Colin Joins the Circus

Contents Front Matter..................................................3 Title Page...................................................3 Publisher Information.................................4 The Stories.....................................................5 Colin Joins the Circus..................................5 M and the Phantom Skateboard................12 Colin Meets the Untouchables....................21 Colin and the Witches of Mells...................30 The Bank Siege.........................................39 Also Available...........................................46

    COLIN JOINS THE CIRCUS        

By Merv Lambert

Publisher Information

 

Colin Joins The Circus Published in 2011 by Andrews UK Limited   www.andrewsuk.com   This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.   The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.   Copyright © Merv Lambert   The right of Merv Lambert to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Colin Joins the Circus

 

Olivia was away in Liverpool with Auntie Flo, who was moving house and wanted some help in choosing new curtains and furniture. M had also gone there to stay with Billy and Jilly. When he was a very little boy, Colin had never really liked circuses. Now he was older his opinion was about to change. He had not intended to go there. He had felt tired after a long day working at the library, and just before he fell asleep in his armchair with Sammy on his lap he must have accidentally turned to the wrong page in his special book. The bookmark seemed to pulse an alarm, but too late! Colin, now wide awake, looked down at himself and saw that he was wearing a brightly coloured clown’s costume with abnormally long, floppy shoes, and then his hand brushed against a rather stiff wig of long red hair. “Oh, no!” he gulped. “I don’t like this, Sammy.” The little dog was already sniffing around a large pole holding up the enormous tent known as the Big Top. As he gazed around his surroundings, Colin’s thoughts were interrupted by a shout. “Hey you, Droopy!” Colin turned, pointed at himself and mouthed the word, “Me?” He saw that the person shouting at him was a tall thin man, also dressed as a clown with a painted white face, but wearing a smarter kind of uniform with harlequin diamonds on it and topped off by a hat that resembled a small white traffic cone. “Yes, you, Droopy! Get over here! You’re needed for the car rehearsal.” Colin wandered over to where a young woman, also in a clown’s outfit like his own and with a clown’s painted face, had just pushed a very comical open-topped car into the circus ring. She looked familiar and seemed friendly enough. Then Colin realised that it was his new wife Olivia.

“Hello. What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in Liverpool with Auntie Flo.” Well, I’m not. We’re here to stand in for my cousin Suzanna and her boyfriend.” Sammy licked Olivia’s hand “Is he part of the act?” asked Colin. “I don’t see why not. Listen carefully though. We’ve got a lot to do ready for tonight’s show. First you come in, flop around looking daft, do a funny run to the car, and, as I drive it into the ring, you dive into the back. I drive round and then you pick up that bucket over there. You pretend to throw water out of it onto the audience in the nearest seats, but they only get covered in stars made out of glitter paper. Then I drive round to that pretend petrol-pump and Bozo - that’s Suzanna’s brother by the way, who was shouting at you - he threatens to empty a bucket over you. You pretend to crease up laughing and point at the bucket you emptied over there, showing everyone that you will be doused in paper stars…but… and it is a big but…while I ‘m pretending to fill the car with petrol, you keep on laughing and pointing at the buckets and Bozo until he tips his bucket over you. I have to warn you. It’ll be real water in his bucket! You collapse into the car again looking amazed and horrified. We drive out and swerve round the lion-tamer’s cage as it is being driven into the ring.” “Oh,” said Colin. “As simple as that!” “Yes,” smiled Olivia. “Only beware of Bozo. His real name is Xristope and he doesn’t like you. He doesn’t like me, or even Suzanna his sister. He doesn’t like anyone except himself.” “Great!” groaned Colin. “What a charmer!” He patted his little dog. “Never mind, Sammy boy, we’ll give it a go, eh?” Throwing out his chest dramatically he announced, “Let the rehearsal commence!” “Oi!” came a voice from outside the ring. “I give the orders round here!” It was Bozo or Xristophe, Suzanna’s nasty big brother. He strode into the ring and stood next to the petrol-pump. “Get on with it then!”

The next forty-five minutes passed very quickly for Colin, as they practised the clown act several times, and, fortunately for Colin, without any water. He had decided to seal the bookmark in a small, clear plastic bag to protect it from the water in Bozo’s bucket. By now Colin was smiling. He had really enjoyed being a clown, and Sammy had loved riding around in the noisy little car. He gave a happy bark. Colin’s face fell at the extremely grudging praise he received from Bozo. “Well, it’ll have to do, I suppose. Don’t forget to play the audience for laughs, Droopy. In our business timing is everything. Don’t be too pleased with yourself either. The dog did better than you!” “Yes,” chuckled Colin. “He usually does!” “Come on, Colin. Don’t take any notice of him.” Olivia was pulling him by the arm. “Let’s go and eat at the staff café. It’s not a café really, just a large caravan. And don’t worry about Bozo Bonehead. He’s always like that, but beware! Maybe his bite is worse than his bark! Remember, I know a little about fairs and circuses.” “What do you mean?” asked Colin, as he sat down at one of the tables in front of a large caravan parked on the grass of a local park. He put a bowl of water down on the ground for Sammy. “Bozo wants the circus all for himself. The owner, Uncle Leo, is retiring. Bozo resents having a sister to share it all with.” “Has he tried any dirty tricks to get her out of the way?” “Not so far, but I wouldn’t put it past him. I’m keeping my eyes open. Oh, and I think you make a very funny clown.” “Thank you, my lady,” grinned Colin. He stood and gave a little bow. As they tucked into some delicious circus hamburgers, Olivia told him that the circus was a sell-out for that night’s performance, and accordingly later that evening Colin was not surprised to see all the people with eager faces streaming into the big top to take their seats. It was not long before the ringmaster, Suzanna and Xristophe’s father, who was also of course Olivia’s Uncle Leo, a tubby, smiling

little man, wearing a shiny top-hat, introduced the first act, which was a group of young Ukranian men and women riders, who put their superb horses through their paces. Then it was Olivia and Colin’s turn to enter the ring. Bozo was already there next to the petrol-pump, and with his hands on his hips he frowned at everything they did. First Colin ran into the ring and deliberately tripped over his enormously long shoes and fell down. All the children in the audience laughed and also most of the adults. Bang! Bang! In came the noisy little clown car with Olivia driving and Sammy sitting proudly in the front passenger seat. He drew squeals of delight from the small children watching. Olivia pretended to drive the car at Colin, who flopped over the back of it into the rear seat. Bozo was still glaring angrily. Olivia stopped the car on the side of the ring opposite the entrance, so that Colin could step out and pick up his bucket. He was enjoying this immensely. He stepped up on to the low ledge that ran around the ring. He pretended to wobble and nearly fell a couple of times, as he walked carefully along it. Each time there were hoots of laughter. Then he pretended to aim his bucket at a big man seated in the second row, made a show of being frightened, turned round and danced along the ledge with his clown’s shoes flapping noisily. He came to a young couple in the second row, who were holding hands and smiling happily. The girl’s face, however, suddenly registered alarm, for she thought she was about to be drenched, but Colin turned once more neatly around and he emptied his bucket of shiny, spangled paper stars over a small girl and boy sitting with their parents in the front row. The kiddies giggled in delight, trying to catch in their small fists the tiny, glittering paper stars, as they floated and fluttered towards the ground. The audience roared their approval and clapped. Meanwhile Olivia had driven the clown car to the pretend petrol-pump and was making a great play of filling its tank. As Colin made his way towards the pump, Bozo continued to glare. He was wearing white gloves to match his white hat. Turning up his nose disdainfully, he lifted up another, much bigger bucket

