Olive of Groves and the Great Slurp of Time (6 page)

8

In which we learn the importance of speed reading

‘I found it! I found it!' Mrs Groves bumbled into the entrance hall, waving a hot buttered crumpet in the air. She stopped, gave a surprised little yelp, stuffed the crumpet into her apron pocket and dashed back into the office.

‘I found it! I found it!' She re-emerged, waving a tiny black leather-bound book in the air. Trotting across the entrance hall, she sat down on the antique sofa, right on top of the dinosaur.

‘My word!' Mrs Groves blinked and wriggled her bottom from side to side. ‘These old sofas can be awfully lumpy. Goodness knows what they used for stuffing!' She smoothed her apron. ‘Never mind! Back to the matter in hand! I have found one of the textbooks I was telling you about.'

Mrs Groves patted the sofa, and Olive and Basil sat by her side. Olive took the little volume, blew the dust off the cover and read the title out loud: ‘
The Concise Guide to Time Travel.
' A tingle of excitement passed through her body.

A tingle of excitement passed through Pigg McKenzie's body too. He was hanging over the bannister of the first-floor landing, eavesdropping once more.

Olive and Basil thumbed through the chapters: ‘Discovering your gift', ‘Explaining the mysteries of time travel to your mother without freaking her out' and ‘Tools of the trade'.

‘Done it . . . tried it . . . have them,' said Basil.

And then they arrived at a short little chapter, in jolly red print, with a fascinating title.

‘Beware the Time Slurp,' Basil read out loud.

‘Beware?' gasped Mrs Groves, her hand flying to her throat. ‘Does it
really
say “beware”?'

Basil nodded.

The silly woman threw her hands in the air and yelped with fear. She dropped to the floor and commando-crawled across the rug, out the front door, between the postman's legs, down the steps and into the garden, where she hid behind a large shrub. There, she soothed her troubled nerves by knitting, using the yellow wool she found in her apron pocket and a pair of twigs she found in the dirt. She also used a worm, but that was an accident. The poor thing just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and ended up knitted into the waistband.

Basil stared at Olive.

Olive shrugged. ‘Mrs Groves
does
have a point,' she said. ‘People don't say “beware” unless something truly dreadful is going to happen . . .
Beware.
A ferocious wolf lurks in the forest . . .
Beware.
That avalanche will crush your entire village to a pulp . . .
Beware
. An orange is about to hit you in the head.'

An orange hit Basil in the head.

‘Ouch!'

‘Sorry!' called Ivan from the dining room door.

‘We'd better read on,' whispered Olive.

They leaned in a little closer to each other. The pig leaned a little further over the bannister. He even dribbled, but it landed on Olive's shoulder, unnoticed.

‘Beware the Time Slurp,' Basil read out loud. ‘A Time Slurp is created when a foolish time traveller brings people or animals back to his home from another point in history.'

‘
Foolish?
' Olive cast a sideways glance at the baby dinosaur, still nestled in the upholstery. ‘Why foolish?'

Basil continued, his face growing a deeper shade of red with every sentence. ‘When a creature is brought forth from the past, it creates a
current through time
. Other beings from other times may be sucked up in this current and drawn forth to join it. We call this
being caught in the Time Slurp
.'

‘Hmmm.' Olive tugged at her ear. ‘So the Time Slurp is just like water going down the plughole in the bath. It sucks everything else down with it – bits of dirt, flakes of soap, blueberries.'

‘Precisely!' cried Basil. Although he did wonder what the blueberries were doing in the bath.

He read on. ‘The results of a
mild
Time Slurp are fascinating and generally harmless. Creatures are sucked through time for a moment or two, then slip back to their own place in history once more.'

‘Sounds manageable,' mused Olive. ‘Here for a moment, then –
puff
– gone.'

‘No harm done,' said Basil.

‘No harm done,' agreed Olive.

‘But there's more.' Clearing his throat and reading on, Basil tried ever so hard to capture the essence of the red print in his voice. ‘The Time Slurp, however, will grow stronger for every extra creature that is brought forward
from its rightful place in time. Should the Time Slurp grow too strong, it will reach the CRITICAL LIMIT and SLIP INTO REVERSE. Should this happen, the time traveller and all within his realm must
BEWARE!
'

‘
BEWARE!
' gasped Olive in bold red uppercase letters. ‘There's that word again! It must be serious. Oh, do read on.'

