Chapter 21
Betty had been delivered to the beach ahead of the others. She thanked her dolphin very much, wrapped herself in a towel and paced up and down, peering out toward the horizon and feeling decidedly anxious and lonely. She wanted, more than anything, to see her twin brother, Bobby, again. He was annoying sometimes, but she had missed him terribly and she wanted him home safely.
When the boat crashed she held her breath but then leaped with joy when she saw everyone step safely ashore.
“Bobby!” she called, splashing into the waves to greet him.
“Betty!” cried her brother, and the twins hugged each other, rolling around on the sand and chasing about, greeting each other in what I can only describe as true, natural hyena fashion.
Everyone was thrilled to be back on dry land. They all gave three hearty cheers to Galileo and the school of dolphins.
Mr. Bold thought it appropriate to make a speech. “Ahem! Dear dolphins, one and all—you have been a vital part of tonight’s rescue, as has Pamela the puffing puffin, and we can’t thank you all enough. If it hadn’t been for your help, these dogs would have had a very grim future and we, as a family, would have spent the rest of our days searching for Bobby. How can we ever thank you?”
“Well, thank you too, for all you do for animals everywhere,” called Galileo from the shallow water where he and his dolphin friends were listening attentively. “No acts of kindness go unnoticed, I’m here to tell you. We animals must all stick together. It’s the only way to get things done. You know that. We dolphins know that. Deep down, everyone knows it. Even humans!
“And the second most important thing in the world, after kindness, is to HAVE FUN! So tell us another of your highly amusing jokes, please!”
“Very well!” said Mr. Bold. “How about a limerick this time, as it’s a special occasion?”
The dolphins all clapped their enthusiasm. (In the Christmas cracker industry, limericks are reserved for the most expensive, top-of-the-range crackers.)
“Very well, here goes!”
The limerick went down very well, and after the applause stopped another was asked for.
“One more, please!” begged Galileo appreciatively.
“More! More! More!” chorused the other dolphins.
“Er, we ought to get going,” interjected Mrs. Bold. “Everyone’s rather cold, and Walter’s teeth are chattering. We must get back to the tent and dry ourselves off.”
“Quite right,” said Mr. Bold. “And we’d better leave before any questions are asked about what remains of Debby’s boat.”
“And I’ll phone the Coast Guard and say that I think I spotted a woman sitting on a rock out at sea,” said Mrs. Bold.
“But, Mum, she doesn’t deserve rescuing,” argued Betty. “She dog-napped Bobby, don’t forget!”
“As evil as she is, we wouldn’t want her to die of pneumonia, would we?” reasoned her mother. “We animals are not as cruel as humans, Betty. Please don’t forget that.”
“Just one last limerick, then we had better say our good-byes,” said Mr. Bold.
Everyone thanked the dolphins again, who then did a spectacular leaping, spinning, and diving display as they swam back out to sea.
At last the Bolds and the rescued dogs piled into the car—a dripping, steaming, tired carload—and soon they were back in the tent at Sunnyside Campsite. It was rather late, and by the time everyone had changed out of their wet clothes and the dogs had all been given a good rub-down with towels, they realized how hungry they all were.
“I don’t have much dog food, I’m afraid,” said Mrs. Bold, looking in the food box. “In fact, I don’t have any. And the shop isn’t open now. I’m going to have to improvise with what I’ve got. Then we’ll all share it. Who knows what it will taste like . . . Now let me see . . .”
Mrs. Bold got a big bowl, into which she put everything she could find:
Two cans of baked beans
Six eggs
A bar of chocolate
Half a loaf of sliced bread
A carton of skim milk
A dozen cooked sausages
Some strawberries
A bag of Brussels sprouts (uncooked)
A packet of biscuits
Three big packets of prawn cocktail crisps
A bottle of ketchup
A jar of peanut butter
Half a bottle of lemonade
She then mixed it all up and simmered it in a saucepan on a low heat for twenty minutes. She tasted it, thought for a moment, then added some salt and pepper. The taste is difficult to describe, even for a talented writer like myself. Let’s just say it was unusual.
