Snakes' Elbows (12 page)

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Authors: Deirdre Madden

BOOK: Snakes' Elbows
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As I told you right at the beginning of this story, all the people who lived in Woodford thought of it as a most unremarkable little town. Imagine, then, their astonishment when they heard of the extraordinary events that had been unfolding in recent days. There was so much news in the
Woodford Trumpet
the morning after Jasper's arrest that it was ten times thicker than usual, and all the paperboys had great difficulty stuffing copies through the letterboxes.

As in every house in town, the butcher and his wife sat reading at the kitchen table over
breakfast. The butcher was in his string vest, his wife in a short frilly nightie with curlers in her hair, and both of them were boggle-eyed with amazement.

‘A secret bomb factory hidden in the woods! Who'd have thought it? If anything had gone wrong, the whole town could have been blown to pieces,' said the butcher.

‘And Barney Barrington having all those wonderful paintings in his house and none of us ever knowing about it,' said his wife.

‘Magic fudge!'

‘Jasper Jellit an art thief!'

‘And a cat-napper! You couldn't make it up.'

‘And above all, Jasper isn't even his real name. It's Jimmy!' They read and marvelled as their bacon and eggs grew cold on the plates before them, and their cornflakes turned to a wet mush. But there was another surprise to come in the newspaper the following day with a huge black headline that covered most of the front page:

‘GENEROUS GENIUS GIVES
GOB-SMACKING
GIFT!

‘BRILLIANT Barney Barrington has made the EXTRAORDINARY decision to give ALL his paintings to the town of Woodford. In an EXCLUSIVE interview with the
TRUMPET
the marvellous musician told our reporter, “I was UPSET when the pictures were STOLEN and then I lost my cat DANDELION too. I began to think about what was really IMPORTANT in life. I realised that perhaps I'd been SELFISH keeping the pictures all to myself. And so when the POLICE found them for me, I decided that I would GIVE them to the ART GALLERY. I can go down to SEE them every day if I want, and EVERYBODY in the WHOLE TOWN will be able to see them too. I asked Wilf what he thought and he said that it was A REALLY GOOD IDEA.”

‘Philomena Phelan, Director of the Woodford Art Gallery said, “It's INCREDIBLE. They're MAGNIFICENT pictures. We're going to have
one of the BEST collections of paintings in THE WHOLE WORLD. Mr Barrington has been amazingly KIND and BIG-HEARTED in doing this. To THANK him and to CELEBRATE, the gallery and the town are going to throw a HUGE PARTY for him on FRIDAY. EVERYBODY is WELCOME. It's going to be an UNFORGETTABLE night!”

‘And the
TRUMPET
will be there too! Don't miss our SPECIAL SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT! BARNEY, YOU'RE A HERO!'

But Barney didn't want to go to the party. ‘I can't,' he wailed to Wilf early on Friday evening.

‘You can't not,' said Wilf sternly. ‘Everybody will be so disappointed if you're not there. Go upstairs and put on your best suit.'

Barney hadn't worn his dinner jacket since he stopped giving concerts. When he took it out of the back of the wardrobe, it was full of holes, for the moths had chomped and guzzled their way through the sleeves. Barney had become fatter too, because of all the delicious food
Wilf prepared for him, so his tummy pushed the waistband out and made the trousers short in the legs. ‘We'd better try to make you look smart,' he said to Dandelion, and put a black velvet bow-tie around her neck. ‘There now, it goes nicely with your bib.' But Dandelion didn't agree.

‘I look like a waiter,' she thought as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. ‘People will keep asking me for drinks and crisps and nibbly things.'

With that there was a knock on the door, and Wilf came in. ‘The taxi's here,' he said. ‘Blimey, the old suit's seen better days, hasn't it Barney?' Then he noticed the cat. ‘You look like a waiter,' he said with a chuckle. ‘People will keep asking you for drinks and crisps and nibbly things.'

‘Oh no!' thought Dandelion. They heard the toot of a car horn outside.

‘No time to waste,' said Wilf. ‘Let's be off.'

In the taxi on the way to the art gallery,
Barney was so nervous he had a pain in his tummy. He remembered his first day back in Woodford, when he had gone shopping in the supermarket and everyone had stared and pointed at him, as if he were some kind of monster or freak. What if the same thing happened tonight? As he got out of the taxi at the art gallery he noticed that Dandelion was shivering, and as Wilf paid the driver, he picked the cat up in his arms and cuddled her. ‘It'll be all right, Puss,' he said, but he wasn't at all sure that it would be. ‘It'll be all right.'

