There's A Pharaoh In Our Bath!

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There's A Pharaoh In Our Bath! Page 4

by Jeremy Strong


  Finally, the van stopped outside the Lightspeeds’ house. The moped screeched to a halt at a safe distance. Professor Jelly wrestled angrily with Grimstone’s back and the moped before he managed to disentangle himself from the seat. He went stomping off down the road to find his hat. By the time he got back, Grimstone was once more stuck behind his newspaper. ‘He’s just gone into Number 27,’ he hissed.

  Professor Jelly plonked himself back on the moped and sulkily asked if Grimstone had seen Sennapod yet. Grimstone eyed his partner. ‘No, but you’ve smudged your lipstick. It looks as if someone has whacked you in the mouth.’

  ‘I hate this game!’ Professor Jelly stamped one shoe angrily and the heel slid between the slats of a drain cover. It stuck fast. He tugged on his leg, but it was well and truly jammed, so he gave an almighty heave. The heel broke off, sending him toppling backwards off the moped. Professor Jelly fell in the road and his blonde wig fell in the gutter. He grabbed it quickly and pulled it back on to his head, only to discover that he now had half a mouldy banana skin squashed between the wig and his bald skull. He was about to scream with one hundred per cent frustration, when Grimstone stiffened and pointed a finger through the hole in the paper. ‘Look, look!’

  The door of Number 27 had opened, and there was the Pharaoh himself. Sennapod stood in his robe and crown and beard, gazing majestically up and down Templeton Terrace. He looked every inch a king of Ancient Egypt. He slowly bent down, picked up two bottles of milk from the doorstep and disappeared back indoors.

  ‘Bingo!’ cried Grimstone. ‘We’ve found him. The treasure is as good as ours now!’

  ‘Does that mean we can go home?’ asked Professor Jelly, and in answer to this Grimstone started up the moped and they set off once more.

  ‘What do we do next?’ shouted the professor, clinging to his hat and wig. ‘We can’t just go in there and kidnap him.’

  Grimstone chuckled quietly. ‘Of course we can’t. I have a much better plan. We are going to get Sennapod to come right back to the museum itself, when nobody else is around. And once he’s there, he’ll be ours and we can do what we like with him. We shall not only get the treasure map, we’ll have a real Pharaoh. Imagine the money we can make, showing him to the public!’

  ‘But how on earth will you get him to come back?’ demanded the professor.

  ‘Easy as pie. This is what we’ll do…’

  9 All About Tiddles

  The last person to expect a postcard the following morning was Sennapod. After all, he had died over four thousand years earlier and had never left a forwarding address. He was very pleased to get a postcard, because it took everyone’s attention away from the toaster in the kitchen.

  Sennapod was very impressed with the toaster. You put in cold bread and it popped up a little later, all hot and toasty. Sennapod’s early morning cup of tea had gone cold, so he thought he’d warm that up and he poured it into the toaster. There was an almighty BANG! a cloud of acrid smoke and all the lights went out.

  ‘Well done,’ said Carrie icily.

  For the first time, even the Pharaoh seemed a bit embarrassed. He frowned angrily at the toaster and pointed an accusing finger. ‘Worm!’

  Ben groaned. ‘You can’t call a toaster a worm,’ he said, and it was at this point that the post arrived. Everyone admired the picture, which showed the Great Pyramid of Cheops, although Sennapod complained that it looked very tatty now.

  ‘What does the card say?’ asked Carrie nosily, and the Pharaoh turned it over. On the back, to their astonishment, was a message scrawled in hieroglyphs. Sennapod scowled as he read.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Mr Lightspeed. ‘It’s not about double glazing, is it?’

  ‘Spelling mistakes,’ growled the Pharaoh, but then he gave a strangled cry. ‘They’ve got my cat!’ The Lightspeeds looked at each other. Sennapod was certainly full of surprises.

  ‘I didn’t know you had a cat,’ said Ben.

  ‘His name is Crusher of Worms.’

  ‘Crusher of Worms!’ Carrie was disgusted. ‘You can’t call a cat Crusher of Worms!’

  Sennapod turned on her. ‘Do you argue with everyone? Crusher of Worms is his royal name. I usually call him Tiddles.’

  Mr Lightspeed turned the card over in his hands. ‘But who’s got your cat, and why is it so important? Is there something you haven’t told us?’

  Sennapod looked at each Lightspeed in turn, thinking hard. They were the only people he knew in this strange world, the only people he felt he might be able to trust.

