Nathalia Buttface and the Most Epically Embarrassing Trip Ever. Nigel Smith
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to say, “Are you doing this to me too?”
“In, in, let’s go,” said Dad to Nat and Darius as he slammed the door and started the engine. Or rather, tried to start the engine. It coughed and banged and wheezed and went silent.
Mum waved her arms, exasperated. “You said you’d get this horrible old thing ready for the road!” she said. “How do you expect it to carry you across half of France if you can’t get it off the drive?”
“We can’t go! We have to stay here, what a shame, never mind,” shouted Nat as she scrambled out of the van, her heart leaping with joy.
“Nothing I can’t fix,” said Dad, hopping out. He lifted the bonnet and leaned right over to get at the engine. There was a scream from Mrs Possett opposite at number 26 who wished she hadn’t chosen that moment to stand at the window and take her net curtains down.
“You could stop Dad going,” Nat said urgently to Mum, out of earshot, “he does what you tell him.”
“No, he doesn’t,” said Mum, pleased at the thought all the same, “but anyway, it’ll be good for him to fix this silly house and prove to everyone round here he’s not totally daft and useless.”
But he is, thought Nat.
There was muffled clanging and swearing from under the bonnet for about five minutes, until Darius jumped out of the van, holding some kind of multitool he’d taken from his rucksack. “Let’s have a look,” he said to Dad. “I’ve fixed Oswald’s bike loads of times.”
Dad slapped him on the back and walked over to Mum. “See,” he said, “no problem. Darius is going to mend it.”
“He’s just a little boy, you moron!” yelled Mum. “You ARE daft and useless.”
Told you, thought Nat.
By now there was quite a crowd gathering on the pavement to watch what was going on. The neighbours knew there was always something fun to watch at Nat’s house. A lot of them preferred it to the telly. Nat and the Dog got back in the van and hid.
“But he’s brilliant with his hands,” said Dad cheerfully. “Who do you think fixed our washing machine last month?”
In the van, Nat cringed. Even she knew Dad had just made a massive mistake. Mum grabbed the nearest object from the pile of junk that had been chucked out of the van. It happened to be a rude garden gnome that Dad once thought was funny. Now he just thought it looked heavy and sharp. She advanced on Dad dangerously. He smartly backed off, towards the small crowd, who were really getting their money’s worth today.
“You said you got an engineer out,” she said quietly. Nat got worried. Most people get louder as they get angrier, but not Mum. She started off loud, then got quieter. She was deadly quiet now.
“Be fair, love, he did a great job, and he was much cheaper than a real engineer. You can pay him in Mars bars and Pringles.”
Dad had also discovered that if you gave Darius enough fizzy orange pop he worked twice as quickly, but interestingly, Mum got even madder when he told her that.
Nat watched through her fingers as the rude gnome went whistling past Dad’s left ear and took out Mister Sponge who was peeping over the privet. He went down like a sack of bricks, but whatever he shouted was lost as the van roared to life, sounding louder and healthier than ever. Darius, face covered in oil, gave them a thumbs up and a huge smile from the driver’s seat.
“Darius, right, get out of that seat, shut the bonnet, get in the back, quick,” shouted Dad, slamming the door. “Bye, love, sorry, have to dash, love you, gotta catch the ferry, bye!” And they were off, scattering the neighbours as they went.
By the time they got to the kennels, the Dog had licked all the oil off Darius and Dad noticed he had a lot of texts from Mum on his mobile. He wouldn’t let Nat see them, but she did manage to glimpse a few of the words. One or two were completely new to her. She made a mental note to ask Darius about them when Dad wasn’t listening.
They were now in the leafy bit of town where the kennels were. It was the bit of town that pretended to be countryside, even though there was now a massive busy road going right through it, and a kebab shop and off-licence on almost every corner.
Soon they turned down a driveway with a big sign saying ‘Pawlty Towers’. Mournful howling resounded from behind large dark hedges. The woman who came to meet them at the front gate was middle-aged and built like a huge Saint Bernard dog. Nat sniggered when she said her name was Bernadette. The lady shot her a stern glance.
Bernadette wore a quilted green jacket and horse-riding trousers, even though Nat couldn’t see a horse anywhere. She took one look at Nat’s miserable dog – who was being carried out of the van, bundled up in the bed sheets like a pile of wet washing – and turned up her nose.
“Well, we usually only take pedigrees,” she said. “On the phone you said he was a pedigree.” Nat looked at Dad. Here we go again, she thought. Dad would say anything to try and get his own way.
“Did I?” he remarked innocently. “I think I said there was some pedigree IN him. Would you not call him a pedigree then?”
“No, this is what we in the dog business call a mutt,” said Bernadette. She was going to say a lot more but just then Dad hoisted the Dog higher and she suddenly got an eyeful of the shorts. “Oh my goodness,” she muttered. “Oh dear me.” She went red and quickly turned round. “Yes, well, there is one space. I’ll lead the way. DO NOT walk in front of me.”
As they trudged up the gravel path, past the cages full of dogs, all now barking like mad, Nat whispered to Darius: “Right, remember what we planned.” Darius looked blank. “The plan,” said Nat. “My plan to rescue the Dog. The plan I planned. It’s all planned. I told you the—”
“Nah, I’ve got a better plan, Buttface,” interrupted Darius, hopping over cracks in the pavement.
Nat fumed. “You have NOT got a plan!” she hissed. “You never have a plan. You just do the first thing that comes into your head. That’s why you get on with Dad. He’s the same. A big chimp, like you.”
She did an impression of Dad crossed with a monkey: “Oh look, a banana, think I’ll eat it. Oh no, now here’s a coconut, yum yum, ooh and now there’s a tyre, I’ll swing on that. Now, what was I doing with that banana? No idea, because I’m a chimp, ooh ooh.”
“Is that girl all right in the head?” said Bernadette. “Can you get her to stop making animal noises? She’s upsetting the dogs.”
“Just do the plan, chimpy,” said Nat. “MY plan.”
Nat’s plan was really complicated. She’d not had a lot of time to think about it. If she’d have had MORE time maybe she’d have made it simpler, but either way, this was Nat’s plan:
They get to the kennel door.
Darius pretends to have a terrible sudden illness, involving general agonised thrashing about and foaming at the mouth (Darius liked this bit).
While everyone’s looking after Darius, Nat steals the keys to the kennels.
Nat finds a dog that looks just like her dog, and frees it.
Nat gives Darius a secret signal to stop thrashing/foaming.
They give the lookalike dog to the kennel lady, who locks it up.
They hide Nat’s dog under the blanket and escape with him back to the car.
But when they got to the cage, Darius refused to pretend to be ill, no matter how hard Nat pinched him. The kennel lady unlocked the door. The Dog whimpered and jumped into Darius’s arms. Still Darius just stood there. Finally, in desperation, Nat threw herself on the ground and began shouting:
“Oh