The windows of the gallery glowed brightly in the darkness of the night and as they approached they could hear the buzz of voices, the sound of laughter and the clink of glasses. The great wooden doors of the gallery swung open, and … what a sight met Barney's eyes!

There were his paintings – the fine fat salmon on a china dish, the seascape, the young man in the velvet hat, and the rest of them, all wonderfully displayed and perfectly lit.
So many people there too, and they turned and stared as Barney, Wilf and Dandelion came into the room. For a moment there was complete silence. And then they started to clap their hands.

The applause grew, louder and louder, and on and on it went, and suddenly Barney felt that he was back in the good old days. It was like the end of a concert, when he knew that he had brought beauty and joy into the lives of hundreds and hundreds of people, had given them something magical that they would never forget. Such moments had always made Barney joyful, and as he no longer gave concerts, he had thought never to know such an evening again. His heart warmed and glowed within him, and as the applause finally died away, someone shouted: ‘Three cheers for Barney Barrington!'

‘Hip! Hip! Hooray!

‘Hip! Hip! Hooray!

‘Hip! Hip! Hooray!'
Goodness, everyone was here tonight, and everyone wanted to talk to Barney. Here was Mrs Haverford-Snuffley in a remarkable hat with a long pink feather in it, from the end of which dangled a bat. The bat was wearing an elegant bonnet, tied firmly under its chin with a green ribbon to stop it from falling off when the bat was hanging upside down.

‘So you're the wonderful man who bought my angel,' cried Mrs Haverford-Snuffley. ‘Our house is delightful now, isn't it, sweetie?' and the bat nodded in agreement. ‘We're all as warm as toast and all the bats have bonnets and berets. You must come and visit us. Do! Do!' And Barney promised that he would.

A young couple holding hands came up to him and said, ‘Mr Barrington, we want to thank you. If it hadn't been for you, we would never have met.'

This puzzled him. ‘Perhaps there's some mistake,' he said. ‘I don't think we know each other.'

The woman laughed, and explained how
she had first met her companion under the dripping tree, watching the lights in Barney's house. ‘We're getting married next week,' she said. ‘Will you come to our wedding?'

‘Why of course,' he replied, beaming. ‘Congratulations! I wish you many, many years of happiness together.'

Just at that, Dandelion started to paw at his ankles. ‘What is it, Pussens?'

Cannibal and Bruiser! There they were, together with the policeman and policewoman. Barney followed as the cat scampered over to them, and the dogs licked her face, snuggling up to her. Although Barney didn't realise it, while he was talking to the police the animals were also chatting excitedly amongst themselves.

‘We're detective inspectors now,' the policeman said proudly. ‘We both got promoted after the Jellit case.'

‘How wonderful! I don't know how to begin to thank you for finding my cat and my paintings. How on earth did you do it?'

‘The aftershave made me suspicious,' the policewoman said, ‘and then when I saw how mean he was to his dogs I knew he was a bad egg, and so everything followed on from there. Of course, we couldn't have done it without Cannibal and Bruiser.'

‘Where have the dogs been living since Jasper was arrested?'

‘In the dog-pound. I don't know what's going to happen to them. I'd adopt them myself only I'm out at work all day, and my garden's too small,' said the policewoman.

‘Why then, they must come and live with us,' said Barney immediately, and with that the dogs started to bark and bark excitedly. Dandelion began to purr, so loudly that she could be heard even above the noise of the party and the
Plooff! Plooff!
of the
Trumpet's
photographer's flashgun.

‘Aren't animals strange,' said the policeman. ‘You'd almost think they knew what we were talking about.

Suddenly a woman appeared at Barney's elbow. ‘Hello, Mr Barrington. I'm Philomena Phelan. I hope you're enjoying the party.'

‘Oh I am, much more than I thought I might,' Barney said.

‘Why, you have nothing to eat or drink,' she said. ‘That will never do.' Smiling, she called over a waiter carrying a silver tray. Wilf was also standing nearby, with a great big grin on his face.

The nibbly things on offer were most unusual. There were tiny pieces of toast, each no bigger than a stamp and on each one were … three baked beans! ‘I remembered reading in the paper once that you don't like baked beans but Wilf told me that it wasn't true. He told me that you love them,' said Philomena, ‘so we had these made especially for you.'

