by Julian Clary
The idea of moving to their own home in Bushy Park thrilled the three house guests.
‘That would be amazing!’ said Annika. ‘We love living with you Bolds, but I like the idea of having our own place – I just couldn’t think how we’d ever find one.’
‘We’ll each have our own room too,’ said Charlie. ‘And food on our doorstep!’
‘I’ll probably roost up in the tree,’ pointed out Fergie. ‘But I’ll use my room to store apples there to eat during winter!’
‘And we are very nearby,’ said Betty. ‘We’ll come and visit you and bring you extra fruit if you need it.’
‘How wonderful!’ said Annika. ‘Thank you all so much. I can’t wait to see it.’
‘We’ll go tomorrow,’ said Mr Bold. ‘Straight after breakfast.’
‘I doubt I’ll be able to sleep, I’m so excited!’ said Annika.
Sometimes when you’re very enthused about something the reality can be a disappointment, don’t you find? The Easter egg you’ve been looking forward to for weeks turns out to be plain chocolate instead of milk and tastes rather bitter. The school trip to Legoland is a washout because it is pouring with rain. The Britain’s Got Talent final is rubbish because no one has any talent. That sort of thing.
Thus it was when the three prospective tenants went to view their new home.
Mr Bold led the way in and Annika, Charlie and Fergie filed in behind him, followed by Mrs Bold and the twins. There was an awkward silence as Mr Bold switched his torch on and shone it around the earthy walls.
‘So, what do you think?’ asked Mr Bold.
‘Oh,’ said Annika flatly. ‘I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but it’s not what I imagined.’
‘It’s a bit, er, rustic,’ said Charlie.
‘And it stinks,’ added Fergie bluntly.
‘I can get you some air freshener,’ said Mrs Bold helpfully.
‘Thank you,’ said Annika, snapping off a root that was dangling from the ceiling.
‘There’s another chamber through here,’ said Bobby, leading the party through a short tunnel.
‘Hmmm,’ said Fergie, acutely aware of the sound of dripping water.
‘It’s not quite what we’re used to,’ said Annika.
‘Awfully dark,’ said Charlie.
‘Oh dear,’ said Mr Bold. ‘Perhaps we should all go back to Number 41 and have a chat.’
‘You don’t have to move in here,’ said Mrs Bold. ‘We thought you’d like it, that’s all.’
Annika looked around the den and pulled a face. ‘I’m sure it will be lovely when it’s finished.’
Back home after a frank conversation, everything became clear: the location and the dimensions of the den were perfect, but the problem was, although they were animals, Annika, Charlie and Fergie were not used to living like animals. Years in captivity had domesticated them to a degree, and there was no going back.
‘All that earth!’ said Fergie. ‘So depressing! Couldn’t we have carpet on the floor? And wallpaper on the walls?’
‘And I’m so used to sleeping in my laundry basket. I don’t think I’d be able to just curl up on a pile of old leaves.’
‘Oh, I get it,’ said Betty. ‘You want it to be more homely?’
‘That’s the word, yes!’ nodded Annika. ‘You don’t think we’re being fussy, do you?’
‘No, no, I understand,’ said Mrs Bold. ‘You want what you’re used to, that’s all.’
‘A dark, dirty den seems so primitive,’ explained Charlie with a shudder. ‘Even in the zoo we had clean lino floors and dimmed lighting.’
Bobby jumped up suddenly. ‘Well, we could make it into a super-den for you!’
Everyone looked very interested in this idea.
‘We learned all about it at school, didn’t we, Sis?’
‘Yes!’ said Betty. ‘A sustainable, eco-friendly home made entirely from natural materials!’
‘A perfect project for Green Monitors!’ declared Bobby proudly.
‘Yes!’ said Annika.
‘What fun!’ said Mr Bold.
‘What clever children!’ said Mrs Bold proudly.
Plans were under way the very next day and once Mr McNumpty got wind of it, he declared himself to be Project Manager. The dining room at 39 Fairfield Road became the centre of operations and a sign saying
DEN CONVERSION HQ
was put on the door. There were spreadsheets, diagrams and moodboards sprawled across his mahogany dining table. He even took to keeping a pencil tucked behind his ear, which made him seem very professional.
