‘Why?’ Purvis. ‘What had happened?’
‘She was having some kind of spa treatment beauty thing,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Ortrud?’ said Purvis.
‘No, Bangy de Gamba. Ortrud was in the swimming pool, practising snorkelling. She’d had about ten strawberry tarts, too,’ said Mickey Thompson, sounding put out. ‘She ate them with Bangy, for tea.’
‘Did somebody mention tea?’ said Howard, looming up.
the mice.
‘Nice hat,’ said Howard. ‘I woke up and found you gone. What are you doing? What’s going on?’
‘We need you to carry all this,’ said Mickey Thompson, waving a hand at the pile of stuff. ‘We’re going to fix the plane with it.’
‘There’s an apple core,’ said Howard.
‘Yes, Bangy de Gamba says—’
‘OFF WE GO,’ said Howard, quickly scooping everything into a shopping basket and leading the way through the airport, past all the mess, under the bridge, up the stairs, through the room, down the ramp, into the tunnel and back outside onto the runway where Drummond was patiently waiting.
‘You came back!’ he said, sounding relieved.
‘Of course we did,’ said Purvis. He opened “Advanced Aerodynamics” and turned to chapter 34.
‘First,’ he said, ‘wrap Drummond’s nose cone in Allen’s aeroplane wrapping paper,’ so they wrapped it.
‘Now stick this on the end,’ he said, handing over the football, so they stuck it.
‘Whad id id?’ said Drummond, sounding all bunged up.
‘That,’ said Purvis, loosening it slightly, ‘is a High-performance Proboscis Protector, to protect you from bumps and grazes.’
said Drummond. ‘That sounds impressive.’
‘I know!’ said Purvis. He turned over the page. ‘Next, attach the Rapid Deployment Drag Chute to Drummond’s tail.’
‘The rapid de-whatty what what?’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Here,’ said Purvis, handing over the smart umbrella and the ball of string.
‘Are we expecting rain?’ asked Drummond.
‘No,’ said Purvis. ‘It’s to help with your landings: when the button’s pressed, the umbrella will open and glide you down gently and these,’ he said, rattling the tin of travel sweets, ‘will stop queasiness.’
‘Thank you,’ said Drummond.
‘I’m feeling queasy,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘They’re for Drummond,’ said Purvis.
‘Oh, oh,’ said Mickey Thompson, lying down and clutching his tummy.
‘Let’s all have one, to be on the safe side,’ said Drummond, quickly, so they all did.
‘And now I think we’re ready,’ said Purvis, once they’d eaten their sweets.
‘Wait,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘What?’ said Purvis.
‘I want to spray something gold.’
‘Why?’ said Purvis.
‘So everything’s for Bangy de Gamba. How about the football?’
‘Football?’ said Drummond.
‘It isn’t a football,’ Purvis. ‘It’s a Proboscis Protector.’
‘It looks like a football,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘I don’t want to wear a football,’ said Drummond. ‘I want to look my best for Bangy de Gamba.’
‘Not you as well,’ groaned Purvis, and Mickey Thompson brandished his can.
‘Oh, go on, then,’ said Purvis, so they sprayed the football burnished gold and looped the fairy lights around and around as a finishing touch.
‘Drummond looks
Allen, and everyone agreed that Drummond did.
‘And now,’ said Howard, ‘I think we could all do with a cup of tea,’ and everyone agreed that they could.
‘Oh, could you, indeed,’ said a familiar voice, and the mice and Allen dived under Drummond just in time as Mr Bullerton appeared and grabbed hold of Howard’s arm.
‘Gotcha,’ he said.
‘Me too,’ said the security guard, running up and grabbing hold of Howard’s other arm. ‘I’m handing you in to the airport authorities.’
‘Why?’ said Howard.
‘For not fixing the plane, and for kicking the hat, and for claiming your dog’s a star when he obviously isn’t.’
‘But, but,’ Howard. ‘I have, and I didn’t, and my dog most certainly is a star, thank you very much.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Mr Bullerton. ‘You and your dog are done for this time.’
‘Yikes,’ said Purvis.
‘Oh dear, said Allen.
‘BANGY!’ said Mickey Thompson, as there was a sudden on the runway and Bangy de Gamba’s ride-on electric cart up piled high with Bangy and Ortrud and the heavies and the driver and the pilot. They to a halt and all climbed off.
‘Oh boy,’ said Bangy. ‘This plane looks great! I love his golden schnoz.’
Drummond made a noise and Bangy waved at Mickey Thompson.
‘Hi, Michael!’ she said. ‘Is that a new hat? It really suits you.’
Mickey Thompson made a noise as Mr Bullerton and the security guard stared at Bangy, open-mouthed.
‘And you must be Howard, and Allen,’ said Bangy, going over to them. ‘Michael’s told me so much about you.’ She gave Howard a kiss on the cheek and patted Allen’s head, and they both gurgled too.
‘Your little elephant’s been taking care of me,’ Bangy told Howard.
‘Elephant?’ sniggered Mr Bullerton. ‘What elephant?’
‘The one I’m about to take on holiday,’ said Bangy, winking at Ortrud. ‘With all her friends, of course.’
Mr Bullerton made a noise.
‘You can’t,’ said the security guard.
‘Try and stop me,’ said Bangy, and she bustled Howard and Allen and Ortrud and the mice up Drummond’s steps.
Mr Bullerton, lunging at Howard and hanging onto his ankle.
said Bangy
said Howard.
‘The doughnuts!’ said Purvis. ‘Quick!’
He shot down the steps, grabbed the box of doughnuts Mickey Thompson had found and shot back up with it. Bangy took one and flung it, and everyone else flung some too.
‘Take that!’ Bangy, as the security guard and Mr Bullerton ran away, covered in custard.
‘Purvis,’ said Bangy, ‘you are one clever cookie.’
Purvis made a noise and went a bright and very pleased pink.
‘And now it’s time we were going,’ said Bangy, so they all climbed into Drummond and settled down comfortably.
Ready?’ said Howard.
‘Ready!’ said the mice.
‘Then let’s out of here, fast,’ said Howard…
And they did.
Copyright
First published in paperback in Great Britain by
HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2012
HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
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Visit us on the web at www.harpercollins.co.uk
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Text copyright © Sorrel Anderson 2012
Illustrations copyright © Nicola Slater 2012
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins ebooks.
ISBN: 978-0-00-743869-3
Epub Edition © JULY 2012 ISBN: 9780007487103
Epub Version 1
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The Clumsies Make a Mess of the Airport Page 4