by Anna Wilson
I waited. By now I was actually a bit struck with awe at Molly’s mega-organizational mood. And I was very glad that she was full of ideas and obviously not feeling as desperational as I was.
‘Option One,’ she said, ‘is that we do not buy everything, which is obviously not an option at all otherwise the party will be completely useless—’
‘BUT—!’ I cried.
Molly interrupted. ‘And Option Two is – we find a Masterly Plan to earn some extra money!’
She clasped her clipboard to her and beamed a big satisfied smile.
‘Huh?’ I said.
Molly frowned. ‘Huh?’ she said. ‘Is that all you can say when I have gone to so much trouble to work all this out for you?’
I said, ‘But you have not worked out anything! We cannot just “earn money” like that.’ I clicked my fingers. ‘We are quite young children, in case you hadn’t noticed. How are we supposed to get a job in real life?’
Molly chewed her lip and looked a tiny bit worried and un-Molly-like for about one nanosecond. And then her eyes twinkled and she said, ‘Aha! We can wear a disguise and pretend we are older than we are and I can fake a letter on my dad’s office notepaper to Employers everywhere to say that we are marvellous at doing jobs, and then they will all employ us and pay us lots of money.’
‘STOP! STOP!’ I shouted, waving my arms in the air. I was now feeling rather un-admiring of my best friend who seemed to be losing the plot ultra-fast. ‘This is just about the craziest of crazy plans you have ever come up with, Molly Cook. In fact, it is even more crazier than my sister’s plan for wearing fake beards around the house when Honey was freaked out by Nick’s beard.’
‘AHA!’ Molly shouted, waving her arms in the air now, and narrowly missing my head with her clipboard. ‘I am glad you reminded me of the beards, Summer! We can use them as part of our disguise.’
‘NOOOOOO!’ I cried. Had the world gone completely insane and Around the Twist all of a sudden? Or was I trapped inside a particularly weirdo and frankly rather nasty which if I didn’t wake up from soon would muck up all the systems of my brain forever?
Molly had her Extremely Cross face on, so I panicked and said, ‘What I mean is, I have a Very Strong Feeling that April got rid of those beards quite a long time ago. Maybe there is another way that we could earn some money . . .’
At that moment Titch stopped jumping around for once and put his paw on my lap. Then he looked up at me with an expression I recognized from my own gorgeous Honey which I think said: when-are-you-going-to-stop-chin-waggling-and-take-me-for-a-walk? In other words he put his head on one side in his most cutesome pose and let out a little whine most pleadingly.
And that is when I had one of those ultra-sonic brainflashes of the kind that make your head go and your face go and your legs go springy with excitement.
‘That’s it!’ I cried, leaping up and dancing around the room, which resulted in Titch becoming very jumpy again indeed. ‘I have got it, By Jove!’ (I have always thought ‘By Jove’ was a rather fantabulous way of expressing excitement.)
Molly was looking rather a bit quizzical, but she did not try to get me to shut up so I carried on: ‘We can earn money AND have fun!’
‘Oh? How’s that then?’ said Molly.
At that point I turned very dramatical and whirled to face her like a superhero in a big cloak (although I was not of course actually wearing one myself at that PRECISE moment) and announced in a ‘taa-daaaaa’-type way of speaking: ‘We can advertise around the neighbourhood to say that we are available to WALK PEOPLE’S DOGS for them before and after school and we can charge them something like one pound a go.’
Molly shook her head violently. I felt my heart go skidding down into my socks so fast I thought I might be sick. How could she not see how utterly brilliant my plan was? Even Mr Titchical was on the exact same length of wave as me. He was bouncing up and putting his paws on Molly’s legs just as if he was trying to convince her of the intelligence and wonderment of my brainflash.
Molly shushed Titch and settled him down and then took what I thought was a whole eternity patting him with a deeply thoughtful look on her face.
Then she turned to me and said, ‘If we are going to do this then we should at least ask for two pounds every time.’
And then she arched one eyebrow at me in a devilish sort of a way and I grinned.
