Go, Go, Guinea Pig! (Adventures of Harry Stevenson Book 3)

by Ali Pye

  Oohing and aahing as they went, the Smiths headed for the Metro, the city’s underground railway. Billy used a map in the station to find their route to the Christmas market, following the different coloured Metro lines on the map with his finger. Am I the first guinea pig down here? wondered Harry, as he sat next to Billy on a train. It didn’t take long to whizz under Paris, and soon the family were walking up the steps from the Metro. They could hear music, laughter and chatter nearby. Harry looked around when they reached the top. He saw a village of white tents, with crowds of people milling about.

  ‘The Christmas market!’ cried Mrs Smith, marching forward. ‘Come on!’ she called to Mr Smith and Billy.

  Harry sniffed the air. There were fine smells coming from the market. Billy and Mr Smith must have noticed them too, as they hurried after Mrs Smith. Soon the family was deep in the happy crowd. Harry looked out from Billy’s bag as they moved from stall to stall, enjoying everything they saw – and tasted!

  It was hard for Harry not to feel hungry as the Smiths tried everything on offer. Even though they’d had lots of pancakes, the market food was too good to miss. There were hot roasted chestnuts, gingerbread Christmas trees, candied fruit, pastries and cookies. Clouds of steam billowed from the stalls as chefs stirred giant cauldrons of onion soup, and dished up big plates of sliced potato, cheese and bacon. Harry wished there was a stall selling food for him too. His stomach growled.

  As the Smiths made their way through the market they passed some stalls where traders were shutting up for the day. Harry could see a greengrocer starting to pack vegetables away. He gazed hungrily at the display of carrots, cabbages and sprouts. Harry did like sprouts.

  ‘That’s just the normal, daytime bit of the market,’ said Mrs Smith. ‘We can see those things anytime. Look, there are more Christmassy stalls over there.’

  Oh, that’s a shame, thought Harry Stevenson, disappointed.

  The Smiths moved on. There was so much to see! They looked at wooden toys, pottery, woven baskets, jewellery, Christmas decorations and all sorts of clothing. Harry listened as his family discussed what to buy. He tried to be interested but his mind kept wandering back to those sprouts. By the time the Smiths reached a hat stall, he was feeling very hungry indeed.

  ‘Let’s all buy a hat!’ said Mrs Smith. ‘It’ll keep us warm AND be a souvenir. I’ve always fancied wearing a beret.’

  Harry watched as his family tried on hats. Then he watched as they tried on some more. There were a lot of hats to consider. Mr Smith thought he suited a trilby, although he quite liked a flat cap too. Mrs Smith looked swish in a furry beret, but she couldn’t decide which colour to get – or whether she should buy some furry gloves to match. As for Billy, he’d spotted a large rack of bobble hats in the shape of animals and was trying on every one.

  By now Harry was feeling bored as well as hungry. Billy had put his bag down, making it easy for Harry to jump out on to the floor. As usual, Harry’s greedy stomach rowed with Harry’s sensible brain about whether that would be a good idea or not – and, as ever, Harry’s stomach won! They’ll be here for ages yet, Harry thought. I’ll just nip over to the sprouts, have a quick nibble, and be back in the time it takes Mrs Smith to choose a hat.

  So Harry leaped out of the bag and scuttled under the stalls! He was soon at the vegetable stand. The grocer was dealing with his last few customers, so Harry wasted no time in scoffing as many sprouts and carrots as possible. He crouched down behind a box of sprouts and enjoyed a feast.

  Fantastique, thought Harry, his mouth full of sprouts. Right, I’d better find the Smiths again. They MUST have chosen their hats by now.

  Harry darted back through the market to the hat stand.

  But when he got back there, the Smiths had gone.

  He looked all around. The Smiths were nowhere to be seen.

  Harry Stevenson was lost in Paris!

  CHAPTER 9 Oh, no, Harry Stevenson!

  Harry Stevenson raced through the Christmas market, running here and there as he searched for the Smiths. He was careful to stay hidden as he didn’t want to get into even more trouble.

  I must find Billy, thought Harry.

  Then – at last! Harry spotted a trio of people, some way ahead of him. He couldn’t see their faces but they were wearing a beret, a trilby and a bobble hat. The Smiths! Harry raced after his family. It seemed to take ages to reach them – he had to keep dodging out of people’s way or hiding under market stalls to catch his breath.

  The Smiths headed out of the market into some nearby gardens, leaving its hustle and bustle behind. Soon the noise of the market had faded altogether. The gardens were quiet and lit by moonlight. The family stopped for a moment, meaning Harry could finally catch up.

  ‘WHEEK, WHEEK, WHEEK!’ called Harry Stevenson to them. ‘WHEEK, WHEEK, WHEEK!’

  The family turned – but to Harry’s dismay, he saw they weren’t the Smiths! He’d been following some strangers! He ducked out of sight into the shadows, not wanting to be seen by anyone but the Smiths. The family looked around, confused. Then they set off again, leaving Harry by himself in the cold.

