Borribles Go For Broke, The (7 page)
Read Borribles Go For Broke, The Online
Authors: Michael de Larrabeiti
The two police officers stood by the side of the van for a minute or two until they were joined by a park keeper wearing a brown uniform and a brown hat. After shaking hands the three officials walked away from the road, heading across the common in the direction of the wooden huts. When they got there the keeper took a key from his pocket, undid a padlock on the iron gate and disappeared behind the hedge. The policemen did not have long to wait. Within minutes the keeper returned leading a small horse behind him, a dingy horse with its head hanging at the rein and its feet dragging over the grass. An unhappy horse.
‘Is it Sam?’ asked Sydney. ‘I can’t see from this distance.’
Spiff passed her the telescope. ‘Have a look,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t know your horse from a ham sandwich.’
Sydney raised the instrument to her eye. ‘Oh,’ she gasped, her face bright with joy, ‘it is, it’s Sam. The horse who saved our lives.’
‘He didn’t save my life,’ said Spiff.
Chalotte sneered. ‘Nor would anyone with any sense,’ she said.
‘Knock it on the head,’ said Stonks, ‘something’s happening.’
While the Borribles had been talking the keeper had manhandled a small rubbish cart from one of the huts and was buckling Sam into it. At the same time a side door to the Transit van slid open and two more policemen appeared. Between them they held, by the arms, the small and dispirited figure of Bingo Borrible. His hat was gone, his ears were revealed.
Spiff snatched the telescope from Sydney. ‘He’s still got his ears,’ he said, ‘there’s still a chance.’
‘They’re taking him over to the horse,’ said Chalotte.
The six Borribles crouched behind their hedge and watched. The traffic was thick round the common now and people were striding this way and that towards bus stops and Underground stations. Meanwhile the sun was mounting steeply into the sky, ready to scorch the city for another day.
Bingo was shoved across the common. He did not struggle, neither did he go willingly. His head was down and his feet scuffed over the dry turf. Nearer and nearer to Sam he was dragged, made small and pitiful by the size of the men who escorted him, vulnerable in the middle of that great open space.
‘If only he knew we were here,’ said Chalotte.
But Bingo did not know. He was hauled up to the horse and made to stand in front of it.
‘Don’t do anything, Sam,’ whispered Sydney, ‘don’t do anything.’
It was no good. Sam had been lonely and maltreated when he’d toiled for Dewdrop and Erbie and he’d known no love until the Borribles had freed him. He’d never forgotten the great Adventure and he’d not forgotten the face or scent of any one of the Adventurers. He’d dreamed of them many a sad night over the months
and months since they’d been obliged to abandon him. Now he raised his head and his nostrils flared and quivered. He saw the uniforms and swung his neck away for he did not like uniforms; then he caught the smell of Bingo and swung his head back. He saw the Borrible—he shook his head and stamped his feet hard into the ground. A huge neighing of happiness burst from him and he strained forward, pulling the cart along with him.
and months since they’d been obliged to abandon him. Now he raised his head and his nostrils flared and quivered. He saw the uniforms and swung his neck away for he did not like uniforms; then he caught the smell of Bingo and swung his head back. He saw the Borrible—he shook his head and stamped his feet hard into the ground. A huge neighing of happiness burst from him and he strained forward, pulling the cart along with him.
Bingo tried to step backwards, averting his face, but the two big-boned policemen were holding him and they stood firm in their massive boots. Sam came close to Bingo and licked his face and nudged his shoulder, and though the Battersea Borrible tried desperately not to show the slightest emotion it was obvious that the horse knew him and knew him well. In the end Bingo gave up all pretence and threw his arms round the horse’s neck. Even though this action placed him in great peril he remembered Sam with gratitude and knew that he owed his life to the horse. He knew also that friendship is never more valuable than when expressed in the deepest danger. Besides, he thought, why should the Woollies make him behave in a manner that was unnatural, in a way that was not like him.
‘Sam,’ said Bingo to Sam alone, ‘there are others who will rescue you. Whatever happens we haven’t forgotten our promise.’
From their hiding-place the Adventurers watched as Inspector Sussworth separated Bingo from the horse and they saw too how the police escort seized the captive and frogmarched him away. Sussworth and Hanks shook hands with the park keeper once more and left him. The doors of the Transit van opened and six more policemen came out of the vehicle. They stretched their arms to the sky and smiled.
As soon as Bingo arrived back at the van he was thrown into it and the doors were locked. His white face came to the window immediately and he peered through the grille at Sam who was now obliged to begin his day’s work, pacing round the fringes of the common, stopping and starting on command while the keeper loaded the cart with all the litter he could find.
