The Adventures of Nanny Piggins (10 page)

So she and the children spent the next two hours helping Boris climb up the outside of the house and in through the attic window. (He couldn't go up the staircase without passing Mr Green in the living room.) It was a noisy operation because Nanny Piggins had to use a chainsaw to make the window bigger. But Boris was soon in and safely hidden.

'Right, now we just have to find your father a hobby,' said Nanny Piggins.

'Do we really?' asked Derrick. 'Couldn't we just leave him alone?' Derrick sometimes went for months without speaking to his father and he found he quite liked it that way.

'The doctor said he had to find a relaxing hobby. Besides, the sooner he relaxes the sooner he will go back to work and then the rest of us can relax,' reasoned Nanny Piggins.

'But what sort of hobby would Father like?' asked Samantha.

'Good question,' said Nanny Piggins as she pondered the problem. 'Knowing your father, it has to be a really boring one. He only seems to be interested in boring things.'

'How about cooking?' suggested Derrick.

'That's not boring. Besides, if he cooked something he might expect us to eat it. We don't want to risk that,' said Nanny Piggins.

'How about jogging?' suggested Samantha.

'That
is
boring. But it would make him healthier. And we don't want that. It would only make him live longer,' Nanny Piggins pointed out.

'I've got it! How about stamp collecting?' suggested Michael.

'Stamp collecting? That's not a hobby,' protested Nanny Piggins.

'Yes it is,' argued Michael. 'I read about it in a book. People used to do it back in the olden days.'

'The things people used to do before television. It's heart-breaking,' observed Nanny Piggins, shaking her head.

So Nanny Piggins and the children gave Mr Green a scrapbook and a large pile of stamps, which they had obtained by following the postman as he delivered the mail, then tearing the stamps off the envelopes before the people in the houses came out to collect them. And for the first time in years, Mr Green was actually delighted with something other than tax law. He took the stamps and the scrapbook up to his bedroom so he could enjoy them in peace, without having to look at his children.

'That ought to keep him quiet for a few hours. Perhaps Boris will have time to climb down and play handball with us in the garden,' mused Nanny Piggins.

But it was not to be. She was just fetching the ladder and the chainsaw to get Boris out when she heard screams coming from Mr Green's bedroom. Nanny Piggins and the children rushed up the stairs to see what had happened

'The ceiling is falling in!' Mr Green screamed when they burst in through the door. And there was indeed a large slab of ceiling lying in the middle of his bed, across Mr Green's lap. As well as dust and dirt everywhere. Mr Green's new stamp collection had been either ruined by the fallen ceiling, or blown about the room by the impact.

'I heard a scream, then stamping and then the ceiling fell right on me!' yelled Mr Green. 'Which one of you children was playing in the attic?'

Nanny Piggins was not about to admit that there was a bear in the attic so she hastily concocted a cover story. 'I was in the attic,' she declared. 'I was practising my line-dancing. I didn't think you would mind. Because there was nothing in my contract forbidding me from line-dancing in the attic when you were home sick from work. But if you tell me now that you would prefer that I didn't, then I shall never do it again.'

'Of course I don't want you line-dancing in the attic,' yelled Mr Green, because he really could be very disagreeable when he put his mind to it.

A short time later Nanny Piggins had calmed Mr Green down and got him settled in the kitchen, where he was trying his hand at flower-arranging. Nanny Piggins had assured him this was a very relaxing hobby, much better than stamp collecting because there was less danger of paper cuts.

Meanwhile, the children had smuggled Boris out of the attic. He explained that the only reason he had stamped a hole through the floor (floor to him but ceiling to Mr Green) was because he had seen a spider. And that he had always been afraid of spiders and surely Mr Green should be grateful that someone was trying to exterminate them from the house.

The children decided to hide Boris in the cellar instead. He could stamp as much as he liked down there because the floor was made of earth and could not give way. There was the small matter of Boris' fear of darkness to overcome but the children soon solved that by lending Boris a torch.

And so peace was again restored to the household. Mr Green happily arranged gladioli in the kitchen while Boris was safely hidden where he could not possibly be found. Sadly the peace did not last long. Mr Green was just adding the final sprig to his display when a hole was suddenly punched up through the floor beneath him. As a result, the table leg fell into the hole and his beautiful flower arrangement slid offthe table, through the hole and into the cellar.