Basil gulped. ‘
BEWARE!
Once the Time Slurp slips into reverse –'

‘Num-num-num-num-num-num-num!' The baby dinosaur leapt out of the upholstery and seized
The Concise Guide to Time Travel.
Basil tried to retrieve it, but the dinosaur's whip-like tail caught him on the side of the head, knocking him back onto the sofa. Ripping the cover off, she shoved all of the pages into her mouth at once, then chomped, gobbled and gulped until the book was completely gone. ‘Num-num-num-num-num-num-num!'

‘Oh no!' cried Olive. ‘What have you done?!'

The dinosaur screwed up her nose, coughed and spluttered. ‘Ghak! Ghak! Pfft!'

A small damp shred of paper shot from her mouth and landed on Olive's knee, its bold red uppercase letters glaring and sinister:
BEWARE!

‘Good grief,' said Olive.

‘Num-num-num-num-num-num-num!' The dinosaur dropped onto the floor and gobbled Olive's sock right down to where it disappeared into her shoe.

‘Beware . . .' muttered Basil. ‘Once the Time Slurp slips into reverse . . .
what
?' He stood up, snapped his braces, shook his head and wandered out of the hall, trying to recall something that he had once read . . .

Something important . . .

Or maybe not . . .

If only he could remember . . .

9

In which we see that the study of plants is every bit as entertaining as the study of bottoms

‘Num-num-num-num-num-num-num!'

Olive entered the science laboratory an hour later, with the dinosaur gnawing on her elbow. Pigg McKenzie was seated at the front of the room. A large notebook, a ruler, five pens and a pencil sat on the table in front of him. His front trotters were folded primly in his lap. Basil sat to his right, but the rest of the chairs at his table were empty. The pig's goody two-shoes act fooled no-one . . . except poor, silly Mrs Groves . . . and Basil, of course, who was too new to realise that one should Avoid the Pig at All Costs.

Pigg McKenzie smirked at Olive and patted the chair to his left.

‘Urgh,' she moaned and walked to the back of the room, as far from the pig as possible. She sat beside Frank, plonked the dinosaur on the table and yanked her elbow free.

The prehistoric babe howled, dived past Olive and wrapped her jaws around Frank's arm. ‘Num-num-num-num-num-num-num!'

‘Oh, Olive!' cried Mrs Groves, smiling and fluttering her eyelashes. ‘You seem to have a new pupil with you.
Three
newcomers in one day, how
terribly
exciting. A time traveller, a pig of great charm and a . . . a . . . a talking animal, I presume?'

‘Num-num-num-num-num-num-num!'

Frank's eyes watered with pain.

‘Num-Num!' cooed Mrs Groves. ‘What a charming name! Unusual but charming.'

‘Num-num-num-num-num-num-num!'

‘Welcome to Groves,' sang the headmistress. ‘I hope you will be very happy here, Num-Num.'

Olive shrugged. It was as good a name as any!

Frank pulled his arm free and frowned.

‘She's a baby dinosaur,' Olive explained to him. ‘It's a long story . . . unbelievable but true.'

‘I prefer stories that are
believable
but
untrue
,' said Frank, who was a compulsive liar. His eyes twinkled and
he added, ‘You
do
know that baby dinosaurs
double
in size every twenty-four hours for the first three weeks of life?'

Olive cast a nervous glance at Num-Num, who had just eaten an entire pencil case and its contents – thirty-six coloured pencils, eight jumbo crayons and a strawberry-scented eraser. The end of the zipper dangled stupidly out the side of her mouth. Was Frank lying . . . or did Num-Num already look bigger than when she first hatched?

‘Today,' announced Mrs Groves, ‘we are going to investigate a branch of science called botany.'

‘Hee, hee! Bottomy!' giggled Blimp. ‘Mrs Groves said a rude word!'

‘Not bottomy!
Botany!
' groaned Wordsworth. ‘The study of plants.'

