The Bolds Go Green

by Julian Clary

  ‘Only if we get caught,’ said Bobby. He looked around to make sure no one was in earshot. ‘Betty and I are hyenas, remember. We are clever and we are fast. We have excellent hearing and sense of smell. We can hide and pounce and scavenge and we always get what we want. And what we want is to feed a poor, starving aardvark. This is all perfectly reasonable in my opinion.’

  ‘Er, OK then,’ said Minnie, unconvinced. ‘But I’m not a hyena, more’s the pity. I might be more trouble than I’m worth. Why don’t I wait here and keep lookout? If I think anyone is coming I’ll whistle. Like this...’ and she let out a tuneful whistle.

  ‘Wowsers!’ said Betty admiringly.

  ‘Whistling is one of the few things hyenas can’t do,’ said Bobby. ‘Here’s the gap in the fence.’ He peered about, then threw the bin over into the school grounds.

  ‘I’ll pretend I’m tying my shoelaces,’ said Minnie, as the twins slipped through the gap.

  Bobby and Betty looked around them. The empty school building was quiet and dark.

  ‘Come on, Sis,’ said Bobby in a whisper. ‘The ant farm is round the back by the vegetable garden. Follow me.’

  Why did the ant smell?

  Because he didn’t wear deodorANT!

  Betty thought again as they crept across the playground.

  What do you call an ant who skips school?

  A truANT!

  ‘Ha ha ha!’ guffawed Bobby. ‘Got any more?’

  ‘Don’t think so,’ said Betty.

  ‘I have,’ said Bobby.

  Where do ants go on holiday?

  FrANTS!

  What do you call the tallest ant in the world?

  A giANT!

  The twins were enjoying a good laugh, but Betty pulled herself together first.

  ‘We’d better concentrate,’ she said seriously. ‘We can do some more ant jokes later.’

  ‘Righto,’ agreed Bobby.

  The twins were at the door of a small shed, which housed both the ant and worm farms. ‘It’s in here!’ Bobby declared excitedly.

  Now, in case you don’t know, the proper name for an ant farm is a formicarium, designed for the study of ant colonies. Those who study ants are called myrmecologists. These are long, complicated words which normally I wouldn’t bother with as some people find them tedious. But just sometimes it’s nice to know something that no one else knows. Ask a grown-up if they know the proper name for an ant farm and I guarantee they won’t. But let’s get back to the twins.

  The shed door opened with a creak and they slipped inside with the empty dustbin. The shed was quiet and dark with a musty, earthy smell.

  ‘We should have brought a torch with us,’ said Betty.

  ‘Shall I turn the light on?’ asked Bobby. ‘There’s a switch here.’

  ‘We hyenas can see in the dark, Bruv. Give it a minute and our eyes will adjust.’

  To pass the time they told some more jokes.

  How did Noah see in the dark?

  He used floodlights!

  Why were the middle ages called the dark ages?

  Because there were too many knights!

  Soon the darkness lifted and the twins could see the farms: the worm farm was a tall, square green plastic arrangement and not very interesting to look at. Betty sniffed.

  ‘This one has worms in it. Shall we eat some?’

  ‘We’d better not. We might get carried away,’ replied Bobby sensibly.

  ‘Wow, look at all these ants, though!’

  The ant farm was two large sheets of see-through plastic with wavy trails and chambers going from top to bottom, a man-made copy of what goes on in an ant hill. Thousands of ants could be seen moving busily around, clambering over each other. There were nests and eggs and an awful lot of ant activity going on in all areas.

  ‘But how are we going to get the ants out of the farm and into the bin, so we can take them home for Annika?’ wondered Betty. ‘We can’t pick fifty thousand up one by one.’

  ‘I once left a half-sucked boiled sweet on the windowsill. When I went back for it half an hour later it was covered in ants,’ said Bobby.

  ‘Ugh!’ said Betty. ‘I hope you threw it away?’

  ‘Er, no,’ said Bobby. ‘It was a lemon sherbet. My favourite.’

  ‘So you ate it, ants and all?’ laughed Betty, wrinkling her nose at the thought.

  ‘Yup... ants taste a bit nutty.’

  ‘I’ve got a toffee in my pocket!’ remembered Betty. ‘If I give it a bit of a chew and put it in the bin, maybe the ants will all come to investigate?’