and raised his eyebrows at Colin, who immediately pointed one index finger at it, and laughing exaggeratedly, kept pointing from his own bucket to the one held by Bozo. He milked the audience’s laughter with this. The children were squealing with glee. Colin bent forward at the waist to emphasise how funny he thought it was that the bigger bucket was full of paper stars. As he brought his head up, Bozo, with a spiteful, beaming grin tipped his halffull bucket of extremely cold water over him. It almost took Colin’s breath away, and the bookmark seemed to flutter briefly in his top pocket. However, he remembered his next move, which was to flop into the back seat of the car again, as Olivia drove it out of the ring. Unfortunately the person driving the lion-tamer’s cage into the ring at that very moment had done so too early and the little clown car seemed to smash quickly right through the lower bars and become stuck with its rear end protruding just outside the cage. Colin, Olivia and Sammy were trapped inside and so was a large angry-looking African lion, perched on a stool. The audience was stunned. There were gasps of dismay mingled with cheers from some people, who thought it was a planned stunt, just a normal part of the show. They all became concerned, however, when they realised Colin and Olivia were not moving, but unconscious in the car, and the lion-tamer came rushing up, frantically tugging at the doors of the cage, which had been bent out of shape in the crash. His key didn’t seem to fit the lock either. “No, no, no!” he cried. “This is the right key, but it doesn’t fit this lock! Someone must have changed it!” There was uproar. The spectators were all standing up. Uncle Leo came trotting into the ring, but could not make himself heard. Suddenly the lion opened its mouth wide and gave an enormous roar. It was both angry and frightened. Colin heard the animal’s distress, and although stunned by the unexpected accident, he felt for the bookmark in his pocket. It was not there! The lion roared again, turning its face towards the movement it had spotted in the car. Colin froze. Without the bookmark his enormous strength was gone. He feared for Olivia, Sammy and himself. He could just make

out the bookmark in its clear plastic wrapper lying on the floor of the cage. The plastic must have made it extra slippery to cause it to come out of his pocket so easily. Had the power of the signal been weakened? Was this the end? No. Suddenly a small furry animal launched itself out of the car, put a front paw on the bookmark still wrapped in its plastic envelope, and gave a thunderous roar. Again the audience gasped but this time in wonder. The lion appeared stunned. What was this fearsome creature in the same cage? Sammy roared again, this time even louder and even deeper. No one had seen a lion tremble before. It was cowering down on its stool with its forepaws over its face. Sammy just stood there on guard, as Colin helped Olivia, who now seemed fully recovered, out of the car. He went over to the little dog, and picked him up together with the bookmark. “Well done, Sammy,” he murmured, and he felt his familiar strength returning to him, flowing from the bookmark. Handing his pet to Olivia, he turned to Uncle Leo and the lion-tamer, who were standing bewildered outside the lion’s cage, as the onlookers continued to applaud. “Now to get us out of here,” he said, and stepping up to the steel bars of the cage, he took a single deep breath. Then grasping two of the bars in his hands, he bent them outwards to make a hole large enough for Olivia to get through. “Olivia, pass Sammy back to me please. We have one more job to do.” The bookmark seemed to pulse its agreement. “We must see to the poor lion, which has been scared out of its wits.” Slowly he lifted Sammy up towards the face of the ‘king of beasts’ still hidden behind its forepaws. Gently Sammy began licking both of these great paws. After a moment the lion warily uncovered one eye. It saw not a fearsome creature in front of it, but a friendly little one. Sammy had done it again. After all, in his port-folio or list of creatures charmed by him were an emu and a dragon! The audience were still whistling and cheering, as some circus hands manoeuvred the lion’s cage with the car still stuck in it out of the ring.

Olivia and Colin took a final bow with Sammy. Everyone loved them, except Bozo, who had been cornered by Uncle Leo and some of his men. It did not take them long to get him to confess to sabotaging the bars of the cage and changing the lock. He had also beckoned the driver transporting the cage into the ring to do so too soon. Uncle Leo was concerned about Olivia and Colin and Sammy too, since they had been in an accident, and he insisted that they were seen by the official circus travelling paramedic, who soon passed them as fit and well. Now it was time for them to depart. Olivia planted a kiss on both cheeks of Uncle Leo’s smiling face. “Goodbye, Uncle Leo,” she said. “You know, Bozo isn’t very bright. In this costume and this wig and under all this face-paint I must look like Suzanna. Please make sure she gets her fair share of this circus, when you leave.” “Oh, I will, my dear. I will,” he said. Then he patted Sammy on the head and rubbing his ears, added, “You’re a good boy, a dog in a million.” “Yes, he is,” agreed Colin, shaking Leo by the hand. “Goodbye, everyone.” He waved to all their new circus friends, who had gathered round. “We’ve got to meet up with Auntie Flo again and an emu…” This time, when Colin awoke in his armchair with Sammy and the book on his lap, Olivia was standing in front of him. Two clown costumes were folded over her left arm and she was holding a pair of ridiculously long shoes in her right hand. “What are we going to do with these?” she asked. “Save them for a fancy-dress party perhaps,” replied Colin. But that too is perhaps another story.

M and the Phantom Skateboard

 

Colin and Olivia were in Paris on their honeymoon, when the Burton family had an urgent phone call from Auntie Flo. She said that she had to go to Scotland to visit a friend, who was in hospital. “Well, Billy,” said his sister Jilly, “we’ll be able to control M, won’t we?” “Yes, I think so,” replied Billy, but things were about to take a turn that made his words seem rather optimistic. One morning M was looking out of Billy’s bedroom window. The emu gave a little hop, which usually showed that he had noticed something that he found interesting. “What is it, M?” asked Billy. He peered past his large friend, but could see nothing unusual in the neighbouring back yards or gardens. M continued to stare at something, but it was still a mystery to Billy. It was later that day in the evening that he first began to suspect that M was planning something and that perhaps the big bird did not want him to find out about it. Normally when Billy was playing cricket with his friends in the park, M would run around happily watching the game. Once Billy noticed that he was looking at something at the far end of the park, and when he saw Billy looking at him, it was as if he pretended that it was nothing at all, for he snapped his head round to look at the cricket again. M wasn’t always very good at looking innocent. It was clear that he had something on his mind. You never knew with him though. He would go for days carrying on with his normal routine (i.e. normal for an emu invisible to most people) and then something would spur him into a frenzy of activity. It was at the beginning of autumn that Billy noticed a further change in his emu friend. He still accompanied Billy and Jilly to school, and in the evenings he sometimes watched T.V. with them, whilst their parents were completely unaware that he was in the room. Occasionally he would just disappear. Jilly did not mind, and Billy thought nothing of it. After all M would be quite safe.

They never thought about what he might be doing, when they were asleep. Now, however, he appeared to be secretly excited. His eyes gleamed. This could be a sign of trouble ahead. Their neighbours in the street were the first to notice it. At first they were rather puzzled. Then they became more mystified, and the more nervous among them grew rather alarmed. Jilly and Billy only heard about it one morning, when their mother was hanging out the washing in the back garden. Billy was finishing his breakfast in the kitchen and Jilly was helping Mrs. Burton. Suddenly their rather eccentric neighbour, Hilda Barker, whom Billy often referred to as Mrs. Barking because she seemed quite mad at times, popped her head over the fence and said, “Did you hear it?” “Hear what?” asked Mrs. Burton. “That noise last night. It were ‘orrible, really strange, weird I’d say. It nearly frightened me to death.” “Well, you’ve lived to tell the tale,” remarked Mrs. Burton wryly. Mrs. Barker was hardly listening. She hardly ever did, but she was very good at talking. “It seemed to be nothing at first. You could hardly hear it. My Geoff…” (She always called her husband My Geoff, although his name was really Albert.) She paused for breath, but before the others could get a word in she continued. “My Geoff he didn’t hear anything ‘cos he’s deaf, you know. Anyway I heard it. I thought it was outside, maybe in the garden. I got out of bed and looked out of the window, but I couldn’t see anything much, nothing out of the ordinary, but I could hear it.” Mrs. Barker was now in full flow and Billy had come out to stand in the doorway to listen, as the kitchen door was open and he was intrigued. Mrs. Barker went on. “I could still hear it. Then it seemed to be outside in the street.” “What sort of noise was it?” interrupted Billy deliberately. He realised that M was standing behind him, staring beadily at Mrs. Barker. “Well, it were a sort of low rumbling sound.”

