Spy Dog Teacher's Pet

by Andrew Cope

Ben went off to see if he could borrow the money from his dad. He found Mr Cook wearing a white chef’s hat and a silly apron, trying not to burn sausages on the barbecue.

  In the meantime, more and more people were flooding into the playground and the stalls were beginning to get busy.

  A minute later, Lara came wandering past the stall and gave Gran a friendly wave. Bric-a-brac’s not really my thing, she thought. Whack the Rat sounds interesting, though. I wonder what it is?

  Then Lara noticed something out of the corner of her eye. She stopped walking and did a double take. That plate on Gran’s stall … it looks a lot like … It reminds me of … But no, it can’t be, that’s silly …

  Spud came bouncing up to her. ‘Come and have a go at this, Ma!’ he said excitedly. ‘It’s not a real rat – just a pair of old socks. Someone drops them down a drainpipe and you have a baseball bat and when they come out you try to whack them before they hit the ground, like this …’ WHACK! WHACK! ‘It’s great!’

  But Lara was trained to act on her suspicions – she couldn’t just brush them aside.

  ‘Maybe later, Spud; I’ve just got to go and check something now …’

  As Lara trotted off towards the school buildings, Ben came back to the stall with the money he had borrowed from Dad. ‘I’d like to buy that plate for Mum’s birthday,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, that’s a lovely idea,’ said Gran, wrapping it up again in the newspaper that it came in. ‘Now, you don’t want it to get broken,’ she added. ‘So put it out of the way somewhere until it’s time to go home.’

  Ben looked around for a safe place. I wonder if I could leave it inside the school, he thought. I’ll go and ask Mr Thompson.

  Ben found Sophie’s teacher peering through a hole in a cardboard wall while a line of children – and one or two of his colleagues – waited to aim wet sponges at him. Lots of people missed their target, but even so, poor Mr Thompson was completely drenched, with water running down his forehead and into his eyes. Somehow he was still managing to smile.

  ‘Excuse me, Mr T,’ called Ben, holding up the wrapped plate. ‘Would it be OK if I put this in your classroom for a bit? It’s china and I don’t want it to get broken.’

  ‘Ouf! Phoo!’ replied Mr Thompson, as a sponge thrown by a girl of about five caught him squarely on the nose. ‘Goodness, Tilly, you can certainly pack a punch! Er, yes, Ben, that’s fine. Put it in my desk. It’ll be quite safe there. Aargh! Urgh!’ he exclaimed as another sponge hit him on the chin. ‘Nice shot, Edward! OK, Ollie, you’re next!’

  Meanwhile Lara had gone straight to the head teacher’s office where a group of mums were busy organizing change for the stallholders. They all knew Lara so they weren’t surprised when she sat down at the head’s computer and turned it on.

  Lara typed STOLEN GREEK PLATE into the search box and waited for the computer to link her to the news website she and Sophie had been looking at the day before. This time Lara leant forward and studied the picture more closely.

  It was of a medium-sized, reddish-brown-coloured plate with swirly black decorations all round the rim and in the centre, a very distinctive painting of a black horse with huge wings spread out as if it were flying. That’s it! Lara’s eyes were open wide. That’s the plate on Gran’s bric-a-brac stall!

  13. The Odd Couple

  ‘I think this fete’s going to be a great success!’ said Mrs Cook as she handed over the last of the professor’s books to a delighted lady physicist. ‘I can’t believe how many people have come!’

  All the children from the school were there with their families, neighbours and friends. Older children who had moved on to secondary school had come back and were marvelling at how small the chairs were in the Year One classroom, and little ones who were still at nursery were brought along to give them an idea of what ‘big’ school was like.

  The teachers had come along too. Some of them, like Mr Thompson, were helping with the stalls, and others were happily buying raffle tickets and drinking cups of tea. Even Mrs Simpson, who was on maternity leave, came with her teeny tiny baby in a sling. So many girls gathered round to take turns holding little Martha that someone said Mrs Simpson should be charging for every go!

  The animal neighbourhood watch team were well represented – several of the bigger dogs, including Potter, had gathered around the barbecue area and Scottie had stationed himself permanently under the table where the cakes were being sold.

