The Bolds on Vacation

by David Roberts

  There was no going back now, thought Betty. It was now or never!

  Chapter 19

  Dog-Mad Debby had just finished what she was doing to Bobby and was standing back to admire her handiwork.

  “Yes. Brilliant, if I say so myself. You are now just the sort of dog some stupid, rich idiots will want to adorn their luxury homes with. You, my lovely, are going to earn me a small fortune. One of my best-ever forgeries! I just have to fake the Kennel Club paperwork and tomorrow I’ll shove you in a crate and sell you to the highest bidder at St Ives market. Then with the money I’ll buy myself a nice new handbag and a bottle of champagne.” She suddenly swung back round to poor Walter. “Something to wash down my spaghetti bolognaise with!” she shouted. “Happy days!”

  Bobby’s hopes of being rescued were fading fast. Could poor Pam really have got a message to his family? And even if she had, how could they rescue him? And would they even recognize him now that he looked so different?

  When the low mournful howl started, at first Debby thought it was coming from one of the dogs on the deck. “Stop that!” she said. “Who is making all that din?” Then she realized it was coming from somewhere nearby. She shuffled over to the rail and looked out to sea. “Who’s there?” she called.

  “Whooooh!” came the pitiful howl again. “Whoooh! A-whoooh!”

  Debby thrust her gnarled hand into her coat pocket and pulled out a pair of binoculars. She scanned the horizon, but it was now too dark to see. So she put the binoculars away and listened again.

  “AWOOOH! HOWWWOOO!”

  The cry was louder now. Realizing it was coming from the other side of the boat, Debby ran to the opposite deck and peered out across the still water. There, silhouetted against the moon, she saw it—a dog, maybe a puppy—standing on top of the nearby rock, its head tilted toward the stars. Can you guess who it was? Yes that’s right. Betty!

  “Ah!” said Debby. “How on earth did a dog get there?” She glanced back at the faraway shore. “Any dog who can swim that far must be a very fine specimen indeed! And that voice! If I can catch it and sell it as a guard dog I’ll have enough money for a dozen handbags!”

  She rubbed her hands together. “I’ll row over and collect it on my dinghy,” she muttered to herself, before herding, pushing, and kicking all the other dogs on the deck back down into the hold. Then she locked the door and, wheezing with excitement, turned the winch that lowered her small inflatable boat down to the water. Unsteadily she jumped in and untied the ropes.

  All this time the wolf-like cries continued from the dog on the rock. “Be patient, my lovely,” muttered Debby as she rowed toward the barren islet. “Debby is coming for you. Won’t be long now . . .”

  Once Debby was on her way, the second part of Mr. Bold’s plan sprang into action. Miranda held the ladder in place while first Mr. and Mrs. Bold, then Mr. McNumpty, Uncle Tony and Minnie climbed on board. Miranda shimmied to the top of the mast to act as a lookout.

  When they were all safely on the deck, Mr. Bold held his finger to his lips. “Shhh!” He indicated that they must make no noise whatsoever. But even at a time like this he couldn’t resist telling a joke.

  Then everyone had to try and laugh silently, which as you may know, is very difficult to do. In fact, knowing you can’t laugh or make any noise usually makes you laugh all the more. This is what happened, until Mrs. Bold almost keeled over, hugging her chest with one arm and covering her mouth with the other. Even so the occasional cackle escaped, but the fear of being discovered by Debby quickly sobered them up. A few seconds later everyone had recovered themselves enough for the serious business of the rescue to begin.

  As they listened to the fading sound of the dinghy approaching the rock where Betty stood howling away, Mr. Bold pulled himself together and reminded everyone that there was no time to lose.

  “Bobby is on board this boat and we’re not leaving without him,” he said.

  Suddenly they were all aware that Betty’s howling had stopped, which could only mean one thing. Debby had reached the rock—and Betty! Puffin Pam fluttered down to tell them as much.

  “Debby . . . rock . . .” she managed to say. “Quick!”

  Mr. Bold had instructed Betty to play for time. If Debby had gone to all the trouble of rowing over to the rock, he was sure she wouldn’t leave without her new acquisition.

  “We’d better get on,” said Mr. McNumpty impatiently. “Where has she put Bobby?”

