Howard mopped his brow.
‘It’s about your
‘AAGGH!’ she
‘That’s good,’ said Howard, ‘because he, Mr Bullerton I mean, the real one, not me, is going to be St Apricot’s Guest of Honour.’
‘Super. Now look at this,’ said JB Undercracker, fiddling with the scooter. ‘It’s got a very interesting mechanism.’
‘Err, yes,’ said Howard. ‘So as I was saying, he’s importantly making some time for a speech and, and prizes and… busy schedule…’
‘I’ve always wondered how these things worked,’ said JB Undercracker, spinning the wheel.
‘That was parts one and two of the message,’ said Howard, pressing on, ‘and part three was to tell you you’re lucky.’
‘Aren’t we just,’ said JB Undercracker, beaming. ‘Is that everything?’
‘I think so,’ said Howard.
‘No, it isn’t,’ hissed Purvis, from inside the bag. ‘You’ve forgotten the plinths, cordials etc.’
‘OH, YES!’
shouted Howard, ‘I nearly forgot. We’ll be needing some plinths and cordials.’
‘Plinths?’ said JB Undercracker.
‘And cordials,’ nodded Howard.
‘Etc,’ hissed Purvis.
‘There might be a bottle of orange squash in the kitchen,’ she said. ‘Would that be of any use?’
‘It’s a start,’ said Howard.
‘Or I’ll tell you what, how about a nice cup of tea instead? You look as though you could do with one.’
‘Yes please,’ croaked Howard.
‘Good man,’ said JB Undercracker, slapping him on the back. ‘Leave the bag in my office and come with me.’
‘I’d prefer to keep hold of it, thank you,’ said Howard.
‘Nonsense,’ said JB Undercracker. ‘It’s far too big. What’s in it?’
‘NOTHING,’
shouted Howard. ‘Nothing at all.’
‘Well in that case you won’t be needing it, will you?’ she said, wrestling it from him, and flinging it into a nearby room. ‘Come along, Mr Bullerton.’ She climbed onto the scooter and shot off up the corridor, with Howard trotting worriedly behind.
Mickey Thompson heaved a disappointed-sounding sigh.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Purvis.
‘Well, if they’ve gone for a cup of tea they’ll probably be having a biscuit or something, won’t they?’ he said.
‘Possibly,’ said Purvis.
‘Or a slice of cake.’
‘You never know,’ said Purvis.
‘Or a little sandwich, even.’
‘Your point being?’ said Purvis.
‘We won’t get any,’ said Mickey Thompson. ‘And we didn’t have any breakfast. And I’m hungry.’
‘Me too, now you mention it,’ said Purvis. ‘Let’s have a look around: maybe JB Undercracker’s got a biscuit tin.’
So they all climbed out of the bag and had a look around. They searched through the cupboards, rummaged amongst the bookshelves, explored under the desk and checked behind each and every one of JB Undercracker’s nick-knacks, photographs and certificates, but there was no biscuit tin.
‘Bother,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Oh well, I don’t suppose Howard will be much longer,’ said Purvis. ‘We can ask him to take us all for a café lunch before we go back to the office.’
‘But I need something now,’ groaned Mickey Thompson, clutching his tummy. ‘I’m feeling dreadfully faint.’ He staggered dramatically and collapsed against a nearby vase.
‘CAREFUL!’ shouted Purvis, as it toppled.
‘Oh dear,’ said Purvis.
‘I didn’t mean to,’ said Mickey Thompson, unhappily. ‘Do you think JB Underthingy’ll be very upset?’
‘I expect that depends on how fond she was of the vase,’ said Purvis, as they examined the broken pieces.
‘The pattern was pretty,’ said Mickey Thompson, even more unhappily. ‘I’d have been fond of it, if it had been mine.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Purvis. ‘The bits are quite big. We could probably glue them together…’
‘Ooh!’ said Mickey Thompson, brightening.
‘If we had some glue.’
‘Ah,’ said Mickey Thompson, deflating. ‘I don’t remember seeing any when we were going through everything just now.’
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив