Nanny Piggins and the Daring Rescue 7 (24 page)

It turns out that Nanny Piggins' idea was to take the refrigerator out of the box and throw it away (actually, she gave it to the local orphanage on the condition that they promised to fill it with chocolate cakes for the children). Then she put Mr Green into the refrigerator box with a couple of dozen sandwiches, a thermos of tea and a few airholes, and taped the box shut.

‘Nanny Piggins, is there a reason why you have taped Father up in a box?' asked Samantha. ‘Or did you just do it so we can have some peace and quiet while we figure out how we're going to get him home?'

‘This is how we're going to get him home,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘We've turned him into a giant parcel. Now we'll just pop him in the post.'

‘Are you sure that'll work?' asked Michael.

‘I don't see why not,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘The post office delivers millions of insignificant letters and bills every day. It's about time they delivered something worthwhile and earned their postage stamps.'

The first problem occurred when they arrived at the red mailbox in the street. It soon became clear that the large refrigerator box was too big to go in. Even with Boris and Nanny Piggins shoving as hard as they could, it refused to fit through the letter flap.

So they had to take their giant parcel to the actual post office. Nanny Piggins usually detested the post office and the children tried to keep her from entering one. It always ended with her standing on the counter denouncing all the postal workers for their rudeness, accusing them of poking holes in parcels to see if they wanted to steal what was inside, and shaming them for the greatest inhumanity of all – forcing people to queue up in winding, serpentine lines. But the post office in Vanuatu was pleasantly laid back. Nanny Piggins was easily able to persuade the lady at the counter that a five-vatu postage stamp was enough postage (by bribing her with a chocolate biscuit).

Nanny Piggins, Boris and the children left the post office thinking their plan had been a brilliant success. But they had not counted on the anti-brilliance of Mr Green. He would have made his escape if he had been able to stop himself complaining for five minutes. But this was something he could not do.

The lady at the counter wondered why the large parcel sitting behind her kept complaining about the heat, or its sandwiches, or the excess of sugar in its tea. But she was an amiable person, so when the giant parcel asked for a copy of the
Economic Times
to be squeezed in through its airhole, she obliged. It was only when Mr Green loudly exclaimed ‘Ow!' and told her off for jamming the newspaper in his ear that she pressed her eye up to the airhole. When she spied Mr Green, the county's great hero, cowering at the bottom of the box, she first asked for his autograph, then on reflection realised her whole family would like his autograph, so cut him out of the box and drove him out to her village where he was forced to endure a delicious twelve-course Melanesian feast.

The next day Nanny Piggins made another attempt to sneak Mr Green out of the country. She took him to the airport and tried to book him onto a flight by disguising him using a fake moustache (which she had made from a strip of fur she snipped off Boris' bottom while he was sleeping).

Things went well at first. They got magazines and snacks for the plane. But as soon as Mr Green approached the check-in desk, the staff became suspicious.

‘You have a Russian passport,' said the check-in lady.

‘Yes,' said Mr Green. ‘What's your point?'

‘It also says you are a ten-foot-tall bear,' said the check-in lady.

‘I look different in different light,' said Mr Green.

‘And that you have blue eyes, the same blue as a Swiss lake,' continued the check-in lady.

‘It does not say that on my passport!' denounced Mr Green.

‘Yes it does,' said the check-in lady, showing him the passport.

‘This is outrageous,' spluttered Mr Green. ‘If I say I am a ten-foot-tall Russian bear with blue eyes, then I am a ten-foot-tall Russian bear with blue eyes. It's none of your business. I demand to be allowed on the plane.'

A crowd had gathered around him. People were pointing and muttering.

‘It's you, isn't it?' said the check-in lady. ‘The hero of the people. The great one!'

Half an hour later, after the police had escorted Mr Green back to his luxury villa, they all sat around the kitchen table wondering what to do next.

‘It's not fair,' wailed Mr Green. ‘Why does everyone have to love me!'

‘You could always do something dreadful,' suggested Derrick, ‘like push someone under a falling anvil.'

‘No,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘Unless he does it to himself, I can't condone that.'

‘You could be really bad at your job and wait to get fired,' suggested Samantha.

‘That would take forever,' said Mr Green. ‘This is the tropics. No-one expects you to work when it's a nice warm day, perfect for going to the beach. And every day is a nice warm day, perfect for going to the beach. No, the President has decreed that I am a national hero, and I must stay for the full term of my contract.'

‘Then there is nothing for it then,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘I shall have to take this to the top.'

‘Mount Everest?' asked Boris.

‘No, the President,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘I'll have to see him and demand that he let you go.'

‘Hah!' scoffed Mr Green. ‘Why would the President see you? You're just a nanny.'

Everyone turned and looked at him.

‘How can you have lived with Nanny Piggins as long as you have and still think that?' marvelled Samantha.

‘Don't be angry with him,' said Nanny Piggins, shaking her head sadly. ‘It's not his fault he's a little slow. He is just a lawyer.'

To give her credit, Nanny Piggins did try asking for an appointment with the President the official way, by ringing up his diary secretary and being very polite. But after being very politely told that childcare workers were not given appointments with the most important man in the country, no matter how good they were at being blasted out of a cannon, Nanny Piggins decided to take matters into her own hands.

