Wild Moose Chase (14 page)

The Moose Ranger

Cam and Bert continued to run towards the Queen but were rugby-tackled to the ground by the pursuing soldiers. From a crumpled heap, the twins watched as Monsieur Grand-Fromage leapt from his seat and knocked the wedge of moose cheese from the Queen's raised hand. The Queen shrieked (in a calm and regal way) as two of her bodyguards seized Monsieur Grand-Fromage. They in turn were seized by two of his bodyguards. Some of the guests started screaming. Mr Zola turned on his heels and began to walk away from the chaos.

“
Arret!
” shouted Monsieur Grand-Fromage. “
Ce fromage d'orignaux est toxique!
”

“I beg your pardon?” said the Queen.

“Those children are telling the truth,” cried Monsieur Grand-Fromage. “This moose cheese is poisonous. I am a cheese connoisseur and I can smell the toxic rennet from here.”

Two burly soldiers lifted the twins to their feet as Monsieur Grand-Fromage's bodyguards stepped away from the Queen's.

“Where is Mr Zola?” asked the Queen.

Mr Zola stopped mid-step. Monty was twitching nervously.

“Are these the children from Cheddar Gorge that you were telling me about?” she asked. “I thought you said they had disappeared and you couldn't find them.”

“It's true, ma'am,” said Mr Zola. “I now believe that they were in fact trying to poison you.”

The Queen examined the stunned children and then turned to Mr Zola.

“If they were trying to poison me, Mr Zola,” she said, “why would they then battle their way through my soldiers to inform me that the cheese was toxic?”

Mr Zola was silent and Monty began to droop. Gramps stepped up behind him and pulled the red pot of rennet with the skull and crossbones out of Mr Zola's pocket.

“Rennet from the third stomach of a Mongolian yak,” said Gramps, holding it high for all to see. “Deadly – and added to the moose cheese by this man!”

There were gasps of shock and horror from the crowd as two soldiers grabbed Mr Zola. He pulled against them.

“I admit it's true!” he cried. “But the Queen was responsible for the death of my father. He died by moose and so shall she.”

“Well, that's hardly likely any more, is it, Mr Zola?” said the Queen, calmly. “Thanks to these two children and Monsieur Grand-Fromage's prodigious nose for cheese.”

She smiled and nodded to the twins and Monsieur Grand-Fromage before turning back to Mr Zola.

“I remember your father well,” she said. “He was a good man, and he would shudder to think you had turned to a life of crime.”

“I am avenging his death!” shouted Mr Zola. “You forced him to make you moose cheese.”

“I did nothing of the sort,” retorted the Queen. “It was your father's lifelong dream to produce a moose cheese. It was his choice to attempt such a feat.”

Mr Zola scowled. “You don't know how I've suffered,” he muttered, madly. “I have been churned up like a milky mozzarella and it's your fault! I've fallen from the towers of St Basil's Cathedral, been threatened with arrest and nibbled by a crazed moose. I was whipped up by a whirlwind, plunged from a dam and rocketed through the sky in a deflating bouncy castle and … and…”

“Did I make you go on the Great Moose Cheese Chase, Mr Zola?” interrupted the Queen.

He looked at the ground and began to shuffle his feet.

“I seem to remember you volunteering,” she continued. “In fact, I seem to remember you wholeheartedly supporting this competition.”

Mr Zola continued to look at the floor, mumbling incoherently.

“You haven't answered my question, Mr Zola,” said the Queen. “Did I force you to get involved in the moose cheese quest?”

“Erm … not exactly…”

“And I didn't ask your father to either,” she said. “But he insisted on doing it. He was a brave man
and
a loyal member of staff, I might add.”

Mr Zola continued shuffling. He wouldn't look at the Queen.

“Do you wish to apologize?” she asked.

“I think Monty does …” he murmured “… but I don't want to.”

“Good, because it's too late for sorry. I hereby banish you to Siberia, where you will remain for the next five years, or until you have resolved your moose issues. I will speak with the Russian authorities and arrange a position for you as Moose Ranger.”

“Moose Ranger?” shrieked Mr Zola. “B-but, Your Majesty, I can't do that. I'm moose-phobic. I had a terrible experience on the Trans-Siberian Railway.”

“Well, it will allow you to face your fears, then,” she said, “which is always a good thing. Now, take him away!”

The soldiers dragged Mr Zola into a waiting army van.

“What about Monty?” he cried, as they stuffed him into the back of the truck. “He had nothing to do with this. He's innocent! Don't punish him for my mistakes…”

The twins could still hear Mr Zola shouting as the heavy truck doors slammed shut.

“I almost feel sorry for him,” whispered Cam as the van drove off.

“Well, don't,” said Gramps. “We could have all died because of him.”

“Besides,” added Bert, “he'll be fine in Siberia. Remember how much that moose on the train liked him. I think he could become a moose whisperer.”

They watched as the army van drove off into the distance. The excited chattering from the guests died down as the Queen got to her feet and prepared to address the crowd.

 

The Queen's Speech

“Monsieur Grand-Fromage,” said the Queen. “You have saved my life and so shall be awarded the Cheese Cross in honour of your sensitive nose and quick reactions.”

Monsieur Grand-Fromage smiled and kissed the Queen's hand. “The honour is all mine,
Votre Majeste
,” he said.

