The Most Marvellous Spelling Bee Mystery Read online

  About the Book

  Just when India Wimple’s life is returning to normal after competing in THE STUPENDOUSLY SPECTACULAR SPELLING BEE, she’s invited to London for an international spelling showdown. But how can she go without her family? The Yungabilla community might have a solution! In London, India is reunited with her friends Rajish and Summer. They meet new spellers, and are invited to Buckingham Palace to meet the Queen.

  But there is skulduggery afoot, with a series of mysterious mishaps. There is even talk of cancelling the competition altogether.

  India and her friends are determined to find out who the culprit is and get the Spelling Bee back on track.

  There are words to be spelled, nerves to be overcome, and a champion to be found!

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1. Triumphant

  2. Disheartened

  3. Avaricious

  4. Namby-pamby

  5. Conundrum

  6. Preparation

  7. Monumental

  8. Nonchalant

  9. Unforeseen

  10. Determined

  11. Serendipity

  12. Oblivious

  13. Fortune

  14. Gumption

  15. Epiphany

  16. Debonair

  17. Tenterhooks

  18. Sabotage

  19. Culprit

  20. Revelation

  21. Nemesis

  22. Dudgeon

  23. Exonerate

  24. Grand Final

  25. Au revoir

  About the Author

  Imprint

  The Beginning

  Thank you to Hannah Mae,

  who was one of India’s first fans,

  and to Mia and Emma,

  who insisted I write this book.

  India Wimple could spell. Brilliantly. So brilliantly, in fact, that her family and country town of Yungabilla decided she would be the perfect candidate for The Stupendously Spectacular Spelling Bee.

  Trouble was, India didn’t agree.

  For those of you who’ve met the Wimples, you know they’re a family who never gives up, especially when it comes to each other. So with a clever plan and some colourful animal onesies, they convinced India to enter the Bee. With Mum, Dad, Nanna Flo and her brother, Boo, by her side, she made it all the way to the Sydney Opera House for the Grand Final … and won!

  That was some feat for a young girl from a small town, who was so nervous at even the thought of standing in front of strangers that she would often freeze on the spot.

  This wasn’t because India was unsure about how to spell – she was always sure of that. It was mostly because of something that happened to her when she was young, something frightening and sad, and even a bit humiliating, that left her terribly anxious.

  But after India’s triumphant win, her life became a flurry of interviews and photo shoots, and now that she was home she hoped to get her old life back. The one with quiet afternoons lying beside Boo in their backyard while Mum told stories, or sitting in Gracie’s Café, sipping vanilla milkshakes, or reading on her bed for hours with no-one paying her any attention at all.

  But Mayor Bob had other ideas.

  Which is why we start our story during a party on Main Street, with cake stalls, fresh juice stands, a sizzling barbecue and the whole town seated in rows facing a podium with a banner made by Yungabilla Primary School that said:

  Welcome home, India Wimple,

  Australia’s Spelling Champion!

  The gymnastics troupe had just performed a series of shaky somersaults before their human pyramid collapsed under swooping magpies, and now the town was enjoying the school band, which was playing an unrecognisable tune where no-one could hit a single right note, or even play the wrong notes at the same time.

  When the trombone player nudged the trumpeter in the back of head, causing her to almost fall off the podium, the band came to an abrupt stop and scrambled back to their seats to rousing applause. It may not have been the best school band but it was Yungabilla’s school band, and that was something to cheer about.

  Mayor Bob led the applause, his generous cheeks filling like balloons as he smiled. ‘Thank you for that fine rendition of …’ He realised he had no idea what it was. ‘That classic tune. And now, to the reason we are gathered here today. It gives me great pleasure to invite Yungabilla’s newest hero and champion speller, India Wimple, to the stage.’

  India clenched her fist, crumpling the speech she’d prepared, while the audience hooted and clapped.

