Nanny Piggins and the Runaway Lion (9 page)

Nanny Piggins, Boris and the children got back in the Rolls Royce and continued searching.

'Where to next?' asked Michael.

'The butcher's shop, I think,' said Nanny Piggins.

'In case Ethel's hungry?' asked Samantha.

'No, in case she's looking for a job,' explained Nanny Piggins. 'Who's better at tearing up raw meat than a lion?'

When they got to the butcher's shop they found the butcher curled up in the corner, rocking back and forth.

'He looks very frightened,' said Derrick.

'Perhaps he's just read an article about the rise of vegetarianism,' suggested Nanny Piggins.

'Or perhaps he's just seen Ethel,' suggested Michael more realistically.

'He's right!' called Boris. 'Ethel has been here! Look, she left her résumé on the counter.'

Nanny Piggins read it. 'Let's see: A gap year working as an au pair in France; two years working as a stockbroker on Wall St; and eight and a half years being tamed at the circus. That's Ethel all right!'

'Sh-sh-she just c-came in here,' stuttered the butcher. (He had been coaxed out of his catatonic state by Samantha offering him a bite of her chocolate bar.) 'She a-a-asked about a job, left a résumé and then bought half a side of b-beef, because she said she was p-p-peckish.'

'How did she pay for it?' asked Michael.

'C-c-cash,' jittered the butcher.

'But how can a lion have money?' asked Derrick.

'She gets a wage at the circus,' said Nanny Piggins.

'I thought the Ringmaster didn't like paying people,' said Samantha.

'He always pays the lions. He might be an idiot but he's not entirely stupid,' explained Nanny Piggins. 'Plus Ethel has always been very good at following the stock market. She has quite the investment portfolio.'

'How can a lion have an investment portfolio? Apart from being a lion, she lives in a travelling circus,' said Samantha.

'Just because you're on the road doesn't mean you can't read the financial papers,' said Nanny Piggins.

'But
you're
not rich,' said Derrick.

'True,' agreed Nanny Piggins. 'My chocolate habit is a tremendous financial burden. But in life, some things are worth the sacrifice.'

The children nodded. This was a statement whose wisdom they could fully understand.

'So where should we look for Ethel next?' asked Boris.

'I'm not sure,' said Nanny Piggins. 'Perhaps we should just walk around a bit. Maybe we'll bump into her.'

The thought of 'bumping into' a lion only made Samantha want to stay in the car. But by prying her fingers off the door one at a time and promising she could climb up on Boris' head at the first glimpse of a giant cat, the five of them were eventually able to set out into the shopping precinct on their lion hunt.

They met with almost immediate success when they heard screaming up ahead.

'What could that be?' asked Boris.

'Perhaps a crowd of people are horrified by the greengrocer's prices,' suggested Nanny Piggins. This was an issue she felt strongly about. She was always astounded the greengrocer had the audacity to charge anything for brussels sprouts.

'Or perhaps they're frightened because they saw a lion?' suggested Derrick.

'Ah yes, of course. I keep forgetting the silly irrational reactions you humans have to large meat-eating creatures,' said Nanny Piggins.

'I wish I could,' said Boris, dabbing a tear from the corner of his eye. It still hurt his feelings every time an old lady screamed and ran away when he offered to help her across the road. Perhaps in future, he would try walking with them across the road, instead of throwing them. It was being picked up and swung about his head that seemed to alarm them.

Nanny Piggins gave her brother's hand a quick comforting squeeze and then they set off following the sound of screaming, which soon led them to the local cinema. Nanny Piggins looked up at the marquee to see what was playing.

'Ahh,
Out of Africa
. No wonder she came here,' said Nanny Piggins. 'Her uncle has a cameo in this film. Sadly, he never got much more movie work because he was forever typecast as a lion. Anyway, let's go in.'

Nanny Piggins, Boris and the children wandered through the now deserted lobby. They would have paid for tickets but they could not, because the ticket collector was hiding under the popcorn stand, refusing to come out.

