Jamie Brown Is NOT Rich (5 page)

2. A
cheque for a whole truckload of cash.

3. A
mini
for a mouse.

4. A
spy bug from the North Western shores of the Amazon.

5. A
blank sheet of paper … okay, that would suck and I don’t know why it popped into my head, but it did!

Mum moved in slow motion.

I was going crazy!

Finally, it was open.

Mum pulled out what was inside.

It wasn’t a mini
for a mouse.

It wasn’t a blank sheet of paper.

It was a letter.

We all held our breath as we read it.

Dear Tracey, Marcus, Jamie, and the baby whose name I don’t know.

Firstly, Tracey, I must apologise for the way I left. You are my favourite great-great-niece twice removed, and I wanted to say goodbye, but no one, not even you, could know where I was going.

People changed. Our family became money-grabbing vultures who would have stepped over their own grandmother to get their hands on my Hand Pillow™ money.

They don’t realise, money can’t buy happiness … JUST KIDDING! Of course it can, if you are wise, and that is why I’m writing!

The time has come for me to re-enter your life, although sadly we cannot meet again just yet. You were always going to inherit my money, but as I plan on living a good while longer, I want to give a portion of it to you now.

I want you to be able to enjoy it.

The cheque in this envelope is for a billion, trillion dollars! Not quite, but it does have a LOT of zeroes. Spend it wisely, and choose who you tell about it wisely (by that, I mean don’t tell anyone, the money-grabbing vultures!).

Oh, and you should move from the Hovel. I have purchased and furnished a house for you in Snootyville, and enrolled Jamie in Snootyville Grammar. It’s a nice little house, and the address and security codes are on the back of this letter.

Yours,

Barnaby Von Barnabus

Everyone breathed out except for me.

I breathed in and copped all their smelly breath at once, which almost knocked me out. We couldn’t afford a lot of toothpaste.

Mum looked in the envelope and pulled out the cheque. It WAS a lot of zeroes. It didn’t look exactly like this, but it
was
close!

We all read the letter again. Snootyville. I’d never even heard of it, but it sure sounded, well, kind of snooty. Snootyville Grammar did too, certainly way snootier than good old Hovel Central, the school I went to now.

But this was it. I’d seen the light, and now this was my chance, our chance, to live a new life, a better life than Mum and Dad had now.

Dad was dead against it though.

‘I don’t know. Money can bring a lot of trouble.’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Trouble like a mansion!’

‘True, but can it really buy happiness?’

‘Maybe not, but it can buy you a foot massager.’

Dad rubbed his chin.

‘Hmmm, that
would
make me happy,’ he said.

Mum joined in.

‘We can’t rush this, Jamie. We’ll be like fish out of water in Snootyville.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘A fish out of water would be like this …’

‘Even if we don’t use the money now, it will be there when we need it,’ Mum said.

I couldn’t be argued against though.

‘Or,’ I said quickly, ‘we could all fall down a Hovel Street pothole tomorrow and never be seen again! Soooooo, maybe we can move to the house my favourite Uncle Barney bought us. You know, the one with the pool and the games room and the personal mini-golf course and the carpet softer than a thousand clouds of marshmallows?’

Dad’s eyes widened.

‘A
huuuuge
shed,’ I said, ‘with every tool you need and brand new shiny parts!’

Mum was getting excited now, too.