  ‘The Pharaoh is always buried with great treasure. Mine was hidden near by…’

  ‘Wow – like Tutankhamun!’ said Ben.

  ‘Do not interrupt when the Pharaoh is speaking! The royal graves have always been plundered by grave-robbers. It was decided to hide my treasure horde and leave a secret map with my body, so that the gods would know where to look.’

  ‘Wow – a treasure map!’ cried Ben, making Carrie wince.

  ‘Do you think you could stop shouting “wow”? You’re beginning to sound like a fire engine on red alert.’

  Mrs Lightspeed sat Sennapod down. He’d had quite a shock, though whether it was the postcard or the toaster was difficult to tell. ‘So the men who sent this card want to exchange Tiddles for the map?’ Sennapod nodded. Mrs Lightspeed shrugged. ‘I don’t see what all the fuss is about. You keep the map and let them keep the cat. After all, it is only a cat.’

  Sennapod erupted from his chair. ‘Only a cat!’ he roared. ‘The royal cat! My cat! A god – like me! Tiddles is sacred. Do you know what happens to those who dare harm a cat?’ The Lightspeeds huddled together, staring at the furious Pharaoh.

  ‘Death!’ spat Sennapod.

  A ghastly silence fell upon the room.

  Ben cleared his throat. ‘You’d like Tiddles back, then?’

  ‘It must be done,’ growled the Pharaoh. ‘My cat is sacred to me, to the gods and the people of Egypt.’ He sat down heavily and held his head in his hands. Rustbucket prowled the room, as if she expected to find tomb-robbers behind every armchair. Mr Lightspeed gently patted the Pharaoh’s shoulder.

  ‘Don’t worry. We’ll get Tiddles back. Now, where is he?’

  ‘At the museum,’ said Sennapod, glancing at the card.

  Suddenly, it all began to fall into place. ‘The museum,’ said Mr Lightspeed. ‘Is that where you came from? I was near there when I found you. Of course! They’ve got a big Ancient Egyptian collection. Something odd is going on.’ The family crowded round the table, encouraging Sennapod.

  ‘I must go to the museum,’ he insisted.

  ‘We’ll come with you,’ said Mrs Lightspeed.

  ‘Great!’ Ben dashed off to get his jacket.

  ‘Not you two,’ said his mother. ‘You stay here, just in case. And it’s no good arguing, so don’t start. Dad and I will go with Sennapod and get Tiddles back.’

  The three adults went to the door. Mr and Mrs Lightspeed put on their coats and Sennapod put on his crown. ‘You are kind to help me,’ he said. ‘Maybe, maybe…’

  ‘Yes?’ prompted Mrs Lightspeed with a tiny smile.

  ‘Maybe you are… baboons,’ he offered.

  ‘Baboons?’ chorused Mr and Mrs Lightspeed.

  ‘It’s better than worms or mice,’ Sennapod quickly pointed out, as they hurried up the road towards the museum. Rustbucket followed, close on Sennapod’s heels, and as they marched up the road they were joined by more and more cats, padding silently, unobserved by Mr and Mrs Lightspeed.

  Ben and Carrie stood by the front door. ‘Will they be OK?’ Carrie asked. Ben pulled on his jacket.

  ‘There’s only one way to find out,’ he said. ‘We’ll follow them without them ever knowing. Come on!’

  10 Trapped!

  ‘There are three of them!’ panicked Professor Jelly, peering out through the museum windows. ‘And they’ve got an army of cats with them!’

  ‘Cats?’ snarled Grimstone. ‘What use are they
? I don’t care if they’ve brought their guinea-pigs and goldfish with them. We’re going to get that treasure, Jelly! Sennapod’s the one we want. I shall have to get rid of Mr and Mrs Freezee.’

  Grimstone’s eyes raced around the deserted room until his wicked gaze fell upon the display of old-fashioned weapons. Taking pride of place was a massive blunderbuss, whose long barrel opened out like the mouth of a great trombone. Grimstone seized the antiquated weapon and the little pouch of gunpowder beside it. He looked for ammunition, but couldn’t find anything suitable. Never mind, those stupid Lightspeeds would never know the gun wasn’t loaded!

  ‘We’ve got to fix those other two,’ shouted Grimstone. ‘I have a nice little surprise planned for them. Tell Sennapod I’ll be waiting in the store-room.’ Grimstone vanished with the blunderbuss.

