The Bolds

by Julian Clary

  “How can we, dear?” said Mr. Bold. “This is a safari park—not a rescue center for homeless animals.”

  Just then the keepers’ Land Rover drew alongside the Bolds’ Honda. For the park hyenas to spend so long next to one car was a cause for concern, and they told the Bolds to move along and make sure their windows were up.

  Mr. Bold rubbed his chin for a moment. “We have to go,” he called as he began to edge the car away. “But listen. Maybe, just maybe, I can think of a way to help poor Tony and save him from the fate that awaits him next Wednesday.”

  Boo and Ena yelped with relief.

  “I can’t promise, but let me think of something. I will come back and tell you what the plan is when I’ve had time to work something out!”

  Everyone howled their hyena good-byes and the Bolds drove on.

  Chapter

  10

  The effect of meeting some other hyenas and, more particularly, the fact that Tony—the older hyena—was going to be put to sleep, had made the Bolds very thoughtful by the time they got home that day.

  “I thought it would be fun,” said Mr. Bold, “but now I’m not so sure.” It was certainly no laughing matter.

  “Wonderful as it was to meet some animals the same as us, I don’t feel particularly happy now,” said Mrs. Bold.

  “Human beings are horrible!” cried Betty. “How can they do such a terrible thing to Tony?”

  “I don’t want to live like a human being if that’s what they are like,” said Bobby crossly. “I’d rather go back to the wild.”

  But luckily a clever hyena plan had been whirring around in Mr. Bold’s brain on the drive back and he had perhaps, perhaps, thought of a way to save Tony and cheer everyone up in the process.

  “How would you feel,” he asked, “if Tony came to live with us?”

  “Oh, yes!” said the twins. “Yes please!”

  “But what do you mean, dear?” asked Amelia. “How could he?”

  “Well, it isn’t going to be easy. But I think there is a way we could rescue him. Now. Have we still got the map of the safari park?”

  Mrs. Bold took it out of her handbag and passed it to him.

  Mr. Bold spread it out on the table and studied it carefully. “Hmmm. I see,” he said. “We only have a week, so we’d better act fast. And we’re going to need the help of Minnie. Betty, give her a call and see if she can come over tomorrow morning. This evening we will clean out the spare bedroom, which is full of junk, old sticks, and half-chewed bones. The next few days are going to be very busy indeed. Just as well it’s the school holidays. And we’re going to be working in the dead of night, so I’m afraid no one is going to be getting much sleep.”

  Fred took the next few days off work to carry out his plan. First he drove back to the safari park in the morning and told Ena and Boo the details—and they were so excited they jumped somersaults.

  “It’s quite brilliant!” they laughed and chortled.

  “But you need to talk to Tony,” said Fred. “If he isn’t happy about coming to live with us Bolds, then we can’t really do it.”

  “But the alternative is too awful,” said Ena.

  “And he can come and see you whenever he feels like it,” added Fred.

  “Right,” said Boo. “I like that idea. Because we are going to miss him here.”

  So what exactly was Mr. Bold’s plan? I hear you asking. Well, it involved digging. LOTS of digging. At night. The Bolds were going to dig a tunnel from outside the safari park. Mr. Bold had chosen an area by the perimeter that was sheltered by some trees and scrubby bushes so no one would notice. Meanwhile Ena and Boo would dig from inside their burrow, unseen by the keepers. All being well, the two tunnels would meet halfway, Tony could escape, and then the tunnels could be filled in. By the time the safari park keepers arrived for work next Wednesday, the tunnel would be gone and Tony would be warm and cozy in the Bolds’ spare room!

  “But then what?” asked Amelia. “Once they discover Tony has gone missing there will be terrible trouble: headline news, HYENA ON THE LOOSE! There will be house-to-house searches and everything! We could all be in danger!”