  Uncle Tony sniffed the air. “Below deck,” he said.

  Led by Mr. Bold, they clambered down the ladder to the hold. Mr. Bold pressed his face to the door.

  “Bobby?”

  “Dad?”

  “Yes, son. We’re here to get you out. Don’t make any noise.”

  “OK,” answered Bobby, his voice quivering with emotion. “But the door is locked. And it’s not just me in here. There are six of us!”

  Chapter 20

  Debby had landed on the rock and was creeping up toward Betty.

  “Good dog, don’t worry!” she said, her tone suddenly transformed into a kindly, motherly voice, reassuring and enticing. “Come to Debby, good dog!” In her pocket was a large net. As soon as she got close enough she planned to throw the net over Betty—a technique she had used many times before. Once covered in the mesh, Betty would be helpless. Her captor would simply pull a rope, tighten the net, and drag her prize toward her like a spider snaring a fly.

  Betty played for time, moving as far away from her pursuer as the rock would allow. She perched on the edge, as if contemplating a dive into the water and a swim back to the shore, which caused Debby to back off, wait, and try to reassure the object of her desire.

  “Good dog! Biscuit?” Debby reached into her pocket and pulled out some tasty doggy treats. She held them in the palm of her hand and reached out toward Betty. “Here!” she cooed encouragingly. “What’s this then?”

  Betty pretended to be interested, all the while keeping one eye on the boat moored a few hundred feet behind Debby. She could just about see some figures creeping around on the deck, but she knew the rescue wasn’t over yet. She needed to string things out with Debby for a bit longer.

  Over on Debby’s boat, the dogs locked down in the hold began to bark excitedly when they heard a rescue attempt was underway, so Bobby calmed them all down and tried to keep them quiet.

  “Stand well away from the door, please!” said Mr. McNumpty. “I’m going to have to batter it down.” He took a few paces back and then charged, his shoulder forward, toward the cabin door. There was a loud thud, but the lock held firm. “Oof!” said Mr. McNumpty. “I’ll try again.”

  On his third attempt there was a satisfying splintery crunch, and the door flew open. The dogs were cowering at the far end, and Walter was covering his ears with his paws.

  “Bingo!” said Mr. McNumpty, rubbing his shoulder.

  “Everyone all right in here?” asked Mr. Bold, casting his eye over the motley collection of mutts.

  “Bobby?” said Mrs. Bold, worried still. “Where’s my Bobby? I can’t see him.”

  A long-haired blond creature shuffled forward. “I’m here, Mum,” he said.

  The voice sounded familiar, but this creature didn’t look anything like Bobby. Uncle Tony shone his torch over the dog from head to toe. The dog’s head was one big, ginger-ish pom-pom with two eyes popping through, and you could just about see his four feet underneath the long ash-blond ringlets that grew from his back right down to the ground. Behind him hung a very limp, string-like tail that was so long it trailed about a foot behind him.

  Minnie spoke first: “What on earth?”

  “What has that evil woman done to my baby?” cried Mrs. Bold.

  “She has made me into an Afghan hound, that’s what,” said Bobby crossly. “Can someone please get this horrible wig off my head and remove this silly, hairy onesie? It’s very itchy.”

  By now Mr. Bold had started giggling, and it was very infectious. “He looks l
ike a Persian cat that’s been through a washing machine,” he said.

  “He has rather let his hair down!” quipped Uncle Tony.

  Everyone was starting to laugh now, including the other captured dogs. Shrieking, whooping laughter that got steadily louder and louder.

  Just then Miranda leaped into the room. “Quick,” she said. “Debby on way back! She hear you laughing. She give up on Betty and rush back here. Very cross cross! Must hurry!”

  “What about Betty?” asked Mrs. Bold.

  “No know, no see,” she said.

  “Right. We thought we were just coming to rescue Bobby. But all of you dogs need to get off this boat, right?”

  “Yes please! Don’t leave us here with Debby!” chorused the other dogs. “We don’t want to end up looking like him,” they said, nodding toward Bobby.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Mr. McNumpty reassured them.

  “Let’s get everyone off the boat and onto the dolphins, quickly!” said Mr. Bold. “It’s going to be a bit crowded but we’ll manage somehow.”