‘Molly Cook, you are an evil genius,’ I said. ‘Two pounds it is.’
he problem with advertising for dog-walking services around the neighbourhood was that I had not realized quite how many dogs there were, or how keen people were NOT to walk their own dogs. Now, you may think that this was not a problem at all, as we were after all quite desperational for money for the party, so surely having lots and lots of pooches to walk would be a truly marvellous thing.
But how exactly are you supposed to manage with your own pooch (who is, frankly, rather a and animal at the very best of times) . . .
. . . and hold on to one Dalmatian, one dachshund, one beagle and one fluffy thing (which might possibly have been a poodle, but if so was quite definitely the hairiest, whitest, one of its kind that I have ever seen in real life or even in a book) all at the same time?
I can tell you that it was a Sight to Behold: me with five different leads and five different poochicals, all pulling and running in different directions, some of them wanting to race each other and some of them wanting to chase each other and some of them wanting to sniff each other’s bottoms and some of them (especially the poodley one) trying to get as far away from the others as is doggedly possible.
Of course, you may well ask, ‘Why on earth did you not give a couple of these canine creatures to your Bestest Friend, Molly Cook, to look after?’ Well, I will tell you why, dear reader. Because SHE WAS HOLDING ON TO FIVE OTHER POOCHES, THAT’S WHY!!!
‘Summer!’ Molly squealed, as a greyhound, a wolfhound, a foxhound, a cocker spaniel and a springer spaniel pulled her arms in five different directions, wound their leads around her legs and sent her flying along the pavement at fifty miles an hour. ‘I think this is possibly the most daftest idea you have ever had in the history of the world’s most daftest ideas!’
It was not a nice thing to say, but I have to say that I agreed with her.
We just about managed to get our pooches to the park without any disasters (unless you count all ten of them pooping on the pavement in Quick Succession, meaning that all our poop bags were used up before we had even got to the end of our road), then we opened the park gate and let them off the lead so that they could have a good run around and .
It was just as the greyhound went zooming into the bushes way over in the furthest corner of the park that I thought to myself, ‘I wonder if that dog is as well-trained as Honey, because if it is not, we will never get it back, and then I will have to buy the owner a new dog, and that will mean that I will have Zero Money and I really will have to leave school and get a job.’
Just as the panic was beginning to rise right up inside me, a familiar voice broke into my nightmarish thoughts with the words:
‘Hi, Summer. You look as though you’ve lost something.’
Typical. It was the one and only know-it-all boy, Frank Gritter, who even though he can make me laugh with his sense of humour, can be especially annoying when it comes to him making out that he is a vastly more intelligenter and Superior Being to me, a Mere Girl. In other words, he was totally and completely not the person I was wanting to come across in the park on the very day that I had decided to take five dogs for a walk and then lose them all in the bushes.
He had his lovely dog Meatball with him which was something, I suppose. She was always all right even when Frank was not.
‘So, have you? Lost something, I mean?’ Frank said. He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned cheekily in that way which always seems to have the effect of making me smile even when I am In A Deep Dark Mood and really want to Take It Out on someone, i.e. Frank.
&n
bsp; ‘Yes, well, I suppose in a way I sort of have,’ I said.
‘Then why are you smiling?’ Frank asked, in a teasing fashion.
I bit in the sides of my cheeks. ‘You know why, Frank Gritter! It is because of your ridiculous caterpillar-like eyebrows. Stop it!’ I demanded, as he began wiggling them so much I thought they might at some point fly off his actual head. ‘I am actually in the middle of a Very Serious Situation of a Lost and Found nature and if you were really my friend you would leave me alone and not get in the way by acting in such a clownishly unhelpful manner!’ I was trying to sound serious and to make myself frown, but sadly it was not working.
Frank bit in the sides of his cheeks and also frowned in an attempt to look serious. ‘When did you last see the suspect?’ he asked, in a detectiveish way, one hand stroking his chin thoughtfully, the other propping it up across his body in a Rather Ridiculous Pose.
‘There is no suspect!’ I howled. I had totally given in to the giggling now.
‘Excuse me, Summer.’