“A sensation!” declared Amelia. “I don’t have enough plates or bowls, I’m afraid,” she said to all the hungry faces looking up at her, “so I’ll just put it in a bowl down on the floor in the middle and we can all dive in. Animal fashion.”
It’s just as well that it was late and all their camping neighbors were asleep, because it was a rather vulgar sight.
“What is it, exactly?” asked Minnie, looking doubtfully at the pinky brown slop that was spilling over the side of the bowl.
“Um. Well,” said Mrs. Bold. “It’s, er, a Cornish recipe I’ve just invented. Let’s call it the Chef’s Surprise.”
“It’ll be a surprise if we can eat it!” muttered Mr. McNumpty.
But everyone was so hungry they soon got stuck in, taking turns to slurp up the concoction (apart from Minnie who, being the only human there, insisted on using a spoon.)
“Delicious!” declared Uncle Tony, licking his lips.
“Is there any more?” asked Bobby.
“I’m afraid that’s the lot,” said Mrs. Bold. “Although I have got some mints if anyone needs something to freshen the palate?”
But after such an adventurous, dramatic night, everyone was exhausted, and the sudden need to sleep was quite overpowering.
“In the morning we’ll sort out getting you dogs back to your owners,” announced Mr. Bold, as everyone started to yawn. “But for now, well, we’ll all have to sleep in the tent wherever we can find a space.”
Several of the dogs were already fast asleep by now, curled up right where they’d been sitting. The bigger dogs slept just outside the tent—on guard, just in case Debby managed to track them down. And little Walter found a cozy spot inside Minnie’s sleeping bag with her.
As everyone settled down, Mr. Bold managed just one goodnight joke.
His audience was too tired to laugh, he told himself, but everyone fell asleep with a contented smile on their lips. And within a couple of seconds Mr. Bold was snoring too.
Chapter 22
The next morning some of the dogs woke up with a stomachache, for which they blamed last night’s Chef’s Surprise. In fact, there were several emergency dashes to the sand dunes . . .
The shop was open, so a more conventional breakfast was bought and eaten; then Mr. Bold took out a paper and pen and asked each of the rescued dogs where they lived.
“Forty-one Fairfield Road, Teddington!” said Bobby.
“Yes, dear, we know where you live,” said Mrs. Bold. “But what about the others? Walter?”
Walter was still sleepy and peeped his snout out from Minnie’s jumper. “I don’t know if I can remember,” he said vaguely. “It’s been a week since Debby stole me. I was asleep in my owner’s handbag on the beach,” he recalled. “Then she lifted me up, and put me in a big sack. Oh, it was horrible. Horrible!” He retreated back inside the jumper.
“Well, can you describe the house you lived in?” coaxed Betty.
“It had a roof,” offered Walter. “And a door and windows, I seem to remember . . . I wasn’t very happy there.”
“Very helpful,” sighed Mr. McNumpty. “Next?”
“I know where I live,” said the black Labrador-cross-setter confidently. (He had been painted white with black spots by Debby in order to be sold as another Dalmatian—now most of the paint had come
off in the sea, and the rest when he’d been rubbed down with a towel.) “In Camomile Cottage, twenty miles away.”
“Well, if you give me the directions I’ll take you there in the car,” said Mr. Bold.
“Oh no, my dear Mr. Bold,” said the Labrador-cross-setter. “I think maybe you’ve been living as a human for a little too long. I don’t need a car and directions to get home.” He sniffed the air. “I’m a dog, and I have a very good sense of smell. I’ve been cooped up on that boat for days—there’s nothing I’d like more than a good run all the way home! Thank you so much for everything. Good luck, everyone!” And with that he bounded off down the beach in the direction of Carbis Bay.
The (rather portly) King Charles spaniel, it turned out, lived very close to the campsite, with a retired couple called Ursula and Derek. “They’re so very kind,” he said wistfully. “They’ll be very worried about me, I expect. What time is it?”