'What in the blazes is going on?' Mr Green screamed.

It took all of Nanny Piggins's flattery and half a bottle of brandy to calm him down again. Eventually, Nanny Piggins left Mr Green lying on the sofa with a wet flannel over his face and went to find out for herself what had happened.

Boris and the children were sitting on the back step. The children were patting him and feeding him chocolate biscuits to calm his nerves.

'What happened?' asked Nanny Piggins.

'The batteries in the torch ran out and everything went dark. So Boris panicked and punched a hole up through the floor,' explained Samantha.

'I told you I don't like the dark,' said Boris sadly. He really did look quite pitiful. If he had not been covered in brown fur, he would have been as white as a sheet.

'There, there, dear. We'll sort something out,' Nanny Piggins assured him.

'But what are we going to do?' asked Derrick despairingly. 'Who knows how long Father will be at home trying to relax. He doesn't seem to be very good at it, and a 10-foot dancing bear who is afraid of spiders and the dark is a lot harder to hide than you would think.'

'True, very true,' agreed Nanny Piggins.

The five of them sat and thought very hard for a full five minutes. Michael thought of ice-cream. But the rest of them thought of either restful hobbies for Mr Green or huge, well-lit hiding places for Boris.

'I've got it!' exclaimed Nanny Piggins.

'Got what?' asked Samantha.

'I know how we can kill two birds with one stone,' Nanny Piggins declared.

'Oh please, don't kill any birds on my account. I'm a vegetarian,' said Boris.

'It's a figure of speech,' explained Nanny Piggins. 'I mean, I know how to help Mr Green relax and hide Boris at the same time.'

* * *

Later that afternoon Nanny Piggins, the children, and Boris (as he crouched hidden under a large pile of dirty laundry in the laundry basket) sat on the back doorstep watching Mr Green. Mr Green was really enjoying himself. He had a cordless telephone in one hand and the telephone book in the other. When he was not bossing people about on the phone, he was yelling at three workmen who were busily constructing an enormous garden shed.

'What on earth did you say to Father?' asked Derrick. 'You seem to have completely cured him.'

'I suggested he take up gardening,' said Nanny Piggins simply.

'But he hates getting his hands dirty,' said Samantha.

'And he doesn't like plants,' added Michael.

'And he detests sunshine,' added Derrick.

'Yes, but he loves buying things. And there is so much equipment to buy to be a gardener. You need spades, forks, hoes and, of course, a shed,' said Nanny Piggins, pointing to the construction.

'It's huge,' observed Samantha.

'Your father always has to have the best. I'm sure he'll be boasting all about his shed to everyone at work tomorrow,' said Nanny Piggins.

'He's going back to work tomorrow?' asked Michael, completely failing to hide his delight.

'Of course, you can't expect a man to buy a shed as impressive as that and not go in to work to boast about it,' said Nanny Piggins

'But he's not actually going to do any gardening, is he?' asked Derrick, slightly concerned that his father might dig up the lawn and destroy their cricket pitch.

'Goodness no, he won't have time when he goes back to work, will he?' explained Nanny Piggins with a wink.

'Nanny Piggins, you're a genius,' exclaimed Derrick.

'True, very true,' muttered Nanny Piggins contently as she sipped on her lemonade.

'But what about me?' whispered Boris.

They had completely forgotten about him. The dirty laundry was such a convincing disguise.

'Well, isn't it obvious?' said Nanny Piggins. 'You're going to live in your brand new home: Mr Green's shed. It's well lit so you needn't be afraid of the dark. It's brand new so there won't be any spiders. And after today Mr Green will never go anywhere near it again.'

'My own shed,' sobbed Boris. 'If my friends in Russia could see me now, they would be so jealous.' Boris broke down completely again, but this time he was crying tears of joy. Fortunately Mr Green was so enjoying bossing the workmen around he did not even notice the shuddering pile of dirty laundry.