  In the general crush one couple in particular didn’t really stand out, even though, on closer inspection, they did look a bit odd. The man was tall and thin with a ginger beard and thick-rimmed glasses. He was wearing a panama hat pulled well over his eyes. The woman was very solidly built, to say the least, and was wearing a tight red dress with white spots that looked like it might burst at the seams at any minute. She had long, luxuriant blonde hair, rather like Miss Piggy’s, and was wearing big sunglasses and a lot of red lipstick. She had a large white handbag and matching shoes. The heels of the shoes weren’t particularly high, but she seemed to have trouble walking in them.

  ‘I feel completely ridiculous,’ she muttered to her partner in a surprisingly gruff voice. ‘Are you sure I can get away with this, bruv?’

  ‘You look lovely, Dale!’ said the man out of the corner of his mouth, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead. ‘Our own mother wouldn’t recognize you. Come on now, gorgeous, we’ve got to get on with the job.’

  Dale and Cliff made their way to the bric-a-brac stall and started looking through the contents.

  ‘May I help?’ asked Gran pleasantly. ‘Are you looking for anything in particular?’

  ‘Erm, yes,’ said Cliff. ‘We’re looking for a plate – er – we’re going to buy a cake, you see, and we want something to put it on.’

  ‘Ooh, well, we’ve got one or two nice plates,’ said Gran. ‘There’s a pretty little one here with flowers on it. What about this?’

  Cliff looked at Dale. ‘We were looking for something a bit bigger and a bit more – er – classical-looking, weren’t we, dear?’

  ‘Yahs,’ said blonde Dale in a high-pitched and surprisingly posh voice. ‘In darker colours, like – erm – red and black.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a pity,’ said Gran, ‘because we did have a plate just like that. Really interesting it was; it had some kind of animal on it, I think. But it’s just been sold. My grandson bought it, actually – it’s his mum’s birthday soon, you see, and –’ But her two customers weren’t listening. They had turned away and were having an urgent muttered conversation.

  ‘Excuse me! How much for those antlers?’ Gran turned away to serve another customer.

  ‘Some dratted kid has bought it!’ snarled Dale.

  ‘Well, we’d better find him quickly, then,’ snapped Cliff. ‘Ask the old dear what he looks like.’

  ‘I can’t, she’ll suspect something.’

  ‘Yes, you can – you’re a woman, don’t forget; you’re meant to be interested in kids. Go on!’ Cliff gave Dale a little push so that he tottered slightly in his white court shoes as he turned back to the stall.

  ‘How lahvely to have a grandson!’ he said in his strange new voice. ‘What does he look … erm … Does he look like you at all?’

  Gran smiled. Her grandchildren were her specialist subject. ‘No, not really, bless him, although I like to think he’s got my blue eyes. His hair’s like his dad’s, though, not like mine at all.’

  ‘Ask her what it’s like,’ hissed Cliff.

  ‘Oh, really?’ said Dale. ‘Is it – er – curly or straight?’

  ‘It’s pretty straight, really; mine’s always had a natural curl – mind you, my sister’s hair has always been straight, so maybe he takes after her.’

  Dale glanced back at Cliff and rolled his eyes. Cliff tapped pointedly at his clothes. Dale looked blank. Then he had a brainwave.

  ‘And, er, I suppose he’s very fashion-con
scious, is he, your grandson? What sort of clothes does he wear?’

  Gran laughed. ‘They all are, aren’t they, these days. He’s a great one for … oh, excuse me, I must just help that lady with those golf clubs!’

  Dale turned back to Cliff. ‘Hopeless. The kid’s got blue eyes and straight hair along with half the other kids at the fete,’ he muttered.

  At that moment Ollie, who was doing star jumps on the bouncy castle, shouted loudly, ‘Gran! Gran! Look at this! Watch me!’

  ‘Oh yes, dear. Very nice!’ called Gran, as Ollie carried on jumping. She turned to the woman she was serving. ‘That’s my grandson,’ she said proudly. ‘He’s always so full of beans!’

  Dale and Cliff looked at one another and smiled.

  ‘Bingo!’ said Cliff.

