The Smug Pug

by Anna Wilson

  For Millie Rule,

  who wrote such a lovely story

  for the PDSA Writing Competition

  Contents

  Hello Again and How Are You?

  1. Back to School (Groan)

  2. Introducing Tallulah Foghorn

  3. Dash Is Not Convinced

  4. Introduction Number Two: Smug the Pug

  5. Mrs Fudge Gets Rather Cross

  6. Pippa Gets an Invitation

  7. The Incredible Inventionary

  8. Dash and Smug Finally Meet

  9. Who Will Try the New Machine?

  10. Raphael Is Bowled Over

  11. Marble Gets the Foghorn Treatment

  12. Astonishing Transformations

  13. Pippa Takes Control

  14. Dash Does Some Detecting

  15. The Pooch-Pampering Machine

  16. Pawology

  17. Da Da Daaaaaaaa! Disaster!

  18. The Mesmerizing Mind Machine

  The Bit at the End Where We Say Goodbye

  Hello Again and How Are You?

  My, my, it seems an age since we last met. And if we haven’t met before: hello and welcome to you, new reader!

  As I am feeling particularly friendly today, I will give you a little introduction to the characters in Crumbly-under-Edge. (And if you are a reader who has already visited the town, I am sure you will be patient with me.)

  This is Pippa Peppercorn, who is every bit as splendid as you. She is ten and three-quarters and a little bit more by now –

  In other words, almost ELEVEN!

  Quite! And she is the assistant in the pooch-pampering parlour and hair salon called Chop ’n’ Chat.

  The lady who owns the delightful salon is Mrs Semolina Ribena Fudge. (Although you must only ever call her Mrs Fudge, as she is not very fond of her first names.) not only does she cut hair and pamper pooches most professionally, she is also a fabulous baker of cakes, meringues and biscuits.

  Why, thank you, dear!

  You are most welcome.

  And this is Dash, the handsomest dachshund that ever there was.

  Couldn’t have put it better myself.

  Yes, that’s why I’m the author (ahem).

  And this is Muffles.

  Miaaaoow!

  She says she’s delighted to meet you. And last, but by no means least, here is Raphael, the friendliest postman you are ever likely to meet.

  Oh, darlin’! I is blushin’ now!

  So now you have met the main characters (or said hello to them all again), let’s get on with the story!

  1

  Back to School (Groan)

  Pippa Peppercorn woke to the sound of her alarm clock and immediately felt her heart sink to the bottom of her huge woolly bedsocks.

  The alarm clock meant only one thing: school. It was the end of the Easter holidays, the end of lazy mornings. Lessons would begin that day and there was no getting out of it.

  ‘I wonder if I could make up an excuse. I could say I have come down with some incredibly rare disease that makes it impossible for me to go to school ever again,’ she pondered. She surveyed her clothes, which she had laid out the night before, and tried not to look at her book bag. ‘Or I could pretend to be my mother calling by putting on a fake voice and saying, “I’m terribly sorry, but Pippa Peppercorn has been struck by lightning and will never be able to leave the house for the rest of her life.” No, that wouldn’t work. I wouldn’t be able to go out to see Dash and Mrs Fudge then.’ She sighed. ‘It’s ridiculous. I don’t need to go to school. I can learn everything I will ever find necessary in life by going to Mrs Fudge’s salon.’

  And in some ways that was true. At Chop ’n’ Chat, Pippa had to be good at many things. She had to be good at maths, so that she did not make mistakes with the money side of things (she never had yet). She also had to be good at English, so that she could deal with the letters-and-bills side of things (she always did that correctly). But, more importantly, she had to be good at speaking up and giving clear explanations so that she could handle the people side of things (she still had a little bit to learn in that department).

  ‘And as these things are the skills you need in the big wide world,’ Pippa went on, ‘why on earth do I need to go to school to learn all the other stupid things they teach me? Like f’rinstance where America is. I don’t need to know that, cos if I wanted to go I could just hop on a plane. It’s not like I’d have to row there in a boat or anything.’