It was hard to see anything in the darkened cinema. Samantha clutched Boris' hand tightly, wishing she was ten foot tall and 700 kilograms too so she would not have to be so scared. At first it looked like there was no-one in the audience at all. But then they heard the distinctive sound of popcorn being munched. They turned and peered into the darkness. At the very back of the theatre they could just make out the shadowy shape of a lion.

'Hello?' called Nanny Piggins.

'Shhhh,' growled Ethel. 'I'm trying to watch the movie.'

'Ethel, it's Sarah Piggins,' called Nanny Piggins.

'Sarah?!' exclaimed Ethel. 'And Boris too! How wonderful to see you. You're just in time, the film has only just started.'

'We can't watch a movie now,' said Nanny Piggins. 'The Lion Tamer is at our house and he wants you to come back to the circus.'

'Hah!' said Ethel (all circus performers have an excellent sense of the dramatic). 'I'll bet he does. Well I'm not coming back. He's a big meanie and I've had enough of it. So there.' With that Ethel stuffed another handful of popcorn in her mouth, and glared at the movie screen, ignoring Nanny Piggins.

'Children, I think you and Boris had better wait outside,' said Nanny Piggins.

Samantha could not have been more grateful for this suggestion. She practically ran out the exit, screaming.

'It's time for Ethel and I to have a serious pig-to-lion conversation,' said Nanny Piggins.

So Boris and the children waited outside, where they had a lovely time playing hopscotch on the sticky carpet (which all cinemas seem to have), and eating candy from the candy bar (which the staff were too frightened to make them pay for). When Nanny Piggins and Ethel finally emerged, Ethel still looked a little sulky but Nanny Piggins held her firmly by the hand.

'Come along, children. We're going home,' said Nanny Piggins.

'Is Ethel going back to the circus?' asked Derrick.

'We'll see,' said Nanny Piggins cryptically.

Amazingly enough, somewhere on the return journey, Samantha completely overcame her fear of being eaten by a lion. Just as people with a fear of flying can conquer their phobia by learning to be a pilot, it turns out you can overcome a fear of lions simply by being squished in the back seat of a Rolls Royce between a huge bear and a fully grown lioness.

The Lion Tamer was overwhelmed as soon as he saw Ethel. He did not bark like a seal but his neck did go pink and his chin quivered, which, for him, was a sign of great emotion.

'Oh, Ethel, you naughty girl. I am pleased you have agreed to return,' said the Lion Tamer.

'Ethel is returning,' said Nanny Piggins, 'but only if you agree to certain conditions.'

'Conditions? What are these
conditions
of which you speak?' asked the Lion Tamer.

'If he has to ask I'm not telling him,' said Ethel sulkily.

'It seems Ethel is not the only one who has been naughty,' said Nanny Piggins, fixing the Lion Tamer with her most piercing glare.

'What do you mean?' blustered the Lion Tamer. He might be a brave lion tamer but, like most people, he was still afraid of Nanny Piggins.

'Ethel tells me that you have been ordering her about – telling her to jump through flaming hoops and open her mouth so you can put your head in it,' said Nanny Piggins.

'I'm a lion tamer. That is what I do,' protested the Lion Tamer.

'But without ever saying "please"?' asked Nanny Piggins.

The children gasped. They knew it was a terrible sin to ask for something and not say please. Nanny Piggins always made a point of saying 'please' to the man in the corner shop before she ripped all the chocolate off his shelves, tore open their wrappings and stuffed the whole lot in her mouth.

'I may have forgotten to say this word once or twice,' conceded the Lion Tamer.

'Hah – once or twice?! Try never!' accused Ethel.

'And what's this I hear about a whip?' asked Nanny Piggins.

'He's been beating Ethel with a whip?' asked Samantha, astounded that Ethel had merely run away and not eaten the Lion Tamer first.

'No, worse. He's been cracking it near me. He knows I don't like loud noises. It's terrible for my nerves,' complained Ethel.

'You brute,' accused Nanny Piggins.

'But this is what all the lion tamers do,' protested the Lion Tamer.

