‘Yeah,’ shouted Mason from somewhere behind his father. ‘Yobs!’ Suddenly a large, fat, very tomato-ish tomato went whizzing past my ear and splatted on the wall behind. It was quickly followed by another tomato, which also just missed me but hit a young man on the back of his head.
‘Hey! Who did that?’ The young man whirled round just in time to see Mason about to launch another tomato. The man seized a cucumber from the salad table and hurled it at Mason. The cucumber went cartwheeling through the downpour and hit an old lady right between the shoulder blades.
In an instant the room was a whirling mass of vegetables criss-crossing each other, people running and shouting, some hiding under tables, others standing on the tables and chucking vegetables right, left and centre. And all the time the water carried on cascading down from the ceiling. Dad grabbed hold of the twins. ‘This way!’ he said, finally getting us to the exit and we stepped outside into the dry just in time to watch the fire engine pull up. Out leaped six firemen, who quickly unrolled their hoses.
The Fire Chief started yelling instructions at his men and the hotel manager rushed out and shouted at the Fire Chief. I think Arif was trying to tell him there was no fire, but it was too late. They were already dashing into the hotel, hoses on full SPLURGE setting.
Dad looked at us and shrugged.
‘Let’s go to the beach and have an ice cream,’ he suggested. So we did. The ice-cream man gave us some very peculiar looks, which wasn’t surprising as we were all soaked. We sat on the beach, watched the sunset and waited for everything at the hotel to calm down.
7. The Hissing Bush
It was three hours before we were allowed back into the hotel. The dining room was still dripping with water, but the fire crew had gone and all was fairly quiet. The spray from the hoses had washed away most of the tomato splats but there were still rather a lot of mashed and squashed vegetables lying on the floor, not to mention an aubergine that had somehow got stuck to the ceiling.
Luckily there was no sign of the Grubnoses. Maybe they’d been mown down by an avalanche of tomatoes. I hoped so.
Arif, the hotel manager, apologized to all of us for what had happened and assured us that he would get to the bottom of the disaster and find out how it had started. Mum shook her head.
‘I tripped on something and fell. It might have been my camera that hit the fire alarm. It was an accident. I’m so sorry,’ she explained.
But the manager wouldn’t hear of it. ‘No, no, not your fault. It was that Irfan. I know him. He is always doing crazy things to make people laugh.’ He scowled. ‘He is hotel worker, not a comedian. I am always telling him. He has gone too far. Irfan is to blame. Heads must roll.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Mum, looking even more worried than before.
‘Is Bumpy all right?’ Tomato asked, squeezing my hand.
‘I’m sure Bumpy’s fine,’ I answered.
The manager was looking at us curiously. ‘Who is Bumpy?’ he asked.
We all looked at each other, rather frantically. Who was going to say what?
‘My tortoise!’ said Tomato.
‘You’ve got a tortoise?’ asked the manager. ‘In my hotel?’
‘Yes, and she’s –’
‘Stuffed!’ I interrupted.
‘A stuffed tortoise?’ repeated the manager.
‘I mean, it’s a toy tortoise. A stuffed toy.’ I gave Tomato a hard stare. ‘It’s your favourite toy, isn’t it, Tomato?’ I kept nodding at her and smiling encouragingly.
Seconds seemed to pass. Minutes seemed to pass as I waited for Tomato to catch on. Would she? The silence continued. Tomato took a deep breath. I was still holding mine!
‘Yes,’ she said at last, and I started breathing again. So did Mum and Dad, but the hotel manager hadn’t finished with us.
‘Excuse me, but is Tomato a common name for a girl in Britain? And Cheese for a boy? It sounds very strange.’
Dad puffed up his chest proudly. ‘These are the only twins in the world called Cheese and Tomato.’
‘But why give them such strange names?’ asked Arif.
‘They were born in the back of a pizza delivery van,’ Dad explained, as if that made it all perfectly clear and OK.
The manager’s eyebrows slid up his forehead. ‘Oh,’ he murmured, and Mum could see that he was struggling with the idea, trying to make sense of it all. She quickly brought the matter to a close.
‘Come on, upstairs, all of you. It’s bedtime.’
