Nanny Piggins and the Daring Rescue 7 (18 page)

‘It could be a delivery person,' suggested Michael, ‘coming to give you a big box of chocolates, and if you don't go down and sign for it you'll lose them forever.' (He'd been having a lovely dream about someone delivering a big box of chocolates.)

‘You're right!' exclaimed Nanny Piggins. ‘I still think it is more likely to be a kidnapper. But if there is even the smallest chance it could be a deluded person inexplicably giving away large amounts of chocolate, then I must take the risk of going down to see.'

So they all went downstairs to the front door (still in their pyjamas) to see who it was. Nanny Piggins did pick up the fire poker on the way through, just in case. She almost never used the fire poker for poking the fire but found it enormously useful for poking a great many other things – cakes, jellies and annoying people who needed to be given a warning. (Sometimes when she was feeling generous, Nanny Piggins did warn a person before biting their shins, usually when she'd just put lipstick on and did not want to mess it up.)

Nanny Piggins swung open the front door and then stepped back into a defensive stance. ‘If you've brought me a big box of chocolates, just toss it on the ground and then run away. We don't want to hurt you,' she called. But no chocolates were forthcoming.

Nanny Piggins edged forward and peered out. She could not see anyone. No chocolate delivery person. And no kidnappers.

‘No-one's there!' exclaimed Samantha.

‘But that doesn't make sense,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘We definitely heard the doorbell. Unless it was some wicked reprobate who rang the bell, then ran away as some sort of cruel practical joke.'

‘You did that to half our neighbours at three o'clock this morning,' Samantha reminded her.

‘Yes, but not as a trick,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘I was just trying to find someone with some hot chocolate because it was getting a little nippy and I didn't want you children to get a chill. I was just being a good nanny.'

‘Hello,' interrupted a voice.

Nanny Piggins and the children recoiled.

‘What was that?' asked Samantha.

‘It was a voice,' said Nanny Piggins.

‘But whose voice?' asked Derrick. ‘There's no-one there.'

‘Don't be frightened,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘It's probably just a ghost. Michael, run next door and ask Mrs Simpson for some garlic.'

‘Are you going to use garlic to drive the ghost away?' asked Samantha.

‘No, of course not,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘Just because he's a ghost doesn't mean we can be rude. I need garlic because I've heard that ghosts enjoy Italian food.'

‘I'm not a ghost,' said the voice. ‘It's me. Awk!'

‘Awk?' said Derrick.

‘I know of only one person who punctuates their speech with the word ‘Awk'!' declared Nanny Piggins. ‘Percy? Is that you?'

Nanny Piggins leaned out the doorway and looked down onto the front step, and there was a small red parrot.

‘Awk! Allo, Sarah,' said Percy. ‘Who's a pretty girl then?'

‘Stop it, Percy,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘You'll make me blush.'

‘This is a friend of yours?' asked Michael.

‘Of course,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘I know Percy from the circus. He's the World's Greatest Talking Parrot.'

‘I'm surprised we haven't met him before,' said Samantha.

‘Well, Percy has a huge advantage over everyone else who works at the circus,' explained Nanny Piggins. ‘When the Ringmaster is being his most irritating and megalomaniacal, Percy can fly away.'

‘Awk!' agreed Percy. ‘The Ringmaster tried substituting styrofoam for my birdseed last year so I flew away and spent six months being a pirate's parrot.'

‘A real pirate?' asked Derrick.

‘Oh, yes. It was a lot of fun,' said Percy, ‘but don't ever get mixed up with music piracy. I made that mistake once. Sitting on someone's shoulder while they sit at a computer illegally downloading songs from the internet is not nearly as exciting as sitting on someone's shoulder as they sail the high seas stealing treasure.'

‘Do people really still bury treasure on deserted islands?' asked Michael.

‘Oh my word, yes,' said Percy. ‘Sure there's always a chance a rival pirate could steal it, a monkey could eat it or an earthquake could cause the whole island to sink into the sea. But it's still much safer than putting it in a bank.'

‘Well, you must come in,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘I don't think we have any birdseed. But I could whip up an orange and poppyseed cake.'

They all went inside and ate lots of cake, before Percy explained himself. Nanny Piggins rightly assumed that anyone who turned up on her doorstep looking for help would have a long story to tell, and it is always best to listen to a long story on a full stomach, otherwise your brain will not hear a word of it.

‘Has the Ringmaster been wicked to you again?' asked Nanny Piggins. ‘You really should use your 50 year binding contract as lining for the bottom of your cage.'

‘No, the Ringmaster is no worse than usual,' said Percy, ‘although I am going to break my contract.'

‘Good for you,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘I'm tremendous friends with the local Police Sergeant, so if he comes to arrest you I know just what to bake to bribe him into letting you fly away.'

‘That's not my problem,' said Percy. ‘My problem is that I've got a job at a radio station.'

‘How is that a problem?' asked Derrick.

‘Regular employment can be very confronting to circus folk,' explained Nanny Piggins. ‘Being expected to turn up at an office that has biscuits in the break room and indoor plumbing in the bathroom can make a circus performer anxious. It seems too good to be true.'

‘Awk, that's not it,' said Percy. ‘The problem is I've got the job, but they haven't met me yet, so there are certain crucial things they don't know about me.'

‘Like what?' asked Nanny Piggins. ‘That you don't care for salsa music, that san choi bow is your favourite Chinese dish, or that you have an ideological aversion to Lego?'

‘No, they don't know that I'm a parrot,' explained Percy.

