by Michael Bond
“Thank goodness for that,” murmured Mr Brown.
“It is for the inhabitants of the Home for Retired Bears in Lima,” explained Fernando. “Most of them have no idea whata da hurdle race is, let alone set eyes ona da moving picture. Over them… under them… who is to care? It is all the same. And after all, they are paying for it. To them it will be a moment of great excitement that will last for the rest of their lives.”
He turned to Mrs Brown.
“Señora, you will remember the first time a moving picture was shown in Paris. Those neara da screen ran for cover when a train appeared and headed straight towards them. They thought their end hada da come.”
“I’m afraid I don’t,” said Mrs Brown. “It was before my time.”
“1895,” said Jonathan knowledgeably. “It was an early Lumière Brothers film.”
Fernando looked at him. “You should goa da far,” he said.
“What bothers me, Paddington,” broke in Mr Brown hastily, “meaning no disrespect, but what made Sunny Climes think you were such an athlete in the first place? I mean, talk about getting hold of the wrong end of the stick, but doing something like a mile and a half in under four minutes beggars belief.”
“I meant to tell him, I was in your car at the time, Mr Brown,” said Paddington. “We were going to meet Jonathan at the station. But then I thought you might be in trouble for going so fast, and I didn’t want you to be arrested, so I kept it to myself.”
“How about the one hundred metres in five seconds?” asked Jonathan.
“If the buns are just out of the oven,” said Paddington simply, “you need to do it as fast as you can. Especially if you’ve only got paws.”
“You know something,” said Fernando, breaking the silence that followed. “That bear, his head is what you might call screwed on a righta da way. It has been a da pleasure working with him!”
“There you are, Paddington,” said Mrs Bird. “I told you so.”
“I’m sorry the film isa no longer,” said Fernando, “but as you say in your country, ‘good things come ina da small parcels’.”
“It may be a small film to you,” said Mr Brown, “but I must say it’s a big relief to all of us.”
“I give you the disc asa da present to remember me by,” said Fernando.
Brushing aside all offers of refreshment, he left as smoothly as he had arrived. First he reached for Mrs Bird’s hand in order to bestow a kiss, then he bowed to the rest of the family.
Mrs Bird drew the curtains and the Browns gathered by the window to watch as Paddington accompanied Fernando to the gate. They doffed their hats to each other as they said a final goodbye. At which point Fernando presented Paddington with the peacock’s feather from his hat, and with a final wave he went on his way.
Paddington responded, and then instead of entering the house by the front door, he disappeared down the side.
“Now where’s he going?” said Mr Brown.
“Quick,” said Judy. “After him!”
Led by Jonathan, they all rushed out into the back garden through the kitchen door, but Paddington had beaten them to it. He was sitting on one of the stones in his rockery looking up at the sunflowers.
“Well,” said Jonathan. “Any more films in the offing?”
“I don’t know,” said Paddington. “Mr Fernando said I wasn’t to ring him, he would ring me.”
“But…” began Mr Brown. He was about to say that was what all film producers said when the answer was ‘no’, but Paddington didn’t give him the chance.
“I don’t think I would like to be a film star,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to leave Windsor Gardens. I think it’s the nicest place in all the world.”
As the Browns gave a collected sigh of relief Mrs Bird reached for her handkerchief. “I do like films that have a happy ending,” she said, dabbing at her eyes. “Why don’t we go indoors and see yours all over again.”
Paddington jumped to his feet. “Let me do it, Mrs Bird,” he exclaimed. “Bears are good at pressing buttons.”
The Browns exchanged glances. “Goodness knows what we shall see now,” said Mr Brown. “You know what Paddington’s like with buttons.”
Mrs Brown gave his arm a squeeze. “To tell you the truth, Henry,” she said. “I’m so relieved I really don’t mind what it is.”
About the Author
Michael Bond began writing the stories about a bear called Paddington in 1958 while working as a cameraman for BBC television. They are loved the world over and have been translated into more than 30 languages. The 50th anniversary novel Paddington Here and Now was shortlisted for the Roald Dahl Funny Prize.
In 1997 Michael was awarded the OBE for services to children’s literature, and in 2007 he received the honorary degree of Doctor of Letters from Reading University. He lives in London with his wife Sue, a guinea pig named Olga da Polga and her son Vladimir.
Peggy Fortnum, the original Paddington artist, created the cover illustrations for this novel. She studied at St Martin’s College of Art and worked as an art teacher and textile designer.
R. W. Alley is the current Paddington illustrator. He lives with his wife in Rhode Island, USA.
Other Books by Michael Bond
A Bear Called Paddington
More About Paddington
Paddington Helps Out
Paddington Abroad
Paddington At Large
Paddington Marches On
Paddington At Work
Paddington Goes to Town
Paddington Takes the Air
Paddington on Top
Paddington Takes the Test
Paddington Here and Now
Copyright
First published in hardback in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2012
1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd,
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Text copyright © Michael Bond 2012
Illustrations copyright © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2012
Cover illustration copyright © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd and Peggy Fortnum 1974
SOURCE ISBN: 978-0-00-745884-4
EPub Edition © APRIL 2012 ISBN: 978-0-00-746826-3
The author and illustrator assert the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work.
Cover illustration adapted and coloured by Mark Burgess from the original by Peggy Fortnum
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