“Could it have been a car or a lorry?” suggested Mrs. Burton. “Or a motorbike?” Jilly added. “No, no. It were different. A low rumbling. You know, Sinatra.” “Oh, you mean sinister,” said Jilly brightly. “Whatever. It came and died away like thunder but without lightning. When it died out, it took me a long time to get back to sleep. I were that frightened! My Geoff just slept through it all. I think I’d only been asleep a couple of minutes, when it came back again and woke me up. I’m such a light sleeper anyway.” Jilly, Billy and their mother looked at each other, and tried not to laugh. Mrs. Barker a light sleeper? She was to say the least slightly overweight. Mr. Burton humorously called her ‘slightly big’. However, Mrs. Barker continued to prattle on. “When it came back, this ‘orrible rumbling sound, it grew louder and louder. It was as if it was right outside in one of the gardens. Then there was a clang, yeah, a clang, as if it had hit something and then it just stopped. Believe me, I couldn’t get to sleep again after all that! And I know I won’t sleep much tonight worrying!” “Oh, I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.” Mrs. Burton tried to calm her neighbour, who had a reputation for exaggerating things. Even the other neighbours agreed that she often made a drama out of nothing. However, the following night it was Jilly, who heard the strange noise. A low rumbling outside woke her up. It was fading into the distance, as she rushed to her bedroom window, but it was too dark to see very much. She could just make out a couple of sheds in the back gardens below, so she went into the guest bedroom, overlooking the street. The streetlamps shone onto a few cars parked at the kerbside. The street itself was deserted, but a few lights in the upstairs windows were on. A few curtains were parted with people peering out. Jilly stayed looking out a couple of minutes, and then went back to bed, as nothing seemed to be happening. She had just dropped off to sleep, when the noise woke her again. She rushed to her bedroom window. The rumbling had stopped, but a security light had come on in a garden two houses away and M was strolling

down the path with a little smile on his face. Jilly was getting quite good at reading M’s facial expressions. However, neither she nor Billy knew how M slipped in and out of the house. Hmm! She’d have to talk to Billy, but in the morning. However, in the morning it seemed that everyone in their street was talking about the mysterious night-time noise that had woken them up. The long summer holidays were nearly over and school would start again next week, so Billy was up early before going to play cricket with his mates in the park. He was finishing his breakfast, when Jilly came in, almost bursting to tell him her news. Of course M was there in the kitchen with them, but he showed no interest in what they were saying, although he understood every word they said. “Billy, I heard it. The noise in the middle of the night.” Jilly told him what she had heard and seen. Then she remembered another detail. “When I was looking down the main road, I could hear dogs barking everywhere. They must have woken up lots of people.” Her brother was not completely convinced that M was somehow involved. “Well,” he said, “all this only happens at night. If it does again tonight, come and wake me.” “O.K.” said Jilly dubiously. Obviously, if Billy was planning anything, he was not telling her. Possibly this was so that M wouldn’t find out either. Jilly spent most of the day with her friends Carla and Julie. They too had heard the strange noise and also some of the wild rumours that were going around. For example the sewers were haunted by a ghost train: the city was about to be attacked by aliens living in Manchester: the government were secretly drilling for oil or jambutties. Billy pretended to be indifferent to all these stories, but he had decided what he was going to do that night. He said goodnight to his parents, Jilly and M. He went into his bedroom, turned off the light, took off his shoes but lay down on the bed fully dressed. He was quite comfortable, and in the darkness he soon drifted off

to sleep. This time it was he, who woke up first. Glancing at his alarm-clock, he saw the bright green figures. It was 2 a.m. He heard a rumble and then a clang from somewhere close by outside. He tip-toed to the guest bedroom just in time to see M disappearing rapidly down the main street, accompanied by a rumbling sound. He was moving in the direction of the park. Jilly had joined her brother at the window, and they saw lights come on in most of the upstairs bedroom windows in their street. Dogs were barking too. Only their parents seemed to be sleeping through it all. A few of the neighbours had put on dressing-gowns and had stepped outside onto the pavement. They were talking animatedly and some were pointing towards the park. Mrs. Barker looked odder than usual in an oversized yellow coat and a pink hair-net. People did not stay outside for long. It was too chilly. They drifted back indoors. Soon they quietened their dogs, which before long stopped barking. Peace had returned to the neighbourhood. Billy said to Jilly, “I’m sure it’s M. He’ll probably be back in half an hour or so. I’m putting on my coat and I’ll take a torch, but I’ll only use it if necessary. I’ll wait for M in the garden. Try not to wake Mum and Dad.” Billy was not far out in his guess about the timing of M’s return. However, he did not see what occurred at the far end of the street near the park gate. A solitary, average-looking, slightly balding, middle-aged man was wending his rather drunken footsteps towards his house nearby. After consuming several pints of beer too many, he was making his way home via the park, which he had entered and exited by crawling under a hedge. At one point he had tripped over on the grass and had fallen asleep under a bush. Now he was almost home. Suddenly he had the shock of his life. He sat down on the ground with a bump. With a loud rumble something whizzed past him and away down the middle of the deserted main road. He could not believe his eyes. They told his muddled brain that he had just seen a skateboard zooming down the middle of the road with no one on board! Of course he did not see M standing on it with one foot and propelling it like a scooter with the other. The

emu was enjoying the ride, as he mostly stood proudly with both feet on the board. Just before he reached the house where he lived, he turned off on a garden path on the left, as the upstairs lights of the houses in the street came flickering on again, as if marking his progress, and faces once more appeared at the windows. By now in the darkness he had almost got to the place in the neighbouring garden where he borrowed the skateboard each night. Even M was surprised, when Billy turned on his torch and said, “Hello, M.” The noise of the skateboard had again woken the whole street, and now lights were coming on in the rooms overlooking the back gardens as well as various security lights. M was about to let go of the skateboard, but he stopped, raised his head high and looked to his left. Billy had noticed something too. What was that white or maybe yellow van doing there in the back lane at this time of night? Its rear doors were open. “What’s going on, Billy?” His Dad and Jilly had come up the garden path, and were now standing behind him. “There’s a suspicious-looking old van parked next to the Johnson’s garden. It says ‘Emergency Plumber’ on it, but if they’re doing a job, they would have parked outside on the main road. And the Johnsons are on holiday still, aren’t they?” “Wait here, Billy, and you Jilly,” said Mr. Burton. “I’ll go and take a look.” Moments later he was back. “Jilly, get your Mum to phone the police. Tell them there is a burglary going on in Green Lane.” Meanwhile one of the robbers was sitting in the driver’s seat of the large van. “Get a move on, Arnie,” he grumbled. “You’ve got to load all that stuff there into the van. I can’t do it ‘cos of me back.” He pointed at the stolen items piled on the grass verge. The largest of them was a huge new television set. “Just a minute, Vinny. I’ll just pop back and get that camcorder you wanted.”

A minute later Arnie came ambling back with a small camcorder in the palm of his hand. He was staring hard at the screen open at the side of it. He was filming Vinny in the cab of the van. He had nearly reached the vehicle, when he realised that lots of lights were coming on in the houses and gardens and people were hurrying outside. Billy looked at M and winked. “Go on,” he whispered. M needed no further encouragement. He shot down the neighbours’ garden path on the skateboard. The huge Arnie had no chance. One moment he was about to step up into the van. The next he was lying unconscious on his back. Only Jilly and Billy saw what actually happened. Approaching at great speed down the lane, M timed it perfectly. At the last instant he stepped sharply on the back end of the skateboard and released it, so that it flew up and hit Arnie flush on the chin. Hearing a thud, Vinny leaned across the cab of the van to see what was going on. He saw Arnie out cold. Panicking, he wrenched at the key to start the engine of the van. Too late! M placed one large foot on the back of an old washingmachine that had been left in the back of the van, and slammed it into the back of Vinny’s seat. Vinny was unable to move because the seat had tipped forward, and his face was squashed painfully up against the windscreen. The weight of the washing-machine was too much for him to shift, what with his bad back. He tried desperately to start the engine, but to his amazement the key was plucked from his hand to disappear into thin air. M had taken it with his beak, flipped it up, and swallowed it! Billy’s Dad, his friend Joe, and several of the neighbours stood guard over the still unconscious Arnie, waiting for the police to arrive. Someone had covered him with a coat and had also phoned for an ambulance. With a whoop of delight Billy dashed to the front of the van and took some photos on Jilly’s digital camera. They showed Vinny’s face squashed in a grimace of dismay against the van’s windscreen. One of these photos even made it into the national newspapers with the caption ‘Caught ouch!’, and also onto national T.V. Mr. and Mrs.

