The Great Cheese Robbery

by Chris Mould

  Button’s tummy gave a sudden rumble.

  “I can’t believe you are thinking about food at a time like this,” whispered Lily in surprise.

  “Hang on, it’s given me an idea. . . .” said Button. “Hope you’re hungry too!”

  And he turned around and started to dig his way out at the back. He pulled chunks of cheese out of the wall with his hands and stuffed them straight into his mouth.

  “It needs both of us,” he said, his cheeks full, and so Lily began to dig in too. She clawed lumps with her hands and ate as much as she could.

  Soon there was a hole big enough for Button to wriggle out. As Button grabbed Lily by her hands and pulled her through, claws pierced the wall of the cheese behind them.

  It was pitch black. They could see nothing. It smelled foul and they could feel large soft shapes around their feet. Mouse poo. The smell was so strong they felt sick. They only had minutes before the mice realized they were there. Where was Jones?

  They felt their way around, the sound of their movement drowned out by the chattering of mice teeth. Button kept one hand clutched around Lily’s coattail, desperate not to lose her. Ahead of him, she kept feeling her way until a passageway showed itself. They followed it, not knowing where it might lead.

  It was only by chance that they bumped into an old box. Something moved inside it. It was worth a try. “Help me,” Button whispered to Lily. “It’s heavy.”

  Together they pulled the inside drawer out of the box. Button felt inside and to his surprise there was something furry curled up in the corner. A faint meow whispered in the darkness.

  Button smiled. “Come on, old boy,” he said, pulling Jones out of the box and giving him a cuddle. He felt a warm lick on his face.

  “Ergh, you stink,” said Button.

  “Time to get out of here,” Lily urged, and grabbed Button, dragging him through the dark as he tucked his hands around Jones and held him tight.

  Shortly, they were back where they started. The cheese was now in little piles all over the floor, but it meant the pirates could see the entrance to the mouse hole. The sniffing got louder, as if the mice had sensed something strange in their home.

  “Run!” yelled Lily and they burst into full speed, racing toward the hole in the baseboard. The menacing mice were on their tail, scampering as fast as they could after the Pocket Pirates. Button was so full of cheese he could feel it churning around inside him as he ran.

  “Faster!” cried Lily, from the front. Button could feel the mice’s stinky breath down the back of his neck.

  Meanwhile, up on the bookshelf, Captain Crabsticks could just about hear the commotion below.

  “Brace yourself, old bean!” he told Uncle Noggin.

  They watched as Lily and Button burst out through the baseboard hole, racing across the hallway floor.

  “NOW!” the Captain yelled, and between them, he and Uncle Noggin sent the copy of Domestic Pest Control hurtling down to the ground, just as the mice shot out of their hole. The heavy book landed on top of the mice with a crash.

  Lily and Button whirled round at the thud behind them and couldn’t believe their eyes. They looked up and cheered as they spotted Captain Crabsticks and Uncle Noggin on the bookshelf, hopping around and waving their arms in glee.

  Dazed squeaks and squeals were coming from beneath the book, but the two Pocket Pirates didn’t stop to find out what the mice would do next. They scooted off in the direction of the fireplace, waving at their shipmates to follow.

  Button had to scale the shelves and boxes to get to the top and wind the musical box lift. No one could do it as quickly as he could. Not even Lily, and she was fast.

  Jones was hanging on tightly to Button. The little cat purred into Button’s chest as he climbed over all the odds and ends like a scurrying insect.

  There was nothing that beat a wild adventure, but returning home to a warm candle stub and an upturned thumbtack of cake crumbs came pretty close. The cozy safety of his hammock onboard the ship still seemed a world away, but Button knew he would soon be there, lying back and dreaming of life on the ocean waves. Dry land was more dangerous than being at sea, it seemed.

  “It’s all right, Jones, you can let go now!” Button said to the cat. “ You poor old thing, you look like you need a good meal and a good wash.”

  He took the slice of fish from his bag and fed it to Jones. The little cat gobbled it down and carried on licking Button’s hands. “Sorry,” Button told him, “I don’t have any more fish. But I’ll tell you what I do have. . . .”

  He headed into the corner of the shelf, returning with one of the pots of coffee cream he had kept by for a special occasion. He opened it carefully, peeling back the foil top. Then he dipped a nutshell inside and handed the cat a generous helping.

  Below, the others waited eagerly. They’d had enough of hanging around below the shelf. Lily was in position, holding on to the cotton. She had impatiently tugged on it several times already.

  “All right, all right! I’m here,” insisted Button.

  He wound the handle of the musical box. It took some strength and it had to be wound up fully for the passenger to reach the top. Soon Button saw Lily’s grinning face appearing.