  ‘Great plan!’ said Bobby.

  It was a bit of a challenge for Betty to chew the delicious toffee and not swallow it afterwards, but she managed to resist. She popped it, glistening, in the bottom of the empty bin. She then placed the bin next to the ant farm, and Bobby opened the little door. The ants stopped what they were doing, waved their antennae around as if sniffing the air, then began, one by one, to march purposefully in the direction of the tasty toffee.

  ‘It’s working,’ declared Betty.

  ‘Look at them go!’ said Bobby.

  Soon the ants’ silent march became an ant charge. Out of the farm they came, hundreds at a time, like a thick trail of pulsating molasses. The first ants to reach the toffee leaped on it with glee, covering it in no time. But they were soon jumped on by their comrades. The spot where the toffee was grew and grew as more and more ants reached their destination. The twins looked on, amazed as the mass of ants swelled to the size of a tennis ball. Seconds later it was as big as a watermelon and still growing.

  ‘The whole bin is going to be full of ants in a minute!’ said Bobby, giving his sister a congratulatory slap on the back.

  ‘We’ve done an excellent job of finding Annika’s dinner. Mum will be pleased with us,’ smiled Betty. The twins beamed at each other.

  But the siblings’ joy was rudely interrupted by a shrill whistle.

  ‘Shhhh!’ said Betty. ‘Listen...’ The whistle came again, sounding more urgent than before.

  ‘That’s Minnie’s warning,’ whispered Bobby. ‘Someone must be coming!’

  ‘Quick. Close the ant-farm door and put the lid on the bin,’ Betty whispered urgently. ‘We’ve got to get out of here!’

  ‘Sorry, ants. No toffee for you lot,’ Bobby explained to the remaining ants, as he blocked their progress to the sticky treat in the bin.

  Minnie was now whistling more or less constantly.

  ‘Hurry!’ said Betty, as she opened the shed door very slightly and peered out. ‘Coast is clear!’

  The two hyena pups slipped back into the playground. Carrying the bin between them, they made their way swiftly around the school building towards the gap in the fence.

  ‘Hold it right there, you two!’ boomed a loud, cross voice, and a large, rotund shadow loomed over the twins.

  ‘Bobby and Betty Bold, I do believe... What exactly do you think you are up to?’ asked Mr Herbert, the school caretaker. He was a big man and known as a ‘no nonsense’ character.

  The twins froze. ‘Ah, er, hello, Mr Herbert,’ stammered Betty.

  ‘We’re not “up to” anything, honest!’ said Bobby, playing for time while he tried to think of a believable excuse.

  ‘Yes, you are,’ stated Mr Herbert. ‘Trouble follows you two around like a bad smell. You’re on school grounds in the school holidays when you’ve no business here. Carrying a dustbin, no less. What’s in it, eh?’

  ‘Nothing!’ cried Betty.

  ‘We always carry a bin around with us,’ said Bobby desperately. ‘Just in case.’

  ‘In case of what, might I ask?’ demanded the caretaker.

  ‘In case we need to put some litter in it,’ improvised Betty.

  ‘Rubbish!’ barked Mr Herbert.

  ‘Exa
ctly!’ answered Bobby, rather pleased with himself. ‘We’re very green, you see. We’re Green Monitors for next term and we are, er, getting some practice in. We pick up rubbish wherever we see it, don’t we, Betty?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ nodded Betty. ‘All day long.’

  ‘Doing our bit for the community, you see.’

  ‘No need to thank us – we do it because we care,’ concluded Betty, attempting a saintly expression, which didn’t come naturally.

  ‘Good day to you,’ added Bobby. ‘We’ll be off now.’ The twins picked up the bin and hurried away from the caretaker.

  ‘Not so fast!’ said Mr Herbert, running after them and grabbing them each by the scruff of the neck. ‘You haven’t explained what you’re doing on school property. This is a serious matter and I’m going to have to write a report and give it to the headteacher.’

  ‘Er,’ said Betty.

  ‘Um...’ said Bobby.

  ‘You Bold twins are in big, big trouble!’ said Mr Herbert, tightening his grip. ‘You’re coming with me.’