  Even though she’d learned to manage her nerves during the Spelling Bee, the idea of standing in front of her entire town sent shivers right down to her toes. She silently hoped she wouldn’t trip or faint.

  Oh no. India hadn’t thought of that. What if I faint?

  Luckily, that was when Dad leaned over.

  He took the balled-up speech and smoothed it out. ‘We’ll be right here if you need us.’

  Nanna Flo, Mum and Boo each nodded.

  And, just like that, India felt better. Simply being with her family made her feel braver, and even though she was still a little scared, she stepped onto the podium to excited applause and whistles.

  ‘Go India!’ shouted Daryl, Dad’s best friend and Wimple family fan.

  ‘India Wimple,’ Mayor Bob said, ‘as a token of our tremendous admiration, I present you with … the Yungabilla Medallion.’ He placed the ribbon and medal around India’s neck. ‘The Medallion is awarded to our finest, like Mathilda Hide, who rescued a herd of cows from a muddy bog. And Daryl Proudman, who saved a busload of schoolkids from being swept into floodwaters. You showed those city slickers the Yungabilla spirit and made us very proud.’

  The crowd were on their feet again, led by the cries of Daryl and the Wimples.

  India looked at the expectant faces of the towns-people, all of them smiling and eager to hear what she had to say.

  She’d lived in Yungabilla all her life and knew nearly everyone. There was Gracie Hubbard from the café; Mrs O’Donnell from the bakery, who made India’s favourite blueberry cheesecake; Joe Miller the butcher; her teacher, Mrs Wild; and all the kids from school. They were there, just to see her.

  You can do this, India Wimple.

  This was the voice in India’s head. When it first started, it often warned her that her greatest fears were about to come true, but after winning the Bee, it had become her devoted fan.

  ‘Dear Mayor,’ India read from her notes, ‘thank you for your kind words, and to everyone here for all the support you gave me during the Stupendously Spectacular Spelling Bee. Without you and my family, I’d never have been able to –’

  India didn’t say another word, because at that precise moment Farmer Austin’s prize-winning cow, Bessie, pulled away from her owner’s normally strong grip and stampeded through the crowd.

  ‘Bessie!’

  People dived out of the way, sending chairs flying as Bessie zigzagged towards the podium, straight towards India.

  ‘Oh no,’ she breathed.

  Dad leapt up beside her and swept India out of the way, just as the cow barrelled past, knocking over the microphone stand and tearing through the school’s specially made banner.

  ‘Bessie!’ Farmer Austin sprinted after his cow, who crashed into a drinks stand, splashing juice over everyone nearby. That’s when Austin realised where she was headed.

  ‘Watch out, Mrs O’Donnell!’

  For India’s special ceremony, Mrs O’Donnell had filled an entire table with her homemade scones, vanilla slices and lamingtons – lamingtons
that were now being flung into the air in a whirlwind of coconut and sponge cake as Bessie gleefully guzzled them down.

  Farmer Austin finally managed to reach her. He tugged at her rein and offered her hay from his back pocket. ‘Sorry, everyone. She’s normally very calm, but lamingtons drive her crazy.’

  India stared down Main Street. Bessie had left a trail of destruction: upturned tables and a carpet of squashed cakes and scones.

  Dad muttered to India, ‘It’s going to be hard to top that.’

  As the townsfolk of Yungabilla staggered to their feet and wiped cream and cake from their clothes and faces, another surprising thing happened.

  ‘India!’ Mrs Rahim from the post office raced towards them. Her headscarf and dress fluttered behind her and she was waving something above her head. ‘There’s a special delivery for you,’ she puffed. ‘All the way from England.’

  The crowd parted to let Mrs Rahim through. When she reached the podium, she handed India a cream-coloured envelope. It was addressed in swirling gold lettering and sealed with a red wax crest.

  ‘I don’t know what it is,’ she tried to catch her breath, ‘but it seems important. I can feel it.’