  “Hurry!” cried Minnie. “There isn’t a moment to lose!”

  Everyone rushed up the stairs, followed by the Afghan hound (who was really Stinky, who was really Bobby, who was really a hyena) and the five other dogs. Across the water, halfway back from the rock, they could see Debby in her inflatable dinghy, rowing directly toward them.

  Miranda whistled to the dolphins who all bobbed about at the stern of the boat by the ladder, ready for their passengers.

  “Er, the thing is,” Mr. Bold explained to the dolphins, “there are another five dogs to be rescued, not just Bobby. Can you manage us all?”

  Galileo answered doubtfully, “Well, I’m not sure we can carry you all. And there are a number of health and safety regulations that I fear may be breached.”

  “Can you please try?” asked Mr. Bold desperately.

  But their conversation was suddenly interrupted. Debby had turned her head when she heard Miranda’s shrill whistle. “Oi!” she shouted gruffly. “Who’s on my boat? Get off NOW!” And she began to row much faster. “I’ll get ya!” she yelled. “Who are ya? Pesky pirates?”

  “Quick, everyone pick up a dog each,” instructed Mr. Bold, “and let’s get out of here as fast as we can.”

  The ladder down to the water was very narrow and only one person at a time could descend. Uncle Tony went first, but he was elderly and clutching a cockapoo under one arm, which meant he only had one hand to hold onto the ladder, so it was slow progress. When he finally reached the bottom he gingerly placed one foot on a dolphin’s back, before stepping off with the other. He then crouched down while holding onto the bewildered dog and gripped hold of the fin on the dolphin’s back.

  “Right. I’ve done it,” he said shakily, and the dolphin swam steadily off with the heavy load on his back, and the next dolphin took her place by the ladder.

  Galileo, who was swimming around directing the proceedings from the water, popped his head up. “Could I just point out that time is of the essence here? If we all take as long as Uncle Tony just has, that rather unsavory woman will have time to get back on board and make herself a cheesy omelette before you are all safely disembarked.”

  Galileo was right. Debby was only about seventy-five feet away now, splashing furiously and still yelling threats and insults.

  Next in line was Mrs. Bold, carrying a panting King Charles spaniel. Amelia transferred herself to her dolphin and was off, but there was still Mr. Bold, Minnie, Mr. McNumpty, and Miranda to go, not to mention Bobby and three other dogs—and Debby was almost upon them.

  “We’re not going to make it in time!” cried Minnie.

  I’m afraid it was true. Debby had now reached the boat and was waving an oar in the air, trying to swipe at Mr. Bold, who was attempting to get to the ladder with a Jack Russell under his arm.

  “I’ll get you! Rob me of my dogs, will you? We’ll see about that!” She was red in the face, and if she had her way, she would do the intruders some serious harm with the wooden oar she was swinging about.

  “This is quite an oar-deal,” said Mr. Bold.

  Galileo, who together with the other dolphins had retreated a few yards out of Debby’s range, called out, “Only solution—you’ll all have to run to the bow of the boat and jump in the water! We’ll convene with you there. But I’m not even sure we will be able to carry you all.”

  “Right-o!” said Mr. Bold. “Do your best. Everyone hear that? Come on, quick as you can. Up to the front. We’re going to have to jump overboard.”

  “Yikes!” said Miranda.

  “We can do it,” said Mr. Bold. “But we’ll have to be quick.”

  Everyone ran to the bow of the boat and peered over the side into the gloomy water below.

  “Quick! Jump!” said Mr. Bold.

  “Ready when you are, chaps!” called Galileo. “I’d get a wiggle on if I were you. Debby is halfway up the ladder now.”

  “But we must get the other dogs too!” cried Minnie desperately. The dogs were bewildered by all the frantic activity, and getting hold of them again took time. Time they didn’t have.

  Finally Minnie got hold of Walter and climbed on the rail with Miranda clinging to her arm.

  “Me hold your nose,” Miranda offered kindly, and her little monkey fingers held Minnie’s nostrils firmly shut.

  “On the count of three!” said Mr. Bold. “One, two, three!”

  Minnie leaped forward, and a second later there was a loud splash as she landed in the sea. By the time she reached the surface, Galileo had slid expertly underneath her and he, Minnie, Walter, and Miranda were on their way back to shore.

