Paddington at Work

Paddington at Work Michael Bond Peggy Fortnum The irresistible Paddington Bear, who was found on Paddington station, returns in this reissued novel, with a brand new cover design.Paddington has a knack for ‘smelling out things’, and his sharp nose, supported by marmalade sandwiches, leads him into many adventures. Whether it’s lending a paw to a famous Russian ballet dancer, or serving baked elastic instead of ‘Baked Alaska’ this unforgettable bear is as trouble-prone and funny as ever!Stories of Paddington Bear have delighted children all over the world for fifty years. Copyright (#ulink_9b21313c-ba06-593d-8687-834bb34b2c6c) First published in Great Britain by William Collins Sons and Co. Ltd in 1966 New edition published by Collins in 1998 This edition first published by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2008 This edition published in 2018 Collins and HarperCollins Children’s Books are divisionsof HarperCollins Publishers Ltd, 1 London Bridge Street, London SE1 9GF. Visit our website at www.harpercollinschildrensbooks.co.uk Text copyright © Michael Bond 1966 Illustrations copyright © Peggy Fortnum and William Collins Sons and Co. Ltd 1966 The author and illustrator assert the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work. Cover illustration adapted and coloured by Mark Burgess from the original by Peggy Fortnum Originated by Dot Gradations Ltd, UK Printed in Great Britain by Clays Ltd, St Ives plc All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books. Source ISBN: 9780006753674 EBook Edition © OCTOBER 2011 ISBN: 9780007403011 Version: 2018-05-23 Contents Cover (#u54598225-d877-5cbc-a16d-54e30490ae3e) Title Page (#ucbc76c46-007b-5829-bb1d-3e357ac94339) Copyright (#u7790cb8f-ad98-5797-9316-bea758a98d30) 1. A Bear at Sea (#u92e28838-b8e9-5ab3-88c8-b01fd52bfbe7) 2. Anchors Away (#u17b57074-822b-511e-997e-de6962a3ad1c) 3. Paddington Buys a Share (#litres_trial_promo) 4. A Visit to the Stock Exchange (#litres_trial_promo) 5. Paddington in a Hole (#litres_trial_promo) 6. Too Much Off the Top (#litres_trial_promo) 7. Paddington Steps Out (#litres_trial_promo) Keep Reading … (#litres_trial_promo) About the Author (#litres_trial_promo) Other Books by Michael Bond (#litres_trial_promo) About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter One A BEAR AT SEA (#ulink_898c8bde-40f8-50c2-bece-95a4c9ff295a) PADDINGTON WOKE WITH a start and after blinking several times in order to accustom his eyes to the evening light, peered round the deck of the liner Karenia with a puzzled expression on his face. If he hadn’t known it was quite impossible, for the ship was still over two days’ sailing-time away from England, let alone number thirty-two Windsor Gardens in London, he would have sworn he’d just heard his name being called, quite loudly, not only by Mr Brown, but by the rest of the family – Mrs Brown, Jonathan and Judy, not to mention Mrs Bird into the bargain. Normally Paddington was rather keen on dreams. Some of the ones he’d had in the past had been very good value indeed, especially after one of Mrs Bird’s heavy suppers. But as he looked around the deserted deck of the great ship he began to decide that the one he’d just experienced seemed almost too real for his liking. It was that time in the day when the half-light from the setting sun plays strange tricks with the shadows, and with most of the other passengers still below and not even so much as the friendly white coat of a steward anywhere in sight, Paddington almost wished he hadn’t partaken of a second helping of the suet pudding which the chef had prepared especially for him that evening. Pausing only to dip one paw into a nearby jar of marmalade, he pulled his duffle coat hood more firmly over his head and then settled back again in the deck chair as he turned his attention to a large tin marked OSBORNE BISCUITS – PROPERTY OF P. BROWN ESQ. WANTED ON VOYAGE, which stood near by. Paddington liked Osborne biscuits, especially when they were covered in a thick layer of marmalade chunks, and soon a steady munching sound broke the stillness of the evening air. The journey to Darkest Peru in order to take part in his Aunt Lucy’s birthday celebrations at the Home for Retired Bears in Lima had been a long and enjoyable one, but all the same, now that he was nearing the end of the return voyage, Paddington was beginning to feel more and more excited at the prospect of seeing all his old friends once again, and after a moment’s thought he put this down as the cause of his unusually lifelike dream. Gradually the combination of a large and most enjoyable