Medal Mayhem (2 page)

Then Gloria flashed a beaming smile my way. “Of course, we hope Harriet will be entering the triple jump.”

My ears pricked up. The triple jump?

“What’s that?” Susie asked, looking confused. “Is it like the high jump but you have to do it three times?”

“Not exactly,” Gloria said. “There’s a long run-up, followed by a hop, a skip and a long jump. With her speed and jumping ability, Harriet will be brilliant.”

I had to agree – the triple jump sounded like the perfect event for me. Hopping was what bunnies did best and I might even be able to squeeze in some of my trademark bunny backflips to wow the judges.

EE coughed. “There won’t be any risk of Harriet escaping, will there? We all know what she’s like.”

I shook my grey fur indignantly. There might have been one or two unfortunate times when I’d had to escape from a tight spot but it was hardly my fault a nasty magician had tried to steal me away. Anyone would think I’d asked the Great Maldini to bunny-nap me!

Gloria frowned. “She’s always perfectly well-behaved for me, Mr Wilson. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

EE blushed. “Do call me Edward, G-G-Gloria.”

“Dad!” Susie said in an embarrassed whisper. “Don’t go Gloria ga-ga again.”

Luckily, Gloria didn’t seem to notice the adoring look EE was sending her way. “Now, you’ll have three weeks to prepare for the qualifying rounds, where animals that have been selected by the committee will compete to be part of the Great British team. You’ll be up against some stiff competition from across the country, but if you win at the qualifiers, you’ll go to the main event two weeks after that.”

Muttering broke out amongst the owners and I could understand why – three weeks to learn a new whole sport wasn’t long at all. And just how was EE supposed to teach me how to triple jump, anyway? He wasn’t exactly the sporty type.

“To give our Superpets an extra edge, I’ve lined up specialist trainers to show them how to go for gold,” Gloria went on briskly. “Some very famous athletes will be getting in touch with you in the next few days and will bring their own camera crew to film everything for a special,
Team Superpets Animalympics
television show.”

Celebrity sports stars and camera crews – I liked the sound of that! And with my
Superpets
pals beside me, I had a feeling we were going to win big at the Animalympics. My velvet nose twitched in anticipation. This was going to be fun!

It’s no secret in the Wilson house that EE goes a bit funny around Gloria. Mrs Wilson folds her arms and tuts when he gets that soppy look on his face and she even asked Susie to keep an eye on her dad to make sure he didn’t embarrass himself when we were on tour with the cast of
Superpets.
It’s a good thing Gloria is too busy to notice EE’s strange behaviour or life would be a lot worse for me and Susie.

So when we found out the name of my triple jump trainer, I don’t think anyone expected Mrs Wilson to react in quite the way she did.

“C-Calvin C-Cross?” she stammered, her eyes opening wide. “The same Calvin Cross who won all those gold medals and stars in
Stunt It!
on Sunday nights?
That
Calvin Cross?”

EE frowned. “He didn’t mention how many medals he had, or any TV show, but I don’t suppose there are two triple-jumpers with same name.”

Mrs Wilson fanned her rosy cheeks and smiled in a dreamy way.

Susie peered at her mum. “Are you OK? Only you look a bit like Dad does when he talks about Gloria.”

“I’m fine, Susie,” Mrs Wilson said, smoothing down her hair. “I expect Calvin is keen to meet Harriet. When is he coming around?”

EE studied her suspiciously. “Tomorrow evening, with the film crew. Why?”

“No reason,” trilled Mrs Wilson, making a beeline for the kitchen. “Will you excuse me? I’ve just remembered I need to phone the hairdresser.”

No one spoke as she rushed away. Then Lily took her thumb out of her mouth. “Mummy’s gone Calvin crazy,” she said.

EE folded his arms and shook his head. “Do you know, Lily, I think you might be right. I do hope she doesn’t make a fool of herself.”

He was a fine one to talk – there was a signed picture of Gloria next to his bed! But for Susie’s sake, I hoped Lily was wrong – between a ga-ga dad and a crazy mum, things could get embarrassing with a capital E!

The next evening I was sitting on the sofa with Susie when the front doorbell rang. EE put down the newspaper he was reading and stood up to answer it but Mrs Wilson beat him to it.

“I’ll get it!” she called as she thundered down the stairs, Lily’s bedtime story in her hand. “No need for you to bother!”

When she reached the doormat, she paused and touched up her lipstick in the mirror. Then she put on a brilliant smile and pulled open the door.

“Hello,” she gushed, in an unusually posh voice. “Mai name is Mrs Wilson.”

She beamed at the visitor and it was a moment before she realised that instead of Calvin Cross standing on the doorstep, it was our next-door neighbour, George.

“Hullo, Mrs Wilson,” he said. “Can Susie come out to play?”

“I’m afraid not,” Mrs Wilson sighed, peering up and down the street. “We’re expecting an extremely important guest to arrive at any minute. Maybe Susie can pop round tomorrow?”

Looking disappointed, George stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned away. “OK.”

After another expectant glance along the road, Mrs Wilson closed the door and went back upstairs to finish telling Lily her story and I went back to my snack.

A few minutes later the doorbell rang again. Once more, EE put down his paper and, once more, Mrs Wilson hurtled down the stairs before he could reach the door.

“Don’t trouble yourself,” she told him, panting slightly as she patted down her dress. “I’ll answer it.”

Yanking the door open, she plastered another bright smile to her face. “Hello, mai name is . . .”

Her voice trailed off as she realised it wasn’t Calvin Cross.

“Mrs Wilson. I know. I’ve been delivering here for six years,” the milkman said, handing her a bill and looking her up and down. “You look different this evening. Going somewhere nice?”

Muttering under her breath, Mrs Wilson grabbed her purse and pulled some money out. “Just a quiet night in,” she said, gritting her teeth. “Or it would be if people would stop disturbing me.”

The milkman gave her some change and nodded. “Right. Is now a good time to tell you about our new organic range?”

Mrs Wilson tapped her foot impatiently. “Not really. We’re expecting company, you see . . .”

Smiling, the milkman stepped forward. “It won’t take long.”

“Some other time,” Mrs Wilson said in a firm tone and, before you could say ‘semi-skimmed’, she had shut the door.

Just as she reached the top of the stairs, the doorbell chimed again. This time, EE didn’t even bother to lower his newspaper. “I expect you’ll get that, will you?”

Sure enough, Mrs Wilson wheeled about and dashed back downstairs. By now, her hair was looking a bit untidy and her lipstick had smeared.

“I bet it’s the blasted milkman again,” she said, pursing her lips and pulling the door back. “I told you, I’m not interested in your organic milk.”

The tall, blond-haired man waiting there looked puzzled. “Er, that’s good because I don’t have any.”