Cliffhanger

Contents

Cover

About the Book

Title Page

Dedication

Introduction

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

About the Author

Also by Jacqueline Wilson

Praise

Copyright

About the Book

I slipped backwards and suddenly . . . there I was! Suspended. In mid-air. ‘Help!'

From climbing and abseiling to canoeing and a Crazy Bucket Race, the adventure holiday promises to be full of action. There's just one problem as far as Tim is concerned: he is hopeless at sports of any kind.

Can Tim survive the horrors of a week absolutely packed with activity? Can his team – the Tigers – be the overall champions? There are some surprises in store for everyone!

A funny story from best-selling Jacqueline Wilson, now including a brand-new introduction from the author!

Look out for further adventures of Tim and Biscuits in
Buried Alive!

For Tim and Joanna

I'm always very pleased when one of my books gets adapted for television.
Cliffhanger
was a schools television series. In fact, it was a television script
before
it became a novel.

A friendly producer got in touch with me and told me they'd like to commission me to write a two-part series for children at junior school. I was thrilled, and asked if they were looking for anything in particular.

‘No, no, write whatever you fancy,' said the producer. ‘Just so long as the main character is a boy.'

I nearly always write about girls, simply because I find it easier. But I wanted to do some television work so I nodded eagerly.

‘And one other thing,' said the producer. ‘We'd like it to be an exciting adventure story.'

I
never
write exciting adventure stories! My books are always family stories. They're sometimes funny, sometimes sad. I knew I couldn't write an exciting adventure to save my life – but I didn't want to give up on this television chance.

‘Fine,' I said, nodding again. ‘I'll write you an exciting adventure story about a boy.'

Then I went away and worried - until I got an idea. How about inventing a shy, anxious boy, the sort of boy who often gets teased? I could send him off on a special children's adventure holiday. Most children would jump at the chance, but my boy would dread all the sporty activities. (I would too!)

I suddenly started writing happily and because the television series was in two parts I ended part one with a literal cliffhanger – my poor Tim dangling off a cliff, enduring abseiling! I liked writing Tim's story so much I turned it into this book, too.

Chapter One

I
KNEW
I'D
hate it. I kept telling and telling Dad. But he wouldn't listen to me. He never does.

‘I like the sound of this adventure holiday for children,' said Dad, pointing to the advert in the paper. ‘Abseiling, canoeing, archery, mountain biking . . .'

‘Sounds a bit dangerous to me,' said Mum.

I didn't say anything. I went on watching telly.

‘How about it, Tim?' said Dad. ‘What about an adventure holiday, eh?'

‘You can't be serious! Tim's much too young,' said Mum.

I still didn't say anything. I went on watching telly. But my heart had started thumping under my T-shirt.

‘He's nine, for goodness sake!' said Dad.

‘But he's young for his age,' said Mum.

I still didn't say anything. I went on watching telly. I stared hard at the screen, wishing there was some way I could step inside.

‘Tim?' said Dad.

I didn't look round quickly enough.

‘Tim! Stop watching television!' Dad shouted.

I jumped.

‘Don't shout at him like that,' said Mum.

‘I'm not shouting,' Dad shouted. He took a deep breath. He turned his lips up into a big smile. ‘Now, Tim – you'd like to go on an adventure holiday, wouldn't you?'

‘He'd hate it,' said Mum.

‘Let him answer for himself,' said Dad. He had hold of me by the shoulders.

‘I – I don't really like adventures much, Dad,' I said.

Dad went on smiling, but I think he wanted to give my shoulders a shake.

‘Well, what do you like, Tim?' asked Dad.

‘Watching telly,' I said.

Dad snorted.

‘And drawing and reading and doing puzzles,' said Mum. ‘And he comes top in all his lessons at school. Apart from games. You know he's hopeless at sport.'

‘Only because he doesn't give it a try,' said Dad. ‘I was Captain of football and cricket when I was a boy.'

Dad had tried to teach me football. Dad had tried to teach me cricket.

He had tried. And I had tried. But it hadn't worked.

‘Tim can't help being bad at games,' said Mum, pulling me away from Dad.

She gave me a cuddle.

‘It's because you've turned him into a right Mummy's boy,' said Dad. ‘I think an adventure holiday would do him the world of good.'

He wouldn't listen to Mum. He wouldn't listen to me. He booked the adventure holiday.

‘You'll love it when you get there,' said Dad. Over and over again.

He bought me new jeans and T-shirts and trainers and a stiff soldier's jacket to make me look tough.

Mum bought me a special safety helmet to wear all the time to keep me safe.

I didn't feel tough. I didn't feel safe.

I needed to hug Walter Bear very hard when Dad drove us to the Adventure Centre. Dad said I shouldn't take a teddy bear with me because the other kids might laugh at me. Mum said I couldn't get to sleep without Walter Bear. I didn't say
anything
. I hugged Walter even harder, sniffing in his sweet dusty smell.

Dad looked in his driving mirror and saw what I was doing.

‘Tim!' said Dad, turning round to frown at me. ‘Come on, you're doing it deliberately. Put that silly bear
down
. You'll be sucking your thumb next.'

He was watching me, not watching the road. An old banger suddenly overtook us, making Dad swerve.

‘Idiots!' Dad shouted, peeping his horn.

A girl leaned out the open window of the car and yelled right back.

‘Slowpokes!' she shouted, and pulled a silly face.

‘I hope that girl's not going on the adventure holiday,' said Mum.

I hoped she wasn't going on the
adventure
holiday too. I wished
I
wasn't going on the adventure holiday.

‘Look, Tim! I think that's it,' Dad said excitedly.

I didn't look. I shut my eyes tight. I hoped if I wished hard enough I'd somehow whizz through space and end up safe at home. But Dad was already parking the car. Mum kept going on at me, asking why I had my eyes shut and did I feel sick, and I couldn't concentrate hard enough on my wishing. Then Dad opened the car door and yanked me out and hissed at me to stop messing about and say hello to the lady.