dinner, the sea air, and the distant throb of the engines far below, all had a soothing effect. In no time at all he was fast asleep again, and not even the plonk of an Osborne biscuit as it slipped from his paw and rolled across the deck towards the scuppers served to waken him. Paddington wasn’t quite sure when it happened, or how long it lasted, but suddenly he found himself in the middle of yet another dream and to his surprise it once again had to do with the Browns. As a dream it was, if anything, even more vivid than the first one. It all started when he dropped one of his biscuits at the top of a steep hill near Windsor Gardens. Instead of breaking or even falling over on its side, it landed edge downwards and immediately started rolling after him. Worse still, with every passing second it grew larger and larger, and as it grew larger so it rolled faster until in the end Paddington found himself running down the Portobello Road, in and out of all the market stalls, as fast as his legs would carry him. All the time, although he couldn’t see them, he could distinctly hear the voices of the Brown family calling out his name. And then the worst happened. One moment he was running along the road mopping his brow and glancing anxiously over his shoulder at the pursuing biscuit, the next moment it was just as if he had stepped into a great pool of treacle. The more he tried to move his legs, the more impossible it became, until quite suddenly he woke with a start and found himself sitting on the deck almost completely enveloped in his duffle coat. As he struggled free, Paddington discovered to his surprise that not only had he got one of his paws stuck inside the jar of marmalade but that in his excitement he’d also knocked over the tin of biscuits and quite a number of them had rolled out on to the deck. It was a large tin and it had been given to him by his Aunt Lucy as a parting gift just before he set sail on the return voyage to England. Even though he’d had to dip into it quite heavily on a number of occasions, there were still several layers left, and Paddington had no wish to lose any of them before the end of the journey so he spent the next few seconds hastily gathering up the remains. It was as he picked up the last of the biscuits that he suddenly froze in his tracks and stared along the deck at a group of five very familiar figures who had suddenly appeared out of a patch of shadow near the stern. Before he even had time to blink, the figures all began waving frantically and calling his name as they moved towards him in a body. Pinching himself several times in order to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, Paddington looked wildly about the ship for somewhere to hide and then, hastily scooping the remains of the marmalade back into the jar with one paw, he replaced the lid on his tin of Osbornes with the other and disappeared through a nearby door as fast as his legs would carry him. A few seconds later he emerged on the other side of the ship, took one last look along the deck in case he was still being pursued, and then paused before yet another door which had a red cross over the top and the words SHIP’S DOCTOR written in large red letters on the panelling. Paddington was a brave bear at heart and when something out of the ordinary happened he was usually only too ready to investigate the matter on his own account, but the events of the past few minutes had been altogether too impossible to explain for his liking and he was anxious to seek a second opinion on the matter. The Ship’s Doctor looked most surprised when the door opened and Paddington entered his cabin. “Have you got an appointment, bear?” he asked briskly. Paddington placed his belongings on the floor and put a paw to his lips as he bent down to lock the door. Because of his fur it was a bit difficult for him to actually look as white as a sheet, but there was something about the end of his nose and the way he stood that caused the Doctor to jump up from his seat in alarm. “Good gracious!” he exclaimed.”What on earth is the matter?” Paddington crossed the cabin towards the Doctor and collapsed into a chair in front of the desk. “I don’t think it’s anything on earth,” he replied ominously, casting an anxious glance over his shoulder. The Doctor sat down again and eyed Paddington nervously. “I must say,” he began, in an attempt at jollity, “you look rather as if you’ve just seen a ghost.” “I have,” said Paddington, feeling a bit better now that he’d reached the safety of the well-lit cabin. “Five of them!” “Five?” echoed the Doctor. “Dear me. I think perhaps