Nanny Piggins
and the Ringmaster's Revenge

Nanny Piggins was spending a pleasant morning helping the children forge sick notes. Technically there was no need for forgery – Nanny Piggins was the children's nanny so she could legitimately write the notes herself. But Nanny Piggins believed that learning to forge sick notes was an important life skill. As a boring old person once said: 'Give a man a fish and he'll eat for a day, teach a man to fish and he'll never go hungry again.' Or, in this case, teach a child to forge a sick note and he will never have to go to school on cross-country day again. Nanny Piggins was not a great fan of exercise at the best of times. But the idea of forcing children to run great distances across open countryside was, to her mind, a barbaric torture that ought to be made illegal.

Nanny Piggins was just showing Michael how to get exactly the right flourish in the capital G of Mr Green's signature (she had mastered this herself when they had needed a cheque to replace the Ming vase broken while playing dodgeball at The City Museum) when someone knocked loudly on the front door. This person had to knock because Nanny Piggins had disconnected the doorbell to discourage the truancy officer. Although, from the loudness of this knock, it was clear they were not going to be so easily deterred.

'Who's that?' asked Boris in a muffled voice. Muffled, because he was practising yoga, so his legs were bent back over his head at the time. Boris was very good at yoga. Being the best ballet-dancing bear in the world, he was very flexible.

'Shhh,' whispered Nanny Piggins. 'Everyone be quiet while I peek through the curtains and see if it's the truancy officer.'

The truancy officer had become well known at the Green house since Nanny Piggins had become their nanny. Nanny Piggins did not often pull the children out of school. But when she did, it was always for blatantly illegitimate reasons. Like the time she burst into Headmaster Pimplestock's office at two o'clock in the afternoon insisting that the children had to come home instantly because their aunt had just died of spontaneous combustion. The headmaster dutifully sent for the children and packed them off with his heartfelt condolences. Then later that day, he saw Michael, Samantha and Derrick on the television, cheering loudly at the horse races. Ever since then the truancy officer had been a regular visitor.

Nanny Piggins crept along the floor and popped her head up so she could see over the windowsill. (There were lace curtains so she could see out but outsiders could not see in.) Nanny Piggins could not recognise the visitor immediately because they had their back to her, with their face pressed up against the frosted glass of the front door. From the little she could see, Nanny Piggins could tell it was not the truancy officer. The truancy officer was a freakishly tall woman, whereas this appeared to be an unusually short man. Nanny Piggins believed it was beyond the capabilities of the truancy officer to disguise herself so well. But then, as the unusually short man stepped back, Nanny Piggins suddenly recognised him. She recoiled in horror.

'Oh Dear Chocolate! He's found me!' she exclaimed.

'What's wrong?' asked Samantha.

'Who is it?' asked Boris.

'Is it a new truancy officer?' asked Michael.

'It's worse than the truancy officer,' declared Nanny Piggins.

'How can anybody be worse than the truancy officer?' asked Derrick.

This was the first time the children had seen their nanny genuinely frightened. And her being frightened made them feel frightened.

'It's the Ringmaster from the circus!' cried Nanny Piggins.

The children gasped in shock. Boris yelped with fear and hid behind the curtains.

'But how did he find you?' asked Samantha with amazement.

'Who knows. The secret service, phone tapping, satellite tracking . . . I wouldn't put anything past him,' said Nanny Piggins as she dabbed her forehead with a handkerchief.

The children crawled over to the window to have a peek. They wanted to see this evil genius for themselves. But no sooner had they raised their eyes above the windowsill than they, too, recoiled in horror. The Ringmaster had his face pressed against the outside of the glass trying to look in.

'What does he want?' whispered Michael.

'Isn't it obvious? What would any self-respecting Ringmaster want with an internationally famous flying pig?' declared Nanny Piggins.

The children did not know.

'He wants to take me back to the circus to be the star attraction and make lots and lots of money,' explained Nanny Piggins.

'The cad,' said Derrick.

'What are you going to do?' asked Samantha. 'You aren't going to let him take you, are you?'

'Of course I'm not going to let him take me,' snapped Nanny Piggins. 'What kind of pig do you think I am? All we need is an ingenious plan.'

'Do you have one?' asked Michael. He loved all of Nanny Piggins' plans, especially ones that involved chocolate.

