Paddington 2

by Annie Wilson

  “And you are . . . ?” Phoenix asked.

  “Paddington Brown,” said Paddington, raising his hat.

  “Of course you are!” exclaimed Phoenix. “You’re my next-door neighbor.” He beamed. “You live with Henry and Mary and Mrs.—er—Fuh-Nuh-Nuh,” he mumbled.

  “You mean Mrs. Bird,” said Paddington helpfully.

  “That’s the one,” said Phoenix dismissively. “More importantly, do you know who I am?” He pointed to himself and winked at the crowd.

  “You’re a very famous actor,” said Paddington.

  “Oh, blah!” said Phoenix, fluttering his eyelashes with false modesty.

  “Or used to be . . .” Paddington went on. “Now you do dog-food commercials.”

  A snigger ran through the crowd and Phoenix’s smile faded. “Well, a man has to eat,” he said.

  “What, dog food?” Paddington asked, puzzled.

  The crowd erupted into laughter and Phoenix forced a laugh along with them. “Ha-ha! Very funny.” He paused and became dramatically serious and mysterious. “Enough of me . . . They say that at Kozlova’s ‘all your dreams come true.’ Did you know that, young bear? If you could have one wish come true tonight, what would it be?”

  “That’s easy,” said Paddington. “I’d like to get Aunt Lucy a birthday present.”

  “Aww!” Phoenix gushed, clutching his hands together. “How sweet!”

  “Yes, I’ve had my eye on an old pop-up book of London,” Paddington explained. “Made by Madame Kozlova’s great-grandmother, as it happens.”

  Phoenix’s eyes lit up at this bit of information. He quickly tried to hide his interest. “Really?” he said carelessly. “How . . . fascinating.”

  “Yes, just as soon as I saw it I knew Aunt Lucy would love it,” said Paddington.

  “Well, I’m not sure I could promise you that,” said Phoenix. “But . . .” He faced the crowd and raised his voice. “I can promise you will all have oodles of fun, darlings! So, if you’ll lend me a paw, Paddington, I’d like to declare Madame Kozlova’s Steam Fair OPEN!”

  Paddington put his paw on top of Phoenix’s hand and together they pulled a lever. Immediately the old fairground organ sprang to life. Paddington stared in awe as thousands of light bulbs flicked on around the fair and the magnificent old steam rides started moving. The horses spun round and round and up and down on the carousel, the swing-boats began swinging, and the ghost train let out a stream of spooky noises. Paddington couldn’t wait to go and explore.

  He was about to set off to find the Browns again when Phoenix Buchanan took him to one side.

  “Young bear! Young bear! A word in your ear. This pop-up book,” said the actor, looking around to check that no one was listening in.

  “Do you know it?” asked Paddington.

  “I know of it,” said Phoenix, “but I was led to believe it was lost. Where on earth did you find it?”

  Not picking up on the eagerness in Phoenix’s voice, Paddington replied, “I saw it in Mr. Gruber’s antique shop on the Portobello Road. He’s keeping it to one side for me, but it’s very expensive. I don’t suppose you have any advice about making money, do you?” he asked hopefully.

  “Not really, no,” said Phoenix. He was losing interest in talking to Paddington now and rather wanted to get rid of him, as a plan was forming in his mind. “I suppose you’ll just have to start at the bottom of the ladder and work your way up,” he added hurriedly, before turning away.

  Paddington’s eyes lit up. “Do you know what, Mr. Buchanan? You’ve given me a brilliant idea!”

  CHAPTER 6

  Paddington Cleans Up

  Phoenix’s comment about starting “at the bottom of the ladder” had got Paddington thinking. The residents of Windsor Gardens had been saying for some time that they needed to find a new window cleaner. The morning after the steam fair, Paddington announced that he was the bear for the job.

  “I have always fancied a job that involved heights,” he told them. “In Darkest Peru I was very good at climbing trees.”

  He asked Mr. Brown if he could use an old telescopic ladder he had found in the basement. “It will fit into my suitcase beautifully,” he explained. “I’ll have every window in the street cleaned by the end of the day.”