  But she was a sensible girl and she knew there was no point in putting it off a moment longer. With a deep breath she threw herself at the pile of clothes and got dressed, grabbed her bag and slid down the banisters.

  ‘I may as well make something fun about getting ready for school,’ she said aloud.

  Her boring parents were already at the kitchen table, noses firmly stuck in their newspapers and books, so Pippa snatched up a piece of toast, smeared it with peanut butter and ran out of the house yelling, ‘It’s the first day of term today. See you!’

  (She had to remind her boring parents that it was the first day of term as they were so wrapped up in being boring that they would not have known where she was going otherwise.)

  Pippa fetched her skateboard from the porch. She loved her skateboard as it meant she could travel speedily from A to B (or A to Z if it was a particularly long journey). It also gave her the rather pleasing sensation of the wind whistling in her ears as her red plaits flowed out behind her like bunting.

  Now you might well ask, why would she want to get to school quickly if she didn’t like school? And that would be a very sharp question, so full marks to you. But the reason Pippa loved her skateboard was that it was very useful for getting away from school in double-quick time. (And most days this was because she was going to help Mrs Fudge at Chop ’n’ Chat.)

  After a bit of whizzing along, Pippa realized she needed to slow down or she would arrive at school too early and have to spend time in the playground with other children. So she made a little detour to see one of Mrs Fudge’s most loyal customers, Mrs Prim, and offered to walk her springer spaniel, George. George always loved this as he got to run behind the speedy skateboard so that he too had the rather pleasing sensation of the wind whistling in his ears. And they looked even more like bunting fluttering in the breeze than Pippa’s hair did!

  Sadly the walk was over all too quickly and Pippa saw by her watch that she would have to rush otherwise she would be late.

  ‘Which is as bad as being too early,’ she explained to Mrs Prim, ‘as everyone stares at you if you walk in late.’

  So, once she had dropped George back, she pushed off schoolwards at full speed.

  She arrived at St Crumble’s Junior School, out of breath and with her hair all fluffed by the wind, just as the smallest boy was giving the school bell its final DONG, and as the last child was disappearing in through the door.

  The head teacher was counting everyone in, and when she saw Pippa she frowned and said, ‘Pippa Peppercorn. How nice of you to join us.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Pippa, thinking that it might be nice for the head teacher but it certainly wasn’t at all nice for her. Then she slipped away to the cloakroom, where she stowed her skateboard under the benches, and sprinted to her classroom.

  She was relieved to see that, rather than everyone being seated at their desks and staring at her for being late, the class was gathered around in a huddle, and from the middle of the huddle came a very loud voice that Pippa did not recognize.

  ‘. . . and my parents have had to fly to Outer Zongolia to investigate the appearance of an extremely rare species of sky-blue-green bottle-nosed aphid,’ said the very loud voice. ‘So my grandfather, who is a professor and has just moved to Crumbly-under-Edge, has sa
id I can stay with him.’

  Oh great, a new girl, thought Pippa.

  Pippa did not have a very good opinion of new girls, as any new girl who had arrived in the past had immediately latched on to the Popular People and within minutes had been herded into a group with the whisperers and the sniggerers.

  But as Pippa approached the circle of children, she caught a glimpse of the newcomer and immediately decided that this girl was decidedly different from any other she had ever seen.

  For a start, she had MAD hair! Oh boy, did she have mad hair! It was wild and woolly and full of bounce and not a bit like the neatly brushed ponytails and topknots that the other girls had. And this hair was exactly the same shade of firework red as Pippa’s. And the girl was wearing a pair of ginormous black-rimmed spectacles, which made her bright green eyes luminous and large. She wore a pencil behind each ear and her white dress looked a bit like a long white shirt which was too big for her. It was covered in pockets, which appeared to contain, among other things, more spectacles, more pencils, a ruler and a couple of notebooks. Best of all, the funny new girl was ever so slightly mischievous-looking. AND she had something very interesting indeed peeking out of her school bag, which no one else seemed to have noticed yet.

