Snakes' Elbows Page 2

  Immediately, Barney slammed the door and turned the key, locking them out. His heart was pounding with fear.

  The man from the Woodford Trumpet began to hammer and bang. ‘Oi! You! That’s not fair! Let me in! Open this door or you’ll be sorry.’ The knocking went on and on, ending with a last blow so violent that Barney guessed correctly that the man had kicked the door with his splendid shiny black shoe of the finest leather. ‘Don’t think you’ve heard the last of this because you haven’t,’ he shouted through the letterbox. ‘You’ll be sorry!’

  By the time all of this was over Barney’s baked beans were stone cold. He returned to the kitchen and scraped them back into the pot to warm them up again but it wasn’t a success because of all the crumbs from the toast that were mixed in with the tomato sauce. Eventually Barney gave up.

  He went to his room where his piano was. No matter how bad he was feeling, even if the weather was cold and wet, even if he was lonely and people were being horrible to him, playing the piano always made him feel better. He loved listening to beautiful music, and to make that music, to be at the centre of that wonderful sound, to be a part of it, was the sweetest thing. And so opening his piano Barney started to play. Although he did not know it, something was to happen the following day that would completely change his life.

  When he was in town doing his shopping, Barney had asked to have the newspaper delivered to his house every day, and so when he went downstairs the following morning there was a copy of the Woodford Trumpet lying on the doormat.

  ‘WE SPILL THE BEANS ON BARMY BARNEY!’ screamed the headline. Below this there was a photograph of the plate of beans on toast Barney had been going to have for his lunch the previous day.

  ‘THE WOODFORD TRUMPET can reveal today that MAD millionaire Barney Barrington is a SKINFLINT!

  ‘“I LOVE smoked salmon,” the parsimonious pianist told our special reporter yesterday in an EXCLUSIVE interview “But it COSTS too much. So I eat baked beans. I don’t LIKE them, but at least they’re CHEAP!”’

  On the front page there was also a picture of a devilishly handsome man standing outside a white marquee with two big black Alsatians. ‘IT’S GOING TO BE A BIG ONE!’ read the caption, and then in slightly smaller print: ‘JASPER JELLIT, seen here with his DOGS Cannibal and Bruiser, tells the Trumpet EVERYTHING about his plans for this weekend’s INCREDIBLE party! Please see pages 2, 3, 4, 5 & 6.’

  Feeling rather glum, Barney went into the kitchen and made his breakfast, which was not a success. He was carrying it through the hall on a tray when suddenly the doorbell rang.

  ‘Oh no! Not again!’

  His heart began to thump and he stood still, hoping whoever was there would simply go away. But the doorbell rang again and suddenly the flap of the letterbox shot up, revealing a pair of small bright eyes. ‘So you are at home after all,’ said a voice.

  ‘Please go away,’ Barney pleaded.

  ‘Couldn’t we talk for a moment? I just wanted to ask you something.’

  ‘Are you a journalist?’

  ‘Me? No! Course not!’

  ‘Who are you then?’

  The small bright eyes blinked. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ the voice said sadly. ‘I’d best be on my way. People are always telling me to push off. Sorry to disturb you. It was just a thought.’ The flap of the letterbox snapped shut and the small bright eyes disappeared.

  ‘Stop! Wait!’ Barney put his tray down and threw open the front door.

  Standing on the doorstep was a roly-poly little man with wild hair and small bright eyes. He looked humorous and jolly and made no move to shove his foot in the door. ‘Hello!’ he said. ‘My name’s Wilf. I was just wondering if there was any chance of a job going.’

  ‘What kind of a job?’ said Barney.

  ‘Anything really,’ Wilf said. ‘I suppose I’m a bit late in the day, you’ve probably got loads of people working for you by now. I could mow your lawn or if you needed any painting or decorating I could do it. I can turn my hand to anything, me.’

  Even though he was no good at anything except playing the piano, it had never crossed Barney’s mind to employ anyone. But now that Wilf had suggested it, it seemed like a wonderful idea.