'That is no excuse. If all the Lion Tamers jumped in a lake, would you do that too?' asked Nanny Piggins.

'No,' pouted the Lion Tamer. Now it was his turn to sulk.

'I should think not,' said Nanny Piggins.

'So aren't you coming back to the circus then?' the Lion Tamer asked Ethel. 'What am I going to do without you? You're my best lion. Cassy and Amy can't do a triple somersault backwards through a burning hoop, no matter how much I waggle a chair in their faces.'

'Ethel has agreed to return under certain conditions,' said Nanny Piggins, taking a piece of paper out of her pocket, unfolding it and reading aloud. 'Number one, she gets to hold the whip and the chair every second night.'

'What?' exclaimed the Lion Tamer.

'It's only fair you take turns,' said Nanny Piggins sternly.

'I suppose,' said the Lion Tamer. 'All right, I agree.'

'Number two,' continued Nanny Piggins. 'You have to give her a big hug and say "well done" at the end of every performance.'

'But what will the other lion tamers say?!' complained the Lion Tamer.

'If your friends expect you to be rude, then perhaps you need to make new friends,' said Nanny Piggins sternly.

The Lion Tamer hung his head. He knew she was right. Lion tamers could be a very bad influence. 'All right,' he conceded.

'And finally, she wants a bright red convertible sports car,' said Nanny Piggins.

'What?!' exploded the Lion Tamer. 'I can't afford that!'

'That's all right,' said Nanny Piggins. 'Ethel is very good with money. She will work out a payment plan for you so you can manage it on your income.'

'Det er latterlig!' exclaimed the Lion Tamer (which is Danish for 'this is ridiculous').

'Do you want Ethel back or not?' asked Nanny Piggins.

'All right, I agree to it all,' said the Lion Tamer, knowing when he was beaten. He turned to Ethel. 'It is so good to have you back.' Then the Lion Tamer gave Ethel a big hug even though she had not done a show yet.

To celebrate, they all ate the seven-tier wedding cake (which just goes to show, if you bake a cake you will always find a reason for eating it) before Ethel and the Lion Tamer went home to the circus.

Their new arrangement was immediately a huge success. The crowds thought a lioness brandishing a whip and chair at a Lion Tamer and making him jump through hoops was a wonderfully ironic, post-modern statement. So all the shows where Ethel tamed the Lion Tamer quickly sold out. Pretty soon the Lion Tamer had to give up his turn holding the whip and chair completely. Ethel wrote and told Nanny Piggins all about it in a letter.

'Do you think Ethel is happy?' asked Samantha.

'Oh yes, I should think she's having a marvellous time,' said Nanny Piggins. 'Although we should keep the guest room ready.'

'Why?' asked Michael.

'From the sound of it, the Lion Tamer might be running away soon,' explained Nanny Piggins.

So they kept a packet of chocolate biscuits and a full box of tissues in the guest room, just in case.

'You children are very lucky,' began Mr Green pompously. Derrick, Samantha, Michael and Nanny Piggins immediately froze mid-breakfast.

'What have you done this time?' glowered Nanny Piggins.

'You can't send us to work in a sweatshop,' said Derrick. 'You know what the social worker said last time you tried.'

'Yes, well . . .' muttered Mr Green. He did not like to think about that incident. The social worker had yelled at him for several hours using the word 'ashamed' rather a lot. 'No, this is all above board. I have arranged for a sport scout to come and inspect you.'

'You've done what?' asked Nanny Piggins. She was perplexed. Mr Green had never shown any interest in sport before.

'I met a talent scout from the National Sports School. He says that if you get any child young enough, you can train them up to international standard. And you three are young, so I told him you would be most suitable,' explained Mr Green as he shoved another wholemeal muffin in his mouth.

'Which sport are we trying out for?' asked Derrick.

'I don't know,' said Mr Green dismissively. 'He'll measure you and make you run about a bit, I expect. Then he'll come to some decision.'

