First published in Great Britain in 2012 by Simon and Schuster UK Ltd,
a CBS company.
Text copyright © 2012 Tamsyn Murray
Cover and interior illustrations copyright © 2012 Lee Wildish
This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.
No reproduction without permission.
All rights reserved.
The right of Tamsyn Murray and Lee Wildish to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work respectively has been asserted by them in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
Simon& Schuster UK Ltd
1st Floor, 222 Gray’s Inn Road, London WC1X 8HB
Simon & Schuster Australia, Sydney
Simon & Schuster India, New Dehli
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
978-1-84738-730-1
eBook ISBN: 978-1-84738-831-5
Printed and bound in Great Britain by
CPI Cox and Wyman, Reading, Berkshire, RG1 8EX
www.simonandschuster.co.uk
www.simonandschuster.com.au
www.tamsynmurray.co.uk
To Dizzy, Snoop and Dre – the ‘other’ bunnies.
Stay fluff-tastic!
Contents
CHAPTER ONE: Animalympics R Us
CHAPTER TWO: Mrs Wilson Goes Calvin Crazy
CHAPTER THREE: Space Hopper Havoc
CHAPTER FOUR: Tempting Treats
CHAPTER FIVE: Tornado Taz Turns Up The Pace
CHAPTER SIX: Billy the Kid Shows Up
CHAPTER SEVEN: How to Win Friends
CHAPTER EIGHT: We’re In The Medals
CHAPTER NINE: Hush-a-bye, EE
CHAPTER TEN: Skater Girl
CHAPTER ELEVEN: Going For Gold!
Animals come in all shapes and sizes. Some are giant and growly, others are small and squeaky, and some – like me – are cute, fluffy and born for the big time. So when I was talent-spotted at our village pet show, it wasn’t long before my brilliant backflips had bagged me the starring role on Saturday night TV programme Superpets, and Great Britain went Bunny Barmy.
Of course, I can’t take all the credit. If the Wilson family hadn’t picked me out from all the other rabbits in Noah’s Ark Pet Shop and taken me home, who knows what I’d be doing right now? Nibbling hay in some boring back garden probably, daydreaming about dandelion leaves. And if my eight-year-old owner, Susie, hadn’t been smart enough to enter me into that pet show, I wouldn’t be wowing the world with my sensational stunts.
The rest of the family have done their bit, too. Mrs Wilson organises my Superpets schedule, Susie’s little sister, Lily, is a big fan and Mr Wilson makes sure I get to the studio on time. He’s even helped me out of a few sticky situations – but it hasn’t made him any less grumpy with me. That’s why I still call him Evil Edward, or EE for short. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you might even say he didn’t like me. I can’t think why – I mean, what’s a quick finger-chomp between family?
Anyway, being Britain’s Best Loved Bunny isn’t all fun, fans and fur-raising stunts – most of the time, it’s hard work. That’s why Superpets presenter, Gloria Goodwood, is always coming up with new ideas – to keep all the cast on our toes and make sure we keep the top spot on Saturday night TV. So when she heard about a new international competition for sporty animals, she couldn’t wait to tell us about it.
“It’s called the Animalympics and will be held in London next month,” she explained as we finished filming the last show before our summer break. “Animals from across the globe will be competing to win medals for their country in lots of different events, just like the real Olympics. At the end of the games, the country with the most medals will become the Animalympics world champion!”
“Can anyone enter?” EE asked.
Gloria shook her head. “Only specially chosen, athletic animals can join in. I’m very excited to tell you that the Animalympic committee has invited the stars of Superpets to take part!”
I pictured myself going for gold and taking my place on the winner’s podium. Beside me, Tornado Taz let out a miaow of excitement and I guessed he was dreaming of the same thing. He might look like the cat next-door but, underneath that tabby fur, Taz is a lean, mean, racing machine. When he joined the show, we’d both taken part in an obstacle race on Superpets, and he’d been really fast. I had no doubt he would leave everyone else standing in the Animalympics one hundred metre race.