  This left Mr. McNumpty, Mr. Bold, and Bobby on the deck, clutching the last two remaining dogs—the Jack Russell and a black Labrador-cross-setter. But it was too late. Just as they were about to follow Minnie over the side of the boat there was a loud, angry grunt behind them. Debby had made it on to the deck, and with a deep, rasping breath she charged toward them, the wooden oar aimed firmly at their heads.

  Suddenly, out of desperation, instinct took over Mr. McNumpty, Bobby, and Mr. Bold—and transformed them. What sort of instinct do you think it was? That’s correct. ANIMAL instinct! They put down the dogs they were carrying, and what Debby saw next stopped her in her tracks.

  Mr. Bold was on all fours, his head lowered, eyes flashing, teeth bared. Bobby was a mini version of his father. They charged toward Debby, a fierce hunting cry piercing the air. Then Mr. McNumpty suddenly seemed twice as tall, his arms raised above his head as he bellowed in full grizzly fashion.

  Within a second the three animals had overpowered the now terrified Debby. Mr. McNumpty held her in a vice-like bear hug, Mr. Bold looked as if he were about to sink his fangs into her, and Bobby sniffed at her, then pulled a disgusted face.

  “Yuck!” he said.

  “Gotcha!” growled Nigel McNumpty.

  “Let me go! You animals!” hissed Debby, struggling to get free.

  “Shall we tie her up and then jump onto the dolphins?” asked Bobby, peering over the side of the boat.

  “Er, problemo!” said Galileo. “Three dolphins have set off for the shore, fully loaded up and I’ve sent another to collect young Betty. Only me and my friend Socrates left, I’m afraid, and we can’t manage all three of you and the dogs. Only solution I can come up with is you stay on board. Dump Debby on the rock and then sail the boat to the beach. We’ll all meet there.”

  “We’ve never piloted a boat before!” said Mr. McNumpty. “We are a couple of hyenas and a bear, remember.”

  “Piece of cake, old chap!” said Galileo. “You don’t have to sail it anyway; there’s an engine. Just pull up the anchor, start the engine and aim for the shore. What could possibly go wrong?”

  To begin with, everything went smoothly. While Bobby guarded Debby, growling and snapping at her every time she so much as twitched, Mr. McNumpty and Mr. Bold managed to raise the anchor and then steer the boat to the ro
ck. They had rather enjoyed behaving wildly and ferociously again. As soon as the boat reached the rock, a terrified Debby leaped off it, swimming the last few yards to safety, and sat huddled alone as far from them as possible while the animals set sail for the shore.

  “Good riddance!” shouted Bobby.

  Finally, all the drama of Bobby’s rescue seemed to be over.

  “Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Mr. McNumpty,” said Bobby with a sigh. “I always knew you’d come to save me.”

  “No problem, son!” said Mr. Bold. “We missed you so much. Your poor mother was beside herself.”

  “And I missed her, and you and Betty and everyone as well. I even missed your terrible jokes!”

  “In that case,” said Mr. Bold eagerly, “you’ll be wanting to hear some more as soon as possible . . .”

  Everyone groaned.

  Fred, Bobby, and Mr. McNumpty were now laughing so much they didn’t realize how close they were to the shore. It was only when Galileo leaped out of the water alongside them and shouted, “Land ahoy, chaps!” that they noticed.

  “Oops!” said Mr. McNumpty.

  “Where are the brakes on this thing?” asked Mr. Bold.

  But it was too late. With a sickening crunch the boat ran aground. There was a loud creak and it slowly lolloped over onto one side.

  Bobby looked down at his feet and saw water seeping through the planks. “Oh no, Dad!” he said. “You’ve wrecked the boat!”

  “Abandon ship!” said Mr. Bold. But as they were already on the beach, it only took a couple of leaps and finally Fred, Mr. McNumpty, Bobby, and the two rescued dogs were safely on dry land again.

  “I might have wrecked the boat,” said Mr. Bold, “but at least that means an end to Debby’s dog-napping activities, if ever she gets off that rock.”

  “Every cloud has a silver lining,” chuckled Mr. McNumpty, giving his pal a hug.