So we all said good night to Arif and left him at the bottom of the stairs with his eyebrows still stuck at the top of his head.
‘It’s about time we sorted out this nonsense about tortoises,’ said Mum as we went into our room.
Well, of course Mum soon discovered it wasn’t nonsense at all. There was Bumpy, living proof, still plodding up and down the bath and occasionally staring at the plug hole as if it might be an escape tunnel if only he could fit into it.
‘Good grief!’ cried Mum, and then she began laughing. ‘He’s quite big, isn’t he? How on earth did the twins manage to bring a tortoise back from Letoon? We never noticed anything. Did you know about this, Nicholas?’
I shook my head. ‘Not until Tomato showed me when we got back to the hotel. It was a bit late by then and I thought it was safer for the tortoise to stay in the bath than taking him back outside and dumping him.’
‘Hmm.’ Mum paused and thought. ‘First thing tomorrow we must take Bumpy – as you call him – out to a wild patch and let him go.’
‘Nooo!’ squeaked Tomato, her face collapsing and her bottom lip suggesting that a flood of tears was imminent.
Mum crouched down to hug her. ‘Darling, this is a wild tortoise. It’s not like Schumacher, our tortoise at home. Schumacher has been with us since he was a baby. He’s a pet. Bumpy is a wild tortoise who likes to explore and meet other wild tortoises. Making Bumpy into a pet would be like putting him in prison. We have to let him go.’
Tomato sniffed. Cheese peered over the edge of the bath.
‘Shall I put the lettuce back then?’ he asked.
Mum was mystified. ‘What lettuce?’ she asked.
Cheese began to pull a great wodge of lettuce leaves out of his pocket.
‘Where on earth did that lot come from?’ asked Mum.
Cheese looked at me. ‘There were some on the table downstairs and Nicky said we needed to feed Bumpy so I got some.’
Mum sighed and rubbed her forehead. ‘Leave it in the bath for now,’ she said. ‘Then he’ll be able to find it if he wants something to eat.’
What an exhausting evening! There was one strange thing I noticed before I went to bed. I had slipped downstairs to check on the kittens. As I went past Reception I saw the Grubnoses talking to the hotel manager and Irfan. The Grubnoses were scowling at Irfan, and Arif, the manager, was wearing a very serious face while Irfan appeared not to understand what the problem was. I tried to catch Irfan’s eye so he could see I was going to look at the kittens but he was too taken up with whatever little drama was taking place with the Grubnoses. When I headed back upstairs to bed they had all vanished.
We didn’t see Irfan at breakfast. It was unlike him not to be there. The dining room was still closed and we sat at tables outside, in the sunshine, which was lovely. Turkish breakfasts are the best!
There weren’t all that many guests eating breakfast, which was a little strange. Usually it is a really busy time. We also missed Irfan, who always chatted with us and made us laugh.
We were halfway through breakfast when I heard a nearby bush hiss at me. My first thought was that it was a snake, but it didn’t sound quite right. The hissing was quite regular too.
‘Psssst! Psssst! Psssst!’
It was definitely coming from the bush. I looked at it carefully. Suddenly some of the branches parted and a face appeared.
‘Irfan! What are you doing?’ I whispered, and by this time the rest of the family had noticed too.
‘I
’m hiding in bush,’ said Irfan, which was perfectly obvious.
‘I can see that. Why?’
‘I have no job!’ he answered and he drew his finger across his throat. ‘Manager say all my fault. Lots of guests have left hotel and gone to a different one. All because of water, tomatoes, mess, fire – all my fault. Manager says.’
‘But it wasn’t anything to do with you!’ I exclaimed.
‘I know. But Mr Manager, Arif, he wants to blame someone. He doesn’t like me because always happy. Me always happy. Him always grimpy.’
‘Grumpy?’ I suggested, and Irfan smiled.
‘Yes, grumpy. Now Arif blame me and I have no job.’
‘Oh, Irfan, I’m so sorry,’ said Mum. ‘I think it was my fault. I told the manager, but he said someone else was to blame. I’m so, so sorry,’ she repeated.
‘Some people told manager it was me,’ Irfan said quietly.
