The Bolds to the Rescue

by Julian Clary

  But everyone at Fairfield Road was very excited for Fifi and immediately booked front-row tickets for the night of the competition for themselves and Minnie. They listened to her rehearse her number for several hours each evening, until they all knew every note. Mrs. Bold scoured the charity shops for a suitable dress and found a full-length evening gown in black sequins with a matching beret. And Minnie helped Fifi find the perfect hairstyle.

  Finally the big night arrived. The Bolds, Mr. McNumpty, Tony and Miranda, Roger, Sheila, the horses, and Minnie all put on their best clothes for the event. (Even the seagulls came along, flying up to the windowsill outside, their beaks pressed to the glass.) The town hall was packed to the rafters and the atmosphere was electric. Everyone from Numbers 39 and 41 Fairfield Road sat in the front row eating chocolates and clapping politely during the other acts—jugglers, dancers, and comedians—but really they were waiting for Fifi to appear.

  When she was finally introduced, Fifi sauntered into the spotlight and closed her eyes for a moment. The audience held their breath. Finally, when she was ready, she sang:

  “Paris in the springtime

  Is stunning, don’t you think?

  You can find true love there

  And cheap beverages to drink.”

  Her voice trembled with emotion, her dress sparkled under the lights, and Fifi looked every inch a superstar.

  Everyone was spellbound.

  “Paris in the autumn,

  Its charm just never fails

  Romance is in the air

  And for lunch you can eat snails.”

  When her song finished the applause was thunderous and went on for ages. The party from Fairfield Road whooped and cheered the loudest and gave their friend Fifi a standing ovation. Even the seagulls banged their beaks on the windows to show their appreciation.

  There was a tense wait while the judges deliberated, but finally the results were announced. In third place was a street dance group called The Twickenham Twisters. The runner-up was a belly-dancing retiree called Rene the Remarkable. And the winner was, of course . . . Miss Fifi Lampadaire!

  The audience erupted, cameras flashed, flowers were presented to a tearful Fifi, and she sang her winning song once more to a delirious, entranced Teddington Town Hall.

  After such a triumph, things happened very quickly for Fifi. The phone rang constantly with offers of more singing work, and before too long she got herself an agent to guide her career and negotiate her payments.

  Fifi’s agent (a woman called Mandy Weird) announced that Fifi would be a big hit on cruise ships as the onboard entertainment.

  “Alors!” cried Fifi. “This is my dream, but I have not got the passport to travel! How can I conquer the world with my talent without a passport?” (Passports are what humans need when they go abroad. You have to fill in a long form and send it away to a big office, together with your birth certificate: not really a possibility when you’re a poodle.)

  “Would a pet passport work?” suggested Mr. Bold unwisely.

  “A PET passport?” asked an incredulous Fifi. “Do I look like a PET to you?”

  “Well, no,” stammered Mr. Bold. “It’s just that you are, you know, well, we all are, at the end of the day, animals. Aren’t we?”

  “Mon Dieu!” howled Fifi. “How can you say such things? It is an insult! Fermez la bouche— maintenant!” And with that she flounced up to her bedroom.

  “What did she just say?” asked Mr. Bold.

  “I think she just told you to shut your mouth,” said Minnie, who’d been to France on holiday the year before and had learned that particular phrase herself.

  Mr. Bold shrugged. “Well, I’m an animal and proud of it. So there,” he said to no one in particular.

  For the next few days the atmosphere in the Bolds’ household was not, for once, a very happy one. Fifi’s mood did not improve, and tearful outbursts and door slamming happened almost hourly. She wanted to work on a cruise ship. She MUST have a passport . . .

  In the end Mr. McNumpty could stand it no more. “Right,” he sighed. “There’s only one thing to do.” He had a strange look of grim determination on his face.

  “What are you going to do?” asked Uncle Tony.

  “I am going to get that poor Fifi a passport.”

  “How can you?”

  Mr. McNumpty tapped the side of his nose. “Ask no questions and I’ll tell you no lies,” he said to his pal.