'You could drop a piano on his head,' suggested Boris from behind the curtain.

'Hmm.' Nanny Piggins considered this. 'Th at idea does have merit but we don't have a piano. And how would we get him to stand still while we went out, bought a piano, dragged it up the stairs and shoved it out a window directly above him? No, we'll have to think of something else.'

'You'd better think of something quickly,' said Derrick as he took another peek out the window, 'because he's climbing in through the upstairs bathroom window.'

'Typical, you can never trust circus folk,' muttered Nanny Piggins.

'But you're circus folk,' said Samantha.

'Exactly,' said Nanny Piggins. 'And how many times have you seen me climb in through Mrs Simpson's bathroom window when we've needed to borrow a cup of sugar or her television guide?'

All the children knew this happened quite a lot. Indeed Mrs Simpson knew it happened quite a lot. But Nanny Piggins was always very generous about giving her bottles of wine out of Mr Green's cellar and scaring away Mrs Simpson's grandchildren when they came to visit. So Mrs Simpson did not begrudge Nanny Piggins the sugar or the loan of the television guide.

As Nanny Piggins and the children listened they heard a thud, then a toilet flush, then a thump, then the sound of a short man swearing. The Ringmaster had obviously made it into the house.

'Children, you must prepare yourself,' whispered Nanny Piggins. 'I am about to engage in a battle of wits with an evil man whose extreme cunning is matched only by my own. You may hear me say some things that are not in the strictest sense true. Your job is to support these fictional accounts to the best of your ability. Do you understand?'

The children did not really understand but they said yes anyway, because they sensed that the least they could do was be supportive.

They held their breath as they listened to the Ringmaster creep down the stairs. The children did not know what to expect next but they assumed the Ringmaster would yell angrily and threaten them with a big stick. That is what their father would do and they assumed all wicked men were much the same. So it came as a complete surprise to them when the door swung open and the Ringmaster burst in with a big smile, saying, 'Sarah Piggins! Darling, where have you been? I've been so worried.' He then took Nanny Piggins in his arms and kissed her twice on each cheek.

The children looked at Nanny Piggins in open-mouthed awe, waiting to see what she would do. And of course, being Nanny Piggins, she did not disappoint them. She stomped hard on the Ringmaster's foot, saying, 'I have never seen you before in my life. I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about.'

You had to hand it to Nanny Piggins, she was never cowardly when it came to inventing an alternative to the truth.

'Sarah Piggins, how can you say that when we have worked together for so many happy years?' protested the Ringmaster. Still smiling, even as he rubbed his crushed toes.

'Sarah Piggins?' said Nanny Piggins. 'My name is not Sarah Piggins. My name is Katerina Mueller-stock.'

'Sarah Piggins, really,' said the Ringmaster, wagging his finger at her as though she was just a naughty little girl and not a fully grown pig with a genius for deceit. 'I think I know the world's greatest flying pig when I see her.'

'Sarah Piggins . . . Sarah Piggins . . .' mused Nanny Piggins. 'That name is vaguely familiar. Now where have I heard it before?' She rubbed her snout as she pondered this. 'I do have an identical twin sister called Sarah Piggins. And I seem to recall that she decided to pursue a career in flying. That must be it. You must have mistaken me for my twin sister. I'm terribly sorry I stomped on your foot. If I had known you were a friend of my sister's when you broke into our home and burst in upon us, I would have merely given you a nipple cripple.'

'Your twin sister?' said the Ringmaster. 'What an amazing story. Of course it is impossible to prove whether or not it is true.'

'Not even with DNA testing,' said Nanny Piggins, for she had read a lot about genetics. It is important to know what is scientifically possible when you hide your identity.

'But in a way, if I was a callous man,' said the Ringmaster with an evil glint in his eye, leaving them all in no doubt that he
was
a callous man, 'it would not matter to me whether you were Sarah Piggins or Sarah Piggins' twin sister. If you are an identical twin then you would have the same weight, size and shape. So you would be just as good at being fired out of a cannon.'

'But you can't force someone to do something they don't want to do!' protested Derrick.