  Fred had thought of this too, and that’s where Minnie came in. Her father, you might remember, was a butcher on Teddington High Street. So Minnie’s task was to get some big bones from the fridge storeroom at the back of the shop that could then be strewn around the hyenas’ enclosure. Then the keepers, discovering Tony was missing, would put two and two together and make five, and assume that Tony had been eaten by the other hyenas, just as they’d predicted. It might seem a little grisly to you as a human being, but not as grisly as what the vet (a human) was planning to do to poor Tony (a hyena).

  The whole, unsavory business would be hushed up, and no unnecessary publicity would result. A spot of cannibalism among wild animals isn’t unheard of, and they would quite reasonably think nature had simply taken its course.

  That was the plan, anyway. But could it really work? Fred didn’t know, but it was the best plan he had. In fact, it was the only plan he had.

  The digging began that very night. Long after most people had gone to bed, all four Bolds crept out of the house and got in the car.

  Now for you and me, being up all night would feel very odd indeed, but in actual fact hyenas are nocturnal. Like owls and bats, they like to sleep during the day and go out and about under cover of darkness. This was another habit the Bolds had had to break when they arrived in Teddington, in order not to draw too much attention to themselves as they pretended to be humans. But they now slipped easily back into being awake at night as their journey to the safari park started. And so too did Betty and Bobby.

  At the sound of the car engine starting, a light went on upstairs in Mr. McNumpty’s house and his big, cross face appeared at the window, peering out at them and scowling. For some reason he was a touch nocturnal himself.

  “Poo,” said Mr. Bold. “We’ve been spotted. Never mind. No law against going out after dark.”

  The Bolds drove to Kenton and parked by the high wall at the back of the safari park. Checking no one was about, they scuttled to the chosen spot, hidden behind a thick covering of ferns and brambles.

  “What now?” asked an excited Bobby.

  “Listen, everyone,” said Mr. Bold, as he consulted the safari park map. “This is where the hard work begins. The hyena burrow is exactly sixty yards in that direction.” He signalled to the other side of the wall. “And we’ve got to dig down and then across. Boo and Ena will do the same from their side—they tell me they are very good at digging, so they can do as much as we do every night. Tonight is Thursday. We have to get five yards along every night, and so do they—though they can do some digging in the daytime too, if they’re careful not to be seen. By my calculations we should meet in the middle sometime on Tuesday night at the latest. Then we can get Tony out.”

  “We hyenas are very good at digging,” added Mrs. Bold reassuringly. “And there are four of us, so we can take it in shifts.”

  “Does this mean I’ve got to get dirty?” asked Betty, wrinkling up her nose.

  “Yes, sweetness,” said Mr. Bold, rolling up his sleeves. “Covered in muck and dirt from head to paw.”

  “Digging is second nature to us. You’ll love it once you get going,” Mrs. Bold reassured her daughter.

  “Gross!” said Betty.

  “Let’s do this thing!” said Bobby, chuckling.

  Mr. Bold spent a minute choosing the right spot to start the tunnel, and then got down on all fours. With his front paws he began to scratch at the ground, moving leaves and twigs to one side. Then, pressing harder, he started to dig. The top soil was dry and powdery, but once he got into his rhythm it became dark and damp and big clods of earth were loosened and removed. Then he started in earnest, head to the ground, his front legs digging faster and faster until they became a blur, and out behind him, from between his hind legs came a spray of earth and sand, like a garden hose at full blas
t. And slowly, as the hole he created got bigger, his head and shoulders disappeared from view.

  After ten minutes he stopped for a break, reversing back out. His snout was covered in earth and he was panting for breath, his big pink tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. He’d never looked less like a human and more like a hyena—Mrs. Bold thought him very attractive.

  “Here, dear,” she said coquettishly, pouring a bottle of water into a bowl and placing it on the ground. “Have a drink. In the old-fashioned way, for once.” Mr. Bold got down and lapped at the water like a thirsty dog (or hyena).

  “Wow, Dad!” said Betty. “You look wild!”

  “That felt good!” panted Mr. Bold. “Who wants a go?”

  “Me please!” said Bobby. His paws had been twitching to have a good dig the moment he saw his father start.

  “Off you go, then,” said Mrs. Bold. “Hop in.”