  As Sennapod and the Lightspeeds came through the revolving doors, Professor Jelly stepped out of the shadows to welcome his victims. He tried to force a cheery smile, even though his insides had tied themselves into tiny, nervous knots. ‘Well, well, we meet again!’ he simpered.

  ‘You!’ cried Mr Lightspeed, recognizing Jelly at once.

  ‘Yes – me!’ Jelly squeaked, as if even he was surprised to find himself in such a situation. He was about to say more, but was cut short by Sennapod.

  ‘Where is Crusher of Worms, you piece of maggot-flesh? Give him to me at once!’

  ‘Oh, you are in a hurry,’ teased the professor. ‘I don’t know why – you seem to have plenty of cats of your own.’

  Sennapod and his two bodyguards looked behind for the first time. ‘Great heavens!’ cried Mr Lightspeed. ‘Where did they come from? There must be dozens of them.’

  The Pharaoh smiled grimly. ‘I am their true master. They follow me. They are my slaves, like both of you.’ Rustbucket pushed her head against his leg as he spoke. He turned back to Jelly. ‘Where is Crusher of Worms?’ he repeated.

  ‘Where is the map?’ giggled Jelly, trying to sound ruthless, but behaving more like a piece of damp cotton wool. Sennapod pulled a parchment from inside his robe and held it up. ‘I must have my cat first, and may the treasure bring you nothing but unhappiness and disaster, you son of a scorpion; grandson of a three-legged camel; father of a million house-flies; daughter of a centipede, mother of a six-humped…’

  ‘I think you’re getting a bit muddled,’ whispered Mr Lightspeed, and they followed Professor Jelly down to the store-room.

  A musty smell filled the grey air. It was a big room, piled high with empty mummy-cases, old statues, paintings, pottery, masks and costumes and all-sorts. As soon as they entered the room, Grimstone leaped out behind them, waving the blunderbuss dangerously and slamming the door shut. Rustbucket and her army of cats were left scratching helplessly on the far side of the door.

  ‘Lady and gentlemen!’ cried Grimstone with a crazy leer. ‘We really did not expect three of you. How unfair! And all those cats! But never mind, I do believe we can sort things out.’ He waved the gun at the Lightspeeds. ‘Jelly, we shall have to get these two out of the way. You fetch those old bandages and wrap up Mr Freezee, nice and tight. Sennapod here can wrap his missus.’ Grimstone pointed at a big pile of bandages left over from earlier mummy-investigations.

  Sennapod stiffened. ‘I shall not do it,’ he said snootily.

  ‘Oh yes you will. If you don’t, I’ll shoot them both,’ said Grimstone simply. Mrs Lightspeed went very pale.

  ‘You’d better do it,’ she said quietly to the Pharaoh.

  ‘What a sensible woman!’ laughed Grimstone. ‘I have never met such a sensible woman!’

  ‘That’s probably because no sensible woman would ever go near you,’ Mrs Lightspeed managed to say before she disappeared beneath a swathe of ancient bandages. Their mouths were covered so they couldn’t shout for help. Their arms were pinioned against their bodies. Only their eyes peeped out helplessly.

  Grimstone found it all hilarious. ‘I’m so clever, Jelly! And I’ve just had a wonderful thought. I know exactly where to keep these two mummies safe and sound. Open the coffins!’ The old mummy-cases were thrown open and Mr and Mrs Lightspeed bundled inside. The lids were slammed shut.

  ‘There!’ cried Grimstone, turning to the Pharaoh and levelling the old blunderbuss at his ancient heart. ‘Now, let’s have that treasure map.’

  11 Ye Gods!

  Grimstone and Jelly were so busy playing about with mummy-cases and bandages that they didn’t notice the store-room door quietly inch open. Ben and Carrie peeped round the edge, with Rustbucket pushing her small head between them. The two children crawled silently into the room and hid behind a pile of packing-cases. One by one, the cats followed and spread themselves around.

  Ben’s heart was thundering away like a talking-drum, beating out an urgent message. He could almost hear it saying ‘Help! What are we going to do? Help! What are we going to do?’ over and over again. Carrie must have heard it too.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ she echoed. ‘He’s got a gun!’

  ‘Tell me about it!’ hissed Ben. ‘We can’t just sit here and do nothing.’ He glanced at the packing-cases. Some were lying on their sides. They were stuffed with paper and straw, and inside were several masks of the Ancient Egyptian Gods.

