Chris Riddell, Children’s Laureate 2015–2017, is an accomplished artist and political cartoonist for the Observer. His books have won many awards, including the Kate Greenaway Medal, the Nestlé Children’s Book Prize and the Red House Children’s Book Award. Goth Girl and the Ghost of a Mouse won the Costa Children’s Book Award in 2013.
Also available Ottoline and the Yellow Cat Ottoline Goes to School Ottoline at Sea Goth Girl and the Ghost of a Mouse Goth Girl and the Fete Worse Than Death Goth Girl and the Wuthering Fright
Praise for the Ottoline books ‘Beautifully illustrated’ Guardian ‘Each page is designed with retro elegance’ Sunday Times ‘Delightfully elegant, packed with quirky detail, clever pictorial surprises and visual jokes’ Daily Mail ‘Possibly the most instantly covetable book ever published’ Sunday Telegraph
MACMILLAN CHILDREN’S BOOKS
First published 2016 by Macmillan Children’s Books an imprint of Pan Macmillan 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR Associated companies throughout the world www.panmacmillan.com ISBN 978-1-4472-7792-7 (HB) ISBN 978-1-4472-7793-4 (EBook) Copyright © Chris Riddell 2016 The right of Chris Riddell to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. Typeset by Nigel Hazle This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
For Princess Joanna of Norfolk
Ottoline Brown lived in an apartment in the P. W. HUFFLEDINCK Tower, which looked like a pepper pot so everyone called it the Pepperpot Building.
She lived with her best friend, Mr. Munroe, who was small and hairy and came from a bog in Norway. Ottoline’s parents, Professor and Professor Brown, were Roving Collectors and travelled the world collecting things which they shipped home for Ottoline to take care of. The collection was very big, but Ottoline had lots of help from all sorts of people who came to Apartment 243 every day.
As well as looking after the apartment and its collection, Ottoline and Mr. Munroe had all sorts of adventures together, like the time they foiled a notorious cat burglar . . .
. . . and encountered the ghostly Horse of the Hammersteins . . .
. . . and visited the Abominable Troll of Trondheim, Quite Big Foot.
But whatever they did and wherever they went, Ottoline and Mr. Munroe looked out for each other, because they were best friends and had been for as long as Ottoline could remember.
Ottoline had decided to have a dinner party . . .
. . . and was out and about, planning for it in her notebook:
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That evening at supper Ottoline noticed that the dining-room lampshade collection was getting a little cluttered. She could hardly see Mr. Munroe at the other end of the table because the double-fringed lamp muffler her parents had shipped from Tibet was in the
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way. She knew he was having hot chocolate and porridge though, because that was what he always had. “I think we need to de-clutter before our dinner party,” said Ottoline, taking a thoughtful bite of her melted cheese and tomato crumpet.
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After supper Ottoline went to the walk-in store closet in the hall. She turned the beautifully shined doorknob . . .
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. . . and looked inside.
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“This won’t do at all,” she told Mr. Munroe. Mr. Munroe nodded.
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The next day Ottoline got up early and put on her “tidying-up” clothes. So did Mr. Munroe.
“Right,” said Ottoline, “let’s clear out the store closet and see what we’ve got.” Ottoline stood on tiptoe and reached up as far as she could. She took hold of the highest box. Mr. Munroe took hold of the nearest box and pulled . . .
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“Oh dear,” said Ottoline. “Perhaps we could do with some help.” Just then the doorbell rang. Ottoline went to answer it while Mr. Munroe picked himself up and dusted himself off.
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Ottoline opened the door. It was Pete and Jackie from McBean’s Cleaning Service. “How can we help?” said Pete with a smile.
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Pete and Jackie helped Ottoline unpack the cardboard boxes and sort through everything. Ottoline’s other helpers arrived and joined in.
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Finally, when all the boxes had been opened, Ottoline decided what to do with the things inside . . .
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Ottoline thanked her helpers as they left clutching their cardboard boxes.
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“You can have the string,” Ottoline told Mr. Munroe. “But the rest of it is junk.” Ottoline and Mr. Munroe packed the
There were a few things left over.
