Read Online One Of Our Dinosaurs Is Missing by David Forrest - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: David Forrest
Tags: Comedy
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see the old bront, then.” He winked at Emily. “He ain’t going anywhere.”
Emily’s face was angry. She turned towards Susanne. The young nanny shook her head, violently. “It wathn’t me, truly,” she whispered, hurriedly. “It’th jutht a horrid cointhidence.”
“Robert Bruce, General Gordon, Flora Macdonald,” said Hettie, when they had joined Una in the park again. “And maybe the MacPhish of Kingussie.”
“Who?” asked Melissa.
“Sorry,” said Hettie. “We were just thinking of people we’d like to have with us on a raid like this.”
“I’ve heard of most of them,” said Susanne. “But who’s the MacPhish of whatever-it-was?”
“A relation,” said Hettie. She didn’t explain that it was her grandfather, a red-bearded giant of a drunkard who needed a whole lorry-load of Glasgow policemen to get him out of the Kingussie Street Arms any night of the week.
Susanne thought of the statue outside the museum. “I’d like to have Theodore Roosevelt with uth. He wath brave, and audathious.”
“Not so audacious as you, expecting him to help you rob his own memorial,” laughed Una.
“The dear, late king was always my hero,” said Emily, nostalgically. “He’d have taken a dinosaur to save England. I can picture him doing it just like the scene on the back of a gold sovereign.”
“King George, a saint! How perfectly apt,” said Hettie. “And how romantic. He was a REAL gentleman.”
“Breeding, my dear,” said Emily, brushing down the front of her uniform, then straightening the cushions in her baby carriage.
“Now for some careful planning. We’ve got to handle this like a military operation,” said Hettie. She pictured herself, a clan leader, kilt-clad and armed with a heavy claymore, with her followers on the eve of Culloden. “Over the top we’ll go. Trumpets sounding the charge. Horses’ hooves thundering. Banners waving in the breeze. Wi’ the clans hovering their war cries. That’s how it’ll be.”
The four nannies looked at her in amazement. “Well, er, not quite like that,” Hettie corrected herself. “We’ll be most lady-like, and extremely discreet.”
“D’you think we should try thmuggling the bones out under our thkirts?” asked Susanne. “I once heard of a shoplifter who dressed herself as an expectant lady and filled a thpecial pair of flannel knickers with radio thets. She’d have got away with it, too, but one of them got thwitched on, and the thtore detective heard her giving out a weather forecast.”
“Humph,” said Emily. “We’re not shoplifters. And I’ve not wasted my time during the last two days. I’ve already thought of a way of getting the bones out of the museum. I’ve found a good escape route. I started working on the idea, knowing that my letter was going to make the museum paint that hall.”
“But the man in the hall thaid ...” began Susanne. “Stuff and nonsense,” said Emily. “Perhaps they ARE painting the hall because someone wrote something stupid on the walls. But I know they’d have done it, anyway. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the museum director found he couldn’t get permission to decorate the hall for his royal visitor, so he went out and wrote the rude slogans himself, in order to justify the work.”
“Quaite,” said Una’s exaggerately-refined North London voice. She glanced at her watch “My goodness, it’s four fifteen.”
Hettie checked her own timepiece. “We’ll have to hurry, or we’ll miss tea-time. Let’s go and have it at the Tavern. And we’ll talk more about the plan there.” She turned to Emily and whispered, quietly. “Remember, this is our responsibility, Nanny Emily. Partly your plan . . . but our full responsibility. We are still the senior nurse when it comes to making final decisions. Now, kindly explain your plan to us.”
Emily nodded.
They parked the perambulators in the tree-shaded open-air cafe, and sat at a nearby table.
“Tea,
Emily’s face was angry. She turned towards Susanne. The young nanny shook her head, violently. “It wathn’t me, truly,” she whispered, hurriedly. “It’th jutht a horrid cointhidence.”
“Robert Bruce, General Gordon, Flora Macdonald,” said Hettie, when they had joined Una in the park again. “And maybe the MacPhish of Kingussie.”
“Who?” asked Melissa.
“Sorry,” said Hettie. “We were just thinking of people we’d like to have with us on a raid like this.”
“I’ve heard of most of them,” said Susanne. “But who’s the MacPhish of whatever-it-was?”
“A relation,” said Hettie. She didn’t explain that it was her grandfather, a red-bearded giant of a drunkard who needed a whole lorry-load of Glasgow policemen to get him out of the Kingussie Street Arms any night of the week.
Susanne thought of the statue outside the museum. “I’d like to have Theodore Roosevelt with uth. He wath brave, and audathious.”
“Not so audacious as you, expecting him to help you rob his own memorial,” laughed Una.
“The dear, late king was always my hero,” said Emily, nostalgically. “He’d have taken a dinosaur to save England. I can picture him doing it just like the scene on the back of a gold sovereign.”
“King George, a saint! How perfectly apt,” said Hettie. “And how romantic. He was a REAL gentleman.”
“Breeding, my dear,” said Emily, brushing down the front of her uniform, then straightening the cushions in her baby carriage.
“Now for some careful planning. We’ve got to handle this like a military operation,” said Hettie. She pictured herself, a clan leader, kilt-clad and armed with a heavy claymore, with her followers on the eve of Culloden. “Over the top we’ll go. Trumpets sounding the charge. Horses’ hooves thundering. Banners waving in the breeze. Wi’ the clans hovering their war cries. That’s how it’ll be.”
The four nannies looked at her in amazement. “Well, er, not quite like that,” Hettie corrected herself. “We’ll be most lady-like, and extremely discreet.”
“D’you think we should try thmuggling the bones out under our thkirts?” asked Susanne. “I once heard of a shoplifter who dressed herself as an expectant lady and filled a thpecial pair of flannel knickers with radio thets. She’d have got away with it, too, but one of them got thwitched on, and the thtore detective heard her giving out a weather forecast.”
“Humph,” said Emily. “We’re not shoplifters. And I’ve not wasted my time during the last two days. I’ve already thought of a way of getting the bones out of the museum. I’ve found a good escape route. I started working on the idea, knowing that my letter was going to make the museum paint that hall.”
“But the man in the hall thaid ...” began Susanne. “Stuff and nonsense,” said Emily. “Perhaps they ARE painting the hall because someone wrote something stupid on the walls. But I know they’d have done it, anyway. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the museum director found he couldn’t get permission to decorate the hall for his royal visitor, so he went out and wrote the rude slogans himself, in order to justify the work.”
“Quaite,” said Una’s exaggerately-refined North London voice. She glanced at her watch “My goodness, it’s four fifteen.”
Hettie checked her own timepiece. “We’ll have to hurry, or we’ll miss tea-time. Let’s go and have it at the Tavern. And we’ll talk more about the plan there.” She turned to Emily and whispered, quietly. “Remember, this is our responsibility, Nanny Emily. Partly your plan . . . but our full responsibility. We are still the senior nurse when it comes to making final decisions. Now, kindly explain your plan to us.”
Emily nodded.
They parked the perambulators in the tree-shaded open-air cafe, and sat at a nearby table.
“Tea,
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