  14. Hunting for Ben

  Back in the head teacher’s office, Lara’s mind was racing as she stared at the crime report on the computer screen. She didn’t know how it had got there, but she knew there was a priceless antiquity lying unrecognized among all the junk on Gran’s stall. Anyone could buy it – or it might get damaged – or broken. Aaargh! I’ve got to act fast!

  The Spy Dog quickly clicked on PRINT and waited impatiently as the paper shuffled slowly out of the head’s rather elderly printer, then she grabbed the paper in her mouth and ran out of the building.

  ‘Oh, there you are, Lara!’ Sophie came running up to meet her. ‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Do you want to come and see me have my face painted?’

  I wish I could, Sophie, but I’m on an urgent mission – and maybe you can help! Lara showed the article to Sophie, tapping it meaningfully with her paw. Then she started to pull Sophie towards Gran’s stall. Come on, Sophie, follow me. When you see the plate, you’ll get the idea!

  Sophie quickly realized that Lara had something on her mind. ‘What’s the matter? Is it something to do with this stolen plate?’ she asked. Lara nodded vigorously.

  They reached the stall and Lara started hunting for the plate. It was just over there beside that yellow vase … Oh no! Where is it? Someone must have bought it while I was away!

  ‘Gran, have you seen a plate like this, by any chance?’ asked Sophie, showing Gran the picture.

  ‘I can’t see very well without my glasses, dear,’ said Gran. ‘But it looks a lot like the one Mr Thompson brought in with all that other stuff he found in his garden shed.’

  Lara’s brain whirred into overdrive. So this was the solution to the mystery that had been bugging her for days! All the different pieces of the puzzle suddenly fell into place.

  Now I get it! Those two crooks are after that plate. That’s why they searched Mr Thompson’s house, and the school, and that’s why they threatened him. And Mr T had no idea! Of course, it all makes perfect sense!

  Now there was just one problem – and Sophie was on to it straight away, ‘Where is the plate now, Gran?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, Ben bought it to give to your mum for her birthday. Wasn’t that nice? He’s gone off to put it somewhere safe.’

  Phew! thought Lara. Thank goodness! Now we just have to find Ben and then tell the police.

  ‘It’s funny …’ went on Gran, ‘everyone seems to be interested in that plate today. Some other people were looking for one like that too. I told them it was sold, of course. Nice couple, they were, really chatty – and interested in Ben as well. I must say you meet some lovely people at these school dos.’

  Lara felt the fur on her back standing on end. Yikes! Those two must be the crooks – who else would be asking about that particular plate? And Gran’s gone and told them that Ben’s got it! They’ll be after him now – and they’re hardened criminals who’ll stop at nothing!

  Sophie saw the alarm on Lara’s face. ‘It’s OK,’ she said. ‘We’ll split up and look for Ben. He can’t be far away. I’ll go this way; you go that way, Lara.’

  Lara began to hurry through the crowded playground, looking and listening carefully to everyone around her. As she got to the bouncy castle she noticed Ollie deep in conversation with two strangers – a bearded man in a hat and a heavily built blonde woman in a spotty dress. The pair didn’t match the pups’ descriptions of the baddies, but Lara’s training still put her on full alert.

  There’s something odd about that woman. What is it? Her hair looks strange … and she’s standing in a funny way …

  Lara moved closer so she could listen in on their conversation. She casually sniffed the ground, deliberately avoiding eye contact so they wouldn’t notice her. That’s the advantage of being a dog. People don’t realize you’re listening!

  ‘Oh no, it wasn’t me!’ Ollie was saying. ‘You must mean my big brother, Ben. He’s twelve. He always gets Mum a present for her birthday. I usually just make her something – she likes that – or last year I gave her a bunch of –’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, we get it,’ interrupted the man rudely. ‘So, where’s your brother now? Has he still got the plate? Or has he given it to your mum already?’

  ‘No, he definitely wouldn’t have done that,’ explained Ollie patiently, ‘because her birthday’s not till next Thursday, I think – or maybe it’s Wednesday, I’m not quite sure. My dad says –’

  The blonde woman’s huge fists were clenched. She leant forward over Ollie in a menacing way, but the bearded man put out his arm to stop her. Lara moved up beside them and gave a low growl. Don’t even think about it …!

