First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2018
Published in this ebook edition in 2018
HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,
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London SE1 9GF
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Text copyright © Adam Baron 2018
Illustrations copyright © Benji Davies 2018
Cover and interior illustrations copyright © Benji Davies
Adam Baron and Benji Davies assert the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of the work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
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Source ISBN: 9780008267018
Ebook Edition © 2018 ISBN: 9780008267025
Version: 2018-06-04
Almost all of this novel is dedicated to
Ben and Ollie Robinson.
The first line of page thirty-eight is
for their parents, though.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Oh no – wait.
About the Publisher
Here’s something you won’t believe.
I, Cymbeline Igloo, have never been swimming.
It’s the swimming bit you won’t believe, by the way, though if you don’t believe my name either, it really is Cymbeline Igloo, and you have to believe that because it’s written on my schoolbag and in my jumpers and on lots of other things, like my passport. You won’t believe I’ve never been swimming because I mean totally never. Not ever. Not once, in my whole life. I am nine years old! I am the third-best footballer in Year 4 (joint) and the second-best at roller-skating after Elizabeth Fisher and she goes to a club on Sundays. I am fit and healthy and totally normal in every way (apart from my name) but I have never set foot in the sea, a river or a lake, not to mention an actual, normal, everyday swimming pool.
Not in my life.
Until last Monday.
I blame my mum. Totally. She’s just never taken me. Not as a baby, not as a toddler, not when I was at nursery or when I was in Key Stage One. When I’ve asked why, she’s come up with rubbish excuse after even more rubbish excuse. We don’t go to the beach because she’s allergic to sand. Rivers, she says, are where crocodiles live (we live in south-east London). Lakes, she tells me, are like lochs, which could contain things like the Loch Ness monster, which is so dangerous (not) that no one has ever actually SEEN IT (sorry, Scotland, but it’s true: your monster is rubbish).
