‘YOU. I told you to be here on time.’
‘I am,’ said Howard.
‘You can’t be,’ said Mr Bullerton. ‘I saw you going the wrong way. Twice. Waving sausages.‘
‘No, no,’ said Howard, soothingly. ‘I think you must have bumped your head.’
‘I’ll bump your head,’ said Mr Bullerton. ‘Just you listen to me. I don’t want any muck-ups with this conference. We’ll have everything smooth, and everything nice. Yes?’
‘Oh yes,’ agreed Howard.
‘Because,’ continued Mr Bullerton, breathing heavily, ‘if it goes well, I’m going to get a promotion.’
‘Wonderful,’ said Howard. ‘Well done.’
‘And if it doesn’t go well, you’re going to get fired. Understand?’
‘Absolutely,’ said Howard.
‘Good,’ said Mr Bullerton. He
stomped off, so Howard collected his room key and then collected the Clumsies, who were waiting outside.
‘Where’s the trolley?’ asked Howard.
‘We’ve hidden it,’ said Purvis. ‘So as not to attract attention.’
‘And in case we need to make a Quick GETAWAY,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Very wise,’ said Howard. ‘Come on then: let’s go and find our room.’ He picked up the bags and led the way back into the hotel.
‘EXCUSE ME, SIR,’ said a loud voice, and everyone jumped. It was the hotel receptionist.
‘Is that your dog? You can’t bring a dog in here. Not unless it’s a guide dog. Is it a guide dog?’
‘No,’ said Howard, ‘but—’
‘Well you can’t bring it in then,’ said the receptionist, firmly.
‘You’ll have to tether it in the outhouse.’
The mice gasped, and Allen gave a gulp.
‘Surely not?’ said Howard.
‘I’ve said,’ said the receptionist, even more firmly.
Howard led the way back out of the hotel.
‘I’m ever so sorry,’ said Allen.
‘It isn’t your fault, Allen,’ said Purvis.
‘Why do they not allow dogs, but don’t mind about elephants?’ asked Mickey Thompson.
‘No idea,’ said Howard.
‘Shall we disguise Allen as an elephant?’ asked Mickey Thompson.
‘No,’ said Howard.
‘There’s nothing to use,’ said Purvis, looking around. ‘Unless…’
He looked at Howard’s suitcase.
‘No,’ said Howard.
‘But if he was wearing clothes, they might think he’s a person.’
‘Unlikely,’ said Howard.
‘Let’s try,’ said Purvis.
So the mice emptied the suitcase out on to the ground and rummaged through.
‘These are the right kind of length,’ said Purvis, holding up a pair of boxer shorts.
‘Actually,’ began Howard, ‘I don’t really—’
‘Try them, Allen,’ said Purvis. Allen tried them.
‘And this,’ said Mickey Thompson, passing a shirt. Allen put it on.
‘I’m not sure about the colour,’ said Allen.
‘Why’s that?’ asked
Purvis.
‘What?’ said Howard.
‘Why’s what?’
‘It’s a bit gaudy,’ said Allen.
Purvis giggled. ‘Yes, it is a bit.’
‘What?’ said Howard. ‘What’s he saying?’
‘I quite like it,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘So do I,’ said Howard.
‘It’ll just have to do for now, Allen,’ said Purvis. ‘It’s only for getting in with—you don’t have to wear it all the time.’
‘That’s a very nice shirt, that is,’ said Howard.
‘Yes, it’s lovely, Howard,’ said Purvis. ‘Right, what’s next?’
‘These,’ said Mickey Thompson, handing over a hat and a pair of sunglasses. Allen put those on too.
‘Perfect!’ said Purvis.
‘I’m extremely fond of that shirt,’ said Howard.
‘We’re ready, Howard,’ said Purvis.
‘Oh come along then,’ said Howard. He picked up the bags and led the way back into the hotel, put-outly.
said a loud voice, and everyone jumped. It was the hotel receptionist.
Everyone stood very still.
‘Can I help you, sir?’ asked the receptionist, staring at Allen.
‘NO, THANK YOU!’ shouted Howard.
Everyone moved carefully towards the lift, where a woman was waiting.
‘MORNING!’ shouted Howard, at the woman.
‘Morning,’ said the woman, staring at Allen.
‘Hello!’ said Purvis, to the lift.
‘Shoosh,’ hissed Howard. ‘Try to seem normal.’
‘You what?’ said the woman.
‘What?’ said Howard. ‘Not you. Ha ha!’
The woman gave Howard a funny look.
‘Err, SIR?’ called the receptionist.
‘We’ll take the stairs,’ said Howard, and everyone charged over to the staircase and raced up a flight, around a corner, up another flight, around another corner, and down a very long corridor.
‘Just like being back in the office,’ observed Mickey Thompson.
‘Hmph,’ said Howard, stopping in front of a door. ‘Here we are. 216.’ He unlocked the door and they all stepped through into a large room, which had flowery-patterned walls, flowery-patterned curtains, and a bed with a flowery-patterned bedspread on it.
‘Biscuits!’ said Mickey Thompson, pointing.