  “Thanks, Button,” she said as she jumped back onto the shelf.

  The musical box played a tinkly tune as the cotton wound itself back down to the remaining crewmates. Then, when Uncle Noggin had tugged on the thread, Button began turning again.

  Button strained to turn the handle, feeling all the cheese churning in his tummy again. Lily joined him and they heaved and heaved, pulling as hard as they could.

  “Maybe Uncle Noggin’s eaten too much cheese as well!” Lily suggested.

  Eventually, Uncle Noggin appeared and the three of them hauled the Captain up together.

  “Aye aye, Captain. All present and accounted for, sir,” said Button.

  “Well done, young Button,” said the Captain. “But what is that HORRIBLE smell?”

  “It’s us!” said Button. “We smell of fish, and pet food and dog drool. . . .”

  “And cheese!” added Lily.

  “In that case, it’s baths all round, I’m afraid,” said Captain Crabsticks. “I know we’ve all had one this year already, but this is a special occasion. Button, you know your duties. Off you go.”

  And so Button headed off to the old mustard jar at the back of the shelf. He pried off the lid with a broken matchstick and pulled the tiny piece of cork out of the leaky pipe until hot water had filled their bathtub.

  He took the lens cleaning cloth from the case with the broken glasses and scraped a slice of soap from the quarter of a bar that they kept behind the bottle. While the others sat down and lit the candle, he jumped in and scrubbed himself clean. Then he let the water out into the plant pot and filled another bathtub for Lily, while the Captain and Old Uncle Noggin had a sneaky nap.

  Button sat down next to Jones and tickled him under his chin. The ship’s cat gave a rumbly purr and promptly fell into a contented sleep. His adventure was over!

  Mr. Tooey was scratching his head. There had been too many unexplained goings-on just recently. Somehow, Domestic Pest Control had fallen off the shelf all on its own, and now, a wooden train from the toy box had found its way into the middle of the hallway. The train was full of crumbs of cheese and, when he thought about it, he was sure he had heard strange noises coming from the baseboard. . . . Did he have mice that liked to read books and play with toy trains? he wondered to himself, then chuckled at the silliness of the thought.

  He headed to the fridge to make something to eat. But when he got to the tub of margarine, right there in the middle were the imprints of two tiny people. Arms and legs and heads.

  Mr. Tooey blinked hard in disbelief and headed to the room at the back for a lie down. Maybe he was going crazy after all. . . .

  In the mouse hole in the baseboard, Pepper Jack sat staring up at the Pocket Pirates’ shelf. The mice had won thems
elves some tasty cheese, but nonetheless, Pepper Jack was mad that the little pirates had foiled him. He watched as Button raised the pirate flag high. They would never foil him again, Pepper Jack thought with a scowl, and he turned and sloped back into the mice’s den.

  The Pocket Pirates were sitting around the candle stub. Uncle Noggin rubbed his stomach and gave a great big sigh.

  “Ahhhh. It’s nice to be back,” he said as he lay back on a bed of cotton wool. “What a long day.”

  Jones had a stomach full of fish and was curled up snug and warm under the glow of the candlelight. Button stroked his head and listened to him purr.

  “Let’s look at the booty then,” said the Captain, and they all emptied their bags and pockets out onto the shelf. “Well, well, we’ve done ourselves proud. That’s a fine hoard of treasure if ever I saw one.”

  There was enough cheese to last three weeks, a sackful of fresh biscuit crumbs, a sizeable chunk of milk chocolate that had given Captain Crabsticks a bad back, and three pocketfuls of chicken bits.

  And it didn’t stop there. They had a large green olive, a spectacularly meaty corner of pizza and three whole peanuts. It was a feast!

  “Tally-ho! Get in there,” said the Captain. “What’s the matter with you all?”

  “We’re stuffed,” groaned Button. “I’ve eaten far too much cheese, not to mention all the ham.”

  “Ham?” said Uncle Noggin, sitting upright in surprise. “I didn’t see any ham!”

  “That’s because Button ate it before you got to Fridge,” Lily said with a chuckle.

  And so the Pocket Pirates, stuffed and smelling lovely after their baths, headed back into their ship in a bottle and settled down to sleep. Just before Button closed his eyes, he looked over at Lily and she gave him a grin.

  Who knew what new adventures would await them in the morning?

  Turn the page for a peek at Book 2 in the Pocket Pirates adventures:

  THE GREAT DRAIN

  ESCAPE

  Things were not going too well for Button the ship’s boy. He was trapped in sticky webbing, unable to move, and six hungry eyes, eight spindly legs, and a mouth full of spiky fangs were heading in his direction. Mr. Dregby, the house spider, had finally caught the young Pocket Pirate in his trap, and it was time for dinner.