  “You’re not going to do anything dangerous, are you?” Nigel McNumpty was Tony’s best friend, and Tony didn’t like the idea of him getting into trouble.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t be gone long.”

  Now Mr. McNumpty had been around a long time and liked to consider himself older and wiser than most. When he was younger, he used to go to a café on the Old Kent Road where you could, at a price, acquire almost anything. In the back room, called “the snug,” you would always find two notorious brothers called the Claws. Their ruthlessness was as legendary as their criminal activities. Although they were small, if anyone annoyed them or crossed them in any way, revenge would be swift and vicious. A man once accidentally knocked over one brother’s drink, and they both leaped off their chairs and bit the poor chap on the ankles. Even drew blood! You didn’t mess with the Claw Brothers. Everyone knew that.

  But Nigel McNumpty always got on well with the two brothers. They shared a secret, you see. Yes, that’s right: the Claws were animals in disguise too. Weasels. Now there was no other choice—Mr. McNumpty would have to go and pay his old friends a visit.

  Mr. McNumpty really didn’t like taking risks or being dishonest in any way, but he could see no other way round the passport situation—to get a passport Fifi was going to need a fake birth certificate. Without it, her budding career was as good as over. He had to help. From his bedside drawer he took several hundred pounds from his secret savings, picked up one of Fifi’s new publicity photos, took a deep breath, and slipped out of the house.

  A few days later he presented an incredulous Fifi with her passport, and she wept and whooped with joy. But however many questions everyone asked, Mr. McNumpty refused to say exactly how he got it for her.

  “Sometimes it is best not to know,” he said sagely. “All that matters is that you can now travel and sing for people anywhere in the world. I couldn’t let a little thing like you not being human get in the way of that.”

  At last, happiness was restored at the Bolds’, all thanks to Mr. McNumpty.

  Chapter 19

  I told you a lot happens in this book, didn’t I? It’s action-packed, if I say so myself! But as you can probably tell, things are slowly drawing to a conclusion.

  Mr. and Mrs. Bold, the twins, Mr. McNumpty, Miranda, and Tony carried on with their laughter-filled lives at Numbers 39 and 41 Fairfield Road, Teddington, until eventually most of the visitors who moved into the Bolds’ house at the beginning of this book were ready to move on. Here’s what happened to them:

  Roger the sheep passed his childcare exams and went to work as a nanny with a family in the Cotswolds, where he looked after three very nice, well-spoken children while their parents were at work.

  Minty and Molly the racehorses, together with Hamish, had great success with their gardening business (no one guessed the secret of what made the flowers thrive so well) and eventually they became chief gardeners for Regent’s Park in London. The job came with a sweet little house, so they moved in there and were very happy indeed.

  Fifi the French poodle started her work singing on the cruise ships, where she was, of course, a huge hit. She loved singing, but she also loved traveling and seeing all the different countries.

  The cat and her kittens had no intention of pretending to be humans. They just wanted a place to stay—so they weren’t going anywhere. And the turtle? Well, he moved from the washing machine to a pond Mr. McNumpty dug in the garden—but he wasn’t going any farther than that.

  That just left Sheila the crocodile . . .

/>   Sheila wasn’t doing quite so well. She had yet to find her place in the world and showed no sign of moving on. The Bolds all treated her as kindly as ever, but the truth was that she just wasn’t enjoying life in Teddington and longed to swim free and wild somewhere. Living life as a human didn’t suit her. Her escape from the sewers seemed to have been a mistake. She was miserable and inconsolable.

  When Fifi came home to Teddington between engagements, she did her very best to cheer Sheila up, but her friend remained sad and distant.

  Then one day—just before she was due to leave for her next cruise-ship booking, in Egypt on the River Nile—Fifi had an idea. She looked Sheila up and down and asked: “Sheila, ma chèrie, can you hold your tail in your mouth?”

  “Er, yes, of course,” replied Sheila in surprise at the unusual question. She curled her tail toward her head and grabbed it between her teeth. “Like this?” she managed to say.

  “Oui! Très interesting,” murmured Fifi. “I think I may have had an idea. Perhaps une idée merveilleuse!”