  ‘Is that a . . . ?’ asked Pippa.

  But she did not have time to finish her question, as just then the form teacher, Mr Guttersnipe, came in and shouted at everyone to sit down.

  But not before the girl had had a chance to grin broadly at Pippa and give her an enormous wink.

  2

  Introducing Tallulah Foghorn

  There was an immediate and very crazy scramble as every child raced to sit in the seat they particularly wanted to sit in. And of course, everyone was clamouring to sit next to the new girl. New pupils were always exciting and they did not come along that often.

  ‘Come and sit with me,’ cooed Candida Smiley, the Most Popular Girl in the School. She patted the chair next to her, where her friend India Marmite usually sat. (India was for some reason sprawled on the floor beside her chair, rubbing her head and glaring angrily at Candida.)

  But the new girl replied, ‘No, thanks. I don’t want to end up on the floor,’ and, grabbing her bag, she plonked herself down next to Pippa (where there was always a free place).

  ‘Hi!’ she whispered hoarsely, ignoring Mr Guttersnipe, who was shooting her particularly dark looks.

  Mr Guttersnipe then turned his back on the class and began writing on the board, so the new girl took Pippa’s hand and pumped it up and down. ‘I’m Tallulah. Tallulah Foghorn. What’s your name?’ she said. ‘Oh, and this is Smug – but don’t tell anyone he’s here, will you?’ She gestured to her school bag, where the small face of a particularly gorgeous-looking pug was concealed between a pencil case and yet another notebook. The little dog winked at Pippa.

  Well, that did it. Pippa’s serious expression broke into the broadest of broad grins, her turquoise eyes went all glittery and she got one of those tingly feelings that you get in your tummy when you just know that you are going to be very good friends with someone. (You know the feeling. It makes you feel light and floaty and giggly and a tiny bit crazy, doesn’t it?)

  ‘I’m Pippa Peppercorn,’ she whispered back, ‘and it’s very nice to meet you. Both of you!’ she added, winking back at the pug.

  For the first time in her life, Pippa felt school was going to be a very exciting place.

  That day Pippa laughed and smiled more than she had ever done at St Crumble’s in the whole long time she had been going there, which was quite a few years already, what with her being ten and three-quarters and a little bit more by now. And she learned a lot about Tallulah Foghorn in the process.

  Now, I don’t want you thinking that Pippa was one of those naughty sorts of pupils who chatters and giggles in class whenever they think they can get away with it.

  On the other hand, there is no point in trying to hide it: Tallulah was that sort of pupil. But because she was so incredibly brainy, she got away with it. For example, she was in the middle of telling Pippa that she liked to invent things. ‘And Smug here is very useful at helping with all sorts of projects. In fact that is why I have brought him in today.’ She explained that science was ‘in my blood’, as her parents were scientists of the travelling sort, who liked to ‘swim rivers and climb mountains and wade through swamps to find interesting specimens to put in bottles and jars, so they never stay in the same place for more than a week—’

  ‘Erm! Excuse me, Miss Foghorn!’ Mr Guttersnipe butted in.

  ‘Yes?’ said Tallulah cheekily. ‘What can I do for you?’

  The whole class gasped in shock. And Candida Smiley gave a particularly nasty snigger too, as she could see Tallulah was going to get into trouble.

  Mr Guttersnipe raised his thick, hairy eyebrows and flared his thick, hairy nostrils and said, ‘What you can do for me, Tallulah Foghorn, is to stop talking while I am talking!’

  ‘Ah, technically you were not in fact talking at that moment,’ Tallulah said, holding up a finger in a correcting sort of way. ‘You were actually writing on the board, to be precise.’

  ‘Tallulah,’ said Mr Guttersnipe sharply, ‘I’m afraid to tell you that I do not allow answering back in this class. Would you be so good as to tell me the answer to the question I just asked?’ he added, glaring at the new girl.