“Obviously, Taz is our number one racer but your pets could clean up in the diving tournament, Trevor,” Gloria was telling the owner of the tumbling terrapins. “Lulu the chimpanzee can put away her hula-hoop and try gymnastics instead. And I hope some of you will join in with the opening ceremony celebrations?”
Sam looked at his troupe of break-dancing hedgehogs and nodded.
I waited, wondering which event I could enter. I couldn’t think of many sports that would involve my backflipping stunts and Taz had the races all sewn up.
Then Gloria flashed a beaming smile my way. “Of course, we hope Harriet will be entering the triple jump.”
My ears pricked up. The triple jump?
“What’s that?” Susie asked, looking confused. “Is it like the high jump but you have to do it three times?”
“Not exactly,” Gloria said. “There’s a long run-up, followed by a hop, a skip and a long jump. With her speed and jumping ability, Harriet will be brilliant.”
I had to agree – the triple jump sounded like the perfect event for me. Hopping was what bunnies did best and I might even be able to squeeze in some of my trademark bunny backflips to wow the judges.
EE coughed. “There won’t be any risk of Harriet escaping, will there? We all know what she’s like.”
I shook my grey fur indignantly. There might have been one or two unfortunate times when I’d had to escape from a tight spot but it was hardly my fault a nasty magician had tried to steal me away. Anyone would think I’d asked the Great Maldini to bunny-nap me!
Gloria frowned. “She’s always perfectly well-behaved for me, Mr Wilson. I’m sure everything will be fine.”
EE blushed. “Do call me Edward, G-G-Gloria.”
“Dad!” Susie said in an embarrassed whisper. “Don’t go Gloria ga-ga again.”
Luckily, Gloria didn’t seem to notice the adoring look EE was sending her way. “Now, you’ll have three weeks to prepare for the qualifying rounds, where animals that have been selected by the committee will compete to be part of the Great British team. You’ll be up against some stiff competition from across the country, but if you win at the qualifiers, you’ll go to the main event two weeks after that.”
Muttering broke out amongst the owners and I could understand why – three weeks to learn a new whole sport wasn’t long at all. And just how was EE supposed to teach me how to triple jump, anyway? He wasn’t exactly the sporty type.
“To give our Superpets an extra edge, I’ve lined up specialist trainers to show them how to go for gold,” Gloria went on briskly. “Some very famous athletes will be getting in touch with you in the next few days and will bring their own camera crew to film everything for a special, Team Superpets Animalympics television show.”
Celebrity sports stars and camera crews – I liked the sound of that! And with my Superpets pals beside me, I had a feeling we were going to win big at the Animalympics. My velvet nose twitched in anticipation. This was going to be fun!
; It’s no secret in the Wilson house that EE goes a bit funny around Gloria. Mrs Wilson folds her arms and tuts when he gets that soppy look on his face and she even asked Susie to keep an eye on her dad to make sure he didn’t embarrass himself when we were on tour with the cast of Superpets. It’s a good thing Gloria is too busy to notice EE’s strange behaviour or life would be a lot worse for me and Susie.
So when we found out the name of my triple jump trainer, I don’t think anyone expected Mrs Wilson to react in quite the way she did.
“C-Calvin C-Cross?” she stammered, her eyes opening wide. “The same Calvin Cross who won all those gold medals and stars in Stunt It! on Sunday nights? That Calvin Cross?”
EE frowned. “He didn’t mention how many medals he had, or any TV show, but I don’t suppose there are two triple-jumpers with same name.”
Mrs Wilson fanned her rosy cheeks and smiled in a dreamy way.
Susie peered at her mum. “Are you OK? Only you look a bit like Dad does when he talks about Gloria.”
“I’m fine, Susie,” Mrs Wilson said, smoothing down her hair. “I expect Calvin is keen to meet Harriet. When is he coming around?”
EE studied her suspiciously. “Tomorrow evening, with the film crew. Why?”
“No reason,” trilled Mrs Wilson, making a beeline for the kitchen. “Will you excuse me? I’ve just remembered I need to phone the hairdresser.”