'I suppose that wouldn't be too bad,' said Nanny Piggins to the children reassuringly, 'so long as he picks you for a nice sport like rowing, where you get to sit down, and keep snacks in the boat.'

But Samantha suspected Mr Green's true motivation. 'Father, where is the National Sports School exactly?' she asked.

Mr Green smiled, totally failing to hide his glee. 'Six hundred and forty-three kilometres away. I measured it on a map,' he said triumphantly.

'But it will take forever for them to get there and back every day on the bus,' protested Nanny Piggins.

'It's a residential school,' said Mr Green. 'If they get in, they have to live there. They even get to stay in school holidays to do extra jogging.'

'What?' exploded Nanny Piggins.

The doorbell rang, saving Mr Green from the full brunt of Nanny Piggins' temper.

'That will be him now,' said Mr Green, getting to his feet.

'How long have you been planning this?' Nanny Piggins called after him.

'Oh, just a few months,' admitted Mr Green as he slipped out of the room to let the scout in.

'What are we going to do?' asked Derrick.

'What if they make us do sit-ups!' exclaimed Samantha.

'Should we make a run for it?' suggested Michael.

'No, the scout might see you and put you in the marathon team,' said Nanny Piggins. 'You'd better just play along with it for now. I'll think of something. Don't worry, I won't let them take you to a sports school. I barely think it's suitable you going to a regular school.'

And so the children went out into the back garden with their father and the sports scout. It was not too awful at first. The scout just measured them saying things like, 'Hmm, good pole vaulter's legs there,' and 'Yes, nice stumpy netball fingers,' and 'Excellent discus thrower's ankles.' But then he started making them do horrible things like run in circles and doing as many push-ups as they could until their arms collapsed.

Nanny Piggins and Boris watched from the rooftop. Mr Green had banned Nanny Piggins from going into the back garden. He correctly suspected that she would try to sabotage the process. Indeed, she was just wondering whether she would get in trouble if she threw her binoculars at Mr Green's head, when the most spectacular thing happened.

Now, Mr Green was not a man who believed in paying for home maintenance, so the roof had not been retiled for many years. That said, even a brand new roof is not designed to hold a 700-kilogram dancing bear who was, at that very moment, choreographing a dramatic ballet to express the unhappy emotions he felt as he watched the poor Green children being forced to do exercise. And so just as Boris did a grand jeté (which is ballet talk for 'flying leap'), the roof collapsed under him, sending Boris hurtling down through the attic, smashing through the ceiling and landing safely on the soft mattress of Nanny Piggins' bedroom.

But Nanny Piggins was not so lucky. The tiles her brother had dislodged were sent flying in every direction, so that the roof quite literally slipped out from under her, shooting her down the steep gable and out into the air, two storeys above the ground.

The children gasped in horror as they saw their nanny come hurtling towards the earth. Mr Green smiled to see his nanny plummeting towards her death. And the sports scout stared in open-mouthed awe having never seen such an impeccably dressed pig come shooting off a roof before.

But then an even more amazing thing happened. Nanny Piggins tucked in her trotters, curled up into a ball, spun around three times, stretched out into a perfect swan dive and landed effortlessly on the lawn as though this was the type of thing she did every day.

'Wow!' said Derrick.

Samantha was too shocked and Michael too impressed to speak.

'You could have crushed my gladioli,' grumbled Mr Green.

But then the scout stumbled forward, knocking Mr Green out of the way, and clutched Nanny Piggins by the shoulders. 'That was the single most impressive feat of athleticism I have seen in all my forty years as a sports scout,' said the sports scout.

'I'm not surprised,' said Nanny Piggins. For she was an honest pig, and she knew her flying abilities were second to none.

'I'm begging you, you have to join the national ski jumping team today,' said the scout. (He actually got down on his knees and clutched her trotters as he said this.)

'But what about the children?' spluttered Mr Green angrily. 'It's them you're meant to be taking away.'

'They're nice kids,' said the scout, 'but they've got about as much sporting talent as an avocado. I couldn't do anything with them.'