‘How thoughtful!' said Barney. ‘But these other ones, they're made of fish, aren't they? Raw fish. Are they for the cat?'

‘She can have some if she likes,' said Wilf,
‘but not all of them, because there's somebody else here tonight who also likes raw fish. Look behind you, Barney.'

Standing behind him was an elderly woman with soft grey hair. She wore an emerald green silk kimono and in her hands she held a white bird made of folded paper.

‘O-Haru!'

Barney said her name, but he could say nothing more, because his heart was so full.

O-Haru smiled and bowed, handed him the paper bird.

‘We wanted to do something special to thank you for being so generous in giving all your paintings to the town,' said Philomena Phelan. ‘So I asked Wilf what you might like, and he said he thought that more than anything else in all the world, you would like to be with O-Haru.'

‘He was right,' whispered Barney. ‘Oh, my love, I had thought never to see you again. For how long will you stay?'

‘For how long do you wish me to stay?' asked O-Haru.

‘For the rest of our lives,' said Barney. ‘Forever.'

And what of Jasper? Together with Mr Smith, he was sent to jail for a long, long time. None of the other prisoners ever knew that Mr Smith had a gold tooth because he never smiled, not even once, in all those years. To begin with, Jasper sulked and huffed. There was no point now in complaining about being given Jaffa cakes when you wanted chocolate fingers, because there were no biscuits at all in prison. But he soon settled down, and within a week had made pets out of two rats. He calls them Fleabag and Toe-rag, but unlike Cannibal and Bruiser the rats love their names, and they get
along famously with Jasper. He's due to be released from prison any day now and I'm afraid he may well be up to his old tricks again in no time at all …

The dogs were given new names as soon as they went to live in Barney's house. Cannibal became Prince, and Bruiser became Cuddles. They weren't exactly the names they had wanted for themselves. Together with Dandelion, they still sometimes find it hard to let Barney know precisely what they want to say. But before long, they liked these names even better than the ones they had chosen. Prince was a Prince amongst dogs, and Cuddles … well, the name speaks for itself.

People from all over the country and then from all over the world came to visit Woodford and see its magnificent paintings. They bought Woodford Creams to take home as presents for their friends, so many that the shy, dreamy woman who made them was able to open three more shops. She needed lots more roses
to make all the chocolates and so she planted an immense new rose garden, which was so spectacular that in time visitors came to see that too. They also went to see the stained-glass windows in the old church that didn't show angels or saints, but wild flowers: primroses in one pointed window, violets in another, harebells in another, and so on. New hotels and restaurants were built for all the visitors, and so thanks to Barney the whole town became prosperous. Woodford became famous throughout the world as a delightful place to visit, and no one ever again thought of it as dull or unremarkable.

Wilf found a new vet for the animals, someone who loves both cats
and
dogs. Dandelion never again had to wear a stout red leather harness, nor swallow enormous yellow pills.

Every day Barney took the dogs for a walk, with Dandelion carried down the front of his cardigan, her little face peeping out above the buttons. Often he stopped to talk to the local
children, who patted the cat's head and stroked the dogs. He went to the art gallery to see all the paintings, and sometimes had a cup of tea with Philomena Phelan while he was there. He did keep one painting for himself – the Haverford-Snuffley Angel – but every January he loaned it to the art gallery so that everyone could see it. This was a good idea because unless you happen to have your birthday in January, it's rather an unexciting month, and so it gave the people of Woodford something to look forward to after Christmas. Together with O-Haru, Wilf, Dandelion, Cann—oops, sorry, Prince and Cuddles, Barney lived happily for many, many years to come and was never lonely again.

One day towards the end of his life when Barney was an extremely old man, the mayor of Woodford came to visit. ‘You've done so much for the town,' he said, ‘that we should like to put up a statue in your honour.'

‘Oh I don't think that's necessary. I'd rather
prefer it if you didn't.'

‘But we want you to be remembered!' cried the mayor.

Barney gave a little smile. Perhaps he was thinking of Albert Hawkes.

‘It doesn't matter whether you're remembered or forgotten,' he said. ‘It doesn't matter what people think of you. The important thing is how you live. It was only in giving away all my pictures that my life became truly happy. I found O-Haru again and made many new friends. I found riches I had never dreamed of. No thank you, really, I don't need a statue.'

*

And to this very day if you go to Woodford you will search in vain for a statue of Barney Barrington, but because of his kindness and generosity to the little town he has always been remembered, remembered and loved.

 

The End

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