  Harry Stevenson tiptoed out of the shadows and on to some grass. Where are you, Billy? He stood on his hind legs and peered across the gardens, but couldn’t spot his friend anywhere. Could he smell him, instead? Sniff, sniff, sniff. There was no scent of Billy, though – just a cool, fresh kind of smell, which made Harry think of clouds and water.

  Something tiny and white drifted on to Harry’s nose. It was a snowflake. Harry Stevenson had only seen snowflakes on TV before. Now one was melting on his fur! Soon more flakes fell, quicker and heavier. Harry looked up into the black, inky sky and saw billions of feathery dots tumbling and swirling towards him. On and on they came, falling silently in the dark. Harry gazed in wonder. Another snowflake landed on his furry nose and he licked it off. This must be what the sky tastes like, he thought. Harry gave a small popcorn of excitement, thrilled to taste something so strange. He kicked up his paws and danced in the snow.

  It didn’t take long for the snow to cover the ground. Harry crouched under a bench and shivered. It was getting colder, and water from the melted snowflakes was freezing on his whiskers. Now the snow didn’t seem quite so special. I must find somewhere warm and dry, thought Harry. Billy will never find me here. So off he ran, flitting through the shadows on quick, chilly paws. He hid under bushes, ducked below bins and scuttled behind fences. People passed within a whisker’s length, but never looked down to spot the little creature below them – in fact, everyone seemed to be staring up. They were pointing at something far above.

  Harry followed their gaze up, up, up… and up some more.

  Harry Stevenson stopped in his tracks. He blinked snow from his eyes and stared in amazement. Looming up ahead, like a massive pointy spaceship, was a huge structure, ablaze with lights. It was so big that Harry felt dizzy. He crouched down with fear, his little heart beating fast. It didn’t look that size in the guidebook, he thought. For there, in front of him, so much bigger in real life, was something he’d been looking for all day – the Eiffel Tower!

  CHAPTER 10 Who's that, Harry Stevenson?

  This is what an ant must feel like when it first sees a house, thought Harry Stevenson. Harry didn’t enjoy feeling ant-like, so he lowered his gaze to the ground. Under the Eiffel Tower’s great arches was a vast space, as big as the Sparky FC stadium, and in that space Harry spied a Christmas tree. The tree would have looked giant anywhere else, but here it seemed as small as the one in the Smiths’ flat. Next to the tree was some sort of shed, which glowed with a cosy-looking light. Harry Stevenson shivered. Brrr. The shed would be the perfect place to shelter until Billy found him, Harry decided.

  Harry scampered through the snow to the Tower, trying not to look up. He didn’t want to feel dizzy again. Soon he’d reached its base and took a quick look around. When the coast was clear, he darted across to the shed. The front of the shed was just a low fence for
some reason, but Harry didn’t stop to see why. He just needed to get into the warm! Harry wriggled through a gap in the walls and breathed a sigh of relief. Now he was safe from the cold. Even better, the shed was full of one of his favourite things: hay!

  Harry chose a quiet spot and snuggled down gratefully. There was a musky smell in the air, but he felt too cold to worry about it. He nibbled the last bits of snow off his fur, and brushed the melted ice from his whiskers. Phew, that’s better, he thought, heating up as he munched on a strand of hay. The hay was delicious. Harry could almost feel the warmth of sunny meadows flow into his body. He smacked his lips, just like someone tasting wine. Mmmmm! sighed Harry. I’m getting gold and honey flavours… a hint of lavender… and top notes of clover and daisies.

  As Harry chomped on the hay, he became aware that he was eating very noisily. A loud chewing sound filled the shed. I must be REALLY hungry to make such a racket, he thought. Harry tried to be quieter, but the sound continued. There was some loud breathing too. Strange. Harry stopped eating, and cocked his head to listen. There it was again! Well, that’s very odd, thought Harry. If I’M not making the noise – who is?

  Harry took a look around.

  Oh.

  Harry Stevenson wasn’t alone in the shed. Instead, he was sharing it with some large and decidedly musky-smelling shapes. Harry squinted at the shapes. It took a while to work out what they were – and even then, he needed to look again, just to make sure. He blinked a few times, in case there was still snow in his eyes – but, no, he was right. Well, thought Harry Stevenson. I never expected to see THAT in Paris. He studied the shapes curiously, taking in their shaggy pelts, their grand, branch-like antlers… and gentle reindeer faces!

  Harry had watched enough nature shows with Billy to know that reindeer lived in wild, snowy lands far away – so what were they doing in a city like Paris? Did reindeer have city breaks too? Luckily the reindeer didn’t seem to mind Harry scoffing their hay, and carried on chewing noisily. But the mystery deepened as Harry realized he too was being watched. Next to the reindeer was a big, carved chair – and in that chair sat a man, looking down at Harry with twinkly eyes. Normally, Harry would have shrunk into the hay with fear, but he didn’t feel scared at all. The man had a kind face and seemed strangely familiar. Hmm, puzzled Harry. Have I seen him before in a film? He looked the man up and down, hunting for clues. White beard, red coat, jolly face…

  Hang on…

  Is that… FATHER CHRISTMAS?!