Nanny Piggins went down to the President's office, snuck up behind his receptionist, grabbed him about the neck and held a slice of mud cake over his mouth. She had seen a movie the previous week where an international super-spy did the same thing but with a chloroform-soaked rag. Now, to sneak up behind someone and hold a smelly rag over their nose seemed horribly violent to Nanny Piggins. But to sneak up behind someone and hold a delicious cake over their mouth seemed like a lovely act of friendship. One lick and they would give in to her immediately. And of course she was right.

After she had subdued the receptionist, Nanny Piggins just needed to do the same thing to three security guards, two secretaries, a janitor and a cabinet minister before she was in. It actually took longer than she expected because two of the security guards and the cabinet minister all chased after her, begging to be subdued again with a second slice.

When she burst into the President's office, Nanny Piggins found him sitting at his desk. Well, to be strictly accurate he was more slumping, because he was in the middle of his mid-morning nap.

‘Mr President!' called Nanny Piggins.

‘Urgh!' exclaimed the President as he awoke with a start.

‘I demand that you allow Mr Green to return home immediately!' said Nanny Piggins.

‘Who?' asked the President.

‘Mr Green, Mr Lysander Green, the tax lawyer,' explained Nanny Piggins.

‘Oh, the Great Mr Green,' said the President.

Nanny Piggins shuddered. ‘As the World's Greatest Flying Pig, it offends me to hear the word ‘great' used in the same sentence as the name Mr Green, but as a courtesy to your high office I shall allow that to pass for now. Yes, I want Mr Green back. He is unhappy here and his constant complaints are an irritant to me and his children.'

‘Oh no, I'm sorry, you can't have him,' said the President. ‘Vanuatu is his motherland now. If the children miss their father why don't you all come and live here too?'

‘Hmm, that is tempting,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘Hey, wait a minute! How dare you try to seduce me with your wonderful lifestyle. I have come to rescue Mr Green and you are not going to distract me from my task.'

‘I'm President and I say you're not, so there!' said the President, standing up, which just goes to show how strongly he felt because when you are overweight and humidity is above eighty per cent, then getting to your feet is no small feat.

‘We'll see about that,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘You've forced my hand, so I will force yours.'

‘Are you threatening me with physical violence?' asked the President.

‘No, with something far more powerful,' said Nanny Piggins before turning on her heel and storming out of the building (again, holding mud cake over the security guards' faces on her way past, because they begged her to).

‘But how are you going to change the President's mind?' asked Derrick. ‘I mean, it seems obvious to us that Father is not a wonderful person, but a vile and cowardly bottom-feeder, no offense.'

‘None taken,' said Mr Green. ‘It would be unprofessional for a tax lawyer to be anything less.'

‘But the people here seem convinced otherwise,' said Derrick.

‘Oh, I'm not going to argue with the President,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘Arguing almost never works. It just makes your throat sore from all the yelling, and your fingers sore from trying to bang the other person's head against the wall.'

‘So what are you going to do?' asked Michael.

‘I'm going to bewitch him,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘I'm going to appeal to his baser instincts.'

‘How?' asked Samantha.

‘The Dance of the Seven Cakes,' said Nanny Piggins.

‘No!' gasped Boris.

‘I have to,' said Nanny Piggins.

‘But last time you did that dance, every man in the room fell deeply in love with you,' said Boris.

‘I know,' said Nanny Piggins.

‘And there were 900 men in the room,' said Boris.

‘It's a powerful dance,' agreed Nanny Piggins.

‘You're going to seduce the President!' exclaimed Samantha. ‘But he's a married man.'

‘No, no, no,' said Nanny Piggins. ‘I'm not going to seduce him. I'm no marriage wrecker. The seven cakes are going to seduce him.'

‘They are really good cakes,' added Boris.

‘No man can resist them,' added Nanny Piggins. ‘And once I have the President in my cakey thrall I will force him to give me Mr Green's passport and allow him to leave the country.'

‘Brilliant,' said Boris. He was a very encouraging brother.

‘Hogwash!' exclaimed Mr Green, who was a very ungrateful man.

‘It doesn't sound like it should work,' agreed Samantha, ‘but almost everything Nanny Piggins tries does.'

The following night there was a special event to welcome the
Queen Alexandra
, a huge cruise ship that had docked in the harbour that morning. Lots of wealthy tourists had disembarked and spent the day spending money, so the President himself was hosting a magnificent feast.

The decorations were spectacular and the food was delicious. Somehow the local people managed to even get fish to taste good. Their trick was to bury the fish in a hole with hot coals and leave it there a long time, before taking it out and tipping a bucket of cream over it (the French influence on the local cuisine).

Boris, Derrick, Samantha and Michael were all at the feast because the Great Mr Green could take as many guests as he wanted. But Nanny Piggins was strangely absent.

‘Do you know what she's up to?' Derrick asked Boris as he tucked into fifth helpings of dessert.

‘I'm not sure,' said Boris, ‘but I did catch her eyeing that ceremonial cannon they have down at the docks for saluting passing ships.'