you’d better tell me all about it.” “Well,” began Paddington, taking a deep breath. “It happened soon after I was chased by an Osborne.” “Soon after you were chased by a what?” exclaimed the Doctor. “An Osborne biscuit,” repeated Paddington patiently. The Doctor gave a nervous, rather high-pitched laugh. “You’re sure it wasn’t a Bath Oliver or a Garibaldi?” he asked. Paddington gave him a hard stare. “It was an Osborne,” he said firmly as he held up his tin. “It says so on the label. My Aunt Lucy gave them to me. It fell out of the tin and then it chased me all the way down the Portobello Road.” The Doctor looked at Paddington and then at the cabin door, almost as if he were measuring the distance. Although they’d passed quite close to each other several times on the voyage, it was the first time they’d actually spoken, and there was something about Paddington’s unwinking stare which was beginning to make him feel rather uneasy. “You were followed all down the Portobello Road by an Osborne biscuit?” he repeated casually. “That’s right,” said Paddington, pleased that he’d got his point over at last. “It was only a small one to start with, but it got bigger and bigger. Then I couldn’t move my paws.” “Couldn’t move paws,” repeated the Doctor, busily writing it all down. “They felt as if they had lead weights on them,” continued Paddington. “Lead… weights…” echoed the doctor, still writing. “Good. I’ll see what a little embrocation will do.” “Oh, that’s all right, thank you very much,” said Paddington cheerfully. “They’re better now. It was only because I’d stepped in my marmalade by mistake. I got one of my paws stuck in the jar.” The Ship’s Doctor removed his glasses, blew on them, and then stared first at Paddington’s outstretched paw and then at his highly polished floor where several marmalade chunks lay where they had fallen during Paddington’s hasty entrance. “Did anything else happen after that?” he asked distastefully. Paddington nodded. “I saw all the Browns!” he announced impressively. “Browns?” repeated the Doctor, not quite sure if he’d heard aright. “No greens or blues?” Paddington gave the Doctor another even harder stare. “Browns,” he repeated firmly. “There were four of them. And Mrs Bird.” “Mrs Bird!” exclaimed the Doctor. “You’re sure it wasn’t a seagull? It may have stayed on board after we stopped at the last port. They often do.” “A seagull!” exclaimed Paddington hotly. “It was Mrs Bird. From number thirty-two Windsor Gardens. I was sitting on the deck…” “Ah!” The Doctor’s face cleared as if by magic. “You’ve been sitting on the deck, have you? “Yes,” said Paddington. “I was having a bit of a nap after dinner. And then I had a dream – only it wasn’t one really.” “All day?” asked the Doctor. “In the sun?” “Well, I did have a bit of a sunbathe this morning after I’d been to the baker’s,” admitted Paddington. “And then another one this afternoon.” “You’ve been suffering from hallucinations, bear,” said the Doctor briskly, looking quite pleased that he’d solved the problem at last. “I’ve met this sort of thing before. Too much sun and people begin to imagine all sorts of things. Though I must say I don’t think I’ve ever come across anyone who thought they were being chased by an Osborne biscuit.” He opened a drawer in his desk and withdrew a bottle. “Sleep, that’s what you need, bear – plenty of sleep. I’ll give you some tablets to help you along.” Paddington’s face had been growing longer and longer during the Doctor’s recital and at the mention of the word ‘sleep’ it reached its longest ever. He’d had quite enough sleep for one day even if some of the dreams had been hallucinations. “But I did see the Browns,” he complained, looking most upset. “And it wasn’t a dream because I pinched myself. And they couldn’t have been there because they’re in London. So they must have been ghosts.” “Nonsense!” exclaimed the Doctor briskly. “There’s no such thing as…” His voice broke off and a strange expression suddenly came over his face as he stared at something beyond Paddington’s right shoulder. He gave a gulp, rubbed his glasses again, and then gripped the edge of the table. “Er… how many ghosts did you think you saw?” “Five,” replied Paddington, running through his list. As Paddington mentioned each name in turn the Doctor’s face seemed to go an even paler shade of white until by the time he reached Mrs Bird’s name all the colour had drained away. “You did lock the door when you came in, didn’t you?” he asked casually. “I think so,” said Paddington, beginning to look worried himself at the expression on the Doctor’s face. “It’s a bit difficult