  Ben grinned and quietly pulled out a very impressive head of Sebek, the crocodile-god. He passed it to Carrie and she put it on.

  ‘Big improvement!’ he muttered. ‘It suits you.’ Next he pulled out the falcon-headed god, Horus. ‘This will do me nicely,’ he whispered and promptly crawled off to the far end of the store-room. His heart was pounding even harder and all it seemed to shout now was ‘Help! Help! Help! Help!’ Ben struggled to overcome his fear. This was their only chance. He cleared his throat and stood up.

  ‘I am the God Horus!’ cried Ben, feeling his knees trembling. ‘Throw down your weapon. It is useless to resist!’

  ‘Horus!’ Sennapod was overjoyed. ‘You have come to my aid!’

  Grimstone and Jelly stared stupefied at the god. ‘What is it?’ asked Jelly hoarsely.

  ‘Don’t panic,’ warned Grimstone, his eyes flitting back to the parchment in Sennapod’s wrinkled hand. ‘Give me the map!’ he commanded, but a cry from behind made them whirl round.

  ‘I am Sebek, the crocodile-god!’ yelled Carrie, hoping she sounded as fierce as she looked. ‘Release your prisoners or I will chew you up and spit out your bones like–um – grape pips.’ She grinned to herself. She liked that bit about the grape pips.

  Professor Jelly went to pieces. ‘The gods are attacking us!’ he screamed. ‘It’s The Curse of Anubis! We should never have opened the coffin!’ Grimstone grabbed Jelly’s arm.

  ‘Get a grip on yourself, you fool. Find me some ammunition for this gun, quick!’ He poured gunpowder down the huge barrel, while Jelly frantically searched for something suitable, but all he could find in his pockets were handfuls of chocolates. He threw them down the barrel.

  ‘Stand back!’ yelled Grimstone, wildly aiming the gun at Sebek. There was an enormous bang, smoke puffed grandly from the blunderbuss and the crocodile hastily ducked as a swarm of gaily wrapped chocolates buzzed angrily overhead.

  ‘Yee-hah!’ cried Grimstone, rapidly reloading. ‘Death to the gods!’ He spun round like a gunslinger, grinning madly. ‘Eat chocolates, sucker!’ he bellowed and fired at Horus. Thirty-eight chocolates peppered the wall behind Ben’s head. The soft-centred ones made a very satisfying SPLAT noise, and stuck there.

  For a short while, it seemed that Grimstone was back in charge, but he had forgotten about Sennapod, Rustbucket and the forty cats. The Pharaoh threw open the mummy-cases and by the time Grimstone and Jelly saw what he was up to, it was too late.

  Out of the coffins stepped Mr and Mrs Lightspeed, half bandaged but able to stagger about. They came stumbling towards the two would-be robbers. From either end of the store-room came Sebek and Horus. Sennapod was rather startled to see that Horus was a lot shorter than he expected and was wearing
Ben’s jeans and trainers. From all sides, cats stuck out their angry heads, fur on end, tails flicking and tiny teeth glinting.

  ‘Run for it!’ yelled Grimstone, throwing his gun to the ground. The two men made for the door, hotly pursued by one Ancient Egyptian Pharaoh, two not-so-ancient Egyptian gods, two mummies (or one mummy and one daddy), and forty-one cats.

  The thieves didn’t get far. Rustbucket quickly put herself in their path and they both tripped and fell in a sprawling, whining heap. Sennapod, who had armed himself with the blunderbuss, strode over and glared down at them. He was quickly joined by all the Lightspeeds, and they spoke as one.

  ‘Worms!’ they chorused.

  12 Humans at Last?

  Carrie and Ben threw off their masks and gave a whoop of triumph. They pulled the bandages from their parents, and there were hugs all round. In the middle of this, the forty cats moved silently to the sides of the room, forming a sort of guard of honour. Rustbucket trotted up between them, tail in the air, leading the most beautiful cat the Lightspeeds had ever set eyes on. His coat was a deep blue-black and he wore a gold ear-ring in one ear. His face was slender, elegant and aristocratic. He regarded everything and everyone with two imperious green eyes.

  ‘Tiddles!’ cried a rapturous Pharaoh, and the four-thousand-year-old moggy leaped into his master’s arms. A monstrous purr filled the room. When, at length, the Lightspeeds were able to tear their eyes away from Crusher of Worms, they noticed that all the other cats had quietly disappeared – all except Rustbucket.

 

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