around it like ants, piling in the suitcases, as Matilda and Miss Honey came dashing up.
'Daddy and Mummy!' Matilda burst out, gasping for breath. 'I don't want to go with you! I want to stay here and live with Miss Honey and she says that I can but only if you give me permission! Please say yes! Go on, Daddy, say yes! Say yes, Mummy!'
The father turned and looked at Miss Honey. 'You're that teacher woman who once came here to see me, aren't you?' he said. Then he went back to stowing the suitcases into the car.
His wife said to him, 'This one'll have to go on the back seat. There's no more room in the boot.'
'I would love to have Matilda,' Miss Honey said. 'I would look after her with loving care, Mr Wormwood, and I would pay for everything. She wouldn't cost you a penny. But it was not my idea. It was Matilda's. And I will not agree to take her without your full and willing consent.'
'Come on, Harry,' the mother said, pushing a suitcase into the back seat. 'Why don't we let her go if that's what she wants? It'll be one less to look after.'
'I'm in a hurry,' the father said. 'I've got a plane to catch. If she wants to stay, let her stay. It's fine with me.'
Matilda leapt into Miss Honey's arms and hugged her, and Miss Honey hugged her back, and then the mother and father and brother were inside the car and the car was pulling away with the tyres screaming. The brother gave a wave through the rear window, but the other two didn't even lookback. Miss Honey was still hugging the tiny girl in her arms and neither of them said a word as they stood there watching the big black car tearing round the corner at the end of the road and disappearing for ever into the distance.
Roald Dahl, Matilda
(Series: # )
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