'Oh yes I can!' exclaimed the Ringmaster. 'Especially when they have signed an exclusive, binding fifty-year contact!' With that he whipped a bundle of papers out of his pocket and showed them to the children. It clearly had 'Exclusive, Binding Fifty-Year Contract' at the top and Nanny Piggins' distinctive signature at the bottom.

'According to the terms of the contract,' said the Ringmaster as he took out his reading glasses and read from the papers, 'I am legally entitled to scoop Sarah Piggins up, put her in a sack and drag her back to the circus whether she wants to come or not.'

The children looked at the small print and this was indeed what it said. Circus contracts are notoriously broad.

'How unfortunate for my sister that she did not seek legal advice before signing such a criminally insane contract,' said Nanny Piggins. 'Indeed, knowing how cunningly ingenious my sister is, I can't help but wonder whether her chocolate cake was drugged to make her sign.' Nanny Piggins glared at the Ringmaster meaningfully.

'Sadly it is very hard to prove whether a chocolate cake was drugged years after it was eaten,' said the Ringmaster. 'The fact is I need a flying pig. Attendances have been down since she ran away. Even replacing that stupid ballet-dancing bear with flamenco-dancing flamingos didn't draw bigger crowds.' (The curtains twitched as he said this because Boris was standing behind them shaking with rage.) 'I am not going to rest until I have a flying pig.' With that, the Ringmaster marched to the door. 'Good-day, Katerina. I shall return this evening at eight pm. Please be packed and ready to leave.' Then, with a dramatic flourish, he bowed, spun around, put his hat on and left. Circus folk know how to leave a room.

'What are we going to do?' wailed Samantha.

'You can't go back to the circus. You just can't,' protested Michael.

'I can't believe he didn't want me back as well,' sobbed Boris, still behind the curtains.

'I thought you didn't want to go back?' said Michael.

'I don't want to go back. But I wanted him to want me to go back,' weeped Boris. Samantha hugged his leg kindly.

'Do you think he really believed you were your own twin sister?' asked Derrick.

'I don't see why not. Never underestimate the stupidness of a stupid person,' said Nanny Piggins.

'I thought you said he was a cunning genius?' said Samantha.

'Even cunning geniuses can be stupid sometimes,' said Nanny Piggins. 'In fact they are often more stupid than ordinary people. Look at Einstein. He came up with the theory of relativity. But he was too stupid to get a haircut.'

'The Ringmaster didn't even care if you weren't you. He was threatening to take you anyway,' wailed Samantha.

'Yes, I picked up on that. There are no depths circus folks won't sink to,' said Nanny Piggins.

'But you're a circus folk,' pointed out Michael for the second time.

'I know,' admitted Nanny Piggins, 'and I am ashamed to admit this. But I, too, have used my circus powers for evil.'

'How?' asked Derrick, scandalised but excited as well.

'I once had myself fired through an open window at the cinema just so I wouldn't have to pay for the ticket,' confessed Nanny Piggins.

'Oh gosh!' said Samantha.

'I know, I'm not proud of it,' confessed Nanny Piggins. 'Although I am proud of my landing. I did a perfect somersault into an empty seat in the middle of the back row. I didn't disturb anyone, unlike those people who actually walk in front of people to get to their seats.'

'What are we going to do about the Ringmaster?' asked Derrick.

'Don't worry,' said Nanny Piggins. 'I have a plan.'

'Already?' exclaimed Michael, deeply impressed.

'Oh yes,' said Nanny Piggins. 'I can regale people with anecdotes from my sordid past and think at the same time.'

Apparently Nanny Piggins' plan involved going shopping because, without any further explanation, she ushered the children and Boris into Mr Green's car (after getting the key out of Mr Green's desk by forcing the lock with a sledgehammer) and drove off in the direction of the markets. Fortunately Mr Green's car had a sun roof, so even though he was 10 foot tall, Boris was able to comfortably sit in the front seat. The suspension just sagged a bit on his side.

The markets were of the large, covered variety. There were hundreds of stalls selling everything from imported T-shirts, guaranteed to both shrink and fall apart the first time you wash them, to electronic games that only took the most inconvenient-sized batteries, to jellied eels. If it was not for the imminent kidnapping of their beloved nanny, the children would have enjoyed having a look around. But on this occasion they were not allowed that luxury.