  Suddenly Wilf spotted the tray of food. ‘That your breakfast?’ Barney nodded. ‘Doesn’t look too tasty, does it? You’ve burnt your toast.’

  ‘I know,’ Barney said sadly.

  ‘And you’ve cut it into squares. Toast’s nicer when you cut it into triangles. If I came to work for you, I’d bring you your breakfast every morning.’

  ‘What would you give me?’

  ‘Whatever you wanted.’

  ‘That’s part of the problem,’ Barney sighed. ‘I never know what I want. I’m so indecisive.’

  ‘Let me see then,’ Wilf said. ‘Some days I’d bring you crumpets that I’d toasted until they were piping hot and I’d cover them with butter that would melt and drip through the holes. Then I’d sprinkle them with cinnamon and sugar. Other times I’d bring you cornflakes and a white china pot full of hot chocolate. Some mornings I’d even make you pancakes.’

  ‘What about lunch? Would you give me nice lunches too? And dinners?’

  ‘Course I would.’

  ‘And would you ever give me spinach or sprouts?’

  ‘Yuk! No! Never!’ said Wilf.

  ‘When can you start?’ asked Barney. Wilf started to work for Barney that very day. He went down to the supermarket and bought all the things that had been forgotten the day before. Although he was a small man he was extremely strong and he carried home a massive bag of shopping. At noon he made mashed potatoes with roast chicken and peas, and afterwards there was lemon pudding and cream. Barney was desperately hungry. He hadn’t had a proper meal since arriving in Woodford, what with the cold baked beans and the burnt toast, and he thought Wilf’s lunch was the most delicious thing he had eaten in years.

  In the early afternoon, just after Wilf had finished doing the dishes, a huge lorry pulled up outside the house.

  ‘What’s this all about?’

  ‘It’s my collection of paintings,’ Barney said anxiously as the men started to unload dozens of big wooden packing cases. To his great relief, Wilf immediately took charge, telling them where to put the boxes as they were brought into the house. After the men had gone, Barney and Wilf spent the rest of the day opening the cases and hanging the paintings on the walls. Wilf drilled holes and hammered in nails. With all the hard work, his hair became even wilder than it had been when he arrived at the house that morning, and stood straight up in mad tufts. He prised open each of the packing cases in turn and carefully lifted out the pictures.

  Barney loved his paintings so much. Seeing them again was like meeting old friends after many years. Because he had spent all his life living in hotels he had only ever been able to have one painting with him at any given time and the others had been kept in store until today. Taking them out of their boxes was like opening presents; it was like Christmas and his birthday all rolled into one. Some of the pictures were huge and filled a whole wall. Some were tiny and looked as if they had been painted using a brush with only one hair. There was the painting of a ship sailing off into the sunset. There was the castle on a cliff beside the sea. There was the beautiful woman with a yellow butterfly balanced on the tip of her finger – oh, there were so many of them, more than I could ever tell you, and each one was more wonderful than the one before.

  When all the paintings with their gold frames were on the walls, Wilf made them both an evening meal of cheese sandwiches and chocolate biscuits with orange juice. Barney had really enjoyed the day, unlike yesterday, when he had felt so lonely and miserable. ‘Will you come and work for me, Wilf?’ he asked as they were drinking their juice. ‘Will you help me with everything? You can live here if you want because there are lots of empty rooms.’ He also told Wilf that he would pay him and when he said how much, Wilf’s eyes opened wide.

  ‘As much as that? Are you s
ure?’

  ‘Certain,’ Barney said.

  ‘Done deal! Yippee!’

  Wilf was so pleased that even his hair looked happy.

  Meanwhile over at Jasper’s house, plans were proceeding for the big bash on Saturday night. It wasn’t just Cannibal and Bruiser who hated it when he threw a party; everybody who worked for him hated it too. Jasper was not a sweet-tempered man at the best of times but now he was unbearable. ‘Look at the state of that lawn!’ he screamed at the gardener. ‘Call that a cake, do you?’ he thundered at the pastry cook. ‘You think that’s good wine?’ he bellowed at the cellar man.