  Surely this will earn me enough money to buy that book for Aunt Lucy, he thought as he went on his way.

  Mr. Brown watched Paddington go down the street with a bucket, some soap and cloths, and the telescopic ladder folded into his suitcase. “Are we sure that bear knows what he is doing?” he said.

  “Oh, darling, you worry too much,” said Mrs. Brown, patting his arm.

  Paddington had decided to start at Dr. Jafri’s house. He extended his ladder and propped it up against the wall, then filled the bucket with water from an outside tap and squirted soap into it. He intended to climb the ladder with the bucket and start cleaning from the top floor down.

  However, when Paddington went to pick up the bucket, he found it was so heavy he couldn’t lift it off the ground. He stopped and considered the situation, then went to his suitcase to see if there was anything of use in it. He found a length of rope and also a marmalade sandwich. The latter proved very fortifying, and once he had finished it he knew what he should do. He took the rope and tied it to the bucket. Then, taking the other end of the rope with him, he climbed the ladder and fed the other end of rope behind a drainpipe attached to the wall. Then he closed his eyes and jumped off the ladder.

  Paddington immediately went whizzing down on the rope at top speed and then—CLUNK! He stopped suddenly, his feet dangling in midair. He opened his eyes to find that he was dangling halfway between the ground and the top of the ladder.

  “Oh dear. I’m too light,” he said, wondering how he could make himself heavy enough to reach the ground. Then he spotted a flowerpot on a window ledge. “That will do!” he said, grabbing it.

  Sure enough, he was now the correct weight. The bucket went up and Paddington went down.

  Feeling rather pleased with himself, Paddington took off his hat with his free hand and used it to mop his brow. Then he put the hat to one side and looked up.

  Now the bucket was coming down again at top speed!

  “Oh no! My hat was the only thing making me heavier than the bucket!” Paddington cried.

  The bucket descended so fast that before Paddington could do anything to prevent it, it fell smack on to his head, emptying its contents all over him.

  “Ow!” cried Paddington.

  He removed the bucket and wiped the soapy water from his eyes.

  From inside the house Dr. Jafri had seen the whole thing. His windows were now covered in soapy water. He looked puzzled, as there was a sudden enthusiastic movement behind the bubbles and Paddington’s face came into view.

  “Sorry, Dr. Jafri!” Paddington called. He was using his furry body to wipe the glass! “There you are—all clean now.”

  Dr. Jafri smiled and shook his head indulgently. “Thank you, Paddington,” he said, opening a window to hand the bear some coins.

  “Thank you, Dr. Jafri,” said Paddington eagerly. “I think I’m getting the hang of cleaning windows now.”

  Paddington decided to try the Colonel’s house next. He rang the bell.

  “Good morning, Colonel,” he said, raising his hat. “Would you like your windows cleaned for a bargain price?”

  “Go away!” said the grumpy Colonel.

  “Are you sure?” said Paddington. “They’re awfully dirty. I’m surprised you can see out of them at all.”

  “I can’t,” said the Colonel. “And I don’t care and I’m certainly not paying you.” He slammed the door in Paddington’s face.

  Paddington decided he would clean them anyway. He couldn’t believe that the Colonel really didn’t care about his windows being so dirty.

  The Colonel stomped back inside his gloomy house and made himself a cup of tea.

  “Bears cleaning windows?” he muttered to him
self. “Whatever next?”

  But as he said this, Paddington finished the first pane of glass and warm sunlight flooded the room for the first time in years. The Colonel went to look out on to the street and saw Miss Kitts, who waved up at him shyly. The Colonel waved tentatively back.

  DING-DONG!

  The Colonel jumped. “Two house calls in one day?” he grumbled. “It’s like Piccadilly Circus here this morning.”

  The Colonel opened the door to see Mr. Curry on the doorstep. Mr. Curry was the Browns’ irritable next-door neighbor. He had taken a dislike to Paddington the moment he had met him. Nothing the bear had done since had changed Mr. Curry’s opinion of him. Today the nosy neighbor was wearing a florescent jacket and hat and carrying a clipboard. He had a megaphone attached to his belt and was looking even more pleased with himself than normal.

