by Judy Brown
‘Excuse us!’ said Jack, as he squeezed the chair inside.
‘Ow! That’s my foot!’ said a lady who was taking up half of the lift with her pet ostrich.
‘So sorry,’ apologised Jack, ducking just in time as the ostrich went to peck him.
As the lift descended, Jack could hear that they were calling his number and he was still holding it in one hand as the doors of the lift opened and the passengers, packed in like sardines, practically fell out. One of the assistants came out of the doors from the auditorium.
‘Number fifty-two, calling number fifty-two.’
Jack opened his mouth to make his excuses, but it was too late.
‘Ah! There you are,’ said the assistant. ‘You nearly missed your turn.’
So Jack and Buster – who was full of energy now – were ushered towards the auditorium.
‘But I don’t …’ Jack tried to say.
‘Come along, it’s Buster the singing dog, isn’t it?’
They were bustled through the door and down to the stage, Jack protesting all the way.
‘But we’re not ready … I don’t feel well … er … Buster needs more practise …’
‘Nonsense, it’s just nerves,’ said the assistant. Before he knew it Jack was on stage.
Anya looked through a crack in the door.
‘Oh dear,’ she said.
Up in the lighting rig, Flo was surprised to say the least.
‘Are you still here, Archie? What’s going on?’ she asked over their intercom. ‘Jack’s just come on stage.’
‘I’ll explain later, Flo,’ said Archie. ‘Wish him luck. He’s going to need it.’
‘Welcome, welcome!’ said Phil the presenter, a little less enthusiastically than earlier. ‘What are your names?’
Staring at all the faces staring up at him, Jack was struck dumb with terror.
‘It’s Jack and Buster, isn’t it?’ said Phil, realising Jack needed some help. ‘And what can Buster do?’ he asked.
‘Buster sings – well, howls really,’ said Jack, blushing like a beetroot.
‘Oh, right …’ said Phil, obviously unimpressed. ‘Well, take it away, Jack and Buster.’
Jack took a leaf out of Sophie’s book and went for the simplest song he could think of.
‘He-hem.’ Jack cleared his throat, took a deep breath and began. ‘Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O …’
Now Jack’s singing voice wasn’t good at the best of times, and feeling nervous and standing in front of a theatre full of people really didn’t help. Some of them discreetly put their fingers in their ears. A couple of toddlers started to cry.
Jack soldiered on, but what made things worse was that Buster didn’t seem remotely interested in joining in. He was far more interested in smelling all the amazing new smells that the other animals had left on the stage.
People began to giggle. Flo could barely watch. By the time that Jack had gone through the cows, ducks and pigs that Old MacDonald had on his farm, nearly every other dog in the building was howling, but it was clear that Buster was having none of it. In fact, what he did next was far worse. He trotted over to Phil the presenter, who was standing at the edge of the stage waiting to announce the next act, lifted his leg and peed. All over Phil’s foot.
The audience erupted! The judges fell about laughing. Jack was mortified when he realised that Phil was now standing in a puddle of Buster’s wee. He ran over, scooped up the puppy and fled, just as four big red ‘NO’s lit up over the stage.
‘That was the most embarrassing moment of my entire life,’ said Jack as they walked back to the school with Archie in the wheelchair and Sparky sitting on his lap. ‘If someone uploads it to YouTube, I’m never leaving the house again.’
Anya tried to cheer him up by changing the subject.
‘Archie, Flo and Sparky had a good time, though,’ she said, ‘didn’t you, guys?’
‘Yes!’ Archie and Sparky said together.
‘And Charlie was awesome,’ Jack said, trying to forget his terrible audition.
Back at the theatre, things were winding down. Flo, still perched high up on the lighting rig, was watching the last few contestants. She’d seen the little old lady with the clipboard talk to many pet owners, but not all of them. ‘I wonder why?’ Flo asked herself. She also felt that she’d seen the lady before somewhere but couldn’t work out where.
The judges left, the theatre emptied and Flo decided it was time to go home. She flew back to the window she’d opened earlier and climbed back out onto the roof. Then something odd was captured by her visual sensors. The little old lady with the clipboard was getting into a battered old van in the car park. Flo used her telescopic vision to zoom in on the writing on the side of the van. It was faded and peeling in places but she could still read it.
‘Peggy’s Pet Emporium. That’s strange,’ thought Flo, as she headed home. So the old lady wasn’t part of the Pet Factor crew. I wonder what the clipboard was for?
Peggy was on her way home. On the seat next to her was a scrawny little Chihuahua wearing a massive blue bow.
‘Well, Chico,’ said Peggy, ‘quite a few talented pets today and I have all of their details.It’s going to be a busy evening.’
‘Yip!’ yapped Chico.
Chapter 6
Bad News
The next morning, Flo’s mind was still buzzing with the excitement of the auditions, and the first thing she did when she got up was browse the Pet Factor website to see if there was any mention of Charlie. Instead she found some surprising news.
‘Hey, Archie, look at this,’ she said. ‘Some of the pets from last week’s auditions which went through to the semi-finals, have been withdrawn from the competition. It says here that Dennis the Dancing Dachshund and Mia the Meerkat have been withdrawn by their owners on medical advice – what a shame.’