  The odd thing about this was that everything was perfect. The lawn looked like a billiard table. The airy cake was light and delicious. The bottle of wine was fragrant and sweet. But none of this stopped Jasper from working himself up into a complete tantrum, throwing himself down and screeching and howling.

  ‘Oh grow up, for goodness sake,’ Cannibal and Bruiser thought as they watched him hammering on the ground with his feet and his fists.

  All of Jasper’s parties had a theme. At the most recent one, all the guests had been told to dress up as animals. Jasper himself had gone as a parrot. He had worn an extraordinary costume made of thousands and thousands of brightly coloured feathers, all sewn together by hand (although not, of course, by Jasper). At the back was a long green feathery tail that trailed the ground when he walked. As you might imagine, he looked like a complete twit. Because all the people at the party were dressed as animals – mice and rabbits and monkeys and cats – Jasper thought it would be hilarious if the animals at the party were dressed as people. He therefore, at great expense, had some clothes made for the two dogs. Cannibal was forced to wear a three-piece pinstriped suit with a shirt and tie. Jasper even had a jeweller make Cannibal a little pocket watch on a chain. Poor Bruiser had to put on a small silk frock printed with roses and with a wide pink sash. How the guests laughed when they saw the two dogs! Even the ones who didn’t think it was funny pretended that they did because they were afraid of Jasper. ‘Don’t they look ridiculous! Isn’t it a hoot!’

  The circus party had been even worse although to begin with it hadn’t seemed so, for Cannibal and Bruiser had only had to wear small frilly collars like circus dogs, and pointy hats. Jasper was dressed as a ringmaster, complete with a top hat, a red satin jacket and a long leather whip. The whole house and garden had been turned into a circus. There were acrobats in the library and a lion tamer in the conservatory. There were fire-eaters on the lawn, a dancing bear in the front hall and everywhere there were clowns.

  Although there was lots of good food, Cannibal and Bruiser weren’t given any because all the guests were under strict instructions not to feed the dogs. The guests knew that if they broke this rule they risked being thrown out immediately and never invited to any of Jasper’s parties ever again. Jasper always kept the dogs hungry to make them bad-tempered. He liked the idea of being seen out and about with two mad snarling Alsatians because it would make him look frightening and Jasper loved to think that people were scared of him. Cannibal and Bruiser were such good-natured dogs however that they didn’t become black-hearted no matter how mean Jasper was to them. They spent most of their lives trailing around behind him in a deep sulk.

  *

  On the night of the circus party they wandered around the house and grounds, sticking together and looking out for each other.

  ‘Careful, Cannibal!’ Bruiser said, as a trick cyclist whizzed past, missing his companion by a whisker.

  ‘Mind out, Bruiser,’ Cannibal exclaimed, as a spinning plate fell off a pole and smashed to the ground, almost hitting his friend on the head.

  And then suddenly behind them, Raakk! Someone had cracked a whip. The two dogs looked at each other in fright. Raakk! ‘What will we do?’ Cannibal asked.

  ‘Run,’ Bruiser said. ‘RUN!’

  Raakk! The dogs ran and ran as fast as they possibly could to try to get away, but ahead of them now someone was holding up a hoop. Now this would have been no problem whatsoever except for one minor detail: the hoop was on fire. It was a perfect circle of flickering orange flames against the night sky and they could feel the heat of it already on their snouts because, still running at full pelt, Cannibal and Bruiser were heading straight for it!

  ‘What will we do?’ Bruiser asked.

  ‘Jump,’ Cannibal said. ‘JUMP!’

  Side by side and more terrified than they had ever been in all their lives, the two dogs leapt through the blazing hoop. They made it, but it was a tight fit. Cannibal’s collar was slightly burnt on the right-hand side and the hair on Bruiser’s left flank was scorched. Trembling and panting, they collapsed on the grass. All around them was a huge crowd of people laughing and clapping their hands, congratulating Jasper and telling him how clever he was. For as you may have guessed by now, it was he who had both cracked the whip and held up the hoop. Yes, as far as Cannibal and Bruiser were concerned, the circus party had definitely been the worst so far.

