The Bolds Go Green

by Julian Clary

  ‘I’ll make sure they don’t get up to any mischief, Mrs Bold,’ said Minnie in her most sensible voice.

  ‘Oh, OK then,’ said Mrs Bold. ‘I suppose it will be all right for you to go without me...’ And she gave the three friends permission to go to the charity shop.

  What is your opinion about this expedition? Do you think the twins and Minnie should be allowed to go out unsupervised? It’s a tricky one, isn’t it? Knowing the twins and Minnie as I do, I wouldn’t call them untrustworthy. Prone to unusual happenings, or magnets for fun and the occasional spot of bother, perhaps, but not untrustworthy, never! I’d trust them with my wallet, although they might eat it. But however we look at it, it is unlikely that this trip to the charity shop will pass without incident. Two young hyena pups and a wheelbarrow full of second-hand clothes out unaccompanied on the wild streets of Teddington sounds like a recipe for disaster to me... But there comes a time for every parent when they have to test the water and let their little ones out of their sight, so that was what Mrs Bold did that afternoon. I suppose the best course of action is just to get on and tell you what happened. The truth is it is something you’d never guess anyway. It is my prediction, therefore, that this whole paragraph of speculation and rumination will be edited out by someone from my publishers wearing a severe haircut and novelty earrings that look like throat lozenges. A red line will be put through it, I dare say, and the word ‘padding’ scribbled in the margin. (Words like ‘rumination’ are usually considered unsuitable for children. I don’t know why. It’s been one of my favourite words since I was about nine. We’ll see, won’t we? Sigh.) Onwards!

  ‘What could possibly go wrong?’ Mrs Bold asked herself as she watched the young trio trundle the heavily laden wheelbarrow through the side gate and onto a sunny Fairfield Road.

  ‘Turn left!’ called Minnie when they reached the pavement.

  ‘I can’t see a thing!’ said Bobby, playing for time as he reminded himself which was his left and which was his right. (The fur on his left paw had a brown smudge on it, so he had a surreptitious look.) Working together Bobby and Betty managed the left turn and the trio began making steady, if wobbly, progress along the pavement in the direction of the high street, when suddenly Minnie – walking a few metres ahead – called out: ‘Warning! Pothole danger imminent!’

  But it was too late. The front wheel of the barrow fell into the crack between the paving stones, causing the whole thing to stop suddenly and crash to one side. The precarious pile of assorted clothes teetered then fell silently to the ground.

  ‘Nooo!’ cried Minnie.

  ‘It’s not our fault,’ said Betty. ‘You didn’t give us enough warning.’

  ‘Sorry. I didn’t notice it in time,’ said Minnie.

  ‘Come on, let’s just get it all back on,’ said Bobby.

  ‘I don’t think there’s time to fold it again, do you?’ said Betty. ‘The charity shop closes soon. If we get there too late we’ll have to wheel everything back home to Number 41 again, and I don’t fancy that.’

  ‘OK,’ said Minnie. ‘Let’s pile it back on, then we can fold it when we get there.’ All three of them scooped up armfuls of garments and piled them onto the wheelbarrow, which now looked like a colourful pile of rags.

  ‘Ready?’ asked Minnie, resuming her position as head of the expedition. ‘Let’s move steadily forward.’ Minnie was rather enjoying being in charge. She felt quite important and imagined she was a policewoman escorting a wide load down a busy motorway. ‘Steady as she goes!’ she called.

  Unfortunately, at this stage, the twins had started to get a bit bored. It was tiring work and they couldn’t see a thing, their paws were sore and their minds had begun to wander, understandably. Bobby sighed.

  ‘How much further, Sis?’ he asked despondently.

  ‘Dunno, Bruv.’

  ‘It’s all right for Minnie, waving people out of the way and giving orders, but we’re doing all the hard work.’

  ‘I’ve had enough.’

  ‘Me too!’

  ‘Let’s liven things up, shall we?’

  ‘Yes!’ said Bobby, a glint in his eye. ‘Let’s try hopping on one leg for a bit!’ Betty thought this was a marvellous idea and on the count of three both pups began to hop – slowly at first, then faster and faster and even faster.

  Minnie glanced behind her and saw the precious cargo had started pulsating and bouncing.

  ‘Whoa there!’ she said. ‘What’s going on, you two?’