  Just then he was interrupted by a familiar cackling laugh. Everyone turned to see Mr Bold bounding towards them.

  Ha ha ha! Why didn’t the

  nose want to go to school?

  Because he was tired

  of being picked on!

  How do bees get to school?

  On the school buzz!

  ‘Dad!’ cried the twins, giggling with relief.

  ‘Mr Bold,’ said Mr Herbert angrily. ‘Can you please explain why—’

  Why is a school like an old bus?

  Because it’s full of nuts and has a crank up front!

  ‘Stop telling stupid jokes, Mr Bold!’ demanded Mr Herbert, getting red in the face.

  ‘Knock, knock!’ continued Fred Bold.

  ‘MR BOLD! BE QUIET!’ boomed the caretaker, actually jumping up and down with frustration and anger.

  Mr Bold did as requested, straightened his face and his hat and offered an innocent, questioning face. ‘How can I help you, Mr Herbert?’

  ‘I want an explanation, Mr Bold, and I want it NOW! WHY were your children found on school grounds carrying a large dustbin? Eh?’

  ‘Yes, right,’ smiled Mr Bold. ‘An explanation, no problem...’ He looked at Bobby and Betty, then at the bin, then back to Mr Herbert. ‘Yes. Er. Yes. Hmmmm.’ Mr Bold gazed at the sky, then at the trees swaying in the breeze, thinking hard.

  ‘I’m waiting,’ said Mr Herbert, tapping his foot impatiently.

  ‘Got it!’ said Mr Bold at last. ‘It’s the wind, you see,’ he began. The twins looked at their father, confused.

  ‘The wind?’ repeated Mr Herbert, leaning forward and frowning.

  ‘Yes, the wind. Awfully blowy today, isn’t it?’

  ‘What has the weather got to do with anything?’

  ‘Well, we’d been to the recycling centre, you see, to empty the bin, which was full of rubbish. We Bolds are very green, you know.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve heard,’ said Mr Herbert flatly.

  ‘We were on our way home, and the bin was on the roof of the car.’

  ‘On the roof?’ Mr Herbert asked suspiciously.

  ‘Wouldn’t fit inside. My little blue Honda is rather compact, don’t you know. Anyway, we were driving past the school when there was a sudden gust of wind. The bin blew off, flew up in the air, over the school fence and landed here. Bobby and Betty – always such helpful children – offered to retrieve it while I parked the car. That’s it. Perfectly innocent.’

  Mr Herbert scratched his head. ‘Er, I don’t know about this,’ he said. ‘Sounds suspicious to me.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ cried Mr Bold. ‘I can quite understand you jumping to the wrong conclusion. Spotting two youngsters in your school during the holidays, carrying a bin. Who wouldn’t? A timely reminder to us all what an excellent school caretaker you are! As I was saying to Mrs Dobson, the headteacher, only the other week. Best in the business, you are, Mr Herbert.’

  ‘Oh, am I? Thank you very much, Mr Bold. Very kind, I’m sure.’ The caretaker was suddenly beaming with pride.

  ‘Don’t mention it. All sorted now. We’d better be off. Come on, kids!’ said Mr Bold brightly. ‘I’ll help you with that naughty dustbin.’

  And with a cheery wave, Mr Bold, Bobby and Betty swiftly left the school and went in search of Minnie. Once they were all safely in the car, Mr Bold told the twins they shouldn’t have been breaking in to school.

  ‘But we needed the ants for Annika!’ said Betty.

  ‘What else could we do?’ asked Bobby.

  ‘Annika?’

  ‘An elderly, homeless lady we met on the high street,’ explained Bobby. ‘Only she’s not an old lady really, she’s an aardvark and a very hungry one.’

  ‘I see. But you went out the house without telling anyone. Your mother was worried sick when I got home from work.’

  ‘Sorry, Dad,’ apologised Betty.

  ‘We didn’t think,’ said Bobby.

  ‘And while we’re at it, Mr McNumpty is most upset about the rubbish you tipped over his fence.’

  ‘It was only for a little while. We’ll clear it up when we get back. Promise.’

  ‘Yes, you will. And maybe tidy up his garden too, to say sorry.’

  It was unusual for Mr Bold to be cross with his children, and the journey back to Fairfield Road proceeded in silence.

