Paddington Complete Novels. Michael Bond
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he noticed the tie-pin with the enormous diamond in the middle, he realised at once that he was dealing with someone very important. “Probably one of these society bears,” he thought to himself. But when he caught sight of Paddington’s old hat he wasn’t quite so sure. “Perhaps he’s a huntin’, shootin’, and fishin’ bear up from the country for the day,” he decided. “Or even a society bear that’s seen better days.”
So he held up the passers-by with a stern wave of the hand while they searched the pavement. As he guided Paddington back through the revolving door to Mrs Brown, who was waiting anxiously on the other side, he tried hard to look as if helping a young bear of quality find his bullseye was an everyday event at Crumbold & Ferns.
Paddington returned his salute with a wave of the paw and then looked around. The inside of the shop was most impressive. Everywhere they went, tall men in frock-coats bowed low and wished them good afternoon. Paddington’s paw was quite tired by the time they reached the Household Department.
As they both had some secret shopping to do, Mrs Brown left Paddington with the assistant and arranged to meet him outside the entrance to the shop in a quarter of an hour.
The man assured Mrs Brown that Paddington would be quite safe. “Although I don’t recall any actual bears,” he said, when she explained that Paddington came from Darkest Peru, “we have a number of very distinguished foreign gentlemen among our clients. Many of them do all their Christmas shopping here.”
He turned and looked down at Paddington as Mrs Brown left, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from his frock-coat.
Secretly Paddington was feeling rather overawed by Crumbold & Ferns, and not wishing to disgrace Mrs Brown by doing the wrong thing, he gave his own coat a passing tap with his paw. The assistant watched with fascination as a small cloud of dust rose into the air and then slowly settled on his nice, clean counter.
Paddington followed the man’s gaze. “I expect it came off the pavement,” he said, by way of explanation. “I had an accident in the revolving door.”
The man coughed. “Oh dear,” he said. “How very unfortunate.” He gave Paddington a sickly smile and decided to ignore the whole matter. “And what can we do for you, sir?” he asked, brightly.
Paddington looked round carefully to make sure Mrs Brown was nowhere in sight. “I want a clothes-line,” he announced.
“A what?” exclaimed the assistant.
Paddington hurriedly moved the bullseye to the other side of his mouth. “A clothes-line,” he repeated, in a muffled voice. “It’s for Mrs Bird. Her old one broke the other day.”
The assistant swallowed hard. He found it impossible to understand what this extraordinary young bear was saying.
“Perhaps,” he suggested, for a Crumbold & Ferns assistant rarely bent down, “you wouldn’t mind standing on the counter?”
Paddington sighed. It really was most difficult trying to explain things sometimes. Climbing up on to the counter he unlocked his suitcase and withdrew an advertisement which he’d cut from Mr Brown’s newspaper several days before.
“Ah!” The assistant’s face cleared. “You mean one of our special expanding clothes-lines, sir.” He reached up to a shelf and picked out a small green box. “A very suitable choice, if I may say so, sir. As befits a young bear of taste. I can thoroughly recommend it.”
The man pulled a piece of rope through a hole in the side of the box and handed it to Paddington. “This type of expanding clothes-line is used by some of the best families in the country.”
Paddington looked suitably impressed as he climbed down, holding on to the rope with his paw.
“You see,” continued the man, bending over the counter, “it is all quite simple. The clothes-line is all contained inside this box. As you walk away with the rope, it unwinds itself. Then, when you have finished with it, you simply turn this handle…” A puzzled note came into his voice.
“You simply turn this handle,” he repeated, trying again. Really, it was all most annoying. Instead of the clothes-line going back into the box as it was supposed to, more was actually coming out.
“I’m extremely sorry, sir,” he began, looking up from the counter. “Something seems to have jammed…” His voice trailed away and a worried look come into his eyes, for Paddington was nowhere in sight.
“I say,” he called, to another assistant farther along the counter. “Have you seen a young bear gentleman go past – pulling on a clothes-line?”
“He went that way,” replied the other man, briefly. He pointed towards the china department. “I think he got caught in the crowd.”
“Oh dear,” said Paddington’s assistant, as he picked up the green box and began pushing his way through the crowd of shoppers, following the trail of the clothes-line. “Oh dear! Oh dear!”
As it happened, the assistant wasn’t the only one to feel worried. At the other end of the clothes-line Paddington was already in trouble. Crumbold & Ferns was filled with people doing their Christmas shopping, and none of them seemed to have time for a small bear. Several times he’d had to crawl under a table in order to avoid being trodden on.
It was a very good clothes-line, and Paddington felt sure Mrs Bird would like it. But he couldn’t help wishing he’d chosen something else. There seemed to be no end to it, and he kept getting it tangled round people’s legs.
He went on and on, round a table laden with cups and saucers, past a pillar, underneath another table, and still the clothes-line trailed after him. All the time the crowd was getting thicker and thicker and Paddington had to push hard to make any headway at all. Once or twice he nearly lost his hat.
Just as he had almost given up hope of ever finding his way back to the Household Department again, he caught sight of the assistant. To Paddington’s surprise, the man was sitting on the floor, looking very red in the face. His hair was all ruffled and he appeared to be struggling with a table leg.
“Ah, there you are!” he gasped, when he caught sight of Paddington. “I suppose you realise, young bear, I’ve been following you all round the China Department. Now you’ve tied everything up in knots.”
“Oh dear,” said Paddington, looking at the rope. “Did I do that? I’m afraid I got lost. Bears aren’t very good in crowds, you know. I must have gone under the same table twice.”
“What have you done with the other end?” shouted the assistant.
He wasn’t in the best of tempers. It was hot and noisy under the table and people kept kicking him. Apart from that, it was most undignified.
“It’s here,” said Paddington, trying to find his end of the rope. “At least – it was a moment ago.”
“Where?” shouted the assistant. He didn’t know whether it was simply the noise of the crowd, but he still couldn’t understand a word this young bear uttered. Whenever he did say anything it seemed to be accompanied by a strong crunching noise and a strong smell of peppermint.
“Speak up,” he shouted, cupping a hand to his ear. “I can’t hear a word you say.”
Paddington looked at the man uneasily. He looked rather cross and he was beginning to wish he had left his bullseye on the pavement outside. It was a very nice bullseye but it made talking most difficult.
It was as he felt in his duffle coat pocket for a handkerchief that it happened.
The assistant jumped slightly and the expression on his face froze and then gradually changed to one of disbelief.
“Excuse me,”