It was the Friday before half term. 'Guess what?' said Mum as if she was really pleased. 'We're going to spend the week at Green Park Holiday Village.'

'Do we have to?' I said. 'I want to stay at home and solve crimes. I was thinking of checking out the local bank for robbers.'

Mum didn't listen. 'The chef has been rushed into hospital, Damian, and they've asked me to do the cooking.'

'Hospital?' I said. 'What kind of excuse is that?'

'My half term will be ruined.'

She couldn't see it.

'Treat it as a holiday,' she said. 'It'll be fun. There are lots of chalets built in a wood. And there's even a small swimming pool.'

It wasn't exactly Disney World but I suppose I could put up with it.

'OK, Mum. I'll go,' I said. 'I'll take my bike.' But she shook her head.

'There won't be room in the van, Damian. I've got cakes and gateaux and quiches to bake tonight. It'll be packed full.'

She went on and on about how much work she had to do. And whenever I slipped the word 'bike' into the conversation, she just shouted, 'NO! NO! NO!'

The next morning, Mum was not in a good mood.

'WILL YOU PLEASE GET UP, DAMIAN!' she yelled from the kitchen. 'We've got to go in five minutes!'

Anyway, just to please her, I got dressed and went downstairs. The van was in the drive with the back doors wide open. Mum had loaded it already and I noticed that there was still plenty of room for my bike. All I had to do was push the pies and cakes and quiches to one side.

I looked over my shoulder.Mum was busy locking up the house.There was time to sneak over to the shed and find my bike. Quick as I could, I wheeled it across to the van and lifted it into the back. With only a bit of shoving, it fitted snugly between the steak pies and the chocolate gateaux.

The deed was done.

I slammed the doors shut knowing that Mum would never notice.