‘They were two of the best ones,’ said Sparky. ‘Even more of a chance for Sophie and Charlie then.’
‘Oooh, I hadn’t thought of that!’ said Flo. ‘I can’t wait to see her and tell her how well they did.’
News about Sophie’s success had spread around the school pretty fast and she’d become a bit of a celebrity. Fortunately, only a few of them had heard about Jack’s woeful performance, so all he’d had to deal with were a few nudges and giggles in the corridors.
As soon as the group met up in the stationery cupboard, Flo flew over and gave Sophie a big hug.
‘Aw, thanks, Flo,’ Sophie said.
‘Did you hear about the acts that pulled out?’ asked Jack. ‘I reckon Charlie could win the whole competition.’
‘I’ve got to get through Saturday’s semi-final first,’ said Sophie. ‘It’s going to be really scary doing it in on live TV.’
‘You’ll be brilliant,’ said Flo. ‘I know you will.’
‘If it’s live on TV we can watch it here,’ said Archie.
‘It’s not the same,’ grumbled Flo. ‘Couldn’t I go on my own to the theatre?’
‘But what if something happened to you?’ Archie said. ‘The Professor made me promise to look after you and Sparky and if I wasn’t with you and you got into trouble there’d be nothing I could do.’
Despite her disappointment, Flo understood. It was nice that Archie cared so much.
The Petbots didn’t see the children for the rest of the day. Sophie was kept busy by the stream of children wanting to hear all about her audition. By the time school was finished she was exhausted!
When the building was empty, Sparky got busy down in the basement doing his usual round, setting off the mousetraps set by Sparrowhawk the caretaker. He did it every night, just in case there were any real mice down there who might get caught by the traps, although he’d never actually seen one. It was great for speed and agility training, and each night Sparky tried to see how fast he could spring the traps. This evening, inspired by what he’d seen at the theatre, he beat his record time by a whole four seconds.
Flo decided
to have yet another look on the Pet Factor website to see if there was any more news.
‘Hey, Archie! Look at this,’ she said. ‘There’s a special announcement.’ Flo read out what was on the screen. ‘News is emerging that four of the pets tipped for success in Pet Factor’s grand final have disappeared. Their owners have made no comments, but as many other competitors have also withdrawn for a variety of reasons, the producers have asked anyone with relevant information to come forward. Saturday’s live semi-final will go ahead as planned.’
‘That’s odd,’ said Archie. ‘Did you notice anything strange yesterday, Flo? You were there until the end and you had a bird’s-eye view of the whole place.’
‘Nothing especially unusual,’ she said, thinking hard. Then she remembered the van. ‘Although, there was that little old lady with the clipboard …’
Chapter 7
Worse News
The next day, on the other side of town, Peggy’s Pet Emporium was opening for business a little later than usual. Peggy picked up the local newspaper that had just come through the door and chuckled when she saw the headline on the front page.
It was about the missing Pet Factor competitors. She was still reading when a customer came in.
‘You’re late to open this morning, Peggy.’
‘Morning, Mrs Parkinson,’ said Peggy. ‘Yes, sorry about that, things to sort out at home.’
‘Terrible business, isn’t it?’ commented Mrs Parkinson, pointing to the paper. ‘It’s a good job your little Chico is safe.’ She looked down at the skinny little Chihuahua dozing in his lavish basket – he was obviously spoilt rotten. ‘I saw you both on the telly last week. Wasn’t he a little star? And that costume he wore?! So adorable! We voted for him, didn’t we, Mac?’ Mac, her scruffy old Scottie dog, wagged his tail happily. ‘Mind you, I hardly recognised you in your glamorous wig, and I never knew your name was Carmelita, I thought it was Peggy.’
‘It’s my middle name, explained Peggy, ‘and I like to look my best when I’m on stage, you know, Mrs P. The usual, is it?’ Mrs Parkinson had been coming in once a week on a Thursday for the past fifteen years. For one dog chew each time.
‘Yes, please. You must be excited about the live grand final!’
Peggy handed her the chew.
‘Have this one on me, Mrs P,’ answered Peggy. Her plan was going so well she was feeling generous.
‘Oh, how kind. I really shouldn’t,’ said Mrs Parkinson, grabbing the bag before Peggy changed her mind. ‘Mind you, if your Chico wins the competition you’ll be rolling in it! Toodlepip!’ she called, wheeling her shopping trolley out of the shop.
Peggy looked at Chico.
‘With all the others out of the way there’ll be no one to beat us,’ she said with a glint in her eye. ‘That snake’s a tricky blighter, though, and the parrot is driving me nuts. If I hear “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” one more time, I may have to throttle it. Never mind, at least we can’t hear them all when we’re here at the shop. Thank goodness I decided not to keep them in the back room. And once we’ve won Pet Factor I can get rid of them. I think I’ll sell them all to foreign customers,’ said Peggy with a cackle.
Chico opened one eye and looked up at her. He wasn’t really asleep, he was trying to avoid the dance practice – and the costume. ‘I hate that sombrero,’ he grumbled to himself. ‘Stupid thing hurts my ears.’