  Bobby gave a yelp of excitement and leaped into the hole. It was as exhilarating as riding a bike for the first time, and he took to it like a duck to water.

  A few hours later, all four Bolds were covered in mud—filthy, tired, but gloriously happy. Even Betty had loved her first digging experience—giving way to her hyena instincts for once had been deeply satisfying.

  “Who knew?” she said, admiring the black earth beneath her fingernails. “It’s more fun than anything else, ever!”

  “I want to be a professional digger when I grow up,” announced Bobby.

  They had dug the first five yards of the tunnel, and as the dawn was beginning to break, Mr. Bold said it was time to go home.

  “We’ve made a good start,” he told his family. “And we’ll be back to dig some more tomorrow.”

  “Bath and breakfast!” said Mrs. Bold.

  “That reminds me . . .”

  Chapter

  11

  For us humans, it is difficult to understand how wonderful the feral activity of getting down and dirty was for the Bolds. Although they were on a mission to save poor Tony, the nightly visit to the tunnel and the frantic digging and getting covered in muck and filth was, to them, a form of liberation: like a caged bird suddenly being allowed to fly free in the endless sky.

  The Bolds were happier than they could have ever imagined—the only sad part was washing off all the mud when they got home each morning. Bobby and Betty had to be reminded to walk primly on their hind legs again, and Mr. Bold had to stop himself from rubbing his rump on the garden gate.

  The only worry was the troublesome Mr. McNumpty, who not only seemed to observe them leaving the house late each night, but also saw them returning, caked in dry mud. But Mr. Bold knew there was nothing they could do about their nosy neighbor. What they did was their own business, and Mr. McNumpty could be as curious as he wanted—he would never know what they had been up to.

  The tunnel, meanwhile, was progressing according to Fred’s plan. It was, roughly speaking, a round tube, about a yard and a half in diameter. Some tree roots dangled down in places, water trickled in and formed puddles, moles peeked in though the walls occasionally, wondering what was going on, but it seemed sturdy enough. After all, it only had to last a couple more days, and then Tony could be transported out of the safari park to the safety of Fairfield Road.

  On Monday afternoon Mr. Bold visited the safari park again, and Boo and Ena (whom he had to wake up by beeping his horn, because they were so tired from their nightly exertions) said things were going excellently from their end too. If everything went according to plan the two tunnels should join up on Tuesday night.

  Tony came up to speak to Fred too.

  “Thank you,” he said, his eyes watery with emotion. “From the bottom of my heart. I promise I will be no trouble to you and your family. What you’re doing for me is so kind . . . I can’t think how I can ever repay you. But . . . you don’t think anything could go wrong, do you?” He looked worried.

  Fred shook his head reassuringly. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Tony. It’s all under control and we’re looking forward to having you. You will have a lovely life with us. We’ve got the spare room all ready for you—a nice comfy bed, litter tray, dog biscuits—you’ll be very happy, I promise!”

  It was Tuesday afternoon, and not long before the night of the final dig, when the two tunnels should meet and Tony could make his escape. By now Mr. McNumpty was convinced there was something very sinister going on with his next-door neighbors. What possible explanation could there be for such strange nocturnal activities? Grave robbers? he wondered darkly. He even went to the local cemetery to see if there was any evidence, but there was no sign of anything much. Mr. Bold was right, though—there was no law against going out at night, and there wasn’t anything Mr. McNumpty could do about it.

  That afternoon Minnie came over dragging a large black garbage bag.

  “I got as many big bones as I could,” she said, a little breathlessly. “From the back room at my dad’s shop, where they cut all the meat up.”

  Mr. Bold peered inside and licked his lips. There were big, juicy bones and ribs, perfect for fooling the safari park keepers.

  “Well done, Minnie,” he said, restraining himself from having a quick nibble. “They’ll think this is all that’s left of poor Tony.” He placed the garbage bag carefully by the front door. “I think this calls for a few butcher jokes . . . Listen up, everyone.” He cleared his throat and waited until everyone was listening eagerly.

