Tuesday 4 October 2011

Margaret Jones' Childhood Adventure


‘Gotcha!’ Margaret shouted as she leapt down from her hiding place in the trees. As she fell she tugged on a rope, which released a net onto the growling beast below. She landed with a roll and looked triumphantly at her catch. The giant jungle cat had been stalking her for days but Margaret had planned the perfect trap. The beast swiped at the net with its razor claws and bared its deadly teeth, promising revenge. Margaret was not that afraid of the beast; in fact, she had faced worse monsters on her adventures, but had a sudden sickening thought that those claws may be able to cut through her cleverly woven net. Now was the time to leave. She scurried through the bushes just as her cat, Tibbles, batted the lacy handkerchief off his back and stared after Margaret balefully. Not amused, he padded towards the house in hopes that he could sneak a fish from the cook, or maybe even steal a lick of cream.

Margaret had not seen her home in a while; for nearly 5 months she had been on her adventures. But she had not missed home at all. She had wrestled with a bear, and won; though Mr Teddy’s seams were now split and his arms hung at funny angles. She had beaten a dangerous tribal queen in a duel; only now Judith did not want to come over to play anymore. She had even survived a river full of man-eating sharks; but Goldie had to be flushed down the toilet. 

However, the main reason for her adventure was to find the rarest plant in the whole wide world. The Papaver Rhoes. There had used to be millions before a great giant had plucked them all and kept them for himself. Margaret was determined to find the last one, deep in the heart of the Amazon rainforest. If she were to bring it back she would be the greatest explorer, ever! She must keep going, no matter how hard it may get.


Days had passed since she caught the jungle cat and she walked many miles, yet she felt like she was still no closer to finding the Papaver Rhoes. Her throat was parched and her tummy rumbling, yet she still would not give up. She had heard a rumour from the Monkey King that it would be found on top of the largest mountain and Margaret had been climbing it ever since. The top, hidden by clouds, seemed so far away as if she would never get there and she had seen no sign of the flower. As she reached the summit and the clouds parted in front of her she lost hope completely. There was no plant life up here let alone the rare Papaver Rhoes. But, wait! What was that? A flash of red had appeared. Margaret ran full pelt towards the red object. Yes! This was definitely the Papaver Rhoes, she had studied the ancient sketches of it in her journal every night of her exploration and she would recognise its frilly petals anywhere. She got onto all fours and crawled towards it, filled with trepidation, as if one hasty step would blow it off the mountain. As she got closer her heart beat faster and faster. If she could take this plant back to England she could start her own Papaver Rhoes plantation and become famous. She pulled out her trowel and leaned forwards to collect her prize.


‘Magaret Jones! What on Earth do you think you are doing?’


Margaret jumped at the sound of her name and turned to see her gardener, Bessie, glaring at her with her hands on her hips.


‘My Poppies! You’re tearing up my plants again, you naughty girl. And in your Sunday best! Wait till your Mother hears about this.’


Before Margaret could do anything else, Bessie had pinched her by the ear and dragged her out of the crumpled flower bed,. Would she ever get to discover the Papaver Rhoes?

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