  ‘Look, kid, we don’t have much time,’ said the man grimly. ‘Just tell us where your brother is RIGHT NOW!’

  ‘Oh, OK!’ said Ollie, a little taken aback. ‘Well, last time I saw him he was going off to put something in Mr Thompson’s desk. If you’re quick he might still be in the classroom now. It’s Class Five,’ he added helpfully.

  ‘Result!’ the woman shouted in an oddly masculine voice, punching the air. ‘Come on, bruv, let’s go, go, GO!’

  As the pair turned, Lara got a good look at them. Yikes! That isn’t a woman at all – it’s one of the crooks in a dress! And the man in the beard’s the other one!

  Dale and Cliff knew they were hot on the trail now. All they had to do was get the plate from a twelve-year-old kid – and how hard could that be? They hurled themselves through the crowd, knocking over the coconut shy and taking a short cut straight through Year Three’s display of country dancing.

  Dale’s clothes made it hard for him to run, but he pulled up his dress above his knees and did his best. As he pushed past the cake stall he turned his ankle over and only saved himself by putting his hand smack in the middle of a Victoria sponge.

  ‘Must be an emergency,’ remarked the vicar. ‘That poor lady is certainly in a hurry.’

  But Lara was faster – and she’d worked out a quicker way to the classroom. Spy Dogs are trained to keep calm and think clearly in any situation. As she sprinted round the edge of the stalls towards the open classroom window, Lara ran through her priorities in order. One – make sure Ben is safe; two – get the plate back; three – catch the criminals.

  Lara ran past Sophie and Mr Thompson, seeing them in a blur. She could tell that Sophie was telling her teacher about the situation because he was staring at Lara’s printout and looking rather pale, but Lara had no time to stop. She clambered in through the open classroom window, desperate to get there ahead of the two criminals.

  15. The Precious Parcel

  Dale and Cliff burst through the classroom door like two bad cowboys entering a saloon. The room was cool, shady and perfectly still. Through the open window could be heard the faint sound of accordion music and the murmur of distant voices.

  ‘The kid’s gone,’ said Cliff. ‘Good. We don’t want any inconvenient witnesses, do we? Now where’s he put that old plate?’

  ‘Should be in the teacher’s desk,’ said Dale, crossing the room. ‘There’s something here – it’s wrapped in newspaper.’ He opened the paper and glance
d inside. ‘Yessss! We’ve got it at last! Ten million euros’ worth of old china equals our ticket to a life of luxury! Take a good look, bruv, because I’m holding our futures in my hand!’

  ‘Well, don’t go waving it about, you idiot,’ said Cliff. ‘If you break that plate now I swear I’ll break you – into tiny pieces with my bare hands! We’re gonna guard this little baby with our lives – until we’ve passed it over to that Swiss geezer and got the dosh.’

  He took the parcel from Dale and put it carefully into Dale’s large white handbag. ‘Now be careful, right? No sudden movements.’

  ‘Got it,’ said Dale. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here. My feet are killing me.’

  The two men turned, only to find Mr Thompson walking through the classroom door.

  ‘Can I help you?’ he asked pleasantly.

  Underneath a table in the corner of the classroom, Lara and Ben were crouching motionless. Lara had decided the best way to protect Ben was to hide him from the villains. She’d bundled him under the table moments before Dale and Cliff arrived. Ben was surprised, of course, but he always trusted Lara and, as he listened to the men’s conversation, he began to understand why she had been so insistent. When Mr Thompson came in they both stiffened with fear.

  Oh no, Mr T, no heroics, please! thought Lara. These men are dangerous!

  The baddies weren’t pleased to see him, either. ‘Just play along,’ muttered Cliff to Dale under his breath. ‘Remember, he doesn’t know who we are.’

  ‘Good afternoon,’ he said politely to Mr Thompson. ‘My wife and I were just, um, having a look around the school. We’re thinking of sending our little boy here, aren’t we, dear?’

  ‘Yahs,’ said Dale, adopting his posh lady’s voice again. ‘Yahs, that’s right, dahling.’

  ‘I see,’ said Mr Thompson. ‘Well, I’m awfully sorry, but would you mind letting me have a look in your handbag? Just a security check, you know.’