He gathered everyone together for a briefing.
‘Good morning, team. There are a few essential points I wish you to bear in mind at all times. Firstly – secrecy! Remember that this eco-dwelling must be invisible from the outside. However state of the art the interior is to be, to the casual passer-by in Bushy Park it must look like a foxhole. And we must not draw attention to ourselves during the construction. We don’t want nosy park-keepers asking awkward questions. Understood?’
Everyone nodded.
‘Secondly – cost! We have a budget of zero pounds and zero pence at present. I suggest we try and stick to that, so all materials must be recycled or acquired for free.’
Fifi stood up. ‘Excusez-moi. I have une idée... I am willing to perform a benefit concert to raise money for the décorations de maison.’
‘Oh, Fifi, how kind. That would be wonderful!’ said Annika.
‘Oui,’ agreed Fifi graciously. ‘Can someone please book the London Palladium for next Friday?’
‘Er, I think it is probably already booked,’ said Mrs Bold gently.
‘Really?’ Fifi tutted. ‘Then it will have to be the Albert Hall, je suppose.’
It took another half an hour to convince Fifi that her idea, although very generous, wasn’t feasible at such short notice. The fundraising offer looked like it might come to nothing, until Minnie, with careful diplomacy, had a rather brilliant suggestion.
‘Do you like Christina Aguilera, Fifi?’ she asked.
‘Mais oui. A little shrill on the high notes, but she is formidable and almost as big a star as moi. Pourquoi?’
‘It’s just that I saw a video on YouTube of her in disguise, busking on the New York subway.’
Fifi’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Busking? Non!’
‘Yes, it’s true. Miley Cyrus does it too.’
‘The shame of it!’ declared Fifi.
‘Not really. I think it shows you are in touch with your fans. Who needs a theatre or a concert hall?’
‘Are you suggesting I go and busk on Teddington High Street?’
‘Well, why not? Ed Sheeran started out as a busker.’
‘Hmmm,’ said Fifi. ‘Peut-être. I suppose it might work...’
‘You’d be a sensation!’ said Betty. ‘I’ll hold the hat for people to put change in.’
‘Ten and twenty-pound notes, surely?’ corrected Fifi.
‘And I’ll come and be your bouncer!’ offered Bobby.
So it was that Fifi Lampadaire, singer extraordinaire, was seen howling songs beautifully and accompanying herself on the guitar outside Greggs every afternoon for the next week, her adorable pups sleeping in the guitar case at her feet. Betty, with the help of Miranda, was there to helpfully thrust a hat at passers-by to encourage donations. Lots of money was raised – and several polite enquiries about whether homes were needed for the pups too.
While all this was happening, Mr Bold drove his little blue Honda to the recycling centre where Uncle Tony, Annika and Charlie helped him load it up with everything from old floorboards to water pipes, second-hand insulation, half-used tins of paint, chipboard, a water butt, rolls of discarded wallpaper and even a decorative floral hearth rug.
The twins had neve
r been so busy. It was really quite a project and it took up all their free time. They only wished it wasn’t a secret and that they could tell their teacher, Mrs Millin, about it. She’d be so proud of her Green Monitors making an eco-home. It was so much fun all working together, but there was one small thing on Betty’s mind.
‘Bobby,’ she said one morning as they were painting a lovely small chair they’d found. ‘Everyone’s so busy at the moment, do you think they’ve forgotten what day it is next week?’
‘What day?’ he asked.
‘You know, the first of May!’
‘First of May?’ screeched Bobby. ‘Really? You mean our birthday? Wow. I’d forgotten myself. I don’t know. No one’s mentioned it.’
‘Mum and Dad are so busy, I feel bad reminding them. And we’ve got zero pounds and zero pence, remember, so I don’t think there’s going to be any money for presents.’
‘I wish you hadn’t reminded me now,’ said Bobby. ‘Surely they won’t forget. It’s a big one. We’re going to be ten. Double digits.’