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junk in the box and took the elevator down to the lobby.
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In the lobby Ottoline saw someone she didn’t recognize. The girl had fair hair and gloves that didn’t match. She had a friend who was short and hairy and had extremely large feet. The girl reminded Ottoline of someone but she wasn’t sure who. “Her friend looks a little like you except with much bigger feet!” Ottoline laughed. Mr. Munroe didn’t say anything. As Ottoline and Mr. Munroe watched, the girl and her friend left the Pepperpot Building and headed off towards Pettigrew Park and Ornamental Gardens. “I wonder if they’re going to Scoot ’n’ Hoot,” said Ottoline, clutching the cardboard box. Mr. Munroe tapped her on the shoulder with his umbrella. “Yes, we can go there too,” said Ottoline. “After we get rid of this junk.”
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The alley next to the Pepperpot Building had a bin park where bins on wheels were all lined up in a row.
Ottoline was just about to take the lid off bin number thirty-four and put the junk inside when a furry face appeared.
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It was a fox with purple fur. “For me?” it said in a silky smooth voice. “How intriguing.” The Purple Fox took the cardboard box from Ottoline and looked inside. “Why, this is perfect!” he exclaimed as he examined one of the “This Way Up” stickers. Then he paused. “But where are my manners? Do come inside.” “Inside?” said Ottoline uncertainly as the fox held out a paw.
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Ottoline took the Purple Fox’s paw and climbed down inside bin thirty-four. Mr. Munroe followed her. The Purple Fox offered Ottoline a small swivel chair, then pulled up a tartan throw cushion and settled himself down. “I like what you’ve done with the place,” said Ottoline, looking around. “Thank you,” said the Purple Fox, adjusting his monocle. “Everything you see is recycled – it’s amazing what people throw away. Take these stickers, for example. They’re just what I’ve been looking for to wallpaper the extension.” “The extension?” asked Ottoline. “Yes,” said the Purple Fox, “I’ve just knocked through into number thirty-three.” “I had no idea anyone was living here,” said Ottoline, impressed. “Oh, you’d be surprised at the number of animals living right here in Big City,” said the Purple Fox, “that no one e
ver notices.”
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The Purple Fox began taking the mysterious objects out of the box. “Oh! These look very interesting!” he exclaimed, examining each one in turn. “There are the turtles in Pettigrew Park, lapdogs in the Tall Teacup Cafe ,” said Ottoline, “and Mr. Shawcross in my building has a pet duck . . .” “I can show you far more interesting animals,” said the Purple Fox smoothly. “In return for these lovely gifts, let me take you and your hairy friend on an Urban Safari.” “His name is Mr. Munroe,” said Ottoline, “and we would love to!” “Meet me on the corner at twelve o’clock tomorrow night,” said the Purple Fox.
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It was raining when Ottoline and Mr. Munroe left the Purple Fox’s den, so instead of going to visit the park they headed to the cafe on 4th Street.
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On 4th Street, Ottoline noticed that a new bookshop had opened up. She stopped and looked in the window. It had some of her favourite books on display . . .
. . . and one book she hadn’t seen before.
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They went inside. “Hello, do you need any help?” said a voice. Ottoline turned to see the girl from the lobby of the Pepperpot Building standing in front of her.
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“I’d like to buy this book,” said Ottoline, picking up the one she’d seen in the window.
“Excellent choice,” said the girl. “I think you’ll enjoy it. I like your hat, by the way.” “Thank you,” said Ottoline. “I like your cardigan.”
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“My name’s Ottoline Brown,” said Ottoline. “You remind me of someone, but I can’t think who.” “My name’s Myrrh Treesister,” said the girl, “and it’s funny because you remind me of someone too . . .” Ottoline bought the book with the money she kept in pocket number three. “I don’t suppose you’d like to pop over to the Tall Teacup Cafe and have a cup of tea with me?” asked Myrrh. “Miss Macintosh can look after the shop, can’t you, Miss Macintosh?” Miss Macintosh looked up from her knitting and nodded. Mr. Munroe was fascinated by the ball of wool at her rather large feet. “What a coincidence,” said Ottoline. “Mr. Munroe and I were just on our way there, weren’t we?”