Burton made sure that Billy and Jilly shared the money they were paid for this. Now they could buy Auntie Flo a great present for her birthday. Perhaps they could even buy M a present as well. A skateboard? But like all M’s other interests this one was short-lived. He was no longer interested in skateboarding. While rumours were still rife in their district, the most popular one was that the incidents were due to a remote-controlled vehicle of some sort. It was not long before it was all forgotten and M was into his next craze. Jilly and Billy found out about it, when Mrs. Barker was out in her garden again early one morning. She seemed to be having hysterics. “Just look at it!” she cried, pointing a finger at a large object nestling in one of her flower-beds. “It’s a giant moth!” “Yeah, moths spread their wings like that,” grinned Billy. “No, it’s not a moth. It’s far too big,” remarked Jilly calmly. “Oh no! I’m sure it moved!” moaned Mrs. Barker, wringing her hands. “It’s all right, Mrs. Barker. I’ll fetch it,” said Jilly, and she hopped nimbly over the fence. She could see M lurking at the end of their own garden. Without hesitating, she picked up the offending object and held it out to Mrs. Barker. “It’s only a paper aeroplane, although it is rather large.” “Oh, oh!” Mrs. Barker was nearly sobbing with relief. “I thought that ‘orrible business was starting up all over again.” “No, no. This is probably Billy’s. I’m sure he meant no harm. In fact it’s probably bigger than him!” It was. When Billy measured it later, it was more then two metres wide! He frowned at M and told him, “If you’re going to make these things, they’ve got to be much smaller. Don’t go frightening old ladies again! I’m in enough trouble as it is because of you!” From then on M only made small paper aeroplanes, folding them neatly with his bill, and holding them down under his foot. Of course he made so many of them that Billy was blamed for all the litter that had started to appear in their garden. One day

the monster aeroplane, which M had made first and which he had lovingly painted with his own fantastic designs, disappeared from Billy’s room. However, Billy did not get blamed, when it was discovered stuck in a tree in the park by the same drunken gentleman, who was making his way home again at night, and who could never understand why people didn’t believe him, when he tried to convince them that aliens really had landed. Surely they were everywhere!

Colin Meets the Untouchables

 

Olivia had said to Colin that she really should go to stay with Auntie Flo in Liverpool in order to help her with moving house, especially as she had suddenly at the last minute gone with him on the circus adventure. She would only be away for a couple of days and knew that her husband could well look after himself and Sammy. “Besides you’ll tell me all your adventures, when I get back,” she said. “Maybe I’ll see M as well. He’s staying with Billy and Jilly at the moment. Now it was Friday evening and Sammy was lying in Colin’s lap in the favourite armchair. Colin was turning the pages of his special book, whilst his special bookmark glowed warmly in his top pocket. After the mishap at the circus he now kept that pocket firmly zipped up. Without any warning the phoenix bookmark suddenly pulsed, and when Colin looked up, he saw that he and Sammy were in a long, broad street of towering skyscrapers. He glanced down to see that he was wearing shiny black shoes, a smart dark pinstripe suit, black shirt and white tie. He took off his hat and looked at that as well. It was a black fedora with a broad white band round it. He also noticed that he had a black violin-case tucked under one arm. Sammy, although a sensible little dog, was on a lead. The lights were on in all the buildings and it was already dark. It was cold and there was a chilly wind blowing. This was why there were no other pedestrians on the street. There was little traffic either, but the style and makes of car he saw told Colin where and when he was located. “Sammy,” he breathed, “we’re in Chicago in about 1930. Wow! This is going to be some adventure!” He was standing on the sidewalk looking into the lighted windows of a restaurant, which made up the bottom storey of one of the skyscrapers across the road. Gradually he became aware of the low growl of a car approaching slowly. Instinctively he stepped back into the shadows of an unlighted doorway. The car crept on and then stopped on Colin’s side of the road opposite the restaurant.

Suddenly two men, dressed similarly to Colin, leapt out of the vehicle, clutching machine-guns. The noise of the continuous shots was deafening, as they sprayed the front of the restaurant with bullets. Then, almost as quickly, the men were gone, whisked away at great speed in the car, also black. Wood and glass from the wrecked windows of the restaurant lay on the ground. There were bullet-holes in the brickwork. Colin raced across the road with Sammy. He cautiously entered through the shattered doors, which hung limply from the framework. He called out, “Hello! Is there anyone there? Is anyone hurt? It’s O.K. I’m not a gangster.” There was no reply until Sammy woofed. Slowly a hand appeared over the shattered counter in front of the bar, where some glasses and bottles, also shattered, still stood forlornly on what was left of the shelves. The hand was followed by an arm and then the face of a small man with dark hair, olive skin and a large black moustache. “Don’t shoot, mister!” he pleaded. Sammy woofed again. This seemed to reassure the man, who was still trembling. He frowned and then said something quite surprising. “You’re not from the city. You sound like a limey, yeah like the English guys, who come in here sometimes.” “Yes,” agreed Colin. “You’re right. By the way, I’m Colin. I saw it all.” He held out his hand and the other man gripped it firmly. He too was stronger than he looked. He said simply, “I’m Luigi. This is…This was my restaurant. I run it with my daughter Anna.” “Where is she? And where are all your customers?” enquired Colin. “She is perhaps in the back, and the customers are up on one of the higher floors. I think Anna is calling the police right now. Not that they’ll do very much. Anyway, sir, I mean Colin…I may call you Colin, yes?” Colin nodded and the little Italian hurried on. “It was thanks to you that no one was hurt or killed.” “Me? I didn’t do anything at all!” remarked Colin.

“Oh yes you did. You were there. We all saw you on the other side of the street. It was like a warning. What do you say? An omen. We knew something bad was about to happen. You look exactly like a gangster in those clothes. I got everyone outta the back door here.” At that moment they heard the wail of a police siren, and a police car and an ambulance drew up in front of the restaurant. Two burly cops threaded their way through the broken glass. The first one snapped, “How many bodies? How many casualties this time?” Luigi stepped forward. “It’s unbelievable, officer. Nobody was killed. Nobody was hurt. Not a scratch!” The cops were obviously amazed and were staring at Colin suspiciously. However, they seemed quite alert. The older one said, “Stadtler, you can send the ambulance back. You know what to do. Report in. No casualties. None at all. Thanks.” Then turning to Luigi and indicating Colin with his thumb, he asked, “Who is this guy?” Colin answered politely. “Good evening, officer. I’m Colin. From England.” Luigi jumped in excitedly. “Let me explain. This man saved all our lives, me , my daughter and all our customers.” He went on to tell how spotting Colin across the street had been their lucky break. “Hmm.” Officer Brubeck was not entirely convinced, but he bent down to pat Sammy on the head and ruffle his ears. Sammy had that calming effect on people. Brubeck pointed at the violincase still tucked snugly under Colin’s arm. “Mind if we take a look at that, sir?” “Sure. Go ahead,” said Colin, handing him the case. Again the bookmark pulsed reassuringly. Colin already knew what was inside. The policeman unlocked the clasps that held the lid closed. Inside was a beautiful violin. Colin smiled. “I assure you, officer, this violin hasn’t been fired recently, and certainly not by me!” “Do you play much, sir?”

“Not at all. It belongs to my friend M. I’m looking after it for him. It’s too valuable to be left lying around. There is so much crime these days.” “Er, so you say.” Turning to Luigi, Officer Brubeck asked, “Why did they shoot up your place?” “I got behind with my payments.” “The usual? Protection money?” “Yeah. And I’m really angry now. I didn’t think they would go so far as to do this.” “Who do you mean by ‘they’?” “The Uggliano Brothers. They put scars on their faces to show how tough they are. Some of the scars are said to be real.” “Oh, them,” said Officer Stadler, who had just come back in. “The Ugglies. Yeah, we know them. Their hit-man is supposed to be the meanest guy in the city. They call him Frank Tutti, the Enforcer. Oh yeah, it’s just them you’re up against!” He shrugged his shoulders, as if to say that it was a hopeless case. Officer Brubeck addressed Colin. “Well, sir, as you’re the principal witness, I’d like you and Sammy here to meet someone back at the police department H.Q. He’s maybe the best guy we’ve got.” “O.K.” Colin had an inkling who it might be, but he said nothing in case he was disappointed. After saying goodbye to Luigi, he and Sammy were whisked away in a car to the Transportation Building and escorted up to the third floor before being ushered into an office. It had a few easy chairs. A good-looking man of medium height and with his dark hair parted down the middle rose to his feet to greet them. He held out his right hand for Colin to shake, and said simply, “Hello. I’m Eliot Ness.” For twenty minutes Eliot Ness, the leader of the Untouchables, a unique group of police investigators, who could not be bribed or blackmailed, questioned Colin about what he had seen. Colin had even given details of the car’s number-plate and a dent in its fender.