'What a relief,' said Samantha. She had been terrified they were going to force her to play hockey. She had a dread fear of being hit in the shins with a stick.

'But if you take the nanny, who will look after the children?' protested Mr Green, looking like he was about to cry.

'It's all right, I'll take them with me,' said Nanny Piggins. 'I wouldn't leave them here with you.'

'Oh, that's all right then,' said Mr Green, suddenly happy again. 'Well I'll leave you all to it. I knew this was a good idea of mine.' And with that he ran to his car, which actually caused the scout to raise an eyebrow, because Mr Green could put on some serious speed when he was trying to get away from his children.

'You must fly out to the Italian Alps immediately to meet the rest of the team and commence training,' said the scout.

'What exactly will Nanny Piggins be training for?' asked Derrick.

'The World Championships are in a fortnight. And our best ski jumper broke his leg yesterday when he tried to kick a cat and fell down a flight of stairs,' explained the scout.

'It just goes to show, cruelty to animals never pays,' said Nanny Piggins wisely. 'Except for my sister Wendy, who is a nasty piece of work and deserves a good pinch should you ever meet her.'

'We never thought we'd find a replacement in time, but as soon as I saw you fall off that roof . . .' said the scout, struggling to find the words to express his awe. 'It's almost as if you could fly.'

'Oh, I can,' said Nanny Piggins truthfully.

So the next day Nanny Piggins, Boris and the children arrived in the Italian Alps. Boris had had to travel in the hold, which made Nanny Piggins angry. Just because her brother was ten foot tall and weighed 700 kilograms did not mean he was not entitled to bad airline food like the rest of the passengers. But Boris did not mind. He enjoyed flying in the hold. He liked going through all the other passengers' suitcases and trying on their clothes. Sadly nothing ever fit. But Boris was an optimistic bear and he would not rest until he had stretched or torn every item of clothing trying.

When Nanny Piggins and her entourage arrived at the hotel, the rest of the ski jumping team was not immediately impressed.

'But you're a girl!' protested the coach.

'And a pig!' complained the team captain.

'I know,' said Nanny Piggins. 'It hardly seems fair. I have twice as many legs as you so that doubles the number of ways I can make a landing. But we read the rules carefully and they didn't say anything specifically excluding pigs.'

'Only sheep,' supplied Derrick.

'Which is understandable,' said Boris. 'Sheep are very nice, but silly creatures. And they cheat.'

'And so, here I am,' said Nanny Piggins.

'What's the furthest you've ever jumped?' asked the captain, glaring at his new team-mate.

'She made fourteen metres when she fell off the roof,' said Michael proudly.

'Don't tell me you've never been off a proper ski jump?!' exclaimed the coach.

'I've never even skied,' admitted Nanny Piggins.

'This is ridiculous!' said the captain.

The other ski jumpers from the team muttered grumpily.

'Why don't you give Nanny Piggins a go?' suggested Samantha. 'She'll surprise you.'

'Good idea,' decided the coach. 'If she breaks her neck we definitely won't have to have her in the team.'

So Nanny Piggins, Boris, the children and the entire national ski jumping team trudged up the snowy staircase to the top of the ski jump. There were a lot of stairs. This irritated Nanny Piggins. If she had known they would have to walk so far in an upwards direction she would have packed more snacks. As it was she made everyone stop for a cake break twice along the way (fortunately she had two large mud cakes in her handbag).

When they got to the top and looked down, the children were terrified. The ski jump was so long and steep, they did not see how jumping off it could possibly be a sport. It looked about as safe as leaping off a fifteen-storey building. But Nanny Piggins was unperturbed.

'Is that all?' she asked dismissively. 'Haven't you got a higher one?'

The captain ignored her bravado. 'Do you want me to run you through the basics?' he asked. Because he was not really a bad person, and he did not want to get in trouble for accidental pigacide.

'Young man,' said Nanny Piggins scornfully as she drew herself up to her full four feet of height. 'There is nothing
you
could teach
me
about flying.' Then she thought better of it. 'Actually, yes there is. Could you show me how to put the skis on?'