Mrs. Bold consulted her watch. “Almost ten o’clock,” she said.
“Oh, good. They always give me a digestive biscuit at about half past ten. Let’s hurry.” And he went and stood by the car.
“It isn’t very far away,” said Mr. Bold. “You could walk there in a few minutes.”
“Not with my hips,” muttered the King Charles. “If you’d be so kind?”
So Mr. Bold gave him a lift home, dropping him at the gate just as Ursula came out to put something in the trash can. As he waddled up the path toward his elderly owner, she let out a cry of joy. “Rubens! You’ve come home!” And she scooped him up and smothered him with kisses.
The cockapoo, Buddy, was also soon reunited with his owners, who lived nearby too. They had posted notes on all the lampposts about their lost dog, and were absolutely delighted when Uncle Tony knocked on their door with the little dog on a lead. Buddy was so thrilled to be home he immediately cocked his leg on the gatepost, and then ran around in circles in the garden. He was home!
Nellie the Jack Russell, it turned out, didn’t live anywhere. She’d been a street dog all her life, stealing scraps here and there and sleeping rough until caught late one night in Debby’s net. In fact, of all the dogs, she hadn’t really minded life on Debby’s boat. “I mean, really, mate,” she said to Betty, “roof over me head. Grub provided. What’s not to like?”
But then Bobby’s friend, Taxi, came to welcome him home, took one look at Nellie, and they fell instantly in love. Just like that. Taxi’s owners seemed to like Nellie too, so within a few hours she’d moved into their tent.
She ran back at lunchtime to tell the Bolds of her new living arrangements. Then with a glint in her eye she was off again, hotly pursued by a smitten Taxi.
So then there was just Walter left. He showed no signs of wanting to go anywhere. Minnie had dressed him in one of Miranda’s onesies so he didn’t get cold, but he was happiest being carried around inside her hoodie all day, peering out at a world he didn’t much want to investigate.
“Don’t you miss your owner?” Mrs. Bold asked him one day.
He shook his head. “I think I was just an accessory for her,” he said. “She liked carrying me around in her designer handbags and showing me off to her friends. But when we were at home . . .” He trailed off into silence.
“Didn’t she play with you?” asked Amelia.
“No,” he said.
“Did she take you out for a walk?”
Walter shook his head. “It was like I wasn’t there.”
So Walter stayed with the Bolds and became very attached to Minnie, who of course had always wanted a puppy of her own. Slowly, over the last days of their vacation, he became happier and more confident. He even managed a brief paddle in the sea and had a quick run along the beach with Bobby and Betty before scurrying back to Minnie and asking to be picked up.
“Well, I’ve asked all around, including at the animal shelter, and no one has reported little Walter missing, so it looks like he will be coming home to live with us,” said Mr. Bold.
“I’m fine with that,” said Mrs. Bold. “We’ve got plenty of room and he’s a dear little chap. Minnie can come and see him every day then, so it will be almost like having her own dog.”
On the last day of the vacation, Mrs. Bold slipped away from the beach to pay a visit to Tiddles Tea Shop on St Ives High Street.
“Ah, Mrs. Bold!” said Bertha. “I hear you found your son. How purrrfectly wonderful!”
“Yes,” beamed Amelia. “And I wanted to thank you for the information you gave me about Dog-Mad Debby. You were quite right about her.”
“Oh, don’t mention it,” said Bertha, bowing her head with modesty. “We animals are always willing to help each other. Especially where a human as dastardly as Debby is concerned.”
“She ought to be stopped before she steals any more poor dogs from the street,” said Mrs. Bold. “I’ve been worrying about that.”
“All done!” said Bertha, flashing the claws of one paw very briefly so Mrs. Bold could see. “I won’t bore you with the details, but let’s just say Debby won’t be bothering any more dogs.”
Amelia gasped. “Ah! You didn’t, you know, hurt her in any way, did you?”
Bertha smiled. “Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies. Now, can I interest you in one of our tasty Cornish pasties?”