With a grim smile Ness concluded, “Yeah. It’s the Ugly Brothers all right.” Colin could sense the gently glowing bookmark influencing the situation, as Eliot Ness than said, “Well now, Colin, I know this is most unusual and normally I would not consider asking a civilian to put himself at risk, but I can tell you are an exceptional guy. Maybe it’s bending the rules a little, or even a lot, but I could swear you in as a special agent in the Untouchables. You, and of course Sammy, would have as much protection as we can offer, but it’s also not without danger.” Colin did not hesitate. “We’re in,” he said. Sammy woofed his approval. Shortly afterwards Colin was sworn in as Special Agent Minus One, as he would not appear in any official records. Then he was shown into another room, where he met the other members of the team, Frank, Vito, Henry, Carlo, Davy and Walt. “As you probably know, Colin, besides demanding payment of ‘protection’ money from all sorts of businesses big and small, these gangs get a lot of their money from bootlegging, that is smuggling in and selling alcoholic drinks illegally. Whether we agree with it or not, thanks to the Volstead Act nobody in the United States of America is allowed to consume any alcoholic beverage, be it beer, whisky, brandy, gin, or whatever. That’s what we call Prohibition.” Colin nodded. He had read a lot about it. Ness went on, “Any ideas, Colin, how we could set up a sting against them?” Once again Colin did not hesitate. “Yes,” he said. “Use me as bait, as a decoy. Get word to them that I’m the new guy on the block, that I’m planning to take over all their operations, that I have some mysterious hold over them that they don’t know about yet, and perhaps I have left this evidence against them with a lawyer somewhere - They’ll be both intrigued and worried about that - and finally tell them that I, Collino, will be waiting to take out one of their main liquor warehouses tomorrow night.” It was agreed. As in all of Colin’s adventures time seemed to pass very rapidly, as they all planned the details of the trap. They would

use several cars. Some of the Untouchables would dress like Colin and pose as armed henchmen. So it was that just before 1 a.m. Colin hammered on the doors of a warehouse in a Chicago suburb. “Open up! The Boss is here!” he yelled. “Your new Boss!” At first nothing happened. Then a slot at eye-level opened in a small door at the side of the main one. A voice called what sounded like, “Who da hecka you?” “You heard, dumbo. Your new boss Collino. Open up pronto, and come out here to say hello.” “Nah, you come in foist. We gonna make you real welcome.” There was the sound of a bolt being drawn back and the small door swung open. Colin stepped through with his violin-case under his arm. He was holding it as if it were a tommy-gun with his finger already on the trigger. Vito, heavily armed, took up position just inside the door. Inside the warehouse was lit by a few bare bulbs hanging on wires from the ceiling. A cement-mixing machine with its barrel turning slowly and steadily stood in front of the rear wall. Some large, wide buckets, which were more like bowl-shaped containers, surrounded it. Besides the small man, who had opened the door, there were only three other men waiting in the large, almost empty space. They were sitting at a low table. These were indeed the Ugly brothers. Colin recognised two of them as the men, who had shot up the restaurant. They were huge but smaller than their leader, who sat in the middle. He spoke. “So, little man, you are the great, frightening Collino, who is going to rob us of our empire? So kind of you to drop in. We have plans to drop you in too.” He chuckled harshly. Like a fool, idiotico, you come alone.” “Not quite,” replied Colin calmly. “Listen and look.” He pointed at the floor on the far side of the huge warehouse shed, where a pool of liquid had appeared. It was spreading rapidly and flowing down a drain set in the floor. “That is the work of my crew. Already they are smashing your hidden barrels of beer.”

“What!” roared Tony Uggliano, the gang-boss. He rapped out the order in rapid Italian. “Get him, Guido!” Immediately a shot rang out and immediately Guido fell to the floor, writhing in pain, screaming and clutching his knee. Colin had felt the bookmark twitch, as it sent the bullet back to the man, who had fired it. “So,” sneered Tony, completely ignoring his brother, who had not stopped writhing in agony, “there are still two of us against you, one itsy-bitsy little man…” “Yes, my friend,” answered Colin, “but I have a secret weapon here.” Colin snapped open his violin-case, and Sammy leapt out. He grabbed Enzo, the other brother, by the ankle and with surprising strength brought him crashing down to the ground, where he lay stunned. The little dog bared his small teeth next to the man’s throat and made alarming-sounding deep growls. Tony Uggliano was standing now, his face red and contorted in fury. “I’ve got you, you little punk!” he roared, reaching for Colin, who easily avoided him and with the bookmark throbbing playfully, grasped the far larger man by the front of his jacket and slammed him feet first down into one of the buckets. Holding him standing there with his extremely powerful right hand, with his left he flipped a lever on the cement-mixer. Cement began flowing into the bucket around Ugly Tony’s feet. “Oh dear! I’m so sorry,” said Colin. “Your spats are getting spattered!” The huge gangster struggled hopelessly to step out of the wide bucket, but could not escape Colin’s incredibly firm grip. “I do hope this is quick-drying cement,” added Colin cheerily. It was. Within minutes the gangster-boss found that like many of his own victims his feet were encased in a solid, unbreakable lump of cement. Unlike his victims, however, he was not going to be tossed into the lake. He moaned loudly, knowing that his life of crime was probably over and his prison life was only just beginning.

By now Guido had passed out and lay unconscious on the floor. “O.K., fellas,” called Colin. “You can come in now.” The other Untouchables entered the main warehouse from different directions. Vito had caught and handcuffed the fourth gang member, who had fled at the first sign of trouble. Henry, Frank, Walt, Davy and Carlo were carrying the pickaxes they had used to split open the barrels of beer. Finally Eliot Ness appeared, carrying a large ledger. He was smiling broadly. “Guess what we found in your office, Ugly Tony,” he said. “Written records of all your dirty businesses. How careless of you! We can even get a warrant now for the arrest of Frank Tutti! And you do seem to have got mixed up in some mucky businesses yourself!” He pointed at the bucket of cement around the crimebosses’ feet. Looking proudly at his crew, he announced, “We’ll take him back just as he is, guys. I can’t wait to see his photo in that in all the newspapers!” So it was that somehow Ugly Tony with his hands handcuffed behind his back was heaved unceremoniously into the back of a police van along with his brother Enzo. Meanwhile Guido had been carted off to hospital under police guard. Soon the van arrived at police headquarters, where Ness had arranged for the gentlemen of the press, both reporters and photographers to meet them. Most of the officers at the station had a go at shoving Tony, none too gently it must be said, on his concrete base. He really was like Mr. Wobbly Man, always returning to an upright position from whichever direction he was pushed. Even the Mayor came to join in the fun, and one of the photos in the next edition of the Chicago Tribune showed Ugly Tony pushed almost horizontally. The Mayor was grinning gleefully because he thought the picture would gain him a lot of votes from the public. Soon though it was time for Colin and Sammy to take their leave. Colin shook hands with all his new friends, the Untouchables and particularly Eliot Ness. Luigi gave him a big hug.

“Goodbye, my friends. Goodbye,” said Colin. “As you have no doubt realised by now Sammy and I are from another place and another time.” The bookmark throbbed once in his pocket and then Colin found himself back home again in his armchair with Sammy. He glanced at the clock. 7.30 in the morning. He stood up, placed Sammy gently down on the floor, and went to put his black fedora hat with the wide white band and also his violin in its case into his box of souvenirs from his adventures. Olivia would be home soon, and now there was another adventure to tell her about.