  CHAPTER 11 Happy Christmas, Harry Stevenson?

  Harry Stevenson gazed at Father Christmas, a strand of hay dangling from his mouth. Getting lost, reindeer, Father Christmas – it was all too much for a tired little guinea pig. And, as if that wasn’t enough, the sound of laughter was now coming from the front of the shed. Harry turned around. There was a group of children leaning over the fence. They were excited about something and were giggling and pointing. With a start, Harry saw they were pointing at HIM!

  Harry was causing a bit of a stir. Well, it is quite unusual to see a guinea pig in a Christmas display. As more people spotted the excitement, the crowd around Santa’s Grotto (for that is what the ‘shed’ was) grew and grew. Soon people were taking photographs with their phones. Cameras flashed and dazzled Harry’s eyes. Flee, said Harry’s brain – but where to? He was so confused he couldn’t think properly. Then – thank goodness! Harry heard a voice he knew and loved.

  ‘HARRY!’ called the voice, and Harry looked towards it. There in the crowd was a face he loved: Billy’s!

  Harry ran towards the fence, but it was too high for him to jump over. Billy wasn’t tall enough to reach down to get him, either. As Harry looked up at Billy, he saw his friend’s eyes widen with surprise – and felt gentle hands pick him up.

  ‘WHEEEK, WHEEK, WHEEK!’ sang Harry Stevenson joyfully. For he knew exactly what was happening. Father Christmas was handing him to Billy!

  * * *

  Back in their hotel room, the Smiths were enjoying mugs of rich, creamy chocolat chaud. They were lying on the enormous hotel bed together, with Harry sitting on a pillow.

  ‘Only YOU could get lost in Paris, Harry,’ laughed Billy. Harry chirruped in reply. He felt very glad to be back with his family – especially as they’d bought him some sprouts from the Christmas market.

  ‘What shall we do tomorrow, then?’ asked Mrs Smith, reaching for her guidebook. ‘Another market, maybe?’

  ‘Erm, I’ve got a suggestion,’ said Mr Smith. And he handed Billy an envelope. ‘Here’s an early Christmas present, Billy. I hope you like it.’

  Harry watched as Billy opened the envelope. What could be inside?

  ‘WOW, DAD, THANKS!!’ yelled Billy. ‘That’s amazing!’

  He held up three tickets to the Sparky FC versus PSG match! They were really good seats too – in a box, with a meal as well, thrown in by Sparky FC as a thank you for Harry’s winning goal and crime-fighting exploits. Harry was invited too, of course.

  ‘You don’t mind this instead of a market, Mum?’ asked Billy anxiously.

  Harry looked towards Mrs Smith. What would she say? But to Harry’s surprise, Mrs Smith gave a great big smile.

  ‘Of course not, Billy,’ she said. ‘And to be honest, I’ve probably seen enough markets for a while after today’s drama.’

  ‘Your mum knew all along,’ winked Mr Smith. ‘She was just pretending not to, in case we spoiled the surprise.’

  Mrs Smith knows EVERYTHING, thought Harry admiringly.

  What a trip it had been! And there was even more to look forward to tomorrow. The Smiths lay back and sighed happily.

  ‘Father Christmas reuniting us was the best Christmas present ever,’ smiled Billy, as he stroked Harry’s nose.

  Harry Stevenson had to agree.

  Although… the sprouts definitely came a close second.

  Happy Christmas, Harry Stevenson!

  More from this Series

  The Adventures of Harry…

  Book 1

  Guinea Pig Superstar!

  Book 2

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Ali Pye is the author and illustrator of The Adventures of Harry Stevenson. These books were inspired by a real-life guinea pig (who turned out to be a girl and was re-named Harriet Stevenson).

  She lives in Twickenham with her husband, children, two guinea pigs: Beryl and Badger, and Saffy the dog.

  www.SimonandSchuster.co.uk/Authors/Ali-Pye

  First published in Great Britain in 2021 by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd

  Text, cover and interior illustrations copyright © 2021 Ali Pye

  This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.

  No reproduction without permission.

  All rights reserved.

  The right of Ali Pye to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988.

  Simon & Schuster UK Ltd

  1st Floor, 222 Gray’s Inn Road, London WC1X 8HB

  www.simonandschuster.co.uk

  www.simonandschuster.com.au

  www.simonandschuster.co.in

  Simon & Schuster Australia, Sydney

  Simon & Schuster India, New Delhi

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  PB ISBN 978-1-4711-7027-0

  EBook ISBN 978-1-4711-7028-7

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

 

 
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