No one spoke as she rushed away. Then Lily took her thumb out of her mouth. “Mummy’s gone Calvin crazy,” she said.
EE folded his arms and shook his head. “Do you know, Lily, I think you might be right. I do hope she doesn’t make a fool of herself.”
He was a fine one to talk – there was a signed picture of Gloria next to his bed! But for Susie’s sake, I hoped Lily was wrong – between a ga-ga dad and a crazy mum, things could get embarrassing with a capital E!
The next evening I was sitting on the sofa with Susie when the front doorbell rang. EE put down the newspaper he was reading and stood up to answer it but Mrs Wilson beat him to it.
“I’ll get it!” she called as she thundered down the stairs, Lily’s bedtime story in her hand. “No need for you to bother!”
When she reached the doormat, she paused and touched up her lipstick in the mirror. Then she put on a brilliant smile and pulled open the door.
“Hello,” she gushed, in an unusually posh voice. “Mai name is Mrs Wilson.”
She beamed at the visitor and it was a moment before she realised that instead of Calvin Cross standing on the doorstep, it was our next-door neighbour, George.
“Hullo, Mrs Wilson,” he said. “Can Susie come out to play?”
“I’m afraid not,” Mrs Wilson sighed, peering up and down the street. “We’re expecting an extremely important guest to arrive at any minute. Maybe Susie can pop round tomorrow?”
Looking disappointed, George stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned away. “OK.”
After another expectant glance along the road, Mrs Wilson closed the door and went back upstairs to finish telling Lily her story and I went back to my snack.
A few minutes later the doorbell rang again. Once more, EE put down his paper and, once more, Mrs Wilson hurtled down the stairs before he could reach the door.
“Don’t trouble yourself,” she told him, panting slightly as she patted down her dress. “I’ll answer it.”
Yanking the door open, she plastered another bright smile to her face. “Hello, mai name is . . .”
Her voice trailed off as she realised it wasn’t Calvin Cross.
“Mrs Wilson. I know. I’ve been delivering here for six years,” the milkman said, handing her a bill and looking her up and down. “You look different this evening. Going somewhere nice?”
Muttering under her breath, Mrs Wilson grabbed her purse and pulled some money out. “Just a quiet night in,” she said, gritting her teeth. “Or it would be if people would stop disturbing me.”
The milkman gave her some change and nodded. “Right. Is now a good time to tell you about our new organic range?”
Mrs Wilson tapped her foot impatiently. “Not really. We’re expecting company, you see . . .”
Smiling, the milkman stepped forward. “It won’t take long.”
“Some other time,” Mrs Wilson said in a firm tone and, before you could say ‘semi-skimmed’, she had shut the door.
Just as she reached the top of the stairs, the doorbell chimed again. This time, EE didn’t even bother to lower his newspaper. “I expect you’ll get that, will you?”
Sure enough, Mrs Wilson wheeled about and dashed back downstairs. By now, her hair was looking a bit untidy and her lipstick had smeared.
“I bet it’s the blasted milkman again,” she said, pursing her lips and pulling the door back. “I told you, I’m not interested in your organic milk.”
The tall, blond-haired man waiting there looked puzzled. “Er, that’s good because I don’t have any.”
Mrs Wilson froze like a statue for a moment, taking in his smart black tracksuit, sporty sunglasses and the camera behind him pointing straight at her. Then she blinked and smiled. “Hello, mai name is Mrs Wilson. You can call me Jenny.”
Still looking confused, the man lowered his sunglasses to peer at the number on the wall beside the door. “Have I got the wrong address? I’m looking for Harriet Houdini.”
Susie scooped me up into her arms and hurried forwards. “This is Harriet.”
The camera zoomed in on me and I waved my paws in welcome. The man in the tracksuit smiled. “I recognise her from the TV,” he said. “I’m Calvin Cross, Harriet’s new personal trainer.”
Mrs Wilson held out her hand and giggled. “How lovely to meet you, Calvin. This is mai daughter, Susie.”