Colin and the Witches of Mells

 

Peck! Peck! Colin did not like being woken up in the middle of the night, especially by an emu that was invisible to nearly everyone else. Peck! Peck! Again! M was being most insistent. Colin groaned and opened his eyes to peer at the bright green figures on his radioalarm clock. 2.16 a.m.! Oh no! It was the middle of the night! He sat up in bed trying not to disturb his wife Olivia. Now what was the dratted emu doing? He was pointing with his beak at a bright red glow in the top pocket of Colin’s jacket, which he had hung over the back of a small chair standing in a corner of the bedroom. Was his special bookmark summoning him to another adventure? Really it was quite annoying at this time of night. He did not want to disturb Olivia, who was pregnant with their first child. He would have to leave her a note. Quickly he slipped his jacket on over his pyjama top and pulled on the jeans he had worn yesterday. He could only find an old pair of moccasin slippers in the dark of the room despite the light from the bookmark, which seemed to flashing an urgent warning. He nipped downstairs and wrote a note for Olivia. “Darling O., Summoned by bookmark. Don’t know when, I’ll be back. Hope it’s soon. Love C.” Sammy was now awake and joined Colin and M around the special book. Colin took the warmly glowing bookmark in his right hand and opened the book with his left. The red phoenix on the bookmark seemed to direct Colin to a certain page. He opened the book, and glanced at what he was wearing now - some sort of knee-length coat, knee-length trousers with a buckle at the knee, and fashionable riding-boots - everything in black. He swept off his hat, also stylish and black, and realised that perhaps he was in the seventeenth century. Was he about to meet the legendary and much exaggerated highwayman Dick Turpin? No, surely not. That would be about a hundred years later. From his clothes he thought he could be a person of some importance in these times. The bookmark must have brought him to wherever he was for a purpose, and M was

standing beside him. Sammy must have stayed at home to guard Olivia. It was an overcast day with grey skies, but at least it was not raining. Colin thought that perhaps it was late autumn, maybe towards the end of October. He became aware of some voices raised in anger. Shouts and jeers were coming from the other side of a small grass-covered hill nearby. M stalked up and stood on top of it, for nobody else would see him. Colin, keeping his hat low over his eyes and lying flat on the grass, peered cautiously down at the scene below. A hamlet of thatched cottages lay spread out next to a wide expanse of water surrounded by tall trees. The noise was coming from a large group of villagers standing round a wooden structure, which had a seat suspended over the lake. Two thickset men lounged next to the ropes that held the chair in place. Strapped into the chair was a terrified old woman, wearing a long brown dress, a grey shawl and a white bonnet. The crowd was jeering and pointing at her and a young woman standing next to her. Colin did a double-take. Astonished, he looked closely at the face of the young woman. He could have sworn that she looked rather like his Auntie Flo in photographs of her in her younger years that he had seen only recently at her house. Quickly Colin scrambled to his feet. M trotted down the hill with him towards the angry crowd. “Ho there!” cried Colin. “What do you think you are all doing?” All the faces turned towards him. All the voices fell silent. A short, heavy-looking man stepped forward. Thrusting out his jaw aggressively, he snarled, “And who be ye?” Immediately Colin realised that he needed to appear a more powerful person than this man. Thinking on his feet, and because of his black clothes and also because of his liking for a certain series of T.V. programmes, he blurted out, “Sir Colin Blackadder.” He gave a small bow and then snapped, “And who be ye, sir?” The leader of the villagers seemed taken aback, but recovered to say, “My name, sir? ‘Tis Roger Phillipo.”

Colin raised his voice. “So I ask you again. What are you all doing?” M cocked his head slightly, as if listening intently. The old and the young woman, the focus of the villagers’ wrath, had suddenly become much calmer. Maybe they were aware of the emu? “Well?” challenged Colin. “Isn’t it obvious, Sir…” Phillipo hesitated suspiciously…”Sir Colin? All of us here in the village of Mells are holding a trial of those two witches yonder.” He pointed a grubby forefinger at the two accused women. “Old Mother Garneys and her granddaughter have been doing the Devil’s work. They cast a spell on my farm and three of my cows died this week.” Colin glared at the farmer. “And what proof do you have of this?” Phillipo glared back. He spoke again slowly and emphatically. “My…three…dead…cows. That old ‘un lives alone with a witch’s familiar, a black cat.” Colin put his hands on his hips, threw back his head and laughed scornfully. “What? You call that proof? Animals get ill, just like people. Animals die, just like people. Some animals die because they are not looked after properly, and some old people keep a cat as a sort of friend. Your proof is nothing. Nothing at all.” Phillipo tried to interrupt, but Colin held up a hand. “Let me finish. Did you perchance cast a spell on your own cattle or cause their deaths in some other way and now you want to blame someone else? And how many cats do you have at you farm? Six? Seven? Twenty?” “What? How dare you!” Phillipo’s voice rang out in righteous outrage. Colin refused to budge. “Those kinds of lies and rumours can work against anyone. You have no real proof at all, do you? Only superstition and fear. Should I have a word with your local magistrate about you? What’s his name?” He clicked his fingers, as if trying to remember. Someone in the crowd said, “Simon Catchpole.” “Ah, yes, that’s right,” said Colin, as if remembering.

Phillipo drew himself up to his full height, which made him almost as tall as Colin but probably twice as broad. “I’ll prove that she’s guilty that Old Ma Garneys. She’ll take a fine ducking.” “And of course, if she’s innocent, she’ll drown!” scoffed Colin. “But then she’ll be proved innocent!” Phillipo was smiling now, showing two rows of black and yellow teeth. Faced with such blind, unfeeling stupidity, Colin was getting more and more angry. He saw that M had edged towards the ducking stool. The crowd had grown restless at the lack of action, and were calling for the accused woman to be ducked in the water. Suddenly Colin roared, “Silence! The accused should be allowed to say something in their defence.” He moved towards Mother Garneys and her granddaughter. “Ladies, speak.” Someone in the crowd jeered, “Ladies?” “Go on. Speak,” Colin encouraged them. The young woman turned fierce eyes on Farmer Phillipo. “He’s the one to blame. He made false accusations against us. Lies, all of them! He wanted me for his wife, but I spurned him. I would never marry a cold-hearted fool like him. He has an evil nature and no shame. He’s the one driven by the Devil!” Phillipo strode towards her, his face convulsed in fury. Pointing his grubby finger again, he roared, “Guilty! Duck the old woman now, me lads!” The two hefty yokels were about to release the ropes holding the ducking-stool above the water, when they both found themselves sprawling in the gooey mud at the side of the lake. Only Colin had seen M make short work of them with his strong beak. “Grooah!” they spluttered, trying to spit the foul-smelling mud out of their mouths. The villagers crowding round the duckingstool were astounded. “Stand back!” Colin moved towards them. They all shrank back fearfully. Once more he raised his voice. “Enough of this senseless cruelty! These two women are no more guilty of the stupid crime

you accuse them of than the rest of you are.” As Colin began releasing Mother Garneys from the straps holding her to the chair, Phillipo suddenly launched himself towards him. He was stopped by Colin’s strong left hand clamping round his neck and by an invisible emu standing on his boots. “But they are guilty” he yelled, thrashing about helplessly with his arms. “Really?” smiled Colin. “Do you know what it feels like to be falsely accused and to be threatened, to be faced with the idea of an undeserved, cold, terrible death at the hands of complete fools? I suspect you do not.” Turning to the other villagers, he went on. “Well, perhaps I should show you!” The young woman, who looked like Colin’s Auntie Flo, had put her arms comfortingly around her grandmother now sitting on the grass. Everyone was staring at Colin, who roughly slammed the protesting Phillipo onto the seat of the ducking-stool and quickly strapped him firmly to the frame. “Now, Roger Phillipo, what say you? Guilty or not?” “Guilty. They’re guilt…” He did not manage to finish the word, as Colin and M expertly worked the machine. The farmer disappeared under the water with a huge splash. For some reason most of the onlookers cheered. Some of the children clapped their hands. Colin and M left Phillipo under the surface of the lake for several seconds before pressing down on the poles of the frame to bring him spluttering into the air. Giving him a moment or two to recover, Colin repeated his question. “Guilty or not?” “I said they are guilt…” Again the farmer did not complete what he was saying, as M plunged him into the murky water once more. When they raised him a second time, Colin asked once more, “Guilty or not?” This time he added, “I mean are you guilty or not?” He rubbed his chin. “Let me see. I think I’ve got this right. “If you are innocent, you will drown”

