Paddington Goes To Town. Michael Bond
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simpered, patting her hair.
“It’s a bit irregular,” whispered the fireman in Paddington’s ear, “and we don’t normally do it for people outside the service, but we’ve a big recruiting drive on at the moment and it’ll be good publicity. Besides, it’ll help calm things down a bit.”
“Thank you very much,” said Paddington gratefully. “I shall ask for you if ever I have a real fire.”
“It’ll make a lovely photograph,” said Harold persuasively, taking Deirdre’s hand and leading her across the room. “And it’ll be something to show the girls back in the shop.”
“If the ring won’t come off, perhaps I could come on the honeymoon with you, Mrs Price,” said Paddington hopefully. “I’ve never been on one of those before.”
Deirdre’s back stiffened as she bent down to sign the register.
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” said the fireman hastily, as he removed the ring at long last and handed it to Mr Price for safe keeping.
“Tell you what, though,” he added, seeing a look of disappointment cross Paddington’s face. “As you can’t go on the honeymoon perhaps we’ll give you a lift to the wedding breakfast on our way back to the station instead.
“After all,” he continued, looking meaningly at Mrs Price, “if this young bear hadn’t had the good sense to call us when he did he might still be wearing the ring and then where would you be?”
And to that remark not even Deirdre could find an answer.
“Gosh!” said Jonathan, as the Browns made their way back up the aisle. “Fancy riding on the back of a fire engine!”
“I don’t suppose there are many bears who can say they’ve done that,” agreed Judy.
Paddington nodded. A lot of things seemed about to happen all at once, and he wasn’t quite sure which he was looking forward to most. Apart from the promised ride he’d never heard of anyone having their breakfast in the afternoon before, let alone a wedding one, but it sounded a very good way of rounding things off.
“If you and Mrs Price ever want to get married again,” he announced, as Harold led Deirdre out of the church and paused for the photographers beneath an archway of raised fire axes, “I’ll do some more ’ushing for you if you like.”
Deirdre shuddered. “Never again,” she said, taking a firm grip on Harold’s arm. “Once is quite enough.”
Mr Price nodded his agreement. “It’s as I said in the beginning,” he remarked, from beneath a shower of confetti, “young Mr Brown has a habit of bringing people closer together in the end, and this time it’s for good!”
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