Oscar and the CATastrophe. Alan MacDonald
Читать онлайн книгу.
his brown tweedy suit with a checked bow tie. Sam thought he’d probably been born wearing a suit. Oscar eyed him suspiciously.
‘I imagine you’ve heard the news,’ said Trusscot. ‘We’re getting a new neighbour.’
‘So I gather,’ said Dad. ‘I expect you’re going to tell me who it is.’
‘As a matter of fact I can,’ replied Trusscot, smugly. ‘It’s Mrs Bentley-Wallop.’
‘Mrs WALLOP?’ giggled Sam.
‘Bentley-Wallop,’ said Mr Trusscot. ‘And I fail to see what’s funny about it. Perhaps you’ve heard the name?’
‘I haven’t,’ replied Dad. ‘I think I’d remember a name like that.’
‘Well from what I hear she’s from a wealthy family and she’s very well connected,’ said Trusscot. ‘She’s just the sort of person we need to improve this neighbourhood.’
Sam and Dad exchanged looks. Mr Trusscot was always talking about improving the neighbourhood. He complained that the Shillings’ doorbell played ‘Jingle Bells’ and their garden was a disgrace, littered with batteries and bike parts for Mr Shilling’s inventions.
‘In any case, she’s arriving this morning so you might want to tidy up,’ said Trusscot.
‘Why? Is there going to be an inspection?’ asked Dad.
‘I suppose that’s one of your jokes,’ said Mr Trusscot, frostily. ‘I’m sure we all want to make a good impression on Mrs Bentley-Wallop. I for one am very much looking forward to meeting her.’
‘Good, then I won’t keep you,’ said Dad.
‘Oh, and one more thing,’ said Trusscot. ‘You’d better keep your filthy dog away from her.’
Oscar bristled.
‘He’s not filthy,’ said Sam, crossly. ‘He had a bath last week and, anyway, he wouldn’t hurt a fly.’
‘Well I don’t want him upsetting Mrs Bentley-Wallop,’ said Trusscot. ‘My advice is to keep him indoors where he can’t do any harm.’
Oscar took a step forward and proceeded to give Mr Trusscot’s hand a thorough licking. He knew very well this would annoy him. Trusscot hated dogs and he didn’t want any of their slobbery germs. He pulled his hand away.
‘He’s only trying to be friendly,’ said Sam.
‘Well I’d rather he didn’t,’ snapped Trusscot, wiping his hand on a hanky.
‘Anyway, thank you for calling by and if we ever need your advice we’ll be sure to ask,’ said Dad. He closed the door and rolled his eyes at Sam.
‘Nincompoop!’ he said and marched back to the kitchen.
Sam waited till he was gone and looked at Oscar.
‘Uh oh.’
‘If he thinks I’m staying indoors to please him, he can forget it!’ said Oscar.
‘It’s only old Fusspants, ignore him,’ said Sam. ‘Anyway maybe Mrs Thingy Wallop likes dogs.’
‘Who doesn’t?’ asked Oscar.
‘Mr Fusspot for one,’ said Sam. ‘But I saw a pet basket, so maybe she’s got a dog herself. We should go next door and find out.’
‘All right, as long as it’s not a poodle,’ said Oscar. ‘They never stop yapping.’
Sam looked round as his Dad reappeared, heading upstairs.
‘Who are you talking to?’ he asked.
‘No one,’ said Sam. ‘Just, you know – Oscar.’
Dad sighed and shook his head.
‘How many times? He’s a dog, Sam. He doesn’t understand a word you’re saying!’
Sam had first discovered that Oscar could speak the day after he’d arrived on a number 9 bus. His very first words were: ‘I’m not an idiot, you know.’ Actually, those were his second words because on the first evening he’d murmured ‘Goodnight,’ just as Sam was about to go to sleep. Sam hadn’t believed his ears that time, but by now he was used to the fact that Oscar could hold a conversation. It was a secret known only to the two of them. Sam hadn’t told his parents or even his best friend Louie, although sometimes he wondered if Louie suspected. Next door the removal men trooped in and out as the morning wore on, carrying carpets and items of furniture. Sam saw white rugs, table lamps and even a couple of statues that had forgotten to get dressed.
Eventually a car drew up and Mrs Bentley-Wallop herself got out. Sam had to admit she was more interesting than Mr Trusscot who was about as glamorous as a cardigan. Mrs Bentley-Wallop had thick blonde curls, bright red lipstick and a double chin. She wore a long, grey, fur-trimmed coat. Sam thought she looked like a film star – although obviously quite an old one.
Back inside, he told his mum about their new neighbour.
‘Bigley-Wallop? Are you sure that’s her name?’ asked Mum.
‘Bigley or Bottomly, I don’t remember,’ said Sam. ‘But Mr Trusscot says we ought to keep Oscar indoors so we don’t upset her.’
‘Mr Trusscot can mind his own business,’ said Mum. ‘All the same we ought to make Mrs Whats-her-name welcome. Maybe I’ll pop round later to say hello.’
‘I’ll come!’ said Sam, eagerly. He’d never actually been next door. He wanted to know what the naked statues were for. Besides, he was keen to find out if their new neighbour had a dog. That would be the final straw for Mr Trusscot – two dogs on the road in barking distance of each other. He might even have to move to Australia.
After lunch they called next door. Mum took a tin of her homemade flapjack. Oscar came along but at the gate he stopped and hung back, leaving Mum to go ahead.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Sam.
‘There’s a funny smell,’ said Oscar, wrinkling his nose.
Sam sniffed. ‘I can’t smell anything.’
‘Your nose doesn’t work,’ said Oscar. ‘I know that smell and it means trouble.’
It was too late to go back now. Mum had rung the bell and Mrs Bentley-Wallop was opening the door. Sam hurried to join them. Their new neighbour wore quite a lot of make-up but that wasn’t what caught Sam’s attention – it was the enormous white cat sitting in her arms. It was as big as a pumpkin with green eyes that glittered when it saw Oscar.
‘We live next door,’ said Mum. ‘We brought you a little welcome present.’
‘Oh, how terribly kind of you!’ cried Mrs Bentley-Wallop in a plummy voice. ‘Flapjack! I haven’t eaten that in years!’
‘Mum made it. Her flapjack’s the best,’ Sam informed her.
‘I’m sure it tastes delicious!’ said their neighbour. Her face fell when she spotted Oscar. ‘Oh goodness, you have a dog!’
‘Yes, this is Oscar,’