  “Good afternoon, Colonel,” said Mr. Curry. “Are you aware there is a bear on your roof?”

  “Yes, I am,” said the Colonel. “He’s cleaning my windows.”

  “Hello, Mr. Curry!” Paddington shouted down. He was on the top floor now. “Would you like me to clean your gutters while I’m up here, Colonel?”

  The Colonel looked up and smiled. “Yes, please, Paddington.”

  Mr. Curry looked disappointed. “Well, it’s not for me to say, sir, but I certainly wouldn’t care to have a wild animal climbing all over the place. And as commander of your Community Defense Force—”

  “Is that an official position, Mr. Curry?” the Colonel interrupted. “Or have you just bought a yellow coat?”

  Mr. Curry looked affronted. He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could get a word out a large clod of dirt landed on his head.

  “Whoops!” said Paddington. He had dislodged the muck from the Colonel’s gutter.

  The Colonel smiled up at him and shut the door in Mr. Curry’s face.

  CHAPTER 7

  Stop, Thief!

  Paddington was very tired. He had spent several long days doing odd jobs now. He had washed windows up and down the city—he had even startled Mr. Brown by tapping on his top-floor office window while cleaning! Paddington was now walking home at the end of another very busy day with a suitcase full of coins from satisfied customers.

  He passed by Mr. Gruber’s shop and stopped to peer in through the window at the pop-up book.

  “If I have one more day like today, I shall have enough money for your present, Aunt Lucy,” he said to himself.

  He was about to go on his way when he heard the sound of breaking glass. He looked up and spotted a shadowy figure climbing in through a second-floor window.

  “Mr. Gruber?” Paddington called up. “Have you locked yourself out like Dr. Jafri?” He peered at the figure and saw it wasn’t Mr. Gruber, but a strange man with a beard.

  It took a second for the penny to drop, and then Paddington cried, “Thief!”

  “Lawks!” cried the thief, and he disappeared in through the window.

  “Oh, no you don’t!” shouted Paddington, setting his window-cleaning ladder up against the wall and scurrying up.

  But he was too late; the thief was already inside and running downstairs to the antiques shop below. Before Paddington could reach him, the thief had smashed the display case, snatched the pop-up book, and run out of the front door.

  “Stop, thief!” Paddington shouted, running out of the shop after him, just as the burglar alarm went off.

  As Paddington ran after the man, a police car pulled up outside Mr. Gruber’s. A policewoman grabbed her radio and spoke into it urgently. “Robbery in progress at Gruber’s Antiques. The suspect is a . . . small bear in a red hat and duffle coat.” She jumped out of her car and chased after Paddington, who was himself chasing the thief down the road to the canal.

  Paddington came out onto the towpath just in time to see the thief take a bike from the top of a boat and make off with it.

  Paddington put his paw in his mouth and whistled. A large dog appeared.

  “Wolfie!” Paddington cried with relief. “You’re just in time!”

  “Woof!” Wolfie replied.

  Paddington jumped onto the dog’s back, riding him like a horse in pursuit of the thief.

  “Come back with that book!” Paddington shouted. He could see it poking out of the bike’s pannier. “Faster, Wolfie!” he cried.

  Wolfie picked up speed and Paddington almost got close enough to the bike to take the book, but the thief saw him and snatched it out of the pannier. He pedaled faster than ever, veering off sharply across a bridge and leaving Paddington and Wolfie behind on the other side of the canal.

  Wolfie was not going to let the thief go that easily. He spotted a shortcut and jumped on to the roof of a boat with Paddington clinging on to his fur. The pair leaped across the water on to an island in the middle of the canal and disappeared into the undergrowth together.

  When Paddington came out the other side, Wolfie was nowhere to be seen but Paddington was holding on to the legs of an enormous swan! It swooped up into the sky, chasing after the thief once more.

  The thief looked up, yelped in surprise, lost control of the bike, and fell off. The bike veered off course and dropped like a stone into the murky water.

  “Come back!” Paddington shouted. “That book is reserved for Aunt Lucy!” But he could only watch in vain as the thief continued his getaway on foot. “Thank you for the lift,” he said to the swan, spotting Wolfie on the towpath below. “If you could just drop me off here, that would be splendid!”