  ‘Dad?’ asked Bobby eventually.

  ‘Yes, son?’ replied Mr Bold.

  ‘How did you know where we were? Only, if you hadn’t arrived when you did, we would have been in really big trouble.’

  ‘Aha!’ replied Mr Bold, brightening up instantly. ‘I tracked you! We hyenas have an excellent sense of smell, remember? I picked up your scent by the back door and just followed it all the way to the school. Had to keep pretending I’d dropped something as passers-by wondered why I was sniffing the pavement.’

  Back at 41 Fairfield Road, Annika was delighted with the bin full of ants.

  ‘Delicious!’ she declared, her long tongue lapping up mouthfuls of the juicy insects hungrily. ‘This is a proper meal. Thank you so much. This should keep me going until suppertime at least!’

  Bobby, Betty and Minnie looked at each other and laughed.

  Before we get on to the next chapter, might I just refer you back to the beginning of this book and my ruminations on right and wrong... remember?

  Do you think the twins were right or wrong to break in to the school to get some ants for their hungry visitor? Were they being kind or were they being naughty? Perhaps you and your friends can have a heated debate about it. That’ll pass the time.

  As you know, the Bolds were in the midst of clearing out the spare bedroom for Fifi the poodle. So Mrs Bold was wondering how and where they were going to accommodate Annika, when the aardvark herself came up with a solution. Soon after polishing off her bin full of ants, she began to yawn.

  ‘Do you mind, Amelia, if I take a nap now?’

  ‘Of course,’ replied Mrs Bold. ‘You must be very tired after sleeping in the streets without a proper bed.’

  ‘Yes, although a proper bed doesn’t suit me. Aardvarks sleep in burrows in the wild... I actually have my eye on your cupboard under the stairs. Might I slip in there, do you think?’

  ‘No problem, Annika,’ replied Mrs Bold, moving to the hall and opening the cupboard door. ‘I’ll just move the hoover and the ironing board out the way for you.’

  ‘I won’t need much space. We sleep curled up in a ball. That laundry basket would be ideal.’ And Annika slipped past Mrs Bold and into the basket. ‘Lovely!’ she said with a contented sigh.

  ‘Sure it won’t be too dark or dusty in here?’

  But Annika was already asleep, snoring contentedly as soon as her eyes were closed. Mr Bold came to see tha
t their guest was comfortable.

  ‘Sleeping like a baby,’ said Mrs Bold, in hushed tones.

  What do baby footballers do in their sleep?

  Dribble!

  Mrs Bold closed the cupboard door so her laughing didn’t disturb Annika.

  The next day everyone continued getting the spare room ready for Fifi. Mr Bold and Uncle Tony said they’d do the decorating. Miranda the monkey would do the hard-to-reach spots.

  ‘Fifi is a big star these days. It won’t do as it is,’ said Mr McNumpty. ‘She’s used to luxury!’

  ‘Smells a bit too,’ pointed out Uncle Tony.

  ‘That’s hardly surprising,’ agreed Mr McNumpty. ‘There’s been all manner of guests in there. I can smell fox, otter and goose – and we haven’t even got to the top of the stairs yet!’

  ‘What colour shall we paint it?’ asked Tony.

  ‘Yellow, I think,’ said his friend decisively. ‘Buttercup yellow. Nice and cheerful. It’ll go beautifully with the orange pattern in the carpet.’

  ‘Er, that’s not a pattern,’ pointed out Uncle Tony. ‘It’s a stain left by Craig the wild boar. He didn’t always make it to the loo on time.’

  But eventually the decorating was done and the carpet, curtains and windows were cleaned. Everyone worked very hard to make the room perfect. A new mattress for the bed was needed as the old one was beyond saving (Craig, again – but let’s not dwell on his personal hygiene issues. Boars will be boars, is all I can say). A new dressing table was acquired for nothing from a FreeCycle website, together with a smart new chair.

  Finally Mrs Bold placed a lovely vase of flowers on the windowsill.

  ‘Well done, everyone!’ she declared.

  The following Saturday the Bolds, together with Mr McNumpty and Uncle Tony, were having a soya mince shepherd’s pie for their lunch. Annika was snoozing in her laundry basket in the cupboard under the stairs and Mr Bold was amusing everyone with some jokes as usual: