by Anna Wilson
‘There, there,’ said Millie, copying Mrs Fudge’s soothing manner.
‘Miaaooow!’ complained Muffles. The poor cat was trying to have forty winks on the countertop and was finding all these interruptions most aggravating.
‘Ah, thank goodness you’re here, Pippa,’ said Mrs Fudge, looking up. ‘Could you give us a hand?’ Mrs Fudge nodded to Dash, making it plain that she would find her job a lot easier without the noisy little dachshund under her feet. ‘And perhaps a glass of lemonade for young Millie here,’ she added, gesturing to the girl.
Mrs Fudge checked her late husband’s gold pocket watch and tutted. ‘Millicent Beadle will be here in five minutes.’
‘Don’t you want to hear about my new friends?’ asked Pippa, as she scooped up a protesting Dash. But Mrs Fudge was wrestling with the terrier now and could only be heard to mutter, ‘My, aren’t we feisty? Why don’t you take a seat, Millie dear, while Pippa brings some refreshments?’
‘Yes, Mrs Fudge,’ said Millie. She looked longingly at Pippa to emphasize how much she was looking forward to that glass of lemonade.
Pippa sighed and, taking the hint, made her way out to the kitchen. Dash struggled vigorously in her arms.
‘Do you mind?’ he said irritably. ‘I was helping Mrs Fudge. I do object to being picked up and thrown around the place without so much as a by-your-leave.’
‘Actually,’ said Pippa, once they were out of the salon so that Millie wouldn’t hear her having a conversation with a dog, ‘you were not helping. You were in the way. Now, why don’t you stop yapping and listen to me?’
‘Yapping?’ protested Dash. ‘YAPPING? I’ll have you know—’
‘Yes, I’m sure you will,’ said Pippa. She put him down on the kitchen floor and stood over him, her hands on her hips.
Dash never liked it when she did this, as it only served to remind him how under-tall he was. He sat up on his stocky little haunches and held his head as high as he could, with his pointy nose in the air. It was his most distinguished look, and he knew how to use it for maximum effect.
‘That’s better,’ said Pippa. She smiled wryly at the proud miniature dachshund. She put the kettle on and then sat on a kitchen chair so that she was closer to Dash. ‘What would you say if I told you that I have made a friend – at school?’
Dash flattened his ears and showed the whites of his eyes. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I’d say that was a turn-up for the books! I thought you hated the place and everyone in it.’
‘I know. I do. I mean, I have done . . .’ said Pippa, ‘in the past. But everything’s different now. There’s this new girl and she is AMAZING. She doesn’t care what anyone thinks about her, she took no notice of the Popular People like Candida Smiley and she has the most wonderful red hair just like me – only it isn’t exactly like mine as it’s big and whoofy and full of bounce, but it is red! And even better than all of this: she has a dog! I can’t wait for you to meet them. I might bring them around tomorrow. Do you think Mrs F. would mind?’
‘That depends . . .’ Dash began.
But Pippa was not really interested in his opinion. She was too busy jabbering on about her new friend.
‘She is incredibly clever and knows everything about everything! And her dog is a pug, like Coral Jones’s dog Winston. And he is gorgeous. Tallulah brings him to school – that proves she is not like anyone else in that boring old place. None of the others would dare do that. He’s so cute! And she lives with her grandfather who is a famous professor and her parents are famous scientists who travel all over the world –’ she was getting a little carried away here, as Tallulah had said nothing whatsoever about her parents or grandfather being famous – ‘and I’m sure you’ll be the best of friends. We could go on walks, all four of us. Oh, I think life is going to be perfect from now on!’ Pippa clasped her hands together and sighed happily.
Dash snarled softly. ‘Just because you happen to think this girl’s dog is “gorgeous”, it does not necessarily mean that he and I will get along,’ he said. ‘Everyone in Crumbly-under-Edge has “gorgeous” dogs. That’s why Mrs Fudge opened the pooch-pampering parlour, for heaven’s sake. But I am not “the best of friends” with all of them, am I?’
Dash was clearly a little jealous. ‘Do I need to remind you that you already have a friend? And a dog, for that matter?’ he added huffily.