‘How could they not know that?' asked Michael. ‘No offence but it was kind of the first thing I noticed about you.'

‘They've only spoken to me on the telephone,' explained Percy. ‘I used to ring up the talkback radio station every day and give my opinion about things. The key is to talk about how silly the person before you was. Anyway, they liked me so much, they've offered me a job.'

‘I don't see what the problem is,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘How can they be upset about you being a parrot?'

‘I find that humans aren't always broad-minded when they're interacting with a parrot,' said Percy. ‘Sure, they're happy to offer you a cracker. But they very rarely give you one. And for some reason they insist on calling me Polly even when my name is actually Percy.'

Nanny Piggins shook her head sadly. ‘They really are a narrow-minded species.'

‘Hey!' protested Michael.

‘Not you three, obviously,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘But only because you've been raised properly by me and you know you should always show good manners towards every species except –'

‘Aardvarks,' supplied the children.

‘Exactly,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘Nasty animals. Being first in the alphabet makes them so conceited. You should have as little to do with them as possible. So Percy, what was it you'd like me to do?'

‘I was hoping that you would agree to be my agent,' said Percy.

‘Of course,' said Nanny Piggins, ‘but first you'd better tell me what an agent is.'

‘Creative people get an agent to handle their business negotiations for them,' explained Percy, ‘because people who have an artistic temperament often aren't good at arguing with megalomaniacs. The last time I negotiated a contract was with the Ringmaster. I tried to get a ten per cent pay raise but by the time I left his caravan I'd negotiated a 20 per cent pay cut plus an additional 25 years on my 50 year contract.'

‘Don't worry, I'll be happy to represent you,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘It would be my pleasure to go down to the radio station and bite a few shins. I've been meaning to do that anyway, to punish them for the dreadful music they've been playing. They call it “classic rock” but frankly, banging two rocks together would sound better.'

And so, after a light breakfast of a few dozen chocolate-covered pancakes, and getting dressed (a business suit over her best wrestling leotard), Nanny Piggins was ready to go down to the radio station to negotiate Percy's contract. The children came along too, because Nanny Piggins thought it would be much more educational than school. Contract negotiation requires a knowledge of mathematics, psychology, legal terminology and all the main pain points in the human shin. They also took Boris with them because he had one semester's worth of training in law, plus he could create a diversion by doing a little ballet if the need arose.

When they got to the radio station, the first challenge was getting past the reception desk. A very rude, slack-jawed youth called Jessica told them they could not go in without an appointment, then seemed almost disappointed when Nanny Piggins announced that they had one.

‘You can't take a bear, a parrot and three children into a job interview,' said the receptionist.

‘They aren't children,' fibbed Nanny Piggins. ‘They are a very short documentary film crew, doing a fly-on-the-wall exposé on the interior decoration of radio stations.'

‘Where are their cameras?' asked the receptionist.

‘They are hidden about their persons,' said Nanny Piggins.

‘Well, you definitely can't take a bear into the interview,' said the receptionist.

‘Why?' asked Nanny Piggins.

‘Because,' said the receptionist.

‘Do you have a manual somewhere specifically stating that bears are forbidden from entering the premises?' asked Nanny Piggins.

‘No,' sulked the youth.

‘Then I suggest you don't go ahead making unilateral decisions on your own,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘Because this Bear is also a legal genius who has won every trial he has ever taken to court.'

Boris smiled and nodded. (Admittedly, he had only taken one case to court, which made it easier to maintain his one hundred per cent success rate.)

Realising that she was going to lose this argument, the receptionist sulked some more, said ‘Whatever', put her ear buds back in (she was listening to something other than the rubbish being played by her own radio station) and buzzed them through.

‘Come in, come in,' said the station manager. ‘We want you to know we are very happy to have Percy be a member of our team. It's a shame he couldn't be here today. I was looking forward to meeting him.'

‘He
is
here,' said Nanny Piggins.

‘He is?' said the station manager, looking at Derrick, then Michael.

‘Over here,' said Nanny Piggins, pointing to the parrot sitting on her shoulder.

‘Allo, awk,' said Percy.

‘Is this a joke?' asked the station manager. ‘Did the guys from StirFM send you over?'

‘We're circus folk,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘We don't joke about contract negotiations. We may weep about them for decades, but we never joke.'

‘I can't hire a parrot,' protested the station manager. ‘I'd be a laughing stock.'

‘Good. Your listeners could do with a laugh,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘Your DJ's aren't very funny.'

‘No way,' said the station manager. He pressed the intercom button. ‘Jessica, call security.'

‘Oh dear, I don't like to get nasty but I can see you are not going to be reasonable,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘If you don't give Percy the job, then things are going to get ugly for you.'

‘Are you threatening me?' asked the station manager.

‘Yes, I am,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘I'm glad you're catching on. I'm saying that Percy is a parrot – a group very under-represented in the media. If you don't hire him, you will put every bird in the country off side.'

The station manager laughed. ‘You're being ridiculous.'

‘Am I?' said Nanny Piggins. ‘We'll soon see how you like it when every bird in town goes out of its way to poo on your head.'

‘They wouldn't!' said the station manager.

‘Of course they would,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘Birds poo on people's heads all the time. Imagine how much more they would do it if they had a reason.'

‘Not just you,' added Boris. ‘They'd poo on your car.'

The station manager gasped. ‘Not the Ferrari! Couldn't they poo on my family instead?'

‘What colour is your car?' asked Nanny Piggins.

‘Red,' said the station manager.

‘They'd definitely poo on that,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘Birds can't resist a shiny red car.'