with paws, but…” Paddington looked round and as he did so he nearly fell backwards out of his chair with surprise. For there, before his very eyes, neatly framed in a large porthole next to the door, were five very familiar faces. Not just Mr Brown, whose face, pressed hard against the glass, had taken on an unusually flat and puddingy appearance, but Mrs Brown, Jonathan, Judy and Mrs Bird as well. Reaching across the table the Doctor picked up a telephone. “Get me the Master at Arms at once, please,” he barked. “And tell him to hurry. There’s something nasty going on outside my porthole. “It’s all right, bear,” he continued. “There’s no need to be alarmed.” Slamming the telephone receiver back on to its cradle the Ship’s Doctor turned back to Paddington and then broke off in mid-speech. He had been about to explain that help was on the way, but from the glazed expression on Paddington’s face as he lay back in the chair with his paws in the air it looked very much as if one occupant of the cabin at least was beyond caring. Mrs Brown dabbed at Paddington’s forehead with some eau-de-Cologne as he sat up in his bunk and stared round the cabin. “Thank goodness,” she exclaimed. “We thought you were never coming round.” “Every time you caught sight of us you fell over again,” said Judy. “We were getting jolly worried.” Paddington rubbed his eyes as if he could still hardly believe them. “I thought you were a halluci-something,” he explained. Mrs Brown turned to her husband. “It’s all your fault, Henry,” she said. “If we’d gone to the Purser’s office in the first place as I suggested all this would never have happened.” “I wanted it to be a surprise,” complained Mr Brown. “How was I to know Paddington would think we were all ghosts?” Mr Brown was looking a trifle fed up. It had been his idea that the Brown family should combine their summer holiday with a trip home on Paddington’s liner, meeting it at a point when it was still two days away from England. At the time it had seemed a very good idea and when they’d boarded the liner late that afternoon at its last port of call they had all been looking forward not only to the experience but also to seeing the look on Paddington’s face when they confronted him. They hadn’t bargained on his reacting in quite the way he had and Mr Brown was tending to get most of the blame. “Well,” said Mrs Bird, “I must say that if I thought someone was hundreds of miles away and then I suddenly met them face to face in the middle of an ocean I’d be upset.” “And at night,” said Judy. “I bet it was jolly frightening.” “Besides, I don’t think Paddington was the only one to be taken in,” added Jonathan. “I don’t think the Ship’s Doctor was too keen on us either.” “I’ve always heard sailors are supposed to be superstitious,” said Mrs Brown, surveying her husband as he helped himself to a sandwich from a pile next to Paddington’s bunk, “but you don’t look much like a ghost to me, Henry.” “I don’t think the Doctor thought so when he got over the first shock,” said Judy. “He looked jolly cross.” The Browns’ laughter was suddenly broken into by a tap on the cabin door. “I expect that’s my cocoa,” said Paddington importantly. “The steward always brings me some before I go to bed.” The others exchanged glances as the door opened and a man in a white coat entered carrying a tray laden with a large jug of steaming hot liquid. “This is the life,” exclaimed Mr Brown. “I must say I’m looking forward to the rest of the voyage. Sunshine and deck games all day. Bear’s cocoa last thing at night to round things off. Even a ghost couldn’t ask for more!” Paddington nodded happily as the steward sorted out some extra mugs and began to pour. He was keen on cocoa at the best of times, especially ship’s cocoa, which somehow always had a taste of its own, and now that the problem of the ghosts had been solved he was looking forward to his nightcap, particularly as it also celebrated the unexpected early meeting with the Brown family. He eyed the jug from behind a cloud of rich, brown steam. “There’s only one thing nicer, Mr Brown,” he announced amid general agreement. “And that’s two cups!” Chapter Two ANCHORS AWAY (#ulink_c39cc20a-94ba-5e76-adf4-2d438c0bb801) MR BROWN GAZED along the broad deck of the Karenia with a puzzled look on his face. “Has anyone noticed Paddington lately?” he asked. “He seems to be acting very strangely.” The rest of the family followed the direction of Mr Brown’s gaze and were just in time to see a familiar figure emerge from behind a lifeboat some distance away, stand for a moment staring up at the sky with a very odd expression