‘Tea bags, said Howard, staggering
When they’d drunk all the tea and eaten all the biscuits, the Clumsies climbed on the bed and started to bounce.
‘Right,’ said Howard.
‘Wheel‘ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Listen,’ said Howard.
‘We’re listening,’ said Purvis.
‘I’ve got to go to the conference now.’
‘Whe-hey!’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Will you be all right while I’m gone?’
‘Of course,’ said Purvis, still bouncing.
‘Don’t make a mess. Don’t break anything.’
‘We’ll go and play on the beach,’ said Purvis.
‘Don’t get lost, and don’t do anything… silly.’
‘Of course not,’ said Purvis. ‘I’ve got my notes: we’ll know what to do.’
‘Hmm,’ said Howard.
So Howard went off to the conference and the mice and Allen and Ortrud went to the beach.
There was a narrow, pebbly bit and a wide sandy bit, and a huge stretch of sea, and an enormous amount of sky. It was lovely.
‘What’s first then?’ asked Mickey Thompson.
‘Paddling,’ said Purvis, and they all raced down to the edge of the sea and then raced back again, squealing.
‘I got splashed!’ said Allen.
‘We’re supposed to stand right in, and kick about,’ said Purvis.
‘Let’s do that later,’ said Mickey Thompson. ‘When it’s warmer.’
‘OK,’ said Purvis, turning to the next page in his notebook.
‘Um, Having a Donkey Ride,’ he announced.
‘Are you sure?’ asked Mickey Thompson, sounding doubtful.
‘That’s what it says,’ said Purvis.
‘Oh look, there’s one over there.’
Otrud gave a loud TRUMPET and started galloping towards the donkey. By the time the mice and Allen had caught up, Ortrud and the donkey were sharing a carrot.
‘Hello!’ said Purvis, to the donkey.
The donkey blinked at him, and carried on chewing.
‘Can we have a ride?’ asked Mickey Thompson.
The donkey sighed, and carried on chewing.
‘Can we have a carrot?’ asked Mickey Thompson, giggling a bit.
The donkey stopped chewing and went very still.
‘This your elephant?’
‘Err, yes,’ said Purvis. ‘Sorry i
f she… your carrot… err…’
‘S’all right. I quite like elephants,’ said the donkey, and started chewing again.
‘Good. Well, thank you, Elizabeth,’ said Purvis.
The donkey didn’t say anything else so they set off back down the beach.
Ortrud trotted after them.
‘Elizabeth?’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘It was written on her harness thing,’ said Purvis.
‘She didn’t seem too keen on the ride idea,’ said Allen.
‘It was probably her break or something,’ said Purvis, turning to the next page in his notebook. ‘We can try again later. Right. Um, Making a Sandcastle,’ he announced, and they set to work digging scrabbling and patting.
Once they’d made a big mound of sand they stood back to have a look.
‘Done?’ asked Mickey Thompson.
‘I’m not sure,’ said Purvis. ‘It isn’t very… err…’
‘Castley?’ said Allen.
‘Mmm,’ said Purvis, ‘it’s a bit too…’
‘Sandy?’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Possibly,’ said Purvis. ‘It needs a little something more, somehow.’
‘Shells,’ said a voice, and everyone jumped. It was the donkey, Elizabeth, with a paper bag full of shells.
‘To decorate the sides with,’ she explained. ‘I’ve seen people do it, before.’
‘Elizabeth!’ said Purvis. ‘They’re just what we need!’
So the mice and Allen carefully decorated the sandcastle with shells while Ortrud and Elizabeth stood next to each other and watched.
They’d just finished when a large grey cloud floated in front of the sun.
‘Poor Howard,’ said Purvis, shivering.
‘What’s Howard?’ asked Elizabeth.
‘Not a what, a who,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Bless you,’ said Elizabeth.
‘Why?’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘What?’ said Elizabeth.
‘No, not a what,’ said Mickey Thompson. ‘He’s a him.’
‘A person,’ said Purvis.
‘And why poor?’ said Elizabeth. ‘Poor why?’
‘Oh,’ said Mickey Thompson, ‘Mr Bullerton.’ He made a face and gesticulated.
‘Howard’s boss,’ explained Purvis.
‘I see,’ said Elizabeth.
‘And he really needed a holiday.
He’ll have missed it all by the time he gets out.’
‘At least he had a little paddle in that stream,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘That doesn’t really count,’ said Purvis.
‘I wish I had a camera,’ said Allen. ‘Then I’d take a photo of the sandcastle, and give it to him.’
‘We could do a drawing and give him that,’ suggested Mickey Thompson, ‘… or… or… a collage, with real sand stuck on.’
‘Um, err…’ said Allen.
‘What’s up, Allen?’ asked Purvis.
‘I’m a little bit worried the sand’ll fall off,’ said Allen.
‘Oh,’ said Mickey Thompson, crestfallen.
‘But wait,’ said Purvis, hopping about. ‘We could take the real, actual, real sandcastle up to the room and give him that: all of it! Then he’ll get the full effect.’