  The next day the whole Bold household went to the airport to see Fifi off on her trip to Egypt. They helped her carry her luggage to the check-in and waved her goodbye as she disappeared through departures, a smart crocodile bag slung over her shoulder as hand luggage.

  Mrs. Bold wiped a tear from her eye. “I do hope Fifi’s plan works,” she said.

  Can you guess the end of this story? As I can’t hear your answer to the question, I’d better tell you, just in case.

  A week later a letter arrived at 41 Fairfield Road addressed to Les Bolds. A letter with an Egyptian stamp on it . . .

  “A letter from Fifi!” cried Mrs. Bold excitedly. “Gather round, everyone, and I’ll read it out loud!” Mr. Bold, the twins, their friend Minnie, Mr. McNumpty, Uncle Tony, and Miranda all crowded into the kitchen to hear the news.

  Her hands shaking with nerves, Mrs. Bold opened the letter, cleared her throat, and read what Fifi had written:

  Mes chers amis,

  Bonjour from sunny Egypt!

  I have so much to tell you. Most important, I am singing better than ever and everyone loves me. I had three encores last night. Three! My talent is recognized here, and I'm the talk of Egypt.

  But on to other matters. Sheila's disguise as a shoulder bag worked brilliantly, and nobody suspected a thing as I got on the plane. On board, I placed her carefully in the overhead locker, where she was able to release her tail from her mouth and relax during the flight.

  There was just one sticky moment. Someone placed their bag of ham sandwiches and crisps in the locker during take-off, and Sheila scarfed them down. When the passenger went to look for them later he was quite mystified and looked accusingly around at everyone, but luckily he didn't suspect the truth.

  When we got to Cairo, I got Sheila out and slung her over my shoulder, as before. I was quite nervous going through Customs but all went well. A woman at the baggage carousel said, "What a lovely bag. Is it real?" I couldn't help but chuckle to myself, I can tell you!

  After a long bus trip we finally boarded the cruise ship on the River Nile. Safely in my cabin, Sheila, poor thing, almost collapsed with thirst and exhaustion, and her skin was terribly dry, so I put her in the shower where she stayed rehydrating for a good couple of hours. She was also starving, so I went to the all-you-can-eat buffet and piled my tray high with tasty, meaty morsels that I brought back to the cabin. She devoured the lot in about a minute!

  We waited a couple of days, until the cruise ship was well away from the city and the waters of the Nile looked clean and fresh. We were almost ready for the final part of my plan. I awoke in the middle of the night to find Sheila looking longingly out the porthole at the river, taking deep breaths of fresh air and humming to herself with joy.

  "Fifi, dear, I think this might be the perfect spot, don't you agree? Look how beautiful it is! I'm itching to swim out there," she said earnestly.

  I must admit we were both a little tearful, knowing we would never see each other ever again.

  "But this is what I want," said Sheila firmly. "To live in the wild, as a crocodile, with other crocodiles. To swim, to snap, to meet a husband, to have baby crocodiles, and to be FREE!"

  "Je sais," I told her. "I know. And I wish you, Sheila, a très long and happy life." I popped her over my shoulder one last time, and we made our way onto the deck. No one was about. It was a warm, starry night.

  "Good luck, Sheila!" I whispered. "From me, the Bolds, and everyone at Fairfield Road. Bonne chance! Remember us!"

  "I will. I always will," she said. "Thank you, and please be sure to give everyone my love." And with that she slipped silently over the side of the ship and into the Nile. I watched as a few bubbles rose to the surface, saw her big tail flick once in the air, as if she was waving good-bye, and then she was gone.

  I will write again soon.

  Tout mon amour,

  Fifi.

  X

  Mrs. Bold folded the letter, slid it back in its envelope, and placed it on the mantelpiece.

  Everyone was quiet for a moment, until Mr. Bold said, “Well, that worked out well, then. Three cheers for Sheila!”

  “Hip hip?”

  But how quiet the house seemed, with everyone gone. Too quiet. No Sheila swishing about in the bathroom, no Fifi preening in front of the mirror in the hallway, no Roger puttering about and playing games with the twins, and no Minty and Molly with their nervous whinnying, clattering up and down the stairs.

