Labradoodle on the Loose
Read Labradoodle on the Loose Online
Authors: T.M. Alexander
For Beth,
my lovely niece
First published in Great Britain in 2011
by Piccadilly Press Ltd,
5 Castle Road, London NW1 8PR
www.piccadillypress.co.uk
Text copyright © T.M. Alexander, 2011
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner.
The right of T.M. Alexander to be identified as Author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN: 978 1 84812 133 1 (paperback)
eISBN: 978 1 84812 189 8
1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
Printed in the UK by CPI Bookmarque, Croydon, CR0 4TD
Cover design by Patrick Knowles
Cover illustration by Sue Hellard
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My Friend Is Completely and Utterly Mental
Slim, Bodger, Rasher and Teapot
A Party Without The Guest Of Honour
Bee's Birthday Surprise . . . At Last
Fifty came round at half-past eight in the morning, which was odd because it was half-term and all normal eleven-year-olds were in bed. I got the door because Mum had left for work with Flo (who was going to her new best friend's house) and Amy was still asleep (and would be until lunchtime). I would have been asleep too but I forgot to draw my curtains so the sun lasered through my eyelids at six o'clock.
âWhat's up?' I asked.
He grunted. That was odd as well â Fifty likes to talk. I got the biscuit tin out â sugar's his favourite thing. He took a bourbon, ate it, took another.
âSo what's up?' I said again.
He ate the second bourbon. âNothing.'
There was no point trying to fool my I've-known-you-since-you-wore-Thomas-the-Tank-pyjamas lie detector. I gave him a look.
He sighed. âProbably Rose has gone to nursery.' His little sister is actually just âRose' but they didn't decide on her name for weeks so everyone went around saying âShe's probably Rose' and it stuck.
âSo?' I knew Fifty didn't want his mum to send his little sister to nursery but I wasn't sure why. I went to nursery. So did he. Copper Pie's mum
runs
a nursery. So what?
âShe went yesterday for the morning and she
didn't
like it.' He stuck his bottom lip out.
âHow d'you know?'
âShe told me, of course.'
Yeah, right!
Rose can say âyes', âno', âyoghurt' and âstar' (which means lightbulb). That was it. I decided to change the subject. Fifty is far too obsessed with his sister. âMum's left us some stuff for a Tribe picnic. She said there's loads, enough for two Tribes.'
Fifty grinned. âThere's only one Tribe.'
âWe could take it to the park. Meet everyone there,' I said.
âSame,' said Fifty.
I looked at my watch. âAt . . . ten o'clock?'
âOK.' He got out his phone. âI'll text the Tribers.'
I got crisps, Marmite, bread and the packet of chocolate
cakes out of the cupboard. And ham, cold sausages, pork pies and butter out of the fridge. While we made the sandwiches the texts came back:
yes
from Jonno, Bee and Copper Pie. The Tribe picnic was on. There were four days left of the holidays. It was sunny.
Ace
. I crammed the picnic and a rug in my rucksack.
âWhat about drinks?' said Fifty.
âWe can buy them from the ice-cream van.'
We were off. It's not far to the park, but it seemed forever because Fifty stressed about his sister
all
the way. I adopted the usual strategy, which is to answer âYes' or âUmm', or nod.
âYou know they just leave the babies in those bouncy seats.'
âYes.'
âAnd don't change their nappies.'
I nodded.
âKids get bitten at nursery.'
âUmm.'
âYou got bitten by Annabel Ellis
every
day.'
That needed a proper response. âThere
won't
be an Annabel Ellis at her nursery,' I said confidently.
âLet's hope not. Because if anyone upsets Probably Rose, they'll have
me
to deal with,' said Fifty. As he's small (half the size of everyone else ââFifty' percent, get it?) and cute-looking, it didn't seem much of a threat. I would have completely forgotten about it, except that he said it again later, but not to me this time . . . to the police.
Bee was swinging on the gate to the play area, making it clang really loudly. âHi,' she said.
âAnyone else here?' I asked.
âDoodle,' she said.
âThat wasn't what I meant.'
âYou're anyone, aren't you, Doodle?' Bee stroked his head. She used to hate him because of the chewing (of shoes), dog hair (in her breakfast) and yelping (in the middle of the night). It was when Jonno went puppy training with her that it got better. Now they always carry dog treats in their pockets.
âRose is at nursery today,' said Fifty. âAnd not getting picked up till
two
.'
âLucky Rose,' said Bee.
As she spoke I heard a familiar noise. We knew to move, and sharpish â it was Marco on his mountainboard accelerating our way. We all leapt onto the gate.
Clang!
He turned at the last second â just before certain impact â flipped his board in the air and caught it. Unreal!
âHello, Marco,' said Bee.
âHi. Can I lend the dog?' It was an odd thing to say. Marco comes from Portugal but his English has got pretty good since he's been at our school.
Bee used her favourite (and only) Portuguese word. â
Que?
'
âThe dog.' Marco pointed.
âWhy do you want Doodle?' said a voice. It was Jonno, glasses on the end of his nose as usual, with Copper Pie.
Marco tried to explain. We didn't understand. He gave up, got a stone and drew a picture on the pavement of what he wanted. It was a boy on a board with a dog dragging it along, like a husky.
âWhy do you want to do that?' said Jonno, pushing his frizzy hair back.
âI see a boy, going fast with a dog.' It sounded fun. We all looked at Bee to see if Doodle was going to be allowed to be a husky.
She moved her black fringe out of her eyes. âOK, but me first.'
We went over to the other side of the park by the big hill where there are always kids doing tricks on bikes and
skateboards. Bee put her feet in the strappy bits on the board, bent forwards and stuck her bottom out. That wasn't going to work. Marco tried to straighten her up but the wheels moved and she yelped and grabbed on to him. Doodle sat at the end of the lead having a good gnaw on Copper Pie's black trainers. I didn't bother telling him.
âTry without the dog,' said Fifty.
Bee handed the lead to Jonno. âWhat now?' she said.
âMove the knees,' said Marco.
She did. The board moved, but Marco steadied it. She fell off anyway.
Learning to mountainboard might take a while
, I thought.
Bee kicked the board over to Marco. âYou show me.'
When you can already do something without thinking it's really hard to show anyone else. I'm like that with surfing. Because I can do it without trying, I have to kind of watch myself do it in my head to explain it to anyone else. Marco didn't even try. He just scooted off, perfectly balanced, did a jump to turn and sailed back. That was the only lesson Bee was getting.
âIt looks easy,' said Jonno.
âCan I go with the dog?' said Marco.
Bee nodded. Jonno handed him over. Marco waved the lead, which I think meant âGo'. Doodle stayed by Copper Pie's tasty trainer. Marco did it again. Same result.
âI think you'll have to move first,' said Jonno. âDoodle can't read your mind.'
Marco pushed off. Doodle got up and ran behind. That wasn't what Marco wanted. He came back over. âHow can I make the dog do the pull?'
âHe needs something to chase,' said Fifty. âLike a rabbit.'
âWhat about me?' said Bee.
Lots of nodding. Bee jogged off. Doodle watched her, but didn't follow. Bee stopped by the hedge.
âDoo-dle,' she shouted. He went off like a rocket. Marco shot forwards, lost the lead, fell backwards â splat. Doodle ran over to Bee and was rewarded with something from her pocket.