  ‘This is much more fun!’ giggled Bobby.

  ‘It is too,’ agreed Betty. ‘But we haven’t got much time, remember. Do you think we should speed up?’

  ‘Running hops? Oh yes, let’s!’ agreed Bobby.

  Suddenly the juddering wheelbarrow was speeding towards Minnie and she had no option but to jump out of the way, over a low brick wall, landing with a crash in the carefully manicured marigold bed of Number 10. The Binghams’. As she got to her feet and brushed the dirt and garish orange petals from her dress, the wheelbarrow sped past her like a runaway train.

  ‘STOP! STOP!’ she cried, but the twins were having too much fun to hear and on they went.

  Minnie was just getting to her feet when Mr Bingham flew out of his front door in his dressing gown (he liked to have a nice bath in the afternoon before watching Tipping Point) and grabbed Minnie by the arm.

  ‘You hooligan!’ he shrieked. ‘Look what you’ve done to my flowerbed!’

  ‘So sorry,’ said Minnie. ‘I’ll explain later, but I can’t stop now. I’m in charge of that wheelbarrow, you see.’

  ‘What wheelbarrow?’ asked Mr Bingham suspiciously, tightening his grip. ‘I want your name and address, young lady. I’ve a good mind to call the police.’

  An alarmed Mrs Bingham now appeared by her husband’s side, holding a neatly folded fluffy white towel and some bath salts. ‘Careful, Richard,’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘She’s probably part of a gang. We’re caught up in a turf war. I’ve read about this sort of thing in the paper. Oh, look at my marigolds!’

  ‘It was an accident. I’m really sorry. I had to jump out of the way. The wheelbarrow—’

  ‘She’s crazy!’ cried Mrs Bingham. ‘Lock her in the shed while I call 999!’

  Minnie decided the only thing to do was run for it. ‘Sorry!’ She shrugged at the Binghams and ran to catch up with Bobby and Betty.

  The twins, meanwhile, unaware that Minnie was no longer there to guide them along Fairfield Road, assumed that their way ahead was clear and safe and so their hopping just got faster and faster and, it has to be said, more and more fun. As they flew down the road, the pile of charity shop clothes hopped too and one by one items flew up in the air and landed, scattered across the pavement, gutter, gates, gardens and trees of Fairfield Road, until the whole street looked as if a jumble sale had somehow exploded.

  ‘Whee-heee!’ whooped Betty.

  ‘This is more fun than fun!’ cackled Bobby.

  But as they built up speed, hopping on one leg soon became impossible and before they knew it the twins were running, then sprinting, as fast as they could. That part of Fairfield Road sloped downwards and the twins began to lose control.

  ‘Oh-er!’ said Betty as she lost her grip on the wheelbarrow handle. The contraption veered suddenly towards the road and Bobby let go too.

  ‘Oops!’ he gasped. Bobby and Betty clasped each other as they helplessly watched the wheelbarrow crash into a lamp post and somersault into the air, landing with a crunch on top of a shiny silver Range Rover. The last few items of clothing formed a kind of multi-coloured fabric Catherine wheel in the sky – a pair of Mr Bold’s old long johns waved to them from on top of the lamp post and Mrs Bold’s sports bra was last seen wrapped around the head of a passing motorcyclist.

  The twins stood, panting on the pavement, covering their mouths with shock. I
t took a few moments for them to realise there was only one thing for it: to laugh. And so they did. And, as is the way with hyenas, the laughter reached a cackling crescendo, the effort of which caused the twins to keel over. By the time Minnie had escaped from the Binghams’ clutches they were both on their backs, arms and legs waving helplessly in the air.

  ‘Bobby! Betty!’ panted Minnie. ‘Pull yourselves together – look at the clothes everywhere! We need to get them all back before we get into more trouble.’

  Just then a puzzled Mr McNumpty and Uncle Tony appeared, on their way home from their trip to the library. Uncle Tony, as usual, was pushing Miranda, the tiny marmoset monkey, in her doll’s pram.

  ‘Well, well, what’s going on here then, eh?’ asked Uncle Tony.

  ‘Found a new way to dry your washing?’ chuckled Mr McNumpty. ‘By throwing it up in the air all down the street?’

  ‘We’re supposed to be taking these clothes to the charity shop,’ explained Betty, getting to her feet.