Oh dearie goodness me, it was Molly and she was going to want to know why I was having a hilarious giggling fit when I should have been Controlling My Dogs.
‘Why exactly are you having a hilarious giggling fit when you should be Controlling Your Dogs?’ she asked.
I glanced in the direction of the bushes in time to see ten tails disappear into the undergrowth.
Molly’s face was what her mum would call A Picture, which is a way of saying that she was such a with steam almost literally spurting out of her nostrils like an annoyed dragon, that Frank and I could not help ourselves. We exchanged a look that said Ooooh-look-who’s-being-a-bossy-boots, and then we simply DISSOLVED.
Molly huffed and said, ‘Well, I am glad you find this whole Palaver so over-the-top hysterical, but I personally think it is rather anxious-making that between us, we have lost TEN dogs.’
At that point, my own gorgeous poochical came racing towards us out of nowhere and practically bowled us over in her enthusiasm to say ‘hello’ to Meatball.
The two Labradors chased each other round and round and Honey jumped on top of Meatball and put her paws around her as if she was really giving her a cuddle.
It was actually quite cute to look at, and made me think about family, and then and I remembered why I was supposed to be looking after all these other dogs in the first place and I said above the racket of the barking and the shouting and the general HULLABALOO: ‘Listen! We have to get the situation Under Control.’
‘You don’t say!’ Molly muttered between extremely gritted teeth.
‘Well, I could help?’ said Frank.
‘WHAT?’ Molly and I said in UNISON.
I was not believing what I was hearing with my own ears: Frank Gritter was offering to help us out of his own kindness and the freedom of his own will?
‘Yeah, course I’ll help,’ he said, his face all smooth with innocence. Then, just as I thought I might actually faint from the shock of this moment, his eyes went glinty and his mouth twisted into a menacing smile and he added: ‘For a small fee.’
‘HUMPF!’ I cried, and crossed my arms very violently in front of my chest. I was no longer feeling very giggly or amused.
‘HUMPF indeed!’ Molly added, doing the same. ‘Come on, Summer. We do not need the help of a stinky boy who is only interested in taking money away from us. We can do this on our own.’
‘This I have to see,’ said Frank, his menacing smile growing more eviller by the minute.
Molly had run off in the direction of the bushes and was shouting all the dogs’ names and frantically waving her arms.
Frank looked at me and shrugged. ‘As I say, I’m willing to help, but it’ll cost you.’
‘No Way, Ho-Zay!’ I protested.
‘OK, well, better be off then,’ Frank said, turning away from me.
ARGH! This was becoming a total nightmare. ‘Wait!’ I cried. ‘Come back!’
Frank turned round slowly and said, ‘So, how’s about we call it a fiver if I get the dogs for you?’
I closed my eyes and breathed in and out a bit to force myself to sound in control. Then I opened my eyes and said calmly, ‘Well, much as I would like your help, Frank Gritter, I cannot possibly pay you that much as I happen to have enough money worries as it is.’ Then I turned away from him very ABRUPTLY, in other words fast, because a lump had inconveniently appeared in my throat and I was in danger of letting a tear or two spill out of my eyes. Everything was going about as wrong as it could go.
And it was about to go wronger, I thought, as Meatball and Honey had decided to follow Molly into the bushes.
I whirled round and shouted, ‘Honey – NO!’
Too late. The pooches had whizzed off at the speed of light. I walked right up to Frank and fixed him with my scariest look. I knew I probably was behaving like a raving loony, my eyes streaky and leaky, my face bright red and blotchy (which always happens when I’m upset and which never looks good with my shade of auburn hair). But things had got too serious to worry about any of that.
‘Are you going to help or not?’ I almost screamed.
Frank looked a tiny bit astounded, but then he raised his eyes to the skies and then spent a lot of time examining his nails and making quite a huge deal out of waiting patiently to see what would happen next.
What happened next was that Molly came running back from the bushes, her hair all sticky-uppy and her face red and sweaty and her eyebrows cross and frowny. ‘OK,’ she said, through teeth that were clenched so hard together they might have actually cracked a bit. ‘If you are such a fantabulous dog-trainer-type-person and know-it-all boy, why don’t you get them all back, Frank Gritter?’