The Queen turned a regal shade of pink, then beckoned to Cam and Bert.

“Come forward,” she commanded.

The twins stood in front of her.

“You fought against my very own soldiers to try and warn me of Mr Zola's treachery,” she said. “And for this I award you…”

Bert held his breath. Was he going to become Lord Curd after all?

The Queen reached for a large bowl full of pastries. “I award you a cheese straw – one each.”

Bert's face fell as she handed him a long thin pastry.

“I would also like to offer my patronage to your dairy farm,” continued the Queen. “All your produce will now be ‘by appointment to Her Majesty the Queen'.”

She smiled and shook their hands, ending with a little push to show she had finished talking to them.

“What does that mean?” whispered Bert, slowly backing away.

“It means she'll buy her cheese from our farm,” said Cam. “And because she will, so will lots of other people, because the Queen only buys the best. Look at Gramps' face.”

The twins glanced over at a beaming Gramps. His white whiskers were standing on end in excitement.

“That look is enough reward for me,” whispered Cam.

“Me too,” laughed Bert. “And with a royal stamp of approval, Whey Farm will be here for at least another four hundred years.”

“Finally,” continued the Queen, motioning for Primula Mold to step up, “the only contestant to actually produce a proper moose cheese.”

Primula Mold stepped forward with Fungus at her heels.

“What a strange-looking corgi,” said the Queen. “What's wrong with his ears?”

“He's a basset hound, ma'am,” said Primula Mold, setting her moose cheese down on the table. “I have made a special moose cheese in honour of Your Majesty – I've added a blue vein.”

The Queen raised her eyebrows as Monsieur Grand-Fromage inspected the cheese.

“I'm afraid that I asked for a traditional moose cheese,” said the Queen. “Adding a blue vein is against the rules. So unfortunately, I cannot bestow a title or the prize money on you.”

The smile on Primula Mold's face froze and Fungus began to howl.

“However,” she continued, “I do like the odd bit of blue, especially Stilton, and Monsieur Grand-Fromage is very impressed.”

He was already slicing into the cheese and smelling it with great gusto.

“I also appreciate the sentiment and the hard work that went into making it,” she went on. “So, I'd be happy to offer your dairy my patronage too. I understand that both farms are close in proximity. It would be nice to see you working together. Maybe you could produce something even more precious than moose cheese. What do you say?”

Primula frowned as Fungus left her side and sat next to Gramps. He rested his head on Gramps' lap and looked up at his mistress with his enormous brown eyes.

“Don't you look at me like that, Fungus,” she said. “You know I can't say no when you look at me like that. The problem is, I still need to extend my farm.”

“You will,” replied Gramps, rubbing the dog's head, “and so will I. Maybe it's time to join dairies and become that ‘cheese force to be reckoned with' that we talked about all those years ago.”

The frown between Primula's eyes slowly unfolded and her large eyes began to twinkle, lighting up her face.

“Maybe it is,” she smiled. “That's if you can overcome your fear of mould spores.”

“If mouldy cheese is good enough for the Queen, then it's good enough for me,” said Gramps, grinning broadly. “How about … a Royal Blue Cheddar?”

“Fabulous!” cried the Queen. “Now, pull up a chair and let the banquet begin.”

 

Dozens of serving staff jumped into action. Two cushioned chairs were produced for the twins and they sat opposite Monsieur Grand-Fromage. The mouldy moose cheese was sliced up and handed round to all the guests. The Queen took the first bite and nodded enthusiastically.

“It's marvellously moosey,” she announced. “Creamy but light, smooth, with a subtle crunch.”

“That's the rock salt, ma'am,” said Primula Mold. “I had to abseil down the deepest mine shaft to get that crystal.”

“How I love to abseil,” said the Queen. “Tell me, have you ever tried descending face down? Apparently one gets a splendid adrenalin rush…”

Monsieur Grand-Fromage leant over and offered the twins the last slice of moose cheese. The glow it emitted lit up their excited faces.

“You will have to share, I'm afraid,” he said.

“
Merci
,” said Cam, shyly.

“
Bon appetit
,” he replied, before turning his attention back to the Queen.

“Are you ready for this?” asked Cam, holding up the slice.

“Yes!” cried Bert. “Mould or no mould – it's still moose cheese. I want to be healthy and wealthy.”

But before Cam could break it in two, Fungus leapt up, grabbed it from her hand and dashed out of the marquee.

“Fungus, come back,” called Miss Mold.

“We'll get him,” said Bert.

The twins left their seats and ran down the hill after the lolloping dog. Bert caught hold of his collar just as he swallowed the last piece of cheese.

“Fungus! You greedy pooch!” cried Bert. “Now we're never going to find out what moose cheese tastes like.”

Cam couldn't help giggling. “What a wild moose chase!” she laughed.

“We need to make another one!” said Bert. “But not just moose cheese. With your brains and my skill, we could make all kinds of exotic cheeses. Start a new business –
The Incredible Curd Twins' Incredible Cheese Things
–
Elephant cheese, gerbil cheese, duck-billed platypus cheese!”

“Blue dog cheese?” asked Cam, patting Fungus.

Bert pulled a face and started laughing too. “Maybe not,” he said. “But who knows! Anything is possible if you're an incredible Curd twin.”

He put his arm around his sister, and together they walked back up the hill to have tea with the Queen.