  Betty and Bobby wandered into the garden and sat on the lawn to think.

  “Isn’t it lovely that all our friends have started their new lives?” said Betty, looking at the roses, which were starting to fade without Molly and Minty’s special fertilizer.

  “S’pose,” said Bobby forlornly. “I hope they come and see us soon, though. I really miss them.”

  “Well, Mum says everyone—apart from Sheila—has promised to come back to Teddington for Christmas,” Betty reminded him. “We’ll all be together again. Don’t be sad.”

  “Moo!” came the reply.

  “Moo to you too!” said Betty indignantly.

  “I didn’t say ‘Moo!’” said Bobby.

  “You did too moo!” Betty argued.

  “Moo! Mooooo!”

  The twins realized the moo-ing noise was coming from behind them. They turned to look, and there, poking through the hedge, was a big ginger cow’s head.

  “Hello,” said Betty. “Can we help you?”

  “I do hope so.” The poor cow sounded rather stuffed up. “Is this the Bolds’ residence? My name is Kirsty. I have a terrible problem, you see. I’m a cow who has hay fever. I simply cannot stay another moment in a field. And I hear on the grapevine that you now have some vacancies . . . ?”

  “Er, yes, we do,” said Betty excitedly. “I’d have to ask my mum and dad first, though.”

  “I thought, if I could learn to behave like a human being, then maybe I could get a job in an office. Secretary? Bank clerk? I don’t really mind as long as it’s air-conditioned and I can escape from that dreadful pollen!’

  Just then Mr. and Mrs. Bold came strolling into the garden, holding hands and laughing as usual.

  “Oh, Fred, you are a scream!” howled Mrs. Bold.

  “Ah, what have we here?” said Mr. Bold when he spotted the ginger cow.

  “Dad, Mum, come and meet Kirsty. Can she stay with us?” asked Bobby.

  “Of course you may, Kirsty!” said Mrs. Bold. “Have you come far?”

  “Thank you so much,” said the grateful cow. “I’ve come from a farm in Dorset.”

  “Welcome to the Bolds’,” said Mr. Bold. “Help yourself to the lawn. Mind if I ask you a few questions first?”

  “Certainly,” blinked Kirsty.

  All the Bolds laughed heartily, and Kirsty joined in. But there were more jokes to come. Lots more . . .

  By now all the Bolds were rolling on their backs, laughing helplessly and holding their sides.


  Goodness, thought Kirsty to herself. It was going to be a lot of fun living here.

  Kirsty was right, of course. In fact, it’s nonstop fun at the Bolds’. We know that, don’t we?

  Just don’t tell the grown-ups. We don’t want them spoiling it.

  The End

  Mr. Bold’s Jokes

  Why did the banana go to the doctor? Because he wasn’t peeling well!

  Why did the jelly wobble? Because it saw the milk shake!

  Where do bees go to the bathroom? At the BP station!

  What do you call a sewer expert? A conna-sewer!

  What do cows like to do at amoosement parks? Ride the roller cow-ster!

  What do you get if you cross an angry sheep with a grumpy cow? An animal that’s in a baaaaaad moooood!

  Why did the singer climb the ladder? To reach the high notes!

  What do you give a sick horse? Horse stirrup!

  What happened to the man who put his false teeth in backwards? He ate himself!

  How do you make a baby sleep on a spaceship? You rocket!

  Did you hear the joke about the broken egg? Yes, it cracked me up!

  Why did the teacher turn the lights on? Because her pupils were so DIM!

  Why do gorillas have such big fingers? Because they have such big nostrils!

  What’s worse than a crocodile with a toothache? A centipede with athlete’s foot!

  Why did the chicken cross the playground? To get to the other SLIDE!

  What did the mayonnaise say when someone opened the refrigerator door? “Close the door, I am dressing!”

  What’s the difference between a horse and a duck? One goes quick, the other goes quack!

  What do you call a pony with a sore throat? A little hoarse!