Peggy yawned. ‘I need a coffee,’ she said. ‘It was such a busy night!’
When Sophie arrived at school, it was clear that something was wrong.
‘Hi, Sophie,’ said Jack. ‘You look awful! Are you ill?’
‘No, I’m just worried,’ she said. ‘Look what came through the letterbox this morning. It was hand-delivered.’ She showed Jack and Anya the letter that had arrived in the night. It was made out of cut-out letters from magazines and newspapers. It read:
‘Oh, Sophie!’ said Anya. ‘No wonder you’re worried.’
‘I know it says “Don’t tell anyone” but I knew I could trust you guys,’ she said.
‘You have to show this to Archie,’ said Jack, ‘he’ll know what to do.’
‘That’s why I brought it to school,’ said Sophie sadly. ‘The Petbots are the only ones who can help!’
Back at Peggy’s Pet Emporium, the cup of coffee had filled Peggy with energy.
Chico the Chihuahua looked up at her wistfully, knowing exactly what was coming next. Peggy turned on the CD player and a Mexican cha-cha filled the shop.
She took a Mexican-style dog coat out of the drawer and fastened it on Chico, put a tiny sombrero on his head and then started to dance around the room.
Chico sighed. ‘Here we go again,’ he thought.
‘Come on, Chico, it’s time to cha-cha!’
Chapter 8
Peggy’s Pet Emporium
‘This is really serious,’ said Archie, after reading Sophie’s letter. ‘Are you sure you shouldn’t tell the police?’
‘Look what it says,’ she replied. ‘“Don’t tell anyone.” If I do, whoever it is might take Charlie and not give him back and it would all be my fault.’
Flo put a comforting wing round her shoulder. ‘What can we do, Archie?’ she asked.
Sparky was really angry. He whizzed around the cupboard, sparks flying everywhere. ‘It makes me so mad,’ he said. ‘Those poor pets!’
‘Steady, Sparky, you’ll start a fire if you’re not careful,’ warned Archie.
Sparky slowed down and settled next to Sophie.
‘We can’t let them get away with this,’ said Archie. ‘My guess is it’s one of the other contestants thinning out the competition.’
‘To give themselves a better chance of winning?’ asked Jack.
‘Exactly,’ said Flo.
‘But what do you think they’re doing with the animals?’ said Anya. ‘What’s happening to them?’
Archie looked serious. ‘Hopefully they’re being looked after and will be returned to their owners after the grand final.’
‘There’s nothing for it,’ said Sophie. ‘I’ll just have to withdraw.’
‘No, you have to perform! If Archie’s right,’ said Jack, ‘the first people to investigate are the acts who are still in the competition.’
‘That’s right,’ said Archie. ‘If we work together we can protect Charlie. And we might be able to come up with a plan that finds the stolen animals and catches the petnapper in one go.’ Archie was getting fired up now. ‘Flo, you said something about a little old lady?’
‘Oh, I remember her,’ said Sophie. ‘She asked me some questions when we came off the stage. She seemed very nice, but Charlie wasn’t keen on her. It’s funny, he usually loves a fuss.’
Archie frowned. ‘What did she want to know, Sophie?’
‘She asked me for my address and some other details – it was for a newsletter or the local paper, I think. She spoke with everyone who got through. To be honest I was still buzzing from Charlie’s performance and all the applause, so I didn’t take much notice.’
‘She didn’t talk to everyone,’ corrected Flo. ‘And I saw her drive away in this van, so I don’t think she works for the newspaper …’ Flo projected a piece of film from her memory banks onto the wall. It was Peggy getting into the van outside the theatre.
‘“Peggy’s Pet Emporium”,’ read Anya. ‘That’s the funny old pet shop near the station.’
‘So you know where it is?’ Archie said.
Anya nodded.
‘Why don’t we check it out after school?’ suggested Jack.
‘Good idea,’ agreed Anya.
Archie was quiet and the light in his eyes was pulsing gently, which meant he was thinking hard about something.
‘I have an idea!’ he announced. ‘What if I take Charlie’s place on Saturday – what if I pretend to be him? Then I can investigate backstage, and if I’m petnapped, we can use our tracking system to pinpoint the criminals and the pets!’
‘You’d do that f
or me and Charlie?’ asked Sophie, flinging her arms round him. ‘That’s so brave!’
‘We pets have to stick together,’ Archie said.
‘So Archie would have to do Charlie’s act – play the piano?’ asked Anya.
Suddenly Archie wondered if it been such a good idea after all. He wasn’t really used to going out in public, let alone performing on stage. Unsurprisingly, playing the piano hadn’t been an ability the Professor thought necessary for a robot cat.
‘I hate to point it out,’ said Jack, ‘but Archie doesn’t exactly look a lot like Charlie. I think people are going to notice! He’s much bigger, for one thing, and he hasn’t got any fur.’
‘Hmm,’ said Archie. ‘Well, I can make myself smaller by retracting my legs and arms so I’m Charlie’s size, but I can’t grow fur, I’m afraid.’
‘We could make him a costume!’ suggested Anya.