‘No! Who?’ cried Mum. ‘Who would do such a thing?’
I knew. Dad knew. I think Mum knew too.
The Grubnoses. Of course – that was what they were up to last night.
Irfan shrugged. ‘What can I do? I can’t say anything. Mr Manager has decided. He won’t listen.’
Dad was quietly growling to himself, like an angry tiger. Now he leaned forward, closer to Irfan.
‘Listen to me, Irfan. We will sort this. We will get your job back. I don’t know how, but we shall. Keep in touch with us so we can tell you what is going on.’
‘Tamam. OK.’ Irfan nodded. ‘I still have friends in hotel. They will tell me too. You are my friends too.’
‘Of course we are!’ I said, while Cheese and Tomato suddenly got off their chairs, rushed across to the bush and started hugging it. At least it looked like they were hugging the bush. One or two people saw them and wondered what was going on but didn’t say anything.
Dad got up. ‘I’m going to have words with the manager right now,’ he said.
‘I’m coming too,’ said Mum. ‘The fire alarm going off was my fault. I won’t have the manager blaming you, Irfan. Nicholas, keep an eye on Cheese and Tomato, OK?’
I nodded and watched Mum and Dad head off to the manager’s office. As soon as they were inside the hotel Irfan spoke to us again.
‘You remember kittens I showed you?’
‘They’re so SWEEEET!’ squeaked Tomato.
‘I’m not in hotel now, so I can’t look after them. Maybe –’
‘– WE CAN!’ shouted Cheese.
‘Sssh,’ said Irfan. ‘No one must know. You bring them to me and I will take them.’
‘We’ll get them,’ said Cheese, so I gave him my keycard for the door. Cheese pulled at his sister. ‘Come on. I’ve got an idea.’
The twins disappeared. I wasn’t sure if I should go after them but I was certain they would be OK with the kittens and it gave them something to do.
Five minutes later they were back, with no kittens. Instead they handed Bumpy the tortoise to Irfan. I quickly explained about how we ended up with a tortoise.
‘She’s wild,’ Tomato told Irfan seriously. ‘And she has to go to a wild place.’
‘But where are the kittens?’ asked Irfan, rather bewildered by all this animal swapping.
‘In our bedroom, in the bath!’ Cheese announced triumphantly. ‘We’re going to look after them instead of the tortoise and take them home on the plane and they will live with us forever and ever!’
8. The Big Splash
Mum and Dad didn’t get anywhere with the hotel manager. Arif was convinced that Irfan had caused the trouble that led to all the damage and the ruined evening. It was true that several guests had already left for other hotels. Arif was losing business and was not a happy man.
In the meantime I had found a small basket for the kittens and settled them down under my bed where they couldn’t be seen.
Now we were all sitting round the hotel pool, at least Mum and Dad and I were lounging while Cheese and Tomato splashed about in the shallow end, wearing their arm bands and generally trying to drown each other. (Just joking!)
We had also been joined by Ice Cream. That dog hung around outside the hotel all the time, waiting for us to appear. Then she would cheerfully follow us wherever we went. She seemed to think she belonged to us, or maybe it was the other way round, and we belonged to her. Somehow she had managed to get into the hotel’s back garden, where the pool was, and now she was sunbathing, spreadeagled next to Dad’s chair.
Across the pool on the far side I could see the Grubnoses watching the twins as if they were some kind of low life, like giant slugs that should be quickly sprayed with something terribly shrivelling.
‘So, just how are we going to get Irfan’s job back?’ Mum asked Dad, her eyebrows raised.
‘I shall think of something.’ Dad sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. ‘Now let me cogitate in peace,’ he murmured.
Mum looked at me and rolled her eyes. ‘Cogitate? That’s a big word for a small brain! What’s the betting he’ll start snoring any moment?’
Two minutes later it began
SNNNNNNRRRRRRRRRRRR!
‘Told you so,’ said Mum. She didn’t see Dad open one eye and wink at me. I winked back and we left him to his cogitations. Over on the far side of the pool I saw Mason scowling at me. He pretended to pull a pin from a hand grenade and chuck it in my direction. Charming!