  The whole town watched as India carefully broke the seal and slipped out the letter. She read it again and again, unable to believe it was real.

  ‘What does it say?’ Dad asked.

  Everyone gathered closer as India read it aloud, careful not to miss a single word.

  Dear India Wimple,

  As the Australian champion of the Stupendously Spectacular Spelling Bee, you are hereby invited to compete in the Most Marvellous International Spelling Bee in London, England. The top three spellers from each participating country will join us …

  India couldn’t go on, mostly because the town burst into raucous cheers and Bessie let out a loud moo. Daryl and the rest of the Wimples climbed on stage and smothered India in hugs. Boo caught her eye through the tangle of arms and gave her a look that said, That’s my sister.

  Mayor Bob pulled the microphone from a puddle of orange juice and wiped it against his shirt. ‘Our very own India Wimple is going to represent our small town on the world stage.’ A blob of vanilla slice slid from his hair to his shoulder. ‘This is going to make Yungabilla a tourist destination not to be missed. Now we really need to celebrate!’

  There was spontaneous singing and dancing, and the school band attempted another tune, although it was hard to tell what it actually was.

  As the town lined up to shake India’s hand and wish her the best, she kept thinking about something else in the invitation that she hadn’t mentioned. A small detail she knew would ruin the moment, which she couldn’t do, not when everyone looked so happy, including Dad, who grabbed Mum and twirled her around while Nanna Flo, Boo and Daryl clapped and urged them on.

  Yungabilla was in the middle of a drought that had devastated farms, closed businesses and forced people to leave town and find work somewhere else. Their population had dwindled to only four hundred people. In the last few years, good news had been rare. India knew she’d soon have to tell them what else was in the letter, but for now she tucked it into her pocket, and the party continued long into the night.

  ‘My daughter is going to London!’

  Dad was still excited by India’s invitation and shouted the news all the way home, kicking up his heels and occasionally bursting into song. India loved seeing her Dad so happy, even though the neighbours were probably not so happy about his singing.

  ‘Why doesn’t he have any of your talent?’ Boo whispered to Nanna Flo, who back in the day was known to be quite the songstress.

  ‘Beats me.’ Nanna pulled her hat over her ears. ‘I love your father, but I’ve heard cows in labour sound sweeter than him.’

  They sniggered sneakily and continued walking in the moonlight.

  When they reached home, Nanna Flo made a round of hot chocolates while Dad told stories of when he and Mum lived in London as a young couple. He described all their favourite places and how this time it was going to be even more special because the whole family would be there.

  India knew it was time to tell Dad the truth.

  ‘I have an announcement to make.’

  ‘Is it that I have the smartest daughter in the world?’ Dad took a noisy sip of hot chocolate.

  ‘Not quite,’ she said. ‘I’m not going to London.’

  Dad spluttered his drink all over the table. ‘What?’

  ‘I’ve decided not to accept the invitation.’ India tried to sound determined, but she could hear her voice waver.

  ‘It’s natural to feel nervous,’ Mum said, ‘but you’ll be magnificent.’

  ‘It’s not nerves, Mum. It’s this.’ India pulled the letter from her pocket and began to read:

  As an invited contestant, all expenses will be paid for you and one chaperone for the duration of the Bee.

  India slowly looked up. ‘There’s no way we can all afford to be there, and I can’t compete if you’re not with me. So I’ve decided I’m not going.’

  India’s family weren’t wealthy – not even close. Dad was a handyman, who was often paid in IOUs, second-hand clothes and homemade jam. Money became even tighter when Mum quit her teaching job a few years back after Boo’s asthma worsened, to be with him at home, just in case.

  ‘We’ll find the money,’ Dad decided, pounding his fist on the table. ‘We did for the national bee, we’ll do it again.’

  India loved Dad’s optimism, so she tried to let him down gently. ‘Raising enough money to go to Sydney was one thing, but how can we find enough to travel to London?’