  The swan set Paddington down on the path next to Wolfie and the pair chased the thief all the way to the newspaper kiosk in Windsor Gardens.

  Hearing police sirens coming from the other direction, the thief stopped. He was cornered, and he knew it.

  “All right, all right! You got me!” he cried, raising his hands. He was still holding the pop-up book.

  Paddington jumped down from Wolfie’s back and approached the thief. “Hand over the book!” he commanded.

  But the thief was not going to give up his booty that easily. “’Fraid I can’t do that,” he said with a cheeky grin. “Cheerio!” Then he turned and DISAPPEARED IN A PUFF OF SMOKE!

  Paddington stood, staring openmouthed at the space where the thief had been. He looked around wildly—the man must be somewhere. Then the policewoman appeared behind him. She had caught up at last.

  “Hold it right there,” she said to Paddington, coming toward him.

  Paddington breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness you’re here,” he said with a smile. “I was trying to stop a thief—”

  The policewoman held up a finger, however, and prevented him from saying any more. “Put your paws in the air,” she demanded.

  “But I’m not the thief!” Paddington protested, horrified. “The thief was right here. You just missed him, in fact. He—he . . .” Paddington didn’t know how to explain what he had just witnessed.

  “I suppose you’re going to tell me that he disappeared in a puff of smoke?” said the policewoman sarcastically.

  “Well, yes,” said Paddington. “That’s exactly what happened actually.”

  Unfortunately, the policewoman was not impressed with Paddington’s explanation. She took some handcuffs from her belt and slapped them on to his paws. “I think you’d better come with me, young bear,” she said, and with that she took him back to Windsor Gardens.

  The neighbors were watching at their windows when the police car drew up outside 32 Windsor Gardens. The Browns rushed out in a panic.

  Mrs. Brown tried to hug him. “Paddington! We were so worried about you.”

  “Are you all right?” asked Judy.

  “Where have you been?” asked Jonathan.

  “He was caught red-pawed robbing Gruber’s Antiques,” said the policewoman.

  “No!” said Paddington. “I told you—it wasn’t me.”

  “Now, listen here,” Mr. Brown said to the policewoman. “There must be some mistake.”

 
; “No mistake, sir,” the policewoman answered. “Like I said, I caught him in the act.”

  Mr. Curry had come out of his house, a sly smile on his face. He had heard every word. “Well, well. The truth will out,” he said. “We opened our hearts to that bear. We opened our doors—well, you did,” he said to the Browns, “I kept mine triple-locked in accordance with the community neighborhood watch guidelines—and all along he was robbing you blind. I hate to say I told you so, but I definitely did tell you so.”

  The other neighbors were out in the street too now, muttering to each other.

  “Can this be true?” asked Dr. Jafri.

  “Paddington, a thief?” said Miss Kitts.

  “We’ll be taking him to the station,” the policewoman told the Browns. “You’ll be hearing from us in due course.” And with that Paddington was put inside a police van and driven away.

  Mrs. Brown sobbed as she watched him go, his little face pressed to the glass, a picture of fear and shame.

  Meanwhile, in an attic room, the bearded thief was sitting in front of a theatrical makeup mirror and talking to himself in a gruff London accent.

  “A nice little haul and no mistake,” he said as he pulled off his beard—and his nose! “Turned out to be quite a stroke of luck, that bear turning up when he did. Coppers think he done it, and now we’re in the clear.”

  With one last tug, the rest of the disguise was off, revealing that the thief was, in fact, none other than Phoenix Buchanan, the actor that Paddington had spoken to at the steam fair!

  “Yes, Magwitch,” he said to his reflection in his normal voice. “We gave quite a performance, you and I—just like the old days.”

  Phoenix’s attic room was full of mannequins of all the characters he had played over the years. He got up from his makeup table and strutted around, talking to them all.

  Catching sight of a mannequin dressed in black with a skull in its hand, he asked it, “Why the lemon face, Hamlet? If you have something to say, please share it with us all.”