  Mr. Dregby slowly lowered himself toward Button, dangling from his spider silk. He stretched out four of his eight legs, reaching for the little pirate.

  Button wriggled as hard as he could, desperately trying to free himself, and then—

  THUMP!

  He fell out of his hammock and woke up.

  “Sufferin’ lobster lumps,” he gasped, rubbing his eyes and getting to his feet. “That was a horrible dream.”

  Button decided it would be a sensible idea to climb out of the ship in a bottle and take a good look around the shelf. He needed to be sure Mr. Dregby was safely tucked away in his corner, and not on the lookout for a Pocket Pirate–size snack.

  As he slipped out through the neck of the bottle and down to the wooden shelf, he was met with a lovely surprise. The sun was shining in through the window of the old junk shop. It was a beautiful day, and perfect for exploring.

  There was a loud rumbling sound.

  Button looked down. “Oh dear, it’s my stomach again,” he groaned.

  Supplies were low at the moment. The poor pirate crew had barely eaten for days. They were getting by on stale breadcrumbs and a piece of moldy old cheese left over from their last adventure. And that wasn’t really enough to fill the tummies of four pirates and one ship’s cat. Old Uncle Noggin and Captain Crabsticks were big eaters, and the youngest member of the crew, Lily, could pack away the grub too. Button had even tried chewing on the leaves of a potted plant, but that had left him with a terrible tummy ache.

  The problem had started when the owner of the junk shop, Mr. Tooey, had moved Doyle’s basket under the Pocket Pirates’ shelf. The shipmates needed to find a different way down to floor level that avoided the sly, slobbery dog.

  The only thing Doyle was good for was keeping the evil baseboard mice at bay. Who knows what might happen if the mice got hold of the pirates? And they often tried! But the Pocket Pirates had to leave the shelf soon, or they would starve.

  Button was still pondering when Lily appeared. She gave him a stern look. She could always tell when he was plotting something.

  “I’d like some fresh air,” Button announced.

  “Pardon?” Lily said. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. . . . Remember what happened last time you went off on your own? Your coat got caught on that picture hook and you were nearly Mr. Dregby’s dinner!”

  Button wasn’t put off. “Maybe you should come with me?” he suggested. “We could go hunting outside for breakfast and be back before the Captain and Old Uncle Noggin are awake.”

  Lily folded her arms and gave Button an even sterner look. “Out into the street? Are you nuts? We can’t even get down from the shelf now that Doyle has moved!”

  “But there must be another way down, and we’re sooooo hungry,” Button said, rubbing his tummy. “ You never know what we might find out there. Once, when Uncle Noggin was younger, he found a lump of fish and three fries inside an old newspaper.”

  Lily made a hmph sound and rolled her eyes.

  “Did you hear me, Lily?” Button said. “FISH . . . AND . . . FRIES!”

  “Yes, I heard you!” said Lily. “We’ve heard that story a million times. Even more than all his other tales. But what happened next, Button? He was attacked by a pigeon! Carried away and left up a tree. He’s still got the scars to prove it. You know I like adventure as much as the next pirate, but it’s too dangerous out there!”

  Button gave Lily a solemn look. “Okay, you’re right,” he said. “It is too dangerous. I promise I won’t leave the shelf.”

  But Lily couldn’t see that Button was crossing his fingers behind his back.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHRIS MOULD went to art school at the age of sixteen. During this time he did various jobs, from delivering papers to washing dishes. Chris loves his work and writes and draws the kind of books that he would have liked to have on his shelf as a boy. He has won the Nottingham Children’s Book Award and has been shortlisted for the Greenaway Award and commended for the Sheffield Book Award. Chris has also worked for the RSC, the BBC, the FT, and many other famous initials, as well as for Aardman Animations, where he did character and environment development work on the film Flushed Away. Chris is married with two children and lives in Yorkshire.

  Aladdin

  Simon & Schuster, New York

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  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ALADDIN

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  First Aladdin paperback edition June 2018

  Copyright © 2015 by Chris Mould

  Originally published in Great Britain in 2015 by Hodder Children’s Books

  Published under license from the British publisher

  Hodder & Stoughton Limited on behalf of its publishing imprint

  Hodder Children’s Books, a division of Hachette Children’s group

  Also available in an Aladdin hardcover edition.

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  Cover designed by Karin Paprocki

  Interior designed by Mike Rosamilia

  Cover illustration copyright © 2018 by Chris Mould

  The illustrations for this book were rendered in pen and ink.

  Library of Congress Control Number 2017957347

  ISBN 978-1-4814-9115-0 (hc)

  ISBN 978-1-4814-9114-3 (pbk)

  ISBN 978-1-4814-9116-7 (eBook)