‘Shall I fetch the trolley?’ asked Mickey Thompson. ‘We can put it in, and push it up.’
‘Err, um…’ said Allen.
‘What is it, Allen?’ asked Purvis.
‘I’m a little bit worried the sand’ll fall through,’ said Allen.
‘Oh,’ said Purvis and Mickey Thompson together.
‘A-hem,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Wheelbarrow. This way.’
They followed Elizabeth up the beach and into a stableyard, where there was a large wheelbarrow.
‘It’s full of stuff,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Not any more,’ said Elizabeth, tipping it.
So they trundled the barrow back to the sandcastle, took the shells off, loaded the sand in, put the shells on and trundled into the hotel, where Mr Bullerton was talking to the receptionist.
They trundled out again, quickly.
‘Whoops,‘ said Mickey Thompson.
‘I’ve forgotten my shirt,’ wailed Allen.
‘You’d better hide under the sand,’ said Purvis.
‘What about the little elephant?’ asked Elizabeth.
‘It seems to be only dogs they mind,’ explained Mickey Thompson.
So they took everything out of the wheelbarrow, helped Allen in and put everything back on top of him.
‘Comfy, Allen?’ asked Purvis.
‘Gg cchh gggg,’ said Allen, muffledly.
‘What did he say?’ asked Mickey Thompson.
‘Not sure,’ said Purvis.
Allen’s nose appeared.
‘That’s better,’ he said.
‘Try and keep rather still, Allen,’ said Mickey Thompson, scooping sand back into the barrow.
Purvis peeped into the hotel.
‘We’re in luck. They’ve gone.’
‘Shall I get out then?’ asked Allen.
‘Best stay in,’ said Purvis, ‘to be on the safe side. Let’s go QUICK, before they come back.’
They trundled unsteadily across the foyer and arrived at the lift.
‘Afternoon there, Elizabeth,’ said the lift, v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y.
‘Afternoon there,’ said Elizabeth, v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y back.
‘How’s you then, Elizabeth?’ said the lift.
‘Not so bad,’ said Elizabeth.
‘You?’
‘Terrible,’ said the lift.
Purvis and Mickey Thompson exchanged glances.
‘Pulley trouble, is it?’ said Elizabeth.
‘Not half,’ said the lift. ‘They’re not what they used to be, not what they used to be at all.’
‘Are they not?’ said Elizabeth.
‘They are not,’ said the lift.
‘Ah well,’ said Elizabeth.
‘Ah well,’ agreed the lift.
‘Ah well,’ said Elizabeth.
‘Ah well,’ confirmed the lift.
‘Err…’ said Purvis, ‘do you think maybe we ought to… before someone…’
The Clumsies make a Mess of the Seaside
‘Ah. Now,’ said the lift. ‘What’re you doing with all this lot here then, Elizabeth?’
‘Just helping out with a little job,’ said Elizabeth.
‘Oh-ah,’ said the lift. ‘Where to, then?’
‘Sec—’ began Purvis.
‘Where’ll it be?’ said the lift.
‘Sec—’ began Purvis.
‘Oo,’ said the lift, ‘I know how you feel, lovey. I suffer with hiccups myself. I do, don’t I, Elizabeth?’
‘You do,’ said Elizabeth.
‘Not half I do.’
The lift lapsed into silence ……
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‘Err…’ said Purvis.
‘Ah,’ said the lift. ‘Now. Wanting to go somewhere, were you?’
‘Second floor. Please,’ said Purvis.
‘Right you are. Should’ve said,’ said the lift and clunked them—slowly—up to the second floor.
But when they got to the room the door wouldn’t open.
‘That’s funny,’ said Purvis. ‘Howard said he’d leave it unlocked for us.’
‘No problem,’ said Elizabeth.
‘Stand back.’
They stood back, and Elizabeth bashed the door open with her bottom.
‘TRUMPET!’ went Ortrud.
‘YELP!’ went Allen.
‘KER-RASH!!!’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Oh dear,’ said Purvis.
‘S’all yours,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Now you can give him something to knock his socks off.’
Clumsies-On-Sea Part 2
The Clumsies and Elizabeth pushed the wheelbarrow into the room and tipped the shells and the sand and Allen out on to the floor.
‘Um…’ said Allen.
‘Right,’ said Purvis. ‘What we need to do is make the sandcastle look as good as we possibly can. Then the door won’t seem so…’
‘Err…’ said Allen.
‘Unusual?’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Noticeable,’ said Purvis.
‘I’m feeling a little bit Sick ,’ said Allen. ‘It was bumpy in the barrow.’
‘You need a biscuit, Allen,’ said Mickey Thompson, pointing at the biscuit basket.
‘Look, we’ve got new ones.’
‘Yes, please,’ said Allen.
‘Allen needs a biscuit before we start, Purvis,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘OK,’ said Purvis.
‘I expect Ortrud would like one too,’ said Mickey Thompson.
Ortrud TOOTED.
‘OK,’ said Purvis.
‘Err, Purvis,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Ok,’ said Purvis.
The Clumsies Make a Mess of the Seaside Page 3