The policemen now stood in an untidy group, congratulating their chief. Sussworth’s face became contorted with smiles, his
moustache jerked to right and left and his feet stabbed the ground with pleasure. Sergeant Hanks was content too; cradling his magnificent belly in both hands he jiggled it up and down so that he could laugh more easily.
moustache jerked to right and left and his feet stabbed the ground with pleasure. Sergeant Hanks was content too; cradling his magnificent belly in both hands he jiggled it up and down so that he could laugh more easily.
It took some while for the policemen’s mirth to subside but when it had the sergeant pointed across the main road to where a man in a dirty white overall was taking down the shutters from the front of a small transport café. The policemen crossed the road in a bunch and the man in the white overall opened the café door and ushered them in. The SBG were going to celebrate success with eggs and bacon and mugs of tea.
‘Bingo’s alone in the van,’ said Sydney. ‘Can’t we do something now?’
‘It looks bloody dangerous,’ said Chalotte.
Spiff pushed his telescope through the hedge and peered carefully round the common. ‘Of course it’s bloody dangerous,’ he said, ‘and what makes it worse is that I can’t see anything the slightest bit suspicious out there, which probably means the opposite.’
‘We won’t get another chance like this,’ said Stonks. ‘We’ve got to have a go, we’ve got to.’
‘Hang about,’ interrupted Spiff, ‘there’s no need for us all to rush over there. Vulge better stay here because of his limp, Sydney too, and Twilight. Chalotte and Stonks come with me. Now, if we get Bingo out we’ll head into the back streets between here and the river. I’ll open the van on this side, away from the caff, that means you three here will have to watch the park keeper. If he looks up he’ll spot us. If he tries to warn the Woollies you’ll just have to run out there and clobber ’im. If that happens nick the horse and cart and drive like the clappers, away up the common, make as much noise as you can, create a diversion. After that you’ll have to run into the side streets and split up, hide, get into a house, anything.’ Spiff drew a deep breath and looked at the circle of frightened faces around him. ‘I know it’s not much of a plan,’ he added, ‘but it’s all we got.’
‘How are you going to pick the lock?’ asked Stonks.
Spiff smiled. ‘How do you think I did the RSPCA office?’ he said, and he drew a small bundle of stiff wire from one pocket and
a bunch of filed-down car keys from another. ‘I’m a little boy scout,’ he explained, ‘always prepared.’ Spiff smirked then and looked at Twilight from under his eyebrows. ‘You’d better take the telescope, and don’t look down the wrong end. If you see something you don’t like, whistle.’ And Spiff thrust his hands into his pockets and sauntered, tough and truculent, out from the garden and on to the pavement. Stonks went too and Chalotte, after grimacing fearfully at Sydney, did the same.
a bunch of filed-down car keys from another. ‘I’m a little boy scout,’ he explained, ‘always prepared.’ Spiff smirked then and looked at Twilight from under his eyebrows. ‘You’d better take the telescope, and don’t look down the wrong end. If you see something you don’t like, whistle.’ And Spiff thrust his hands into his pockets and sauntered, tough and truculent, out from the garden and on to the pavement. Stonks went too and Chalotte, after grimacing fearfully at Sydney, did the same.
Twilight raised the telescope and studied the keeper for a minute or two. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Next he turned his attention to the café, but the windows were thick with the dirt thrown up by passing juggernauts and the Bangladeshi could see nothing through them. He surveyed the houses opposite, the gardens, the roofs. Everything seemed normal.
Spiff reached the van. Chalotte knelt by its front wheel and watched the café and Stonks stood near the back doors and scanned the common. Spiff, the most casual and courageous burglar in the world, leant on the SBG vehicle and attacked the sliding door with his set of keys. He was a good workman; he didn’t rush and he didn’t panic, not even when Bingo’s face appeared close to his own, separated from it only by half an inch of soundproof security glass. The prisoner moved his mouth but Spiff heard nothing above a murmur. He bent his head and went on with his work, saying, ‘Don’t worry, Bingo, don’t worry, nearly got it.’
‘All quiet on the common,’ said Stonks, his voice tense.
‘All quiet in the caff,’ said Chalotte, ‘but get a move on.’
Two minutes went by, three. Chalotte continued to keep a sharp eye on the café door, willing it to stay shut. She heard Spiff swear but refused to turn her head, then came the sound of the lock clicking, the door slid open. Bingo was free.
She half rose from her crouching position and turned to see Bingo, pale and bedraggled, leap from the van and into Spiff’s arms, shouting, ‘You fools, you damn fools, it’s a trap, the common’s lousy with coppers.’