‘Oh,' sighed Blimp, his whiskers drooping with disappointment.

Today's lesson was
botany
, and while it was not quite as entertaining as discussing bottoms, Mrs Groves had filled the science laboratory with a spectacular range of plants in order to make the lesson as exciting as possible. There were moist mosses and rampant vines trailing across the display shelves. The floor was covered in large potted specimens of hibiscuses, rhododendrons, ferns, cacti and one large and vigilant Venus flytrap. A variety of water lilies floated in
the sink at the front of the laboratory, and the tables were peppered with beakers and flat-bottomed flasks holding exotic orchids, delicate grasses and sprigs of herbs.

All spare gaps on the tables and floor were covered in a thin layer of butter . . . but that had nothing to do with botany and everything to do with Reginald's passion for spreading butter over all available surfaces, large and small. The seven-year-old smiled up at Olive as he buttered the toe of her shoe.

‘Can anyone identify a plant?' Mrs Groves nodded encouragingly at her pupils.

Pigg McKenzie raised his trotter. ‘I can see a flower,' he grunted. ‘A
red
flower . . . a
big
red flower.'

‘Marvellous! Wonderful!' cooed Mrs Groves. ‘Such an intelligent pig! Where did you say you attended school before coming to Groves, dear?'

Pigg McKenzie stretched and drawled, ‘Oh, just an ordinary little place. You might have heard of Mrs Doncaster's Boarding School for Astronauts, Opera Singers and Pigs of Extreme Genius.'

Anastasia and Alfonzo rolled their eyes. Valerie the owl fluffed her feathers in disgust. Peter the graffiti artist wrote
PORKY LIAR! PANTS ON FIRE!
across his table in thick black permanent marker.

‘A school for pigs of extreme genius!' gushed Mrs Groves. ‘My word, that's impressive.'

‘Yes,' sighed the pig, ‘but I was too smart to stay. Mrs Doncaster said there was simply nothing more that the school could teach me. I had outgrown and outwitted them all.' He opened his notebook and started to write, as though eager to continue with his studies.

‘Such an inspiration to us, each and every one!' declared the silly headmistress.

‘Good grief,' moaned Olive.

Anxious to show her own brilliance, Elizabeth-Jane the giraffe called out, ‘I can see
five
different varieties of orchid.'

‘How
dreadfully
clever of you!' cried Mrs Groves. ‘Tiny Tim, would you please bring me those orchids from your table? They are the ones in the flat-bottomed flasks.'

Tiny Tim fell to the floor, where he rolled around, giggling hysterically. ‘Flat-bottomed flasks!' he gasped. ‘Flasks with flat
bottoms
!'

‘Bottomy!' shrieked Blimp, and he rolled around on top of Tiny Tim, laughing until tears ran from his eyes.

Tommy, who still had Steve and George the hermit crabs stuck up his nose, cried, ‘Never mind, Mrs Groves!
I'll
bring you the flowers!' But on lifting an orchid in each
hand, his eyes began to water, his throat began to tickle and his nose began to itch.

‘Uh-oh,' he huffed.

‘I think . . .' he sniffled.

‘I am allergic to . . . A-A-A-ACHOO!!'

George and Steve blasted out of Tommy's nostrils, flew across the laboratory and landed on top of a cushiony pile of moss. They scuttled around, naked and exposed, until they found a eucalyptus display and each crawled into a gumnut. Unfortunately, the gumnuts were a little too large. The crabs wobbled clumsily back and forth under the burden of their new homes until they fell off the shelf and down the back of Boffo's clown suit.

‘Emergency! Emergency!' cried Boffo, tumbling off his seat. ‘The crabs are biting my bottom!'

‘Emergency! Emergency!' Bozo laughed. ‘Boffo's beautiful bottom is being badly bitten by bothersome beasties!'

Boffo ran around the science laboratory, dashing in and out of rhododendrons, tearing off his clothes, sobbing, ‘Get them off! Get them off!'

George and Steve were flung across the room, where they hit Anastasia in the head and became entangled in her long blonde hair. Anastasia leapt to her feet, screeching, slapping at her head, hopping from foot to foot, until she fell backwards onto a cactus.