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But Mr. Munroe was too busy examining the ball of wool to answer.
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At the Tall Teacup Cafe, Myrrh told Ottoline all about herself. Her parents, Doctor and Doctor Treesister, were Roving Book Collectors and had opened the 4th Street Bookshop because there was no room left in their apartment for their growing book collection. Myrrh lived in Apartment 342 of the Paul Stewart III Building, which everyone called the Paul Stewart III Building because it didn’t look like anything else. Miss Macintosh lived with her. She was a small, hairy, big-footed person from a rocky island in the Baltic Sea. “These crumpets are good,” said Myrrh, “but not as good as the Home-Cooked Meal Company’s.” “You know Jean-Pierre?” exclaimed Ottoline. “He’s cooking for my dinner party. Would you and Miss Macintosh like to come?” “We’d love to,” said Myrrh. “But Miss Macintosh is a fussy eater.” “No problem at all,” said Ottoline.
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When Ottoline and Mr. Munroe got home they found a pile of letters waiting for them on the welcome mat.
After supper Ottoline settled down on the Beidermeyer armchair to open her mail.
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Ottoline read the postcard from her parents first. Although they weren’t there, reading their postcards made Ottoline feel that they weren’t so far away. She missed them very much.
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“Thank you for letting me brush your hair, Mr. Munroe,” said Ottoline. “I feel better now.”
Mr. Munroe handed Ottoline the book she’d bought from the 4th Street Bookshop.
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They settled down in the Beidermeyer armchair . . . . . . and read the whole book from beginning to end.
“I’d love to meet Ada Goth,” said Ottoline sleepily.
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“Have you seen my stripy socks anywhere?” asked Ottoline the next morning. “I think I’ll wear them on the Urban Safari tonight.” Mr. Munroe shook his head. “I’ll ask the bear in the basement,” said Ottoline. The doorbell rang. “After breakfast, that is,” she added.
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After breakfast Ottoline went down to the basement.
The bear hadn’t seen Ottoline’s stripy socks, but he did want her to meet his visitors.
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Libby the polar bear and McNally the penguin from the Polar Bear Shoe Company were visiting Big City to show their latest shoe designs to the 3rd Street Shoe Store.
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Ottoline was delighted to see them. The Polar Bear Shoe Company made her favourite shoes and she had lots of them in her Odd Shoe collection.
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After she had caught up on all the news from the Polar Bear Shoe Company, Ottoline listened to the pipes for a while. It’s how she knew everything about everyone in the Pepperpot Building.
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That night Ottoline and Mr. Munroe got dressed in their exploring clothes.
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Then they set off for the Urban Safari.
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They met the Purple Fox at midnight.
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The Purple Fox took them to the fire escape at the back of the Blitzenbilder Building that overlooked Big City Library.
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As they watched, a flock of blue flamingos took off from their roosts on the roof of Big City Library and swooped down to land on the lamp posts in the piazza.
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Next the Purple Fox took them to the roof of the muffin stand on 4th Street and Windmill.
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The manhole covers on 4th Street rose up and lots of small meerkats appeared.
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Then the Purple Fox took them to the mailbox on 5th Street, and they hid inside.
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As they peeped out from the mailbox they saw a herd of miniature zebra trot along 5th Street and cross the road.
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“And finally,” said the Purple Fox smoothly, “we come to the highlight of our Urban Safari. Please step this way.” A lady fox was standing in an alleyway next to a basket and a winch. She had a lovely red fur.
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“Who’s that?” asked Ottoline. “Oh, that’s just my assistant, the Crimson Vixen,” said the Purple Fox as they stepped into the basket. The Crimson Vixen turned the winch and the basket rose. “Your assistant’s fur is a very pretty colour,” said Ottoline. “Really?” said the Purple Fox. “I hadn’t noticed.”
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Ottoline and the Purple Fox Page 1