‘What is the matter?’ Pippa frowned, backing away slightly, for Dash’s snarling had gone up a notch.
‘I am your friend,’ said the miniature dachshund. He spoke slowly and clearly as if speaking to someone of very little brain, ‘and I am a dog.’
Pippa blushed. ‘I know you are my friend, but you are not my dog, are you? You are not actually anyone’s dog. You turned up in the middle of that storm and you wouldn’t say where you’d come from. You live at Mrs Fudge’s place, but I don’t think even she would say that she owns you. You are special like that,’ she added, warming to her theme. (She knew how to win Dash round, and it was working.)
‘Yes, w-well – all right, I see what you mean,’ said Dash. He looked up at Pippa bashfully, his chocolate-drop eyes wide and his feathery ears flat. ‘I am very much my own dog, you are quite right. So, this newcomer. Tell me more.’
Pippa gave him a knowing smile. She could see that he was actually quite inquisitive, though he did not like to admit it. Then she told Dash everything she knew about Tallulah and Smug. As she spoke, she became more and more animated, and Dash, try as he might, found himself becoming more and more prickly. When Pippa told him the dog’s name, he couldn’t help yelping in amusement.
‘Smug?’ he squeaked. ‘I bet he lives up to his name too.’
Pippa scrunched up her face into a particularly fearsome scowl and crossed her arms tightly across her chest. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘if you’re going to be like that, you won’t be wanting to meet them, will you?’
‘Meet who, dear?’ asked Mrs Fudge. ‘Have you got that glass of lemonade?’
A very thirsty Millie was right behind the old lady, and an equally thirsty Jasper was straining at his leash.
‘See?’ Dash muttered. ‘You have already forgotten your responsibilities to your old friends.’
Pippa ignored him and beamed at Mrs Fudge. ‘I was talking about my new friends!’ she said. Then, seeing Millie’s puzzled face, she said, ‘I mean, I was thinking about my new friends. You can meet them yourself, Mrs Fudge. I will bring them to Chop ’n’ Chat just as soon as I can.’
Then she whirled around before Dash could chip in with any more spiteful remarks and busied herself with fetching the refreshments.
4
Introduction Number Two: Smug the Pug
Pippa did not stop to eat her breakfast properly the next day, so anxious was she to get to school early. She flicked a piece of toast out of the toaster and whacked a dollop of apricot jam on it, then sped away on her skateboard before her parents had time to look up from their newspapers and notice she had gone.
Eating the toast and jam while skateboarding was a little bit of a palaver, as the morning was rather windy: Pippa’s long red plaits kept being whisked into her mouth along with fragments of sticky toast. But even this inconvenience could not dampen our Pippa’s spirits this morning as she sang with her mouth full of hair and breakfast. ‘I’m off to see Tallulah!’ she trilled. (To be honest, it was a good job her mouth was full of hair and toast, as Pippa had never been renowned for her singing voice, and this way no one could really hear her.)
She arrived in the playground to find Tallulah was already there, and she had brought Smug the pug with her again. He wasn’t in Tallulah’s bag this time though; he was sitting neatly by the new girl’s enormous feet, which went some way to hiding him from general view. He was quietly watching as Tallulah smiled and waved at the other pupils who only the day before had been crowding around her, eager to get to know her. This time, though, they were walking straight past her and pretending that she didn’t exist.
Oh dear, thought Pippa.
Poor Tallulah.
For Pippa could see what the new girl clearly could not, which was that everyone had already decided not to be her friend. Tallulah was ‘different’, you see; for a start she had already proved that she was far too clever for their liking, and for a finish she did not ‘fit in’, whether it was because of her rather strange dress sense or her thick glasses or her crazy hair.
All of which were, of course, precisely why Pippa liked her.
However, even Pippa could see that some things about Tallulah might cause problems, and bringing Smug into school was one of them.
Surely she does not think she can bring her dog to school every day without one of the teachers noticing, Pippa thought. She must have a very odd idea of what school is like. Oh well. She shrugged and waved and called out to her new friend.
‘Hi, Tallulah!’ Pippa zoomed over and stopped in front of the girl and her dog, flicking her skateboard up with one black-booted foot and holding on to the top of it to stop it rolling away.