Calvin shook her hand. “Great to meet you.” He winked at me. “And the amazing Harriet Houdini.”
There was a bad-tempered rustling sound from the direction of the sofa. “Don’t be fooled by the cuteness,” EE called grumpily from behind his newspaper. “That rabbit has teeth like razors.”
“That’s my dad,” Susie explained as the camera swung towards EE. “He’s Harriet’s old trainer.”
Calvin managed to pull his fingers out of Mrs Wilson’s hand. “Good to know,” he replied. “Now that we’ve all met, why don’t we go and get a few shots of the garden, Susie? Then Harriet and I had better get to work – gold medals don’t win themselves!”
I wriggled with excitement at the thought. Calvin Cross was used to aiming high and so was I. Something told me we were going to go a long way together!
The back garden is EE’s pride and joy. He spends every Sunday afternoon out there, tending to his little vegetable patch and pruning his rose bushes. I’ve even heard him talking to them, when he thinks no one is listening. And I suppose it must have an effect because those roses are the tastiest I’ve ever nibbled on. Not that I’d ever tell him that, of course.
So when Calvin Cross looked around the garden with a disappointed air, EE’s mood got even worse.
“There’s not as much room as I’d like,” Calvin said to the film crew. “But at least we can use that sandpit if we move it to the bottom of the path.”
“It’s always been big enough before,” EE muttered, glaring at Calvin. “She’s only a rabbit.”
Mrs Wilson elbowed her way past the sound man to stand a teensy bit too close to Calvin.
“Can I get you a drink, Calvin?” she asked in a breathy voice. “Or a little snack?”
I frowned. Had she changed her dress? I was sure she’d been wearing black before and the one she had on now was bright red and frilly.
“Er, no, thanks,” Calvin said, stepping back and patting his flat tummy. “I’m on a strict diet.”
Mrs Wilson looked him up and down. “I’m sure you don’t need to watch your weight,” she trilled.
“Why do we need the sandpit?” Susie asked Calvin, doing her best to ignore both her parents.
“The triple jump
has a long run-up and Harriet will be moving very fast,” Calvin explained. “The sand is there so that she doesn’t hurt herself when she lands after the jump.”
Susie looked at me doubtfully. “I’m not sure Harriet will like getting her fur dirty.”
She had that right – the last thing I wanted was to get sand in between my claws. But if that’s what it took to bring home a medal then I’d put up with it.
“Triple-jumpers wear special shorts,” Calvin continued. “I’m sure we can get some for Harriet. But first, I want to see what she can do. How about showing the camera some of those famous backflips?”
I didn’t need to be asked twice! Quicker than you could say ‘super somersault’, I was wriggling out of Susie’s arms and scampering down the garden towards Lily’s mini trampoline. Flattening my ears against my head the way I’d seen Tornado Taz do, I picked up speed and hit the trampoline fast. I sank into its springy surface, bouncing high into the air and spinning into a backflip. Upside down, I saw Calvin’s mouth drop open into an astonished O. Wait until he saw my next move – his jaw would hit the ground!
As I began to fall, I aimed towards Susie’s bright orange space hopper, thinking I would bounce off. But instead of sending me soaring upwards again, my claws sank into the shiny rubber. There was a loud pop and a sigh of escaping air. The next thing I knew, it was zooming across the garden like a deflating balloon, taking me with it. I caught a glimpse of Susie’s shocked face as I flew past and light spun off the camera lens as it whipped around to follow me. EE stuck out a hand to catch me but the space hopper suddenly zipped off in another direction.
I clung on tight as the whizzing space hopper climbed high into the air, and hoped I’d land somewhere soft. Then, with a final whine and a pffffft noise, the last of the air inside the space hopper was gone and I spiralled towards the ground. Seeing my chance, I leaped off and aimed for the sandpit. I landed squarely in the middle of the squishy yellow sand, ears pointing straight upwards and whiskers quivering like I was a gold-medal-winning gymnast.
Medal Mayhem Page 1