Chalotte glanced across the road and her mouth dried and her blood congealed into a ball of stone that stuck in her heart. The door of the café had been flung open and the policemen were
spreading along the pavement, pushing pedestrians out of their way, cutting off any Borrible escape into the streets that led to the Thames.
spreading along the pavement, pushing pedestrians out of their way, cutting off any Borrible escape into the streets that led to the Thames.
‘It’s coming down harder, now,’ said Spiff. ‘We’ll have to try and get across the common.’
Back behind the hedge Twilight jumped to his feet, dropping the telescope. ‘The Woollies are coming out of the caff,’ he shouted. ‘Sydney, Vulge, come on. It’s the cart before the horse now.’
Loading their catapults the three of them ran from their hiding place into the open, making as much noise as they could. The keeper saw them coming and turned to face them, squaring his shoulders as if for an attack he had always expected.
Vulge faltered. ‘He knows,’ he said, ‘he knows.’
‘I don’t care how much he knows,’ shouted Twilight, ‘all the knowledge in the world won’t stop a catapult.’ The Bangladeshi knelt and let fly a stone which flew straight at the keeper and struck him cleanly on the elbow, drawing blood.
‘Come on, Sam,’ yelled Sydney. ‘It’s me, Sam, it’s me.’
Sam needed no telling. He was a veteran of the Great Rumble Hunt and he could smell danger just as well as he could smell the scent of his Borrible friends. He neighed like a warhorse, eager for battle, swished his tail and ran in the direction of his beloved Sydney, his lips curling back over his teeth in ferocious glee.
There was no time for greeting, not then, not in the middle of such a hue and cry. Sydney sprang on to the cart and seized the reins; Vulge and Twilight leapt up beside her, catapults ready.
‘I came back for you, Sam,’ cried Sydney breathlessly. ‘I told you I would.’
Spiff and his band ran diagonally across a corner of the common. They ran fast and in a fair race would have soon outdistanced their pursuers, but the trap had been well laid. Sweat ran into Spiff’s eyes.
‘Make for that street over there,’ he panted, ‘we’ll leave ’em behind in no time.’ But even as he spoke a blue Transit van skidded round the corner of the road he had indicated. All its doors burst open and another dozen Woollies jumped into the fray. ‘Hell,’ said
Spiff, ‘we’ve been set up.’ He swerved in his tracks, the others followed and they ran up the side of the green towards the next street. Another blue van appeared and the Borribles were forced to run on.
Spiff, ‘we’ve been set up.’ He swerved in his tracks, the others followed and they ran up the side of the green towards the next street. Another blue van appeared and the Borribles were forced to run on.
‘What about the other side of the common?’ asked Chalotte.
‘Take a look,’ said Stonks. Chalotte saw and heard three vans screech into view. They did not stop at the kerbside either, those vans, but drove and bumped and swayed out on to the yellow grass.
‘Shit,’ said Spiff, ‘they’re really coming for us today.’
‘It was nice to escape,’ said Bingo, ‘even if it was only for a minute.’
Sydney spied her friends and directed the cart towards them.
‘Sam,’ she wailed as the horse ran, ‘this is not how we meant it to be. Now we’re caught for good, now they’ll clip us and we’ll grow up and hell and dammit.’
The policemen began to advance from three sides, both on foot and in their vans, but Sam’s blood came afire with the urge to help his friends and he galloped like he had on Rumbledom. He swerved and slid the cart in front of Spiff and the others and they threw themselves aboard and Sam was away again, heading for the top of the common where the field narrowed to a point and there were no blue vans to be seen.
The seven Borribles, united now, aimed and shot their catapults as rapidly as they could and the policemen on foot fell back under the onslaught of those deadly missiles, but four vans drew alongside the cart and kept pace with the gallant horse.
‘Aim at the windscreens,’ called Spiff, but it was not that easy. The SBG vans had thicker glass than ordinary cars and the stones rebounded harmlessly into the air.
Sam galloped on, sheering this way and that, trying to reach the streets. More vans drove on to the common, fast at first, then they slowed and circled the cart, drawing closer and closer, forcing Sam away from the edge of the field, into the centre.
Sam wheeled again and looked for a way of escape. There was none. The blue vans slithered to a halt on the dry grass, the doors banged open and scores of policemen rushed into the sunlight—
Sussworth’s men, his pride and his joy, in full riot gear. They held shields in front of their bodies and on their heads black helmets reflected only a black sunshine. In front of the men’s faces were see-behind visors, in the men’s hands, long truncheons. The SBG marched towards the cart; the world was theirs and the Borribles were hostages for it.
Sussworth’s men, his pride and his joy, in full riot gear. They held shields in front of their bodies and on their heads black helmets reflected only a black sunshine. In front of the men’s faces were see-behind visors, in the men’s hands, long truncheons. The SBG marched towards the cart; the world was theirs and the Borribles were hostages for it.
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