indeed, and then hurry back to the rail. “He was all right at lunch time,” said Mrs Brown. “I do hope it’s nothing he’s eaten.” “Perhaps he’s got something in his eye,” suggested Mrs Bird, as Paddington stepped backwards and then almost fell over as he bent himself double in order to peer up at the sky again. “He was tapping the barometer outside the Purser’s officer earlier on,” said Jonathan. “I thought he was going to break it.” “And he’s got some seaweed hanging out of his porthole,” exclaimed Judy. “It must be something to do with the weather,” said Mr Brown, turning his attention back to the ship’s newspaper. “Perhaps he thinks we’re going to have a storm.” “Crikey! I hope not,” exclaimed Jonathan. “I don’t want to miss the party tonight.” “If I know Paddington,” replied Mr Brown, “he won’t, either. I expect that’s why he’s worried.” Satisfied with Mr Brown’s explanations, most of the family returned to their various activities. After a morning spent exploring the great ship they were only too glad to have a rest. Travelling on an ocean liner was an exciting event, not unlike being let loose in a miniature floating town, and with Paddington acting as guide, it was almost as tiring. During his long voyage he’d made friends with a good many of the ship’s crew, so that apart from visiting the shops, the swimming pool, the gymnasium and various lounges, they’d also been taken on a tour of inspection of the ship’s kennels, the bakery, the engine room, and many other places not normally open to the public. The only person who wasn’t quite satisfied with Mr Brown’s explanation was Mrs Bird, and she wisely omitted to mention that to the best of her knowledge Paddington didn’t even know there was a party taking place that evening, let alone that he was going to it. From past experience she knew only too well that whatever it was Paddington had on his mind, matters couldn’t be hurried and that all would be revealed in due course. Unaware that he’d been arousing so much interest, Paddington dipped his paw in a nearby mug of cocoa, held it up in order to see which way the wind was blowing, and then peered anxiously over the side of the ship towards the blue waters far below. All in all, he decided things looked much too calm for his liking. It wasn’t that he was particularly keen on rough weather. In fact, on the few occasions when the Karenia had been caught in a storm and he’d had to miss a meal he’d been upset in more ways than one. But for once, alone among the many hundreds of passengers on the liner, he was hoping, if not for a storm, at least for some weather rough enough to slow the ship down. It all had to do with the important matter of the ship’s sweep. Each day on the homeward journey the man in charge of the entertainments on board had run a ‘sweep’ in which passengers had been invited to say in advance how many miles the ship would travel during the following twenty-four hours. The entrance fee was twenty pence and the prize money went to the person who came nearest to guessing the right answer. Paddington had had several pretend goes during the voyage, but that morning he had for the very first time, and after a great deal of thought, actually invested his last remaining twenty pence on a ticket. In the hope that something unexpected might happen to slow the Karenia down before it reached port he’d made a wild guess lower than anyone else’s. However, now that he’d had time to view the weather he was beginning to regret his haste, for as far as the eye could see there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The sea was as calm as the proverbial mill pond and if anything, the ship seemed to be going faster than ever before. Paddington turned away from the rail, gave a deep sigh, and made his way along the deck towards the group of Browns. He was a hopeful bear at heart and despite the calm weather he still nursed a faint hope that something would happen which would cause the ship to slow down before the next morning. Losing twenty pence was bad enough at the best of times, but when it was your last one, matters became ten times worse. He was just toying with the idea of approaching the man in charge of the entertainments to see if he could get his money back when Mr Brown broke into his thoughts with the news of the party that evening. Paddington liked parties, especially unexpected ones, and when he heard that the one that evening was to be a fancy dress one with everyone in costume he quickly forgot about the problem of the sweep in the excitement of the moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever been to a