  ‘But it all went a bit wrong,’ added Bobby.

  ‘So I see,’ said Uncle Tony.

  ‘Wheelybarrow on top of car-car!’ observed Miranda.

  ‘Yikes,’ said Minnie. ‘Let’s get it off before the owner notices.’

  Mr McNumpty, being tall and strong, lifted it off with one hand. Fortunately there was a roof rack on top of the Range Rover that had prevented any damage. He placed the wheelbarrow back on the pavement and everyone went about gathering the escaped clothes. Helpfully, Miranda climbed nimbly up the lamp post to retrieve the long johns.

  ‘All done!’ said Minnie at last.

  ‘We’ll be off home then,’ concluded Mr McNumpty. ‘Glad to have been of assistance.’

  ‘Would you mind not mentioning this to Mum, please?’ asked Betty.

  ‘She wasn’t sure if we could be trusted out on our own,’ added Bobby.

  Mr McNumpty tapped the side of his nose. ‘Mum’s the word, eh?’ he winked.

  ‘Thank you!’ said the twins.

  ‘Now let’s try again,’ said Minnie. ‘Sensibly, this time.’

  Mr McNumpty checked his watch. ‘Chop, chop,’ he said. ‘Charity shop closes soon, you know.’

  ‘Right. We’re off!’ said Bobby, waving goodbye.

  You’d think that would be enough nonsense for one day, wouldn’t you? But you’d be wrong. These are the Bolds we’re dealing with here, remember. Nonsense is their middle name.

  So here is what happened next. Our intrepid trio made it safely to the corner of the high street, miraculously keeping the wheelbarrow upright and all the clothes where they should be. In fact, they were only a hundred metres from their destination when fate stepped in. Sitting huddled on the pavement outside the greengrocer’s was an elderly figure, wrapped from head to toe in rags. As the twins and Minnie passed, she held out a gloved hand, palm upwards.

  ‘Please help me,’ she said in a whisper.

  ‘Stop!’ ordered Minnie and the three youngsters approached her.

  ‘Could you spare a few pence?’ she asked. Minnie peered at the face shrouded in its hood. Her skin looked dirty and grey.

  ‘Oh, you poor thing!’ she said. ‘But I’m afraid we don’t have any money.’

  The old lady stared at them with kind, watery eyes.

  ‘Ah, you are children. I didn’t realise. Please don’t worry then. A man gave me five pence a couple of hours ago. So nice of him. People are very kind in Teddington.’

  ‘Five pence? Is that all you have?’ asked Bobby.

  ‘Well, yes, so far,’ the old lady said.

  ‘We don’t have any money. But would you like some clothes?’ asked Betty, gesturing towards the wheelbarrow. ‘Bound to be something here that fits you.’

  ‘Oh.’ The old lady peered at the mound of clothes. ‘Thank you. It does get rather chilly at night on the streets.’

  ‘Is that where you sleep? On the streets?’ asked Minnie.

  ‘Yes, dear,’ said the woman. ‘I do.’ She shivered slightly.

  ‘That’s awful,’ said Bobby.

  ‘It’s not so bad if I’ve had something to eat,’ replied the woman.

  ‘Well, our mum and dad will help you, I’m sure,’ said Betty.

  ‘Deffo!’ said Bobby emphatically. ‘We’re the Bolds. We love helping people.’

  The old lady’s eyes widened slightly. ‘The Bolds, you say? Well, if you’re sure?’

  ‘Absolutely. We’ll take you to ours for something to eat. What would you like?’

  ‘I only eat two things. Ants or cucumbers.’

  The twins looked at each other, then at Minnie, their eyebrows raised in surprise.

  ‘Really?!’ exclaimed Minnie. ‘That’s an unusual diet...’

  The old lady shrugged.

  ‘Well, we don’t live far away. Come back with us now. I expect there is a cucumber in the fridge,’ offered Betty. ‘And you can choose some clothes too.’

  ‘We were on our way to the charity shop with these, but you can have them instead,’ said Bobby.

  The old lady got slowly to her feet. ‘Looks very comfy,’ she said, eyeing the mound of clothes. ‘I’ll rest myself on these, if you don’t mind?’ And she shuffled towards the wheelbarrow and lowered herself on top. ‘Ready when you are!’ she said. ‘My name is Annika, by the way.’