‘Hello, Pippa,’ said Tallulah. ‘What a curious method of transporting yourself to school!’ Then, picking up one of Pippa’s plaits she peered at it short-sightedly and said, ‘You also have an interesting line in hair accessories. Apricot jam! Most intriguing. I would never have thought of wearing it in such a manner. But it does look rather fetching on you, as it happens.’
Pippa stammered, ‘Oh, er, yes. Thanks.’ She took her plait back from her friend and began wiping at it. This girl is more than a little bit bonkers if she thinks I am actually wearing apricot jam on purpose! Pippa thought.
Tallulah was still speaking. ‘I must say, I am relieved that you have made your presence known to me. I was beginning to think that we had accidentally switched on our latest invisibility invention before leaving the house this morning,’ she said.
‘I – er – what?’ said Pippa.
‘It seems that we cannot be seen by our fellow pupils this morning,’ Tallulah explained.
Then Pippa realized what was going on.
‘No! You are not invisible,’ Pippa said firmly. ‘The others were just being horrid and ignoring you. They do it all the time when they don’t want to be friends with someone. Don’t pay them any attention. I can see you very clearly,’ she said. ‘And, by the way, I can see Smug too – listen, I thought you said that you didn’t want anyone to know about him? You should hide him away in your bag or you’ll get into trouble.’
‘Does she have to do that? It is awfully stuffy in there.’
Pippa started. ‘Who said that?’ She looked around, but the other children were continuing to walk past silently. ‘Tallulah, did you just speak without moving your lips?’ she asked.
‘No, of course she didn’t. She may be intelligent, but ventriloquism is most definitely not one of her skills.’
‘Eh?’ said Pippa, feeling more than a little bamboozled.
Tallulah merely giggled in response.
Pippa looked around her again, this time to see if anyone else had spoken and was perhaps playing a trick on her. But no one was so much as looking in her direction, let alone talking to her. Not even Candida Smiley (who was at that moment explaining that everyone had to play her latest skipping game to exactly and precisely her rules).
‘I – I don’t understand,’ Pippa spluttered. ‘If you didn’t speak just then, Tallulah, who did?’
Tallulah clapped her hands, her green eyes twinkling. ‘My, my! I had you marked out as special from the moment I met you, but I did not expect you to be quite so wonderful as all that.’ She paused and looked at Pippa fondly, her head on one side.
‘That’s . . . that’s really nice,’ said Pippa. ‘But could you explain what’s going on, please?’
She felt a soft, wet nose prod at her calf and heard the mystery voice again: ‘It certainly is wonderful to find a human who appreciates the finer species on this planet.’
Pippa looked down and saw that Tallulah’s pug was looking back up at her and grinning.
Pippa gasped. And then she laughed. ‘But . . . but this is FANTASTIC!’ she cried.
‘I agree,’ said Tallulah. ‘I had an inkling that you might be one of us, and now I am utterly convinced.’
‘One of us – I – one of you?’ Pippa said. ‘What does that mean?’
But the bell rang for the beginning of lessons, and the head teacher appeared in the doorway and shouted to everyone to line up to go inside.
This is so exciting! she thought. Dash is going to LOVE these two.
5
Mrs Fudge Gets Rather Cross
That afternoon when Pippa went to Chop ’n’ Chat she talked of nothing but Tallulah and Smug. A very bored Dash soon took himself into the kitchen, curled up in his basket and went to sleep.
Sadly Mrs Fudge was soon fed up with Pippa’s constant chatter too. Especially when it became clear that Pippa was so fizz-poppingly excited that she was not paying full attention to the customers.
‘Pippa, dear,’ said Mrs Fudge, struggling to keep her voice kindly and calm, ‘I feel you are a little distracted this afternoon.’
But Pippa was still chattering away. ‘And then Tallulah said—’
‘PIPPA!’ cried Mrs Fudge.
‘Oh, sorry, what?’ said Pippa.
‘As I was saying – I feel you are a little distracted.’ Mrs Fudge nodded towards the dog-grooming table, where Penelope Smythe was perched, looking quite anxious (as well she might, seeing as Pippa was pointing some dog clippers in her direction). Then the old lady gestured to a twirly-whirly chair where Penelope’s saluki, Sukie, was sitting contentedly, a cape and a towel around her neck, her tongue lolling happily out of the corner of her mouth.