Mrs. Bold gasped again. “Bertha, you didn’t? You’ve put Debby in a pasty?”
“No, of course not!” said Bertha. “What kind of an establishment do you think this is? No, I’ve got Debby where I can keep an eye on her. She’s poor now that she’s lost her boat and her business. Came looking for some work. Wants to go legit now. I think you Bolds have shown her that crime doesn’t pay. Well, you know how busy it can get around here in the summer . . . so I’ve given her a job—washing up. She wouldn’t dare try any funny business with me. OR I MIGHT TRY A NEW SPAGHETTI BOLOGNAISE RECIPE I’VE HEARD ABOUT,” she shouted loudly so that anyone in the back kitchen could hear.
Mrs. Bold couldn’t help but let out a hyena-like cackle. Then she said a fond farewell to Bertha and left the cafe.
Chapter 23
So the Bolds’ vacation finally came to an end. The tent was taken down, and everything was packed up and loaded in the trunk or on the roof rack, and everyone squeezed into the little blue car for the return journey.
“Good-bye, everyone!” said Pam the puffing puffin, flying in a farewell circle around the car. “Hope to see you next year! Agas gweles!”
“Thanks for everything, Pam. Look after yourself,” said Mrs. Bold. “We’ll definitely be back!”
“What a splendid adventure we’ve all had,” said Mr. McNumpty as they began the long journey home.
“No one would believe all the things that have happened!” said Uncle Tony.
“Me loopy loop on surfy board!” squealed Miranda.
“I got dog-napped and taken out to sea!” said Bobby.
“I rode on a dolphin’s back!” said Betty.
“I met a perfect little dog!” said Minnie.
“Funny how wonderful things happen to us Bolds,” said Fred contentedly. “Which bit did you like best, Amelia?” he asked his wife.
“Well,” said Mrs. Bold with a smile. “Getting Bobby back was the best bit, of course . . . But our vacation isn’t over yet, is it? Maybe the best is yet to come.”
“You don’t mean . . .”
“Yes, I do. TELL US SOME JOKES!”
So Mr. Bold did. Lots and lots of them. Here are just three, to give you the flavor. (I’ve picked the best of a motley bunch.)
And so the jokes continued.
On and on until they arrived home in Teddington, happy and helpless with laughter.
P.S.
But guess what? Do you remember the reason Minnie’s father wouldn’t let her have a dog? I told you way back at the beginning of the book . . .
Correct! Because he was allergic to dog fur.
But what is unusual about Walter?
Yup. He is hairless!
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br /> So what do you suppose happened when they got back to Teddington?
That’s right too! Minnie was allowed to keep Walter—she got the puppy she had always wanted.
Sigh.
Tears of joy and all that sort of thing.
If this isn’t the happiest ending to any book ever written, I’ll eat one of Mrs. Bold’s hats. So there!
Mr. Bold’s Jokes
How do fleas travel?
By itch-hiking!
What did one gas tank say to the other gas tank?
What do you take me for? A fuel?
How do you make a sausage roll?
Push it downhill!
What do you get when you cross a fly, a car and a dog?
A flying carpet!
Did you hear about the race between the lettuce and the tomato?
The lettuce got a “head” and the tomato was trying to “ketchup”!
Doctor, Doctor, I keep thinking I’m a nit.
Will you please get out of my hair!
Doctor, Doctor, I keep thinking I’m a dog.
Sit!
What do dogs eat at the movies?
Pupcorn!
Why do bananas put on sunscreen before they go to the beach?
In case they peel!
Where do pencils go on vacation?
Pencil-vania!
What time should you go to the dentist?
Tooth-hurty!
Did the dolphin break the vase by accident?
No, he did it on porpoise!
What did Cinderella dolphin wear to the ball?
Glass flippers!
Why do seagulls fly over the sea?
Because if they flew over the bay they’d be bagels!
What do you get if you cross a cat and a parrot?
A carrot!
Why are pirates called pirates?
The Bolds on Vacation Page 9