But no one seemed to be mentioning it at all. The twins tried to drop hints, like asking Mr Bold what the date would be next Saturday, and asking Mrs Bold for the story of their birth, but Mr Bold was too tired to work it out, and Mrs Bold was too tired to remember. So that seemed to be that.
‘Never mind,’ said Betty. ‘Not many hyenas celebrate their birthday, I’m sure. It’s a very human thing to do and we’re not really humans.’
Back at HQ Mr McNumpty had calculated the measurements for every wall and floor of the den and materials were cut accordingly then smuggled into the eco-home. Planks of wood were hidden down trouser legs, curtains concealed in backpacks. Bit by bit the new den took shape. A compost loo, a sink and even a camping stove, in case Annika wanted to try some stir-fried ants for a change. Fergie flew back and forth over the park wall in the dead of night, carrying various items, and hid them in the ferns where the twins and Miranda the monkey retrieved them the next day and took them down the foxhole into the den when no one was looking. Guttering was covered in moss to provide a hidden water supply, a concealed ventilation shaft was built too, to provide fresh air, and with Fifi’s earnings a few other essential items were purchased: eco-friendly wind-up torches, (second-hand) plates, bowls, pots and pans, a broom, a mop and bucket, bedding, and the all-important laundry basket. Everyone was involved in all aspects of the makeover and the group effort definitely paid off.
Mr McNumpty called everyone into HQ and declared they were just about finished and the new den would be ready for Annika, Charlie and Fergie to move into the next day. The first of May.
‘You have worked extremely hard, and I congratulate you all!’ he said. ‘Project Den is now completed and I’d like to wish the new residents every happiness in their new home. Now let’s give ourselves a big round of applause!’
When the clapping and whooping was finished, Annika stood up and wiped a tear from her eye.
‘On behalf of Charlie, Fergie and myself, can I thank you all from the bottom of our hearts. The Bolds – and of course I include Mr McNumpty, Uncle Tony, Minnie, Miranda and Fifi – are the loveliest, kindest creatures ever. Not only do you help people – strangers, even – and welcome them into your home, you help them to realise their dreams. We are amazed and for ever grateful to you. You have, quite simply, filled our hearts with happiness and joy – and laughter!’
‘Tomorrow we should have a grand opening ceremony,’ suggested Mrs Bold.
‘A very good idea!’ said Fergie.
‘Let’s all meet at three o’clock by the old oak tree,’ said Mr Bold.
‘You’ll come, won’t you, Minnie?’ said Mrs Bold.
‘I’d love to,’ said Minnie.
Mrs Bold gave her a hug. ‘It’s the twins’ birthday tomorrow,’ she whispered quietly. ‘There will be a cake! And maybe more...’
‘Oh, thank you!’ said Minnie, her eyes shining with delight. ‘Betty and Bobby mentioned that it was their birthday. I think they thought you had forgotten, what with all the excitement of building the new den. They didn’t like to remind you.’
‘Oh no. We haven’t forgotten, Minnie dear. Far from it!’
In fact, the event in Bushy Park was to be much more than a grand opening for the den. Mr and Mrs Bold wanted to do something lovely for Bobby and Betty’s tenth birthday. For weeks they had been secretly planning a surprise party – and as it happened the den completion had occurred at just the right time and provided the perfect cover. Uncle Tony and Mr McNumpty had spent ages secretly making bunting, party food had been bought and hidden, but the best surprise was who was going to be there...
As many of the former students and residents of 41 Fairfield Road as possible had been invited. It had been Mr McNumpty’s brainwave. ‘Let’s invite all the animals they know and love,’ he’d suggested.
‘But how can we get in touch with them all?’ asked Mr Bold, scratching his head. ‘We don’t have addresses for them, do we?’
‘We don’t,’ said Mrs Bold. ‘What a shame. I know where a couple of our dear friends live, like Sylvie and Bert, but not many of the others.’
‘But you’re the Bolds, remember?’ pointed out Fergie. ‘All animals know about you. I was told by an otter in Oz!’
‘Hmmm,’ said Mrs Bold, looking doubtful.