  Everyone laughed heartily and asked for another joke.

  “Er, let me see,” said Mr. Bold. “Ah, yes!”

  Before the Bolds left for the final dig that night, Fred gathered them all around the kitchen table and checked the time.

  Betty and Bobby giggled. “No, seriously,” their father continued. “We’re nearly home and dry, folks. All being well, in a few hours’ time our work will be done and we will be welcoming a new member to our family.”

  “Hurrah!” said Bobby.

  “Yes, indeed,” said Mr. Bold. “But I just want to run through a few things. Firstly, poor Tony is a hyena like us, but he hasn’t yet learned to disguise this fact. We need to be careful—we are being watched, and I think you know to whom I am referring?”

  “Nosy McNumpty!” said Betty without hesitation.

  “Yes!” said Mr. Bold. His eyes began to twinkle, which usually meant he was about to tell another joke.

  “Oh really, Fred,” said Mrs. Bold, smiling. “This is no joking matter!”

  “Sorry, couldn’t resist!” said Mr. Bold. “Seriously, though, we shall have to keep our curtains drawn, and Tony mustn’t go for a run about in the garden unless we are sure the coast is clear. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir!” said the twins.

  “Mr. McNumpty knows we are up to something, so we have to be extra-careful.”

  “And it’s going to take poor Tony a while to adjust,” added Mrs. Bold. “He is old and probably wise, but he has never lived in a house before. We must be patient and understanding with him. He’ll need, er, toilet training, among other things.”

  Mr. Bold nodded in agreement, then said:

  “Ha ha!” said Bobby

  “Want another one?” asked his father.

  “Oh, go on then,” said Mrs. Bold. “But quickly, then we really must be off.”

  “Here goes!” said Fred.

  A short while later, carrying the garbage bag full of bones and the flashlight, they set off, Mr. McNumpty glowering at them from his bedroom window.

  There was a thunderstorm going on that night, so the work was even muddier than usual. It was particularly tough going, and all the Bolds were exhausted. After two hours of digging, taking turns every ten minutes, all four Bolds were down in the tunnel together, streaked with glistening mud and sweat, their clothes soaked and clinging to them.

  Then they heard a noise.

  “Hush!” said Mr. Bold suddenly. “What’s that?” He shone the flashlight around the walls of the tunnel, and then they heard it again, a faint
scratching noise coming from right ahead of them.

  “This is it! We’re nearly through!” he whispered. “Look!”

  The wall of earth crumbled slightly before their eyes and the scratching sounded louder.

  “Boo? Ena?” Mr. Bold called. “It’s Fred!”

  The scratching stopped and a faint “Hello!” could be heard.

  “Stand back!” said Mr. Bold and he began scraping frantically at the earth for a few minutes—until suddenly a hole appeared and a big brown eye looked through at them.

  “Who’s there?” asked Mr. Bold.

  “Boo!”

  “Boo who?”

  “Boo!”

  Mr. Bold couldn’t help himself. “Boo hoo! Don’t cry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he joked.

  Bobby snorted with laughter.

  “It’s Boo, silly!” said Betty.

  “Yes, of course it is! Who did you think it was? The Prime Minister?” panted Boo.

  “We’ve done it!” cried Bobby.

  Mrs. Bold was almost in tears with excitement. Within moments the hole was big enough for Boo, Ena, and then (with a few moans and groans) poor Tony to climb through, and although it was a tight squeeze they all slipped about hugging each other and congratulating themselves.

  In the confusion there was even a bit of bottom-sniffing going on, but all of the hyenas were so euphoric, who could blame them?

  “There is no time to lose,” said Mr. Bold, once the greetings were over. “Tony had better say his good-byes and then we’ll get him into the car and away to Fairfield Road.”

  The Bolds all stood respectfully while Boo and Ena walked over to Tony.

  “We will miss you more than you will ever know,” said Ena, tenderly licking his face.

  “Me too,” said Tony, holding back his tears. “Tell the pups I love them, and will be along to see them soon.”