The twins were getting noisier. They were chasing each other right round the pool and then they would hurl themselves into the water, laughing and giggling and trying to make the biggest splash.
Mr Grubnose suddenly put down his book and got to his feet.
‘Can’t you control those two monsters of yours?’ he bellowed across at us. He pointed at a notice in Turkish at one end of the pool. ‘You do understand what that notice says? It says NO JUMPING IN THE POOL. SPLASHING IS FORBIDDEN.’
Dad was woken by the shouting. He sat up. ‘It’s in Turkish,’ he shouted back at Mr Grubnose. ‘They can’t read Turkish. Leave them alone. They’re just enjoying themselves.’
‘WOOF! WOOF! GRRURRFFF! FFFFFF! WOOOOFF!’ went Ice Cream, now on her feet and baring her teeth at the noisy man on the other side of the pool.
Dad laughed. ‘You tell him, Ice Cream!’
Mr Grubnose waved a fist, sat down in a huff and snatched up his book.
(Much later on, Irfan told us that the sign didn’t say anything about jumping at all. It just said: ATTENTION! SHARKS IN THE POOL! Irfan had made it and put up the sign himself, as a joke.)
The twins carried on chasing each other and splashing about. Ice Cream thought it all looked like a lot of fun and trotted over. She barked at them cheerfully and followed them round and round, trotting after them with her tail held high and wagging madly. Then Tomato jumped in the pool and Ice Cream followed, landing with a big splash and madly doing the doggy paddle across to her.
Cheese squeaked with delight and went for the biggest splash ever. He leaped high into the air and a moment later he came thumping down into the water.
A gigantic cascade of water sprayed up over the side, engulfing all three Grubnoses.
That was it. They were furious! I thought all their heads would come shooting off their necks they were so mad. Even Mason was hopping about as if his fabulously expensive orange trainers were on fire – which was impossible since they were soaking wet. Ha, ha!
I can’t tell you exactly what they said because there were some bad words involved. They went on and on about pool rules and no dogs and disgusting children and hooligan families and a dreadful hotel and this shouldn’t be permitted and that shouldn’t be permitted. I ended up thinking it’s amazing we were actually allowed to breathe.
The Grubnoses went storming off to speak to the hotel manager and the next thing was Arif came striding angrily across to us to let us know that the Grubnoses had left the hotel to go somewhere better and more peaceful and it was all our fault.
Oh dear. (And the manager doesn’t ev
en know about the three kittens in the bedroom, yet!) Arif yelled at Ice Cream and aimed a few kicks at her (which all missed), driving her out of the garden and back on to the street.
Cheese and Tomato stood beside the pool and watched in horror. I tried to comfort them.
‘Don’t worry. She’ll be back. She won’t have gone far.’
‘Bad man!’ said Tomato.
‘Poo man!’ muttered Cheese.
‘Arif is just doing his job,’ I told them. ‘After all, this is his hotel. Some of the guests don’t like cats and dogs. The manager has to deal with that.’
‘Why don’t they like cats and dogs?’ asked Tomato.
‘Some people don’t. Maybe they’ve met a bad dog. Maybe they’ve been bitten by a dog. Then they might think most dogs are like that and they want to feel safe so they won’t go near them.’
‘Cats don’t bite,’ said Cheese.
‘Yes, they do, and they scratch too.’
‘They don’t scratch everyone,’ Tomato put in.
‘No, not everyone,’ I agreed.
‘Only bad people,’ Tomato added.
‘I don’t think it’s as simple as that,’ I began, but Tomato was already formulating her plan.
‘So, so, so the scratchy people can go somewhere else and the un-scratchy people can come here and the kittens won’t scratch them. They’ll just prrr-prrr miaow and say hello.’
Tomato seemed very satisfied with her solution to the problem and carried on. ‘And the bited people can go somewhere else too and the unbited people can come here and Ice Cream can go swimming with us again.’
I sighed. ‘I suppose so. Anyhow, you say “bitten”, not “bited”.’ But Tomato wasn’t interested in that. She had sorted out the world of cats and dogs and hotels and that was all that mattered.
My Brother's Famous Bottom Makes a Splash! Page 4