The Bolds in Trouble Page 9

  Why was the broom late?

  It over-swept!

  How do you make an octopus laugh?

  With ten tickles!

  But there was no response from the passengers.

  ‘Tough crowd,’ said Mr Bold to himself. ‘Try this one...’

  Why did the clock get called to the headmaster’s office?

  For tocking too much!

  Then, as they drove along the busy Kingston bypass and had almost given up all hope of seeing either fox, Sylvie let out a sudden yelp.

  ‘There! I saw something furry by the side of the road. Stop! Stop!’

  Mr Bold couldn’t stop right at that moment, but there was a hard shoulder a few metres ahead and he pulled in there.

  ‘You stay in the car, Sylvie. Mr McNumpty and I will investigate,’ instructed Mr Bold. But before he could open the car door, Bert, no longer in his overalls, looking dishevelled, suddenly appeared at the window.

  ‘No, don’t get out the car, please!’ said the distressed fox. ‘It’s dangerous. And too awful to see. Let me in. I’ll come with you and explain.’

  ‘Bert!’ exclaimed Sylvie as he got in the back of the car next to her. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Oh, Sylvie!’ said Bert, gently stroking her face. ‘I tried to stop him running across the road, but he wouldn’t listen. He ran straight out and a lorry came and...’

  ‘You mean – Mossy is...?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sorry, my dear. He was struck by the lorry and he died instantly.’

  Sylvie covered her eyes and began to wail. ‘Can I see him?’ she sobbed.

  ‘I think it would be better if you remembered him as he was,’ said Bert. ‘The Mossy we knew and loved in Bushy Park.’

  ‘He’s right,’ said Mr Bold. ‘Let’s get you home.’ And he shook his head in sorrow and pulled back out into the traffic, heading for Fairfield Road.

  ‘Why was he crossing that busy road in the first place?’ asked Mr McNumpty.

  ‘He saw me on the other side, and he was still so angry he just wasn’t thinking properly. I shouted at him to stop, but...’

  ‘He always hated cars,’ said Sylvie through her tears. ‘His father was killed by one years ago. And of course they carry people around, and he always thought he was smarter than any human being. It’s too awful.’

  There was shocked silence inside the little Honda as they drove back to Teddington. But as they reached the gates to Bushy Park, Sylvie opened the window and took several deep gulps of air, closing her eyes.

  ‘Would you mind stopping here, Mr Bold?’ she asked politely. ‘I just need a moment.’

  It was dusk now, the sky streaked with pink. Sylvie got out of the car and wandered to the edge of the ferns, which seemed to wave as if beckoning her.

  Bert followed her. ‘Sylvie. Are you all right?’

  ‘There is no reason now why I can’t go back to my old life in the park, and live like a proper fox,’ she replied.

  ‘But what about me?’ asked Bert. ‘Could you not come and live with me in Hampton Wick? I have a lovely house...’

  ‘I could if that was what I wanted. But it isn’t. Living like a human is not for me, Bert,’ said Sylvie, looking out across the green ferns. ‘This is my home, here.’

  ‘But now Mossy is gone, I thought you and I could find happiness together. My garage business is successful and, well, I love you, Sylvie,’ said Bert.

  ‘And I love you too, but I’m not going to live my life doing what another fox wants me to do. I’ve spent too long in a life I didn’t enjoy out of loyalty to Mossy. Now I need to live the life I want to lead. As a wild vixen in the park. My mind is made up,’ said Sylvie firmly. ‘I don’t want the same life that you do.’

  Sylvie returned to the car and said goodbye to Mr Bold and Mr McNumpty. ‘Please thank Mrs Bold for being my friend. And the twins. Everyone. I shall miss you all a great deal, but I’m not going back to Fairfield Road.’

  And Mr Bold, Mr McNumpty and Bert watched as she wandered away into the undergrowth.

  Later that night Mr Bold and Mr McNumpty returned to the Kingston bypass with a shovel. When no one was about, they placed Mossy’s body in the boot then drove to a quiet grassy spot on Ham Common and buried him.

  Then for a few moments, the hyena and the grizzly bear stood in respectful silence over the fox’s grave.

  And that night the quiet of Bushy Park was disturbed by a pitiful high-pitched wail.

