Horrid Henry and the Mega-Mean Time Machine (8 page)

Last time they’d met Henry had tricked Steve into thinking there was a monster under his bed. Steve had sworn revenge. There was nothing Steve wouldn’t do to get back at Henry.

Boy, did Horrid Henry hate Stuck-Up Steve.

Boy, did Stuck-Up Steve hate Horrid Henry.

“I’m not coming and that’s final!” screamed Horrid Henry.

“Henry,” said Dad. “I’ll make a deal with you.”

“What deal?” said Henry. It was always wise to be suspicious when parents offered deals.

“I want you to be pleasant and talk to everyone. And you will eat everything on your plate like everyone else without making a fuss. If you do, I’ll give you $2.”

Two dollars! Two whole dollars! Horrid Henry gasped. Two whole dollars just for talking and shoving a few mouthfuls of disgusting food in his mouth. Normally he had to do that for free.

“How about $3?” said Henry.

“Henry…” said Mom.

“OK, deal,” said Horrid Henry. But I won’t eat a thing and they can’t make me, he thought. He’d find a way. Dad said he had to eat everything on his plate. Well, maybe some food wouldn’t
stay
on his plate…Horrid Henry smiled.

Perfect Peter stopped putting away his blocks. He frowned. Shouldn’t
he
get two dollars like Henry?

“What’s
my
reward for being good?” said Perfect Peter.

“Goodness is its own reward,” said Dad.

* * *

The restaurant was hushed. The tables were covered in snowy-white tablecloths, with yellow silk chairs. Huge gold chandeliers dangled from the ceiling. Crystal glasses twinkled. The rectangular china plates sparkled. Horrid Henry was impressed.

“Wow,” said Henry. It was like walking into a palace.

“Haven’t you ever been here before?” sneered Stuck-Up Steve.

“No,” said Henry.

“
We
eat here all the time,” said Steve. “I guess you’re too poor.”

“It’s ’cause
we’d
rather eat at Whopper Whoopee,” lied Henry.

“Hush, Steve,” said Rich Aunt Ruby. “I’m sure Whopper Whoopee is a lovely restaurant.”

Steve snorted.

Henry kicked him under the table.

“OWWWW!” yelped Steve. “Henry kicked me!”

“No I didn’t,” said Henry. “It was an accident.”

“Henry,” said Mom through gritted teeth. “Remember what we said about best behavior? We’re in a fancy restaurant.”

Horrid Henry scowled. He looked cautiously around. It was just as he’d feared. Everyone was busy eating weird

pieces of this and that, covered in gloopy sauces. Henry checked under the tables to see if anyone was throwing up yet.

There was no one lying poisoned under the tables. I guess it’s just a matter of time, thought Henry grimly. You won’t catch me eating anything here.

Mom, Dad, Peter and Rich Aunt Ruby blabbed away at their end of the table. Horrid Henry sat sullenly next to Stuck-Up Steve.

“I’ve got a new bike,” Steve bragged. “Do you still have that old rust bucket you had last Christmas?”

“Hush, Steve,” said Rich Aunt Ruby.

Horrid Henry’s foot got ready to kick Steve.

“Boudicca Battle-Axe! How many times have I told you—don’t chew with your mouth open,” boomed a terrible voice.

Horrid Henry looked up. His jaw dropped.

There was his terrifying teacher, Miss Battle-Axe, sitting at a small table in the corner with her back to him. She was

with someone even taller, skinnier, and more ferocious than she was.

“And take your elbows off the table!”

“Yes, Mom,” said Miss Battle-Axe meekly.

Henry could not believe his ears. Did teachers have mothers? Did teachers ever leave the school? Impossible.

“Boudicca! Stop slouching!”

“Yes, Mom,” said Miss Battle-Axe, straightening up a fraction.

“So, what’s everyone having?” beamed Aunt Ruby. Horrid Henry tore his eyes away from Miss Battle-Axe and stared

at the menu. It was entirely written in French.

“I recommend the mussels,” said Aunt Ruby.

“Mussels! Ick!” shrieked Henry.

“Or the blah blah blah blah blah.” Aunt Ruby pronounced a few mysterious French words.

“Maybe,” said Mom. She looked a little uncertain.

“Maybe,” said Dad. He looked a little uncertain.

“You order for me, Aunt Ruby,” said Perfect Peter. “I eat everything.”

Horrid Henry had no idea what food Aunt Ruby had suggested, but he knew he hated every single thing on the menu.

“I want a burger,” said Henry.

“No burgers here,” said Mom firmly. “This is Restaurant Le Posh.”

“I said I want a burger!” shouted Henry. Several diners looked up.

“Don’t be horrid, Henry!” hissed Mom.

“I CAN’T UNDERSTAND THIS MENU!” screamed Henry.

“Calm down this minute Henry,” hissed Dad. “Or no $2.”

Mom translated: “A tasty…uh…something on a bed of roast something with a something sauce.”

“Sounds delicious,” said Dad.

“Wait, there’s more,” said Mom. “A big piece of something enrobed with something cooked in something with carrots.”

“Right, I’m having that,” said Dad. “I love carrots.”

Mom carried on translating. Henry opened his mouth to scream—

“Why don’t you order
tripe?
” said Steve.

“What’s that?” asked Henry suspiciously.

“You don’t want to know,” said Steve.

“Try me,” said Henry.

“Intestines,” said Steve. “You know, the wriggly bits in your stomach.”

Horrid Henry snorted. Sometimes he felt sorry for Steve. Did Steve really think he’d fool him with
that
old trick?
Tripe
was probably a fancy French word for spaghetti. Or cake.

“Or you could order
escargots
,” said Steve. “I dare you.”

“What’s
escargots?
” said Henry.

Stuck-Up Steve stuck his nose in the air.

“Oh, sorry, I forgot you don’t learn French at your school.
I’ve
been learning it for years.”

“Whoopee for you,” said Horrid Henry.

“
Escargots
are snails, stupid,” said Stuck-Up Steve.

Steve must think he was a real idiot, thought Horrid Henry indignantly.
Snails
. Ha ha ha. In a restaurant? As if.

“Oh yeah, right, you big fat liar,” said Henry.

Steve shrugged.

“Too chicken, huh?” he sneered. “Cluck cluck cluck.”