‘OH!’ cried Pippa, rushing to correct the situation. She charged at Penelope, with the intention of helping her down from the table, but she was still holding the clippers. The poor lady needed no more proof that she was about to be groomed instead of her pooch. She screamed loudly and leaped in the air. She landed with a thud on Muffles, who had chosen that moment to stalk a spider that had scuttled in from the garden.
‘Help!’ cried Penelope.
‘Raaaooow!’ shrieked Muffles. (The spider said nothing, but made a clean getaway.)
‘Woof-woof-woof!’ exclaimed Sukie, who immediately assumed a game had started and bounded off the twirly-whirly chair to chase Muffles out of the salon.
Mrs Fudge was sent spinning as the dog knocked her off balance.
‘That does it!’ she shouted above the cacophony. ‘I’m going to have to ask you to go home, Pippa.’
‘I should say so!’ agreed Penelope crossly, picking herself up.
‘But – I’m – I’m so sorry,’ spluttered Pippa.
‘It’s no good you being here, dear,’ said Mrs Fudge, ‘if your mind is elsewhere. You can come back when you are ready to be useful again. I would rather have my hands full than have you cause such a commotion.’
Poor Pippa. She never meant to cause anyone any trouble, let alone her dear friend Mrs Fudge. And she had never heard the lovely old lady sound so cross with her before. But as she surveyed the scene that she had helped to bring about, she realized that she must do as she was told. ‘All right,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ll go.’
The next day Tallulah and Smug were late, so Pippa did not get a chance to talk to them until break-time. So she fidgeted and wriggled during lessons, itching for the bell to hurry up and ring so that she could run outside into the playground and talk to her new friends.
But then, who would not fidget and wriggle if they had a person such as Mr Guttersnipe for their teacher? The minute he arrived in the classroom he was shouting out such teacherly nonsense as, ‘Sit down and shut up and use your ears and mouth in their correct proportions.’ And then he warbled on, explaining a maths problem which would demonstrate how many apples it takes to make Susie decide to swim across the Channel with only one flipper (or something).
Mr Guttersnipe could have announced that he was giving away free cho
colate and Pippa would not have reacted because she just could not concentrate on what he was saying.
I have to find a way to get Tallulah and Smug to Chop ’n’ Chat, she was thinking. I know Mrs Fudge and Dash will love them once they have met them. But Mrs Fudge was so cross with me yesterday. Perhaps she will not ever want me back, let alone want to meet my friends? she thought sadly. Unless I can do something extra-specially nice for her that will make her pleased with me again.
‘Pippa Peppercorn!’ An annoying nasal voice broke into her sad thoughts.
Pippa looked up and saw an enormous pair of hairy nostrils. It was like staring into a snotty forest.
‘Urgh!’ she said.
‘No, Miss Peppercorn,’ said Mr Guttersnipe (for that is who the nostrils belonged to). ‘That is not the answer I was looking for.’
The whole class sniggered.
Pippa felt a tap on her knee and looked down to see Smug holding out a piece of paper to her.
‘Read it out,’ the pug hissed.
Pippa looked up nervously. Mr Guttersnipe’s nostril hairs were still dangerously close and the class’s sniggering was becoming louder.
‘So, as I thought,’ sneered the teacher, ‘you were not paying attention. In which case, I suggest that you stay behind after school and—’
‘Fifty-six metres per second,’ Pippa said loudly.
‘Report to the Head at—’ Mr Guttersnipe began. Then, ‘Oh, right . . . so you were listening. That’s – that’s very good, Pippa,’ he said. He straightened up and coughed to cover his embarrassment. ‘Yes, well, in future it would be nice if you replied straight away, rather than making me come over and wring the answer out of you.’
And in future it would be nice if you didn’t lean in so close and show me all your nostril hairs, thought Pippa.
At least she thought she had thought it, but the teacher’s face went a deep shade of purple and he spluttered, ‘WHAT did you just say, Pippa Peppercorn?’