  ‘But where has Sylvie gone?’ asked Bobby and Betty. ‘Will she be OK?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ their mother reassured them. ‘Sylvie will be fine, she just needs some time. She is free of Mossy now though. Free to go back to being a real fox again. A fox that doesn’t steal things. I know that’s what she wanted.’

  Several months later

  All was back to normal at 41 Fairfield Road. The twins were happy and mischievous and the students were progressing well. Mrs Bold’s hat stall at Teddington market had been going from strength to strength. Her ‘Edible Collection’ was even featured in the Teddington Gazette. People came from miles around to see and purchase such unique headwear and it was even suggested she might like to open a shop on Teddington High Street. Mrs Bold was very flattered by the idea but decided she’d miss the cheery atmosphere of the market and the other friendly stallholders.

  ‘Besides,’ she said. ‘I enjoy selling hats on Saturdays and making them on the other days. If I was in a shop every day, I’d run out of hats rather quickly!’

  Then, to everyone’s astonishment, a photo appeared in a posh glossy fashion magazine of two (minor) royal princesses at a horse race wearing what was unmistakably a matching pair of Mrs Bold’s mud bonnets!

  The next Saturday the stall was besieged with lots of women in expensive clothes and dark glasses demanding mud bonnets. Dozens of orders were placed.

  ‘Will we have enough mud, though?’ pondered Mrs Bold.

  ‘We’ve got enough mud for a thousand hats, silly!’ said Mr Bold.

  Can you guess what he was referring to? Where was there lots of earth going spare?

  So it was all hands on deck at Number 41 the following week. The twins’ job was to carry bucketloads of earth downstairs from Mossy and Sylvie’s abandoned den, then Mr Bold poured in water at the kitchen sink and stirred the mud until it was just the right consistency. Uncle Tony and Mr McNumpty sat at the kitchen table with bowls over their heads and Mrs Bold sloshed the mud on top, while Miranda the marmoset monkey leaped from table to counter scattering feathers on the still-wet bonnets in a tasteful, artistic manner. (Luckily Snappy had recently molted, so there were plenty of feathers around.) Once the mud had set, the bonnets were eased off the bowls and placed on the draining board to await final touches. Dozens of mud bonnets were made ready for the next market day.

  ‘We’ll make enough money for another holiday in Cornwall!’ declared Mrs Bold.

  ‘Hurrah!’ cried the twins.

  And then, as if life couldn’t get more exciting, one morning Mrs Bold received a very important-looking envelope with the crest of Buckingham Palace on it.

  She opened it and gave a shriek. ‘We’ve been invited to a royal garden party!’ she said breathlessly.

  ‘Wow!’ said Betty. ‘Whatever shall we wear?’

  ‘Hats, of course!’ said Bobby.

  The big day arrived and the Bolds were beaming with pride as they lined up outside 41 Fairfield Road to get into the Honda, which had been given an especially thorough clean by Mr Bold and the twins that morning.

  ‘Before we go to the Palace, let’s take a short diversion through the park,’ said Mrs Bold, giving her husband a knowing wink.

  ‘The park? But we mustn’t be late for the Palace,’ said a concerned Betty.

  ‘There’s someone we need to say hello to and thank on the way, that’s all,’ replied Mrs Bold. ‘Stop just here, now we’ll all get out and wait for a moment.’

  ‘There’s no one here!’ said Bobby as they sat quietly in a grassy cl
earing.

  ‘Hush!’ said Mrs Bold. ‘Be patient!’

  After a few minutes there was a rustling sound and a face peeped out through the ferns. It was a fox.

  ‘Sylvie!’ gasped Betty.

  ‘Hello, everyone,’ said Sylvie. ‘You all look smart. Where are you off to?’

  ‘We’re going to London, to a royal garden party. Those mud bonnets you helped me to make have become all the rage. I just wanted to say thank you and see how you’re getting on, after I got your note telling us you had a new den and were happy.’

  ‘Oh, it wasn’t me who wrote it,’ replied Sylvie. ‘I’m a wild fox, remember?’

  Sylvie moved over to where the Bolds were sitting and looked over her shoulder. Another fox followed her.

  ‘Bert!’ said Mrs Bold. ‘It was you who wrote the note and popped it through our letterbox! Are you two...?’

  Bert nodded, ‘So glad you could pop by.’

  ‘Yes, we are a couple now,’ said Sylvie shyly. ‘Bert came to find me after...’