By now the villagers were laughing and pointing at the drenched figure of Farmer Phillipo. With a thunderous look on his face Colin turned on them. “You miserable idiots! Have you not learned anything? Don’t you understand?” Most said nothing or shook their heads. He was furious now. “Can you not see? Are you all mad? Think for once in your lives! If these two women really possessed magic powers, would you all be standing here unharmed? No! They would have struck you all down. You would all be dead or dying, covered in horrible weeping sores and oozing blood!” Turning back to Phillipo, who was coughing and shivering, he said sternly, “Now you know what it’s like to be tormented and tortured even when you are innocent. Did you enjoy it?” Philippo gulped and shook his head. “Go on then. Say it. Are those two women guilty of witchcraft?” The farmer scowled and muttered, “No.” The bookmark throbbed once and Colin’s eyes sent a piercing look that made Phillipo wince. “Before I release you, do you swear on your own life that this is the end of the matter?” “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” grumbled the captive. As Colin freed him from the ducking-stool, two plump young women ran forward and wrapped a blanket round the shivering, shame-faced farmer. One of them cooed, “You’ll catch you death of cold. Come, we’ll look after you. There’s some hot soup waiting at our house.” “Hurry now,” added the other. Both were smiling broadly. Watching them depart, one of the villagers remarked, “They’ve been after ‘im for years yon Beth and Sarah Crimp. I doubt he’ll ever get away. He’ll wish he’d drowned on the ducking-stool!” The people of the village were beginning to drift away to their houses, but Colin organised several of them to break up the ducking stool and burn it on a bonfire. M was standing guard on Old Mother Garneys and her granddaughter. To Colin’s surprise they both appeared able to see the emu. “We like your big bird. He is truly handsome,” said the younger one. Please bring him to our cottage. There is someone we would

like him to meet.” A few minutes later they were in a little house beyond the hill where Colin and M had first appeared in the village. A small fire burned merrily in the small hearth, and a black cat was playfully wrapping its body round one of M’s long legs. The emu clearly liked the little creature, and had bent his long neck down almost to the floor so that he could get a closer look. “This is Minou,” said the young woman. “She helps us relax and sometimes to see beyond our time.” “I’m sorry, but I don’t know your name,” said Colin. “Her name is Florizella Jane Armstrong,” replied her grandmother. “Ah, I know someone just like you,” smiled Colin. The young woman smiled back. “Yes, and we thank you for saving us from that ignorant mob.” “Aye, young Colin, thank you indeed,” echoed the older woman. “I don’t think they will trouble you again. I’ve told them I may have a word with the magistrate to make sure they behave themselves in Mells.” Florizella blushed. “Oh, you mean Simon Catchpole. I find him rather pleasing.” Throughout their conversation Colin had not been able to stop smiling, partly because M and Minou were playing some sort of chasing game within the small room, and partly because he sensed that he had achieved what the bookmark had led him there for, although he was still not sure what that was. The old woman leaned forward. “Now, my dear,” she said, “we have something to tell our guest , although I feel he already vaguely knows. What brought you here, Colin?” “M woke me in the middle of the night. My wife was asleep and so was my little dog. Something told me I was urgently needed somewhere, and here I am.” “Yes,” continued the old woman. “We know you are from another place and from another time. We did not have the power to save ourselves. If we had not been rescued, or rather, if Florizella

had not been rescued, your family line would have died out. Your family, your wife and unborn child were in great danger. They would simply have vanished.” “Oh!” Colin’s gasp was mixed with anguish and relief. “Don’t worry. They are safe now. You will have a sign this very night. Farewell, Colin. Farewell, M. It is time for you to return whence you came.” The emu gave a little bow. He gently touched the top of Minou’s head with his beak, whilst Colin hugged both of the women. The bookmark flashed and the next moment Colin and M found themselves in the kitchen of Colin and Olivia’s house. Quickly he hid his seventeenth century hat in his box of souvenirs and hastily pushed into his jeans pocket the note he had written earlier. He would not tell Olivia about his latest adventure yet. Maybe he would wait until their baby was born. M seemed to nod his head in agreement. It was 7.30 a.m. and daylight. Olivia came into the kitchen. “Oh, you’re up early,” she said, giving her husband a hug and a kiss. “Yes,” smiled Colin. “I had something I had to do. But that’s another story.” Later that night at about 6 p.m. the doorbell rang. When Olivia and Colin went to the front door and opened it, two little girls wearing witches’ costumes stood there on the step. “Trick or treat?” they chorused. “Oh, it’s Sophie and Lucy from next door,” said Olivia. “Here. Help yourselves,” and she held out a huge bag of chocolates to them. “Thank you, Olivia,” said Sophie. “Thank you, Colin,” said Lucy. Then she said, “Would you like to see our new kitten?” and before either Olivia or Colin could reply she rushed off excitedly. About thirty seconds later she was back, carrying in her arms a beautiful black kitten. “Her name is Minnie,” said Lucy. Colin clapped his hands on his knees and burst out laughing. Olivia was amazed and puzzled. Sammy greeted Minnie with a little

bark, and M was doing what could only be described as a sort of tap-dance of delight all around the kitchen. On seeing Sophie, Lucy and then Minnie, Colin had immediately recognised the sign that Florizella’s grandmother had predicted. Now he could tell Olivia all about it, and this is the story he told her.

The Bank Siege

 

Colin was busy unloading the dishwasher and Olivia had just entered the kitchen, when there was a knock at the back door and in stepped Mr. Jellysox. To look at him you would not perhaps think much of Mr. Jellysox. He was tall and thin. The striking thing about him was his dress-sense. Apart from some middle-aged T.V. presenters few men could get away with wearing, for example, a dark green suit with a bright red shirt and a multi-coloured tie with strange shapes on it. Today he was wearing his latest holiday outfit - bright blue Bermuda shorts that came down to his scrawny knees, long green, brown and white socks that clashed somewhat with his red sandals and a short-sleeved orange shirt with a yellow tie! Some people would have said that he looked like an artist’s palette gone wrong. However, Mr. Jellysox didn’t care. It was a lovely sunny Saturday morning, he was wearing some very trendy sunglasses too, and he had a day off from his work at the library. As he had made his way through the back garden, he had patted Sammy, who had run up to greet him. Of course he had not noticed M, who was playing with Minnie, the little black cat from next door. However, as he walked in, he did notice his friends’ baby, Charlotte, sitting in her buggy, smiling up at him. Little Charlotte had Colin’s round face, but Olivia’s beautiful dark eyes and the same dark-coloured hair. “Hello, hello,” said Mr. Jellysox. “Isn’t it a lovely day?” Before Olivia or Colin could reply he bent down to tickle Charlotte under the chin. “Hello, Charlotte, my dear, he said. Mr. Jellysox was rather old-fashioned in his ways and he was rather taken aback, when the baby replied,” Hello Jez.” Colin and Olivia were regarding their friend with amused smiles on their faces. “We told you she was already talking,” said Olivia.

“Yes, she has been since she was two months old,” continued Colin. “She started walking at five months and…” “She no longer needs nappies,” finished Olivia proudly. “By the way, it’s her birthday next week. “Aren’t you a clever girl then?” smiled Mr. Jellysox, taking off his sunglasses and offering a finger for Charlotte to grasp in her small hand. “Extremely,” answered the baby, and she gurgled with laughter. Again Olivia and Colin could not help laughing at the astonished look on Mr. Jellysox’s face. Olivia stepped forward and hugged him. “Thank you for offering to take Charlotte out for a while. We have to wait in for the electrician. It’s such a nice day and she loves going out in her buggy in the fresh air.” Mr. Jellysox laughed as well. “I must say, little Charlotte, I’m very impressed. You are very bright. You could even be a chief librarian one day!” “As good as that!” Olivia nearly collapsed with a fit of giggles. Colin opened the back door, and Mr. Jellysox pushed the baby outside in her buggy. Both her parents stooped to kiss her. “‘Bye, love. See you soon. Take care of Old Jellysox,” joked her mother. It must have been about half an hour later that there was a beeping noise in the kitchen. “That’s your phone,” said Olivia. “I’ll get it.” She picked up Colin’s mobile, read the text message, paused a moment, and then, white-faced, passed it to her husband. He read, “We R in bank. Robbery in progress. R all hostages. J.” It was only much later that they would learn that the thieves had demanded all mobile phones be handed to them, but Mr. Jellysox had already hidden his in a pocket of Charlotte’s baby-buggy, and had managed to press the correct keys through the material. Colin was the first to react. “Come on, Olivia,” he shouted, pulling on his jacket, and dashing outside. As they leapt into their car and shut the doors, he called to M. “Come on, M. Follow us!”