  ‘You leave that to me.’ Dad tapped his temple as if he had a grand plan.

  ‘It’s a lot of money, Arnie.’ Nanna Flo was a whiz at maths. ‘With airfares, hotels and cabs … I’d say we’d need an extra … eight thousand dollars.’

  ‘That much, eh?’ Dad’s smile drooped, until he pushed aside his mug and gave India his most confident gaze. ‘This opportunity only happens to the very best. Maybe you’re right – maybe we can’t afford for every one to go – but that doesn’t mean you have to miss out.’

  ‘It does,’ India argued. ‘I only had the courage to spell last time because you were all with me.’

  ‘Yes, but remember how you thought you weren’t brave enough to even enter. Guess what? Turns out you were more than brave enough!’

  ‘Your dad’s right.’ Nanna Flo nodded. ‘You’re as brave as a bull ant, and you need to be there.’

  ‘And I want the world to know how smart my sister is,’ Boo said.

  ‘You do want to go, don’t you?’ Mum checked.

  ‘Yes,’ India had to admit. She wanted to stand on stage with the world’s best. To see if, maybe, she could even win.

  ‘That’s settled then!’ Dad sat back in his chair. ‘Now all you have to do is choose one of us to be your chaperone, and we can start planning what to pack.’

  It sounded simple, but the idea of travelling to England without all her family made India feel as if she was standing on the edge of a very tall cliff.

  ‘But who will I choose?’

  ‘Can I go?’ Boo asked hopefully.

  ‘Nice try, buddy,’ Dad tousled his hair, ‘but a chaperone has to be someone older, preferably with a driver’s licence.’

  Boo shrugged. ‘It was worth a try.’

  An uneasy silence followed, until Nanna Flo spoke up. ‘I’ve got it. As much as I’d love to go to England – with all those fancy castles and yummy pork pies – I think you should take your mother or father. They’ve worked their backsides off to get you this far, and I think they deserve to see you shine.’

  ‘But I’ll miss you if you’re not there.’

  ‘You’ll be back before you know it.’ Nanna Flo was trying to be brave, but the Wimples knew she’d miss India too.

  ‘I won’t hear it,’ Mum said. ‘It should be your father or Nanna Flo. I need to stay here to take care of Boo.’
/>   The thought of this made India’s stomach tighten. ‘But I’ve never been that far away from you before. Or Boo.’

  Mum tried to answer, until she frowned and her mouth clamped shut.

  ‘I’ve got it,’ Dad said. ‘You should take your mum or Nanna Flo. It’ll be a trip for the girls.’ He hugged Boo. ‘Us boys will stay here, look after the fort and do manly stuff.’

  Boo wasn’t sure what ‘manly stuff’ meant, but considering how clumsy Dad was with tools, he was a little scared.

  India slumped in her chair. The Wimples were only trying to help, but she was even more confused than ever.

  Mum kissed her on the forehead. ‘Whatever you decide will be fine by us.’

  This didn’t lift India’s mood. In fact, it made her feel a bit worse, because she knew her mum meant it. India’s family was the most important thing about her – her anchor in rough seas – and here was her mum saying it was okay to go to the other side of the world without them.

  India felt sick. She used to feel this way a lot before the Stupendously Spectacular Spelling Bee. Even the smallest things would make her anxious – giving a speech in class, adults talking to her in the supermarket, the evening news on the television. Sometimes even answering the phone made her feel nauseous.

  ‘There’s always Skype,’ Mum said, still trying to sound cheerful. ‘We can see each other and talk every day.’

  ‘Or when you need to practise,’ Nanna Flo added.

  ‘Or when you’d like to hear Mum tell more stories of Brave Boo and Ingenious India,’ Boo said.

  ‘Or I could sing you to sleep,’ Dad offered. There was an awkward pause – no-one dared tell Dad his singing actually kept the neighbourhood awake. ‘It’ll feel like we’re right there with you.’