‘Uh-oh,' said Eduardo. ‘Anastasia has landed on a cactus.'

‘It's a prickly pear,' corrected Valerie the owl.

‘A prickly pair of buttocks!' Alfonzo laughed.

Anastasia burst into tears.

George and Steve disentangled themselves, crawled out of their oversized gumnuts and took up residence in Anastasia's ears.

Meanwhile, Helga the hippo, who absolutely
adored
water, had decided to use the break in the lesson to take a little bath with the water lilies. She had just managed to squeeze her tail and a quarter of her bottom into the sink when the whole bench collapsed under her weight. Helga, the sink and the water lilies skidded across the floor, their journey smooth and rapid thanks to Reginald's layer of butter. They skated out the door and down the grand staircase, where they collided with the Inspector of Schools, who had just arrived for a surprise visit.

And a surprise it was.

Especially for him!

Scruffy the dog chased after Helga and the sink, grinning, barking and licking up smears of butter along the way. This was the most exciting science lesson since Carlos had blown up the anatomy display. On that occasion, Scruffy had managed to eat three kidneys, a large intestine and the left hemisphere of a monkey's brain before anyone noticed.

Cracker, the Purple Peruvian Parrot,
tried
to fly after Scruffy. He loved teasing and taunting the little mutt. However, keeping a straight course was difficult since his tail feathers had been sliced off in Jabber's juggling mishap that morning. Lurching up and down, squawking and swearing, flapping and flopping, he plummeted right into the open jaws of the Venus flytrap.

Mrs Groves' hand flew to her chest. Her eyelashes fluttered and her cheeks glowed a rosy red. She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a large gold fob watch, which she held before her face. ‘Goodness gracious me!' she cried. ‘Is that the time? I really must be going!'

She jumped over a potted hydrangea, dived beneath a table and slid out into the corridor on her tummy. She sprang to her feet, hitched her skirt up around her knees, sprinted down the grand staircase, hurdled over the unconscious body of the Inspector of Schools, dashed into her office and hid behind the heavy velvet curtains.

‘Aawk! Get me out of here!' squawked Cracker from inside the Venus flytrap. Actually, he said something extremely rude, but his intended meaning was the same.

Diana the lion tamer leapt to her feet. ‘Never fear! Diana is here!' She cracked her whip, stomped her boots and did aggressive and astonishing things with a chair. It was a magnificent performance that would have done any lion tamer proud. Unfortunately, it did not impress the Venus flytrap, who held on fast to her supper.

Indeed, Cracker might have met an unpleasant end had it not been for Num-Num.

The dinosaur had followed the flight of the parrot with fascination. The sight of fresh meat clad in such pretty purple wrapping had set her tummy rumbling, her mouth dribbling and drooling. But suddenly, she had been robbed. That creature, the ugly plant-like thing, had eaten her dinner right before her eyes!

Num-Num howled in despair, leapt off Olive's lap and scrambled across the tabletops. Test tubes, beakers and flat-bottomed flasks scattered and smashed. Rare plant specimens were squashed and bruised. Water dripped to the floor.

Num-Num bounced onto Diana's head, soared through the air and took the Venus flytrap by the throat.
‘Num-num-num-num-num-num-num!' She growled and shook the stem. ‘Num-num-num-num-num-num-num!'

The Venus flytrap snapped open and Cracker plopped onto the floor.

Num-Num released the plant and was just about to pounce on the parrot when Boffo, still running up and down the aisles in his underwear, zipped by and caught Cracker on the toe of his oversized clown shoe. Cracker flew across the laboratory and out the door without having to flap his wings once.

‘Poopsicle!' he squawked.

Num-Num shrieked with fury and gave chase.

Boffo, Bozo, Basil and three-quarters of the students followed after them, howling, screeching, yelling, laughing and cheering. The Venus flytrap climbed out of the pot, shook the soil off her roots and gave chase too.

Pigg McKenzie tore a page from his notebook and blew his snout. He stretched, sauntered towards the door and stopped. He turned towards Olive, his small, piggy eyes homing in on her school-captain badge. He leered and left the room.

Olive rested her chin on her hand and sighed. ‘Good grief.'