He started the car, and they sped off down the road with the emu loping along easily beside them. It took them just five minutes to reach the town centre, and they managed to park the car within sight of the bank, but they could not get near it. The building was under siege. Inside the robbers were holding the staff and customers at gun point. Outside the police had cordoned off all the streets around it. Olivia rushed up to the nearest policeman. “Let us through!” she pleaded. “My daughter’s in there!” “Sorry, madam,” he replied. “No one is allowed through.” Colin tugged at Olivia’s arm. He spoke in a low voice. “Olivia, listen to me. There’s nothing we ourselves can do. The bookmark can’t help us, as this is not one of special book’s stories.” “But…but…” Olivia tried to protest. Colin put both hands on her shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes. “Olivia, Olivia, you’re forgetting about our secret weapon.” Then he stretched out his right hand and patted M on the back. “Go on, M. You will know what to do.” Then they watched, as the emu trotted towards the bank. Of course the police did not see him cross the road. They did not see him hop onto the ledge of an open window. Nor did they see him pass his head and long neck through the space at the top and squirm his body through as well. From that point on all Olivia and Colin could do was stand, wait, hope, and pray. It was only after the siege was all over that they eventually learned what had happened next and what M had done. Mr. Smith, the bank manager, was a friend of Mr. Jellysox, and he allowed them all to see the C.C.T.V. coverage of the bank robbery. The bank had recently installed the very latest security equipment. The pictures were in colour and in very sharp detail. The sound quality was also very good. The tape started with the four masked robbers entering the bank, blocking the two entrances, waving their handguns and shouting. In fact it was the gang-leader,

who was shouting the loudest. “This is a robbery! Get down on the floor! All of you! Yes, everyone! That includes you, missus,” and he shoved an old woman roughly onto the red and blue carpet. “Throw all your mobiles on the floor here!” The cameras had captured everything. Thirty frightened people, staff as well as customers, were lying on the floor, but Baby Charlotte in her buggy was watching it all. Still watching the video-tape, Olivia gasped, “Look!” She and Colin, (and Sammy of course) saw Baby Charlotte clapping her hands, as M slithered into the bank through the open window. The others, Mr. Smith and Mr. Jellysox just saw Baby Charlotte clapping her hands. Suddenly the noise of an alarm bell shrilled through the building, and the gang-leader snarled at the bank staff trying to hide behind the counters, “You shouldn’t have done that! Now all of you are hostages. Nobody gets out of here until we have all the money. Nobody! Understand? Nobody!” Meanwhile the other gang members had threatened the bank staff to start loading cash into four enormous canvas bags that they had carried in with them. Mr. Jellysox at that moment proved to be far braver than he had ever imagined himself to be. Rising to his knees and still grasping the baby-buggy, he called out to the gang-leader. “Please let the baby go. I’ll take her to the door, but I’ll stay as a hostage. Please let her go.” The robber snarled contemptuously, “Oh no you don’t, pal. She’s the most valuable hostage here. Get down! Now!” “But…” “I said, ‘Get down! Now! You deaf?” “No. No,” said Mr. Jellysox softly, as he sank down on the floor. “Well done, Jez,” said the watching Colin, patting Mr. Jellysox on the shoulder. “Yes, thank you, Jez,” echoed Olivia. The next moment their attention was riveted to the screen. Suddenly one of the gang rose high in the air at great speed, crashing

into a fancy ornamental chandelier. Desperately he managed to cling to it. Then it began to swing from side to side before twisting all the way round and spinning back the other way. Next, going into reverse, it spun back in the opposite direction. By now the gunman was screaming, and, terrified, he dropped his revolver, lost his grip, and crashed down onto the floor, unconscious. Only Colin, Olivia (and of course Sammy) saw that it was M at work. Another gangster had been staring in disbelief. “What you doin’, Danny? This ain’t no time for gymnastics! Wooah!” His last remark was caused by him unexpectedly flying through a glass window without opening it first. M seemed to be enjoying himself. Outside Olivia and Colin had seen the robber appear in a shower of glass. Three policemen had dashed forward to arrest him before calling for an ambulance that was waiting in a side-street. Olivia and Colin had also heard the police call to the robbers over their loud-speaker system to come out and give themselves up. So far this had had no effect. Later Mr. Jellysox told them that Baby Charlotte’s eyes seemed to go from one robber to the next, as if knowing that something was about to happen to them. Of course he was unaware of the invisible M. Without the robbers noticing, a man sitting on the floor next to Mr. Jellysox, had managed to snag the gun the first gang member had dropped. Meanwhile the leader was getting more and more annoyed and frightened. Sweating and swearing, he gazed around, still clutching two large bags full of money. All M did next was to tap him on the shoulder with his beak, causing him to swing round. The bags got caught up in his legs just as M bit his gunhand. The gun dropped harmlessly to the floor. The very next moment the gangster found himself upside -down, having been dumped headfirst into the bag of banknotes. Neatly done, M! Baby Charlotte was laughing and clapping her little hands, as Mr. Jellysox leapt to his feet and drew the string tight on the bag containing the gang-leader. The man, who had picked up the gun, tapped it against the hollering gangster and shouted, “Shut up, you! If this thing is loaded, I can’t miss from here!” Immediately the trapped

man fell silent, except for a few muffled curses. Mr. Jellysox and his companion looked around to find the remaining member of the gang. Two extremely large ladies were sitting on the robber, who had fallen from the chandelier. “There he is!” shouted Mr. Jellysox. The fourth and last member of the gang could stand no more of these weird happenings. It was all unreal. He felt he was going crazy. Panicking, he made a dash for the double doors at the entrance to get away. It was not a good decision. In fact it was a very bad one. Just as he reached them one of the doors swung back and smashed into him, as he was running through. It was M at work again with one of his simpler tricks. Within seconds the man, still clutching his revolver, had been disarmed, arrested, and led away by two grinning police officers. Mr. Jellysox was enjoying himself now almost as much as M had been. First he rang Olivia and Colin on his mobile to tell them that their daughter was safe. Then he crossed to the open fractured window, and waved to the police outside. “You can come in now,” he yelled. “Crisis over. All hostages safe!” Colin winked at Mr. Jellysox. “You really are a surprising old devil!” he remarked. Mr. Jellysox smiled self-consciously. “Well,” he began, “I’m beginning to surprise myself these days. I spent a lot of time making a statement to the police, but I’m still not sure what happened in there. In the end it all seemed so easy. Child’s play really.” Sometime later, when they were on their own in their house and Charlotte was asleep, Olivia said to her husband, “You know, Colin, it was child’s play. Our little girl knew exactly what was going to happen in the bank today!” Yes,” agreed Colin. “I think she was controlling M, sort of telling him what to do next. She seems to have got some amazing powers already.” “Wuff!” said Sammy. He agreed too. Meanwhile outside on the pavement in front of the house the drunken gentleman, who a few weeks earlier had seen a phantom

skateboard whizzing down the street but not M standing invisibly on it, was making his way home after his usual evening in his favourite pub. This was on the other side of the park, and he had already crawled under two hedges to get this far. As he wandered along a little unsteadily, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something small moving in one of the back gardens. He turned and looked at it. Then he stared and rubbed his eyes to make sure. What he saw was a small black cat standing upright and floating through the air about four feet above the ground up and down the garden. What he did not see was that Minnie was standing on M’s back with her little neck resting against his rather large one. Now the drunk was certain. “It’s the aliens!” he thought. “I’m the only one who knows!” Tomorrow, if he remembered, there would be another letter from him to the local newspaper - but that’s perhaps another story.

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