  ‘Right then, Annika. Let’s turn around,’ said Minnie, more than a little nonplussed.

  And so it was that the twins and Minnie’s expedition to the charity shop ended twenty minutes later with their return to 41 Fairfield Road, still with all the clothes and the added addition of an old lady called Annika, who only ate cucumbers and ants, riding on top of the wheelbarrow.

  Mrs Bold heard the children returning through the side gate and put down the hat she was making (a bonnet festooned with giant butterflies made from the soles of old shoes, brightly painted and sprinkled with glitter – a special commission for the Teddington Pride parade, happening later that summer) and went to meet them. Her heart melted at the sight of poor Annika and she helped the old lady out of the wheelbarrow and into the kitchen.

  ‘Make yourself at home, my dear,’ she said, putting the kettle on.

  ‘We met her on the high street,’ said Betty.

  ‘She is very hungry and has nowhere to live!’ explained Bobby. ‘So we brought her here.’

  ‘You did the right thing,’ said Mrs Bold, proud of her caring, compassionate children. ‘Everyone is welcome at the Bolds’ house. For as long as they need to be here.’

  ‘We were just about to deliver the clothes to the charity shop. But Annika could have some of them, couldn’t she?’ added Minnie. ‘So we brought them all back again.’

  ‘Yes, Minnie dear. Go direct to the needy. Cut out the middle man, as it were. Although she might not want all of them. Now, Annika, would you like a nice cup of tea?’

  ‘You’re very kind, all of you. Just a glass of water if it isn’t too much trouble,’ Annika said, and then pushed her hood off and gave her head a shake. She had a long, blunt nose, a very wrinkled forehead and big, round eyes. But almost as big as her head were her long, pinkish ears, which stood rather high on her head.

  The twins and Minnie couldn’t help but stare, until Mrs Bold frowned meaningfully at them.

  ‘You three go and sort through the clothes and see what might be suitable for Annika. I’ll get her something to eat. Would you like a sandwich, dear, or something more substantial? You look as if you haven’t eaten properly for days!’

  Annika smiled weakly and peered at Mrs Bold.

  ‘Your delightful daughter mentioned that there might be a cucumber in your fridge?’

  ‘A cucumber?’ repeated Mrs Bold, opening the fridge. ‘Er, I expect we have such a thing. Is that what you fancy? On a slice of granary bread?’

  ‘No, t
hank you. Just as it comes. And ants. I eat ants.’

  Mrs Bold didn’t flinch, but began slicing on a chopping board. She studied Annika as she did so and nodded to herself.

  ‘Have you come far, Annika?’

  ‘It’s a long story. I’ll explain later,’ said the visitor, her nose twitching at the sight and smell of the freshly cut gourd.

  ‘Of course,’ said Mrs Bold knowingly. ‘You tuck into this and I’ll send the children to gather some ants for you. Bobby? Betty? Get some ants, please!’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Bold.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Mrs Bold, nodding. ‘You know my name. You have heard about us Bolds, I suspect. Is that why you came to Teddington? To find us?’

  Annika was enjoying the delicious fresh cucumber, and wiped a drop of juice from her chin. She only nodded as her mouth was full.

  The Bolds, as you know, have helped lots of animals over the years. Their door is always open to waifs and strays and word of their kindness has spread far and wide across the animal kingdom. Try saying ‘The Bolds!’ to your pet cat, dog or guinea pig and I guarantee their pupils will dilate and a look of respect will cross their faces. In fact I once visited the zoo in Beijing in China and I asked a giant panda if she had heard of the Bolds. She barked excitedly and then did a triple back somersault, which the keeper said he’d never witnessed before, ever!

  Mrs Bold sat down next to her visitor and said: ‘Well, I am glad you found us, Annika, and I want you to know you are very welcome here. We’ve never had an aardvark come to visit before. You’re quite a rarity!’

  Yes, that’s right: Annika wasn’t an old lady at all, but an aardvark! Do you know what an aardvark looks like? We can pause for a moment while you google it if you like... Curious looking, aren’t they? All big ears and long snout. A bit like the Prince of Wales but without the cufflinks. They live in burrows and eat only two things: ants and cucumbers. (The Prince of Wales would have cucumber sandwiches but probably isn’t keen on ants. I can’t say for sure, as posh people eat some strange things, like caviar and oysters.)