party on a ship before, Mr Brown,” he exclaimed. “Neither have I, come to that,” admitted Mr Brown. “I must say I’m looking forward to it.” “They’ve got Barry Baird as Master of Ceremonies,” said Jonathan. “He’s the chap we’ve seen on television.” “He takes things out of people’s pockets without them knowing,” said Judy. “And he hypnotises people as well,” added Jonathan. Mr Brown rose to his feet. “I can see we’d better go along to the entertainments office and make sure of getting some costumes,” he said. “Otherwise there’ll be some long faces tonight if they’re all gone.” “Bags I go as Robin Hood!” exclaimed Jonathan. “I rather fancy myself as Mark Anthony,” said Mr Brown thoughtfully. “How about you, Paddington?” But Paddington had already disappeared along the deck. It wasn’t often he was allowed to dress up, and when it was dressing up and a ship’s party and an entertainment all rolled into one, then he was anxious to make sure of matters by being first in the queue. Paddington wasn’t the only one looking forward to the coming party. Gradually, as the day wore on, bunting and other decorations began to appear over the ship and as the time for the party drew near, strangely clad figures were to be seen flitting around the decks with an air of half-suppressed excitement. “I reckon Paddington could go as himself,” said Mr Brown, as they stood waiting for him by the entrance to the dance floor. “I’ve seen at least six bears already.” “Mercy me!” exclaimed Mrs Bird. “This isn’t him coming now, is it?” She pointed with her umbrella towards an approaching figure clad in what seemed to be a costume made up of several lengths of black concertina and a piece of white cardboard. “It’s Paddington, all right,” said Judy. “That’s his hat.” “I don’t think it really goes with evening dress,” said Mrs Brown. “It makes him look rather like a penguin after a night out.” “A penguin!” exclaimed Paddington, looking most upset as he caught Mrs Brown’s words. “I’m Beau Brummel – the famous dandy.” “Beau Brummel!” echoed Jonathan. “I thought he died a long time before evening dress.” “I must say you look more like a bow window to me,” said Mr Brown, as he examined Paddington’s shirt front. Paddington began to look more and more upset as he listened to the others. “They didn’t have many costumes my size left,” he explained, giving Mr Brown a hard stare. “Well, I’m sure he didn’t have marmalade stains down his front, whoever he was,” said Mr Brown lamely, as his wife dug him in the ribs. “That’s not marmalade, Mr Brown,” explained Paddington. “That’s glue!” “Glue!” repeated Mr Brown.”How on earth did you manage to get glue down your front?” “I’m afraid I had a bit of trouble with my dicky,” explained Paddington. “It’s a bit difficult with paws and it kept rolling up, so I had to borrow some special glue from the carpenter’s shop.” The Browns exchanged glances. “Well, they did say come as you like,” said Mr Brown. “Quite right,” said Mrs Bird, as she followed Mr Brown into the ballroom. “And as no one here has ever met Beau Brummel, who are they to judge?” “I think you look jolly smart anyway, Paddington,” said Judy, squeezing his paw as they made their way across the floor in the direction of the band. Paddington was very keen on bands, especially when they played loudly, and the ship’s band, although it was only small, seemed unusually good value in this respect, particularly as several of the musicians had to play more than one instrument. At the end of the first number he joined in the applause and then settled back in his seat as the leader, having bowed several times to the audience, raised his hand and signalled a fanfare on the trumpets to herald the arrival on stage of Bouncing Barry Baird, the Master of Ceremonies. “Are you all right, Paddington?” asked Mrs Brown, as she saw him examining his paws with interest. “I think so, thank you, Mrs Brown,” replied Paddington vaguely. “But I think something’s gone wrong with my claps.” Mrs Brown opened her mouth but then, as the applause died down, decided against it. There were some things better not inquired in to, especially when they were to do with Paddington. Up on the small stage Bouncing Barry Baird clasped the microphone as if it was a stick of rock and beamed at the audience. “Hallo! Hallo! Hallo!” he boomed. “How are all me old shipmates?” “All right, thank you, Mr Baird,” exclaimed Paddington from his position in the front row, raising his hat politely. Barry Baird seemed slightly taken aback at receiving a reply to his question. “I’ve got the bird before now,” he said, looking at Paddington’s costume, “but never