  ‘I realised we were meant to be together,’ said Bert, gazing lovingly at Sylvie. ‘She could never live as a human, and I could never be happy without her. So I gave everything up and followed my heart. We’re living here, where we are happiest, in Bushy Park. And there is something else to tell you,’ he added before giving a high-pitched call. A second later a cheeky, adorable little fox cub scampered out of the tall grass and ran to Sylvie, its mother. Then another cub. And another. The three mischievous young cubs peered at the Bolds for a few seconds, their eyes wide with curiosity.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Sylvie said to them. ‘They’re friends.’

  A few minutes later, protected from prying human eyes by the tall ferns, the fox cubs were climbing all over their new friends, nibbling and tugging at clothes and playing happily, tails wagging.

  Everyone laughed and smiled with animal joy.

  Eventually Mrs Bold said, ‘We really ought to be going. The garden party, remember?’

  ‘Must we?’ asked Betty.

  ‘This is much more fun!’ said Bobby, as one of the cubs began to chew his newly made hat.

  And so the Bolds never made it to the palace. They were having their own party with the foxes.

  They were having such a lovely time they didn’t notice the change in the weather until heavy drops of rain began to fall.

  Perhaps it is just as well they didn’t go to Buckingham Palace. The sudden rainstorm took the guests at the royal garden party by surprise too. The two royal princesses, busy chatting to Lord and Lady Someone-or-other and wearing their mud bonnets, were caught in the deluge.

  And what happens to a mud bonnet when it gets wet? Yes, that’s right. Large brown trickles of wet mud began to drip down the royal faces.

  You might think this was a disaster for Mrs Bold, and would spell the end of her hat business. But guess what? Mud is a very well- known restorative face treatment for tired skin. And the next day the princesses were positively glowing with an ethereal beauty they, quite frankly, didn’t have before. And so Mrs Bold’s hats became even more popular than ever before!

  So sometimes, even if things go wrong they do, somehow, go right in the end. Funny how things work out, isn’t it? And I do mean FUNNY!

  The End

  MR BOLD'S JOKES

  Why did the pup chase his tail?

  He was trying to make ends meet!

  What do you do if a pup eats a dictionary?

  Take the words out of his mouth!

  How do you hide a horse?

  Mascarpone!

  What’s huge and grey and sends people to sleep?

  A hypno-potamus!

  How do you tell the difference between a pup and a marine biologist?

  One wags a tail, the other tags a whale!

  Why was the biscuit sad?

  Because his mummy was a wafer so long!

  How do you approach an angry Welsh cheese?

  Caerphilly!

  What did the cheese say to himself when he looked in the mirror?

  ‘Halloumi!’

  What did the grape say when the fox trod on it?

  Nothing. He just let out a little wine!

  What did the left eye say to the right eye?

  Between you and me, something smells!

  How many skunks does it take to make a big stink?

  Quite a phew!

  What do you get when you cross a parrot with a centipede?

  A walkie-talkie!

  Why did the chicken cross the playground?

  To get to the other slide!

  What did the buffalo say to his kid when he dropped him off at school?

  ‘Bison!’

  What bird steals soap from the bath?

  Robber ducks!

  What do you call an alligator in a vest?

  An investigator!

  Why couldn’t the teddy bear finish his dinner?

  He was stuffed!

  What woke the ghost up in the middle of the night?

  Coffin!

  Knock Knock!

  Who’s there?

  Ice cream!

  Ice cream who?

  I scream every time I see a ghost!

  Did you hear about the man who slept under a tractor?

  He wanted to wake up oily in the morning!

  What has four legs and goes ‘boo’?

  A cow with a cold!

  What happens when it rains cats and dogs?

  You have to be careful not to step in a poodle!

  Did you hear about the man who went to the doctor with rhubarb sticking out of each ear and custard up his nose?

  The doctor told him to eat more sensibly!

  Why did the woman run round her bed?

  Because she was trying to catch up on her sleep!

  What do you call a sheep with no legs?

  A cloud!

  What did the cat say when he lost his money?

  ‘I’m paw!’

  What do you get if you cross a llama with a tortoise?

  A turtleneck sweater!

  What game should you never, ever play with unicorns?

  Leapfrog!

  What did the big bucket say to the little bucket?

  You look a little pail!