I held my breath.
‘My pleasure,’ he said, grinning his rather grubby face off.
And he put two fingers into his mouth and Let Forth the most I have ever heard in my entire life. And, let me tell you, I have heard quite a few whistles since being a dog-owner-type person, because you often hear people in the park whistling to their dogs. But this was a whistle which I think you could probably describe as being In A League Of Its Own. It was the kind of whistle which those shepherd-types use when they are rounding up their sheep with their highly trained sheepdogs.
Fortunately the bunch of highly untrained dogs we were in charge of were quite obviously impressed by Frank’s amazing whistle too, as they all came running at once and charging towards us. Unfortunately it did also have the rather undesirous effect of making quite a few other dogs come running towards us as well.
It was actually a huge KERFUFFLE and we did get a bit trampled on by all the dogs chasing each other and us and barking and jumping up. But in the kerfuffle I was able to grab a couple of collars and I shouted at Frank and Molly to do the same and in the end we did manage at least to get leads on collars and then we looked at each other and shouted ‘RUN!’ and we ran outside the park and slammed the gate on the other dogs.
I can safely say that I have never been so exhaustified in my life.
Once we had rounded up all the dogs and returned them to their owners, even Molly had to admit that she was impressed with Frank’s whistling TECHNIQUE.
‘What did you think you were doing with so many dogs at once?’ he asked. ‘Were you trying to round up more guests for the Pooch Party, or something?’
‘No, of course not!’ Molly said. ‘We were doing it for the cash.’ She showed him the twenty pounds we had earned that day.
‘Molly!’ I protested. If Frank saw all that cash, he would start going on about his ‘fee’ again.
But he didn’t. He just gave us a puzzled look.
Molly said, ‘You explain, Summer.’
So I did.
‘And so you see we DO need this dog-walking business to work because we really need the cash for the party, which is why we cannot pay you to help with the dogs,’ I added with great emphasis.
‘OK, I can see your problem. So forget the fee,’ Frank said, s
miling in a kind and totally non-evil way.
I peered at him closely to see if he was joking. But no, he did not suddenly burst into hysterical mean laughter and point and me and say, ‘Got you there, Summer! You are soooo owned!’
He simply stood there, looking back at me and waiting to see what I would say.
‘Er, thank you?’ I said, still waiting for him to laugh.
‘You’re welcome,’ said Frank, grinning.
Molly was not so Gracious about Frank’s kind, if slightly baffling offer. ‘What are you up to, Frank Gritter?’ she asked, looking at him WITHERINGLY.
‘Nuffin’. I juswannidta help, thass all,’ Frank muttered in his unintelligible boy-speak. I noticed he’d gone a bit pink about the ears.
‘Sorry?’ said Molly. ‘Is my brain deceiving me by sending me false and untrue messages of a confusing nature? Did you say you wanted to help us AND you didn’t want to be paid?’
Frank rolled his eyes to the high heavens and then said, ‘How about this for a compromise? I help you, and you invite me and Meatball to the party?’
Not even Molly could argue with that, especially as Meatball had already been on the list right from the start. But Frank didn’t need to know that.
Molly had a lot to argue about once Frank was gone, however.
‘I REALLY do not want him to get involved in running this party,’ she fumed. ‘It is All Very Well for him to help walk the dogs and come along on the day, but I do not want him sticking his big nose into our plans.’
I thought this was what Molly’s mum would call a ‘bit rich’ (in other words quite cheeky) coming from Molly as Frank had totally got us out of a tight spot of trouble AND it was not even her actual party, but I thought I should just agree for the sake of a bit of peace and quiet so I said, ‘Yes,’ with a heavy sigh. ‘It is rather annoying that we have to RESORT to asking him to help, but I think it is the only Option Two that we have available to us. Unless you have another Option Two about how we can raise enough money that does not involve walking hundreds of dogs on our own?’ I added, sort of hopefully, but sort of not, as it was quite obvious to me that Frank would actually be a very good Addition to our plan.