quite so early in the act. I can see you’ve got your furbelows on, bear,” he continued, pointing towards Paddington. “In fact, come to think of it, you’ve even got fur below your furbelows!” In the applause which followed, Paddington gave Barry Baird a particularly hard stare. Catching sight of it suddenly, Mr Baird hastily averted his eyes and went on with his act. “What is it?” he asked. “What is it – and I’m offering no prizes for the answer – what is it that has a green head, six furry legs and one purple eye? “I don’t know either, Mr Baird,” called out Paddington, who had seen Barry Baird’s act several times before on television, “but there’s one on your back!” The applause which followed Paddington’s remark was even greater than it had been for Barry Baird and as it echoed round the ballroom the comedian put his hand over the microphone, leant over the footlights, and glared down at Paddington. “Barry Baird does the funnies here, bear,” he hissed. “So much for wit and humour,” he announced, as he straightened up and showed a row of gleaming white teeth to the audience. “Now we come to the serious part of the show. The fastest act you’ve ever seen, ladies and gentlemen. Before your very eyes – no mirrors – no deception – before your very eyes I will remove the entire contents of the pockets belonging to any gentleman in the audience who cares to step up here – and he’ll never know it happened! Now come along, ladies and gentlemen, all I’m asking for is one volunteer…” “Oh, crikey!” groaned Jonathan, as there was a sudden movement from the front row. “Trust Paddington!” Barry Baird seemed to lose some of his bounce as Paddington climbed up on to the stage, but he quickly recovered himself. “A big hand, ladies and gentlemen,” he boomed. “A big hand for this young bear gentleman who’s volunteered to have his pockets picked.” “He’ll be lucky if he gets anything out of Paddington’s pockets,” murmured Mr Brown. Barry Baird signalled to the band to start playing and then, talking all the while, he hovered round Paddington, his hands gliding up and down through the air like two serpents. There was a gasp of amazement from the audience as he held up first a pencil then a notebook for them to see. Paddington himself looked as surprised as anyone for he hadn’t felt a thing. Signalling to the band to play even faster, Barry Baird, his white teeth gleaming in the spotlight, circled the stage once more, waving his arms in time to the music. Suddenly he stopped and the expression froze on his face as he slowly withdrew his hand from one of Paddington’s side pockets. “Uggh!” he exclaimed before he could stop himself. “What have you got in there, bear?” Paddington examined Barry Baird’s hand with interest as the music came to a stop. “I expect that’s a marmalade sandwich, Mr Baird,” he replied cheerfully. “I put it in there in case I had an emergency. I’m afraid it’s a bit squashed.” Barry Baird, who looked as if he was about to have a bit of an emergency himself, stared at his hand for a moment as if he could hardly believe his eyes, and then gave a rather high-pitched laugh as he turned to face the audience. “I’ve been in some jams before now,” he announced feebly, “but this is the first time I’ve ever been in a marmalade sandwich!” Wiping his hands on a small square of silk which he withdrew from his top pocket Barry Baird mopped his brow and held up his hand for silence as he turned hurriedly to the next part of his act. “I want everyone,” he announced, “to raise their hands above their heads and clasp them together.” While the audience did as they were told, Barry Baird took a length of string from his pocket, tied a key to one end, and then set it in motion like a pendulum. “Now,” he said as the main lights went dim again and the swinging key was illuminated by a single spotlight, “I want you all to watch this key carefully as it goes from left… to right… to left… to right… to left…” Barry Baird’s voice grew soft and caressing as the light went lower. “I’ve seen this trick done before,” whispered Mr Brown with a chuckle. “You wait till they put the lights up again. There’s always some chap who can’t get his hands apart again.” “Gosh!” groaned Judy, as the lights suddenly went up and everyone relaxed. “Look who it is!” “I am surprised,” said Mrs Bird. “I should have thought Paddington would be more likely to hypnotise Barry Baird than be put under himself. Some of those stares he’s been giving him have been very hard.” Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/michael-bond/paddington-at-work/?lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.