around my Gertie."

"Is she alright?"

"She's fine. The glasshouse is locked so there's no harm done.""

"Who's Gertie?" I asked.

Mr. Oldgum shone the torch fall in my face, like an interrogator, making sure I was really telling the truth.

"Promise you won't tell anyone if I show you?" he said.

"I promise."

He went to the glasshouse door and unlocked the padlock. The chain clunked against the side of the door-frame as he went in. I followed him. It was humid and warm inside, making me take a deep breath. The torch danced about as Mr. Oldgum went down to the far end.

"Here she is," he said.

I didn't know what to say. There, like a beached whale, was the most enormous orange pumpkin I had ever seen. And wrapped around it, with the zip half done up, so only the top part of the fruit showed, was the big, blue bag.

"You'll not tell a soul, will you?" whispered Mr. Oldgum.

"Never!" I whispered, shaking my head as well.

"It's for the Fruit and Vege Show" said Mr. Oldgum, "Next month. I don't want the other competitors to know, or they won't compete. Some of them don't like losing, so they don't put an entry in unless they're sure they'll win. This year, I'm going to beat them all!"

I was sure he would. He had a pumpkin big enough to drive down the street!

"Would you like to come inside for a cup of tea?" Mrs. Oldgum asked me.

When I got home later that night, I made a resolution. From now on I would still look at washing-lies, but that was as far as it went. Even if I saw multi-coloured socks with three toes, or jerseys with four sleeves, or blankets with animal-shaped holes in their middles, I would keep pedalling, and leave the mysteries for someone else to solve.

And Gertie did win at the Show.