‘We just need to alert all the animals, don’t you see?’ said Charlie.
‘News of the party will spread like wildfire,’ said Annika. ‘Animals can just pass on the message.’
‘Brilliant idea!’ said Mrs Bold.
‘I love it!’ said Mr Bold.
‘Let’s make the message this: It’s Bobby and Betty’s birthday. The Bolds are having a party in Bushy Park on 1st May – all friends welcome. Pass it on!’ said Mrs Bold excitedly.
‘I think it might just work. Thank you, Annika!’ said Mr Bold.
News of the party was told to all and sundry in the animal world, wherever Mr and Mrs Bold and their friends encountered them. They began by telling the ducks at the pond, the deer in the park, and the cats, dogs and squirrels in Fairfield Road. Fergie flew on nightly expeditions and informed all the sheep, cows, horses and badgers in the countryside. Miranda the monkey swung up into the trees and told the birds, who then flew off all around spreading the word. And all the other animals in Fairfield Road told their friends, who told their friends, and so the news travelled far and wide. Similar to how things go ‘viral’ on the internet – but without the need for any computers. All the Bolds could do was hope that their old friends, wherever they might be living, heard about the party and were able to make it. But no one knew for sure.
As the day of the party approached, the excitement grew. And everyone had to be very careful not to let any word slip in front of the twins, of course.
Which reminds me of something I raised at the beginning of the story – the complex nature of the wrong thing versus the right thing. Is it wrong to keep secrets from your children and trick them, or is it right to give them the best surprise party ever? When I was a child I was asked what I’d like for my birthday. ‘A bicycle,’ I said. My mother shook her head sadly. ‘I’m afraid we can’t afford one. How about a yo-yo instead?’ I said I didn’t mind, although I really wanted a bike. Then, on the big day, my mother asked me to go and get a loaf of bread out of the freezer in the garage – and there it was! A bicycle! (Leaning against the freezer, not inside it, obvs.) So what are the rights and wrongs of all this? Should we let someone feel a bit sad for a while so that they can enjoy a great rush of happiness later on? I’ll let you decide.
‘I wonder if there will be enough cake to go round? Or too much?’ pondered Mrs Bold, as she wrote ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY BETTY AND BOBBY!’ in white icing on top of the cake the night before the big event.
‘I do hope that is organic and the flour was from sustainable sources,’ said Fifi pr
imly.
‘And gluten-free,’ added Uncle Tony.
‘Yes, of course!’ Mrs Bold reassured her health-conscious friends.
Why did the hyena get heartburn after eating birthday cake?
He forgot to take off the candles!
Finally the big day arrived. Sandwiches, crisps, samosas, fruit salad, dips, vegetable batons, peanuts, vegan sausage rolls, iced buns and a birthday cake were all placed carefully in a hamper, which was then balanced on top of the sturdy wheelbarrow that was already piled high with picnic rugs, cushions and folding chairs, all to be transported to Bushy Park.
‘Seems like an awful lot of food,’ said Mr Bold, licking his lips. ‘How many people are we expecting, Amelia?’
‘Who knows?’ laughed Mrs Bold.
‘The more the merrier!’ said Uncle Tony, packing reusable cups into Miranda’s pram.
It was important that everything was ready well before the twins arrived in the park, so Minnie waited for them at the park gate. Her job was to delay their arrival at the oak tree until a signal – a high-pitched cackle from Mr Bold – which would let her know the party was all set up and it was safe to bring the star guests there. When planning a surprise party, the ‘surprise’ bit is all-important.
‘Hi, Betty, hi, Bobby!’ said Minnie, when her friends arrived.
Knock, knock!
Who’s there?
Gus.
Gus who?
Gus whose birthday it is today!
Minnie gave the twins a hug while making sure not to squash Walter, her little dog, who was asleep inside her cardigan.
‘I made you “Happy Birthday” badges,’ she added, pinning a big star on each of their chests.
‘Thank you!’ said Betty. ‘At least someone’s remembered.’
What has wings, a long, colourful tail and wears a bow?