  ‘How can I answer the question if I am not allowed to answer back?’ Tallulah pointed out.

  There was another sharp intake of breath from the other pupils as Mr Guttersnipe’s face went through several shades of purple before he shouted, ‘Tell me the answer!’

  Pippa glanced at her new friend and grimaced. She realized there was no way that Tallulah would be able to answer the question because she had not been listening.

  Imagine her surprise when Tallulah replied: ‘Well, why didn’t you say that’s what you wanted me to do? The answer is one hundred and fifty thousand, two hundred and sixty-two.’

  How utterly amazing, thought Pippa. But she did not dare say so aloud, because Mr Guttersnipe was staring at Tallulah, who of course was right next to Pippa.

  Mr Guttersnipe was in fact staring in an almost rude manner. His face had gone from purple to white, his jaw had dropped open and his spectacles had slipped off the end of his hairy nose and now fell to the floor with a clatter. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times without one single squeak of a sound coming out.

  Oh no, she’s done it now, thought Pippa. He’s going to explode. He’s just building up to it . . .

  However, the teacher merely said, ‘W-w-well, I – I – yes, that’s very good,’ in a dazed tone of voice. Then, clearing his throat and bending down to pick up his spectacles, he attempted to regain control of the situation. ‘I am glad to see that someone is paying attention,’ he said pointedly. He put his spectacles back on and looked over the top of them at Pippa, who pretended to find the ink stains on her desk very interesting indeed.

  ‘How did you do that?’ she asked her new friend at break-time.

  ‘What?’

  ‘That thing where you were talking to me in the lesson but you were also listening to Mr Guttersnipe at the same time? At least I suppose you were listening at the same time, because otherwise how would you have known the answer?’ Pippa babbled.

  ‘Oh, it’s all a case of extra-compensatory perception,’ Tallulah said vaguely.

  The pug in her bag let out a small snort.

  Pippa chewed her lip and watched the pug carefully, but the little dog curled up and seemed to go to straight to sleep. Meanwhile Tallulah had cheerfully launched into another long story involving her parents and a rare species of parrot they had discovered, that could play the accordion and count backwards in Mandarin Chinese.

  ‘This girl is fantastic,’ Pippa said to herself. ‘I do hope Dash likes her dog. Then we can have lots of fun together! I must find a way of introducing them.’

  3

  Dash Is Not Co
nvinced

  ‘MRS F., MRS F.!’ cried Pippa, flinging open the door of Chop ’n’ Chat. She propped her skateboard up against the wall, hurled her coat and scarf on to the pegs and skittered down the hall with a hop and a jump. ‘You’ll never guess what happened to me today!’ she shouted.

  She was so excited she couldn’t wait until she was in the same room as Mrs Fudge before starting to speak. Although, had she stopped to think, she would have realized that it was a waste of effort, for Mrs Fudge (as you may remember if you have met her before) was a trifle deaf.

  And even if Mrs Fudge had been able to hear perfectly through two brick walls and a closed door, the jolly old lady had her hands full as usual.

  She was in the middle of dealing with a frisky Border terrier called Jasper whose whiskery face had become more than a little overgrown, which is not a good look for anyone. The whiskers had started to collect unwanted bits and pieces in them such as worms and pencil shavings and biscuit crumbs and Sellotape. Jasper’s owner, a bright-as-a-button and delightful child called Millie Rule, was struggling to keep the pooch still while Mrs Fudge gently removed the offending items and combed the matted fur. She spoke soothingly to the irritable little dog as she worked.

  ‘There, there, Jasper,’ she was saying. ‘I know it hurts a bit, but you’ve got so many nasty tangles. Nearly done . . .’

  Dash was sitting at her feet, yapping out instructions to the dog and sounding a lot less gentle and understanding than Mrs Fudge was. ‘Sit still, can’t you? Mrs Fudge won’t be able to do anything with you if you insist on twisting and turning like that.’

  ‘Grrrrr,’ said Jasper.