  On Wednesday morning the postman made a special delivery to over two hundred people in Woodford. He brought them a long flat white box tied with a green ribbon and inside each box was a bar of milk chocolate. PARTY! was written on it in white chocolate, and then below that:

  Jasper Jellit requests the pleasure of your company this Saturday night at his amazing, unbelievable, no-expense-spared, once-in-a-lifetime, never-before-seen-in-Woodford-nor-indeed-anywhere-else-for-that-matter CHOCOLATE PARTY!!!

  Below that again was added, ‘Eight o’clock sharp. Posh frocks and best suits essential.’

  All the guests were terribly excited. ‘There’ll be a chocolate pudding as big as a bus,’ they said to each other on their way to the party on Saturday night, dressed up to the nines. ‘There’ll be great pyramids of Woodford Creams all over the place. Buckets of chocolate ice cream. Chocolate biscuits and chocolate toffee and chocolate fudge and chocolate gateau and chocolate creams and simply hundreds and hundreds of bars of chocolate!’ And do you know what? All the guests were completely …

  Wrong!

  At eight on the dot, two trumpet players came out on to the top step of the white marble staircase that led to the front door of Jasper’s flashy great mansion. They blew a fanfare and all the guests who were milling around on the lawn below fell silent. Then the front door of the house flew open and there was Jasper, looking rather dashing in his dinner jacket, with Cannibal and Bruiser on either side of him.

  ‘Welcome, friends, welcome!’ he cried, after the applause had died down. ‘I am delighted that you have all been able to come to my party and I promise you a night to remember. When you are weary old folk with grey hair and boring lives you will still be able to impress people by telling them that you were here tonight, because this is a party that is going to go down in history. And so without further ado, let the Great Chocolate Party begin!’

  Immediately the gardens were all lit up and the fountains came on. And suddenly the air was full of the smell of hot chocolate, because that was what was flowing through Jasper’s three fountains this evening instead of water. There was one fountain of white chocolate, one of milk and one of plain. The guests also noticed that there were lots of new statues scattered about the lawn and they too were made of chocolate. There was a whole orchard that had been put in place for that night only and from the branches of the trees hung pears and apples made of chocolate. In the flower beds were chocolate roses and snapdragons and lilies. ‘Help yourselves!’ Jasper cried. ‘Have fun!’

  To begin with, it was all very well-behaved. Beside each fountain stood servants with china cups so that the guests could fill them with the hot chocolate if they wished to drink. There were also baskets of strawberries and marshmallows, biscuits and tiny cakes, together with long forks so that the guests could dip them in the basins of the fountains and coat them in chocolate before eating them. ‘How clever of Jasper!’ they said as they politely waited their turn. ‘Always so original. Always
so imaginative,’ and they snapped off a chocolate rose or two and nibbled on them delicately.

  Cannibal and Bruiser slunk around the garden hoping they wouldn’t be noticed. They hadn’t forgotten the day Jasper had fed them the Woodford Creams. Someone licked the toes of a statue standing nearby. ‘It really is made of chocolate,’ she said, ‘the best chocolate I’ve ever eaten in my whole life.’

  As time went on, the guests’ manners began to slip. They dipped their fingers in the liquid chocolate of the fountains and licked them, then their whole hands. They dived head first into the rose bushes and gorged themselves on the chocolate flowers. Instead of reaching up into the branches to pull a single pear or apple made of chocolate, they climbed up into the trees and shook them until dozens of fruits tumbled into the grass below. The two dogs watched in dismay to see how greedy people can be, as the guests snapped off whole arms and legs from the statues and crept away to guzzle them alone. By this time some of them were even being sick behind the bushes because they had eaten so much.

  ‘Tee hee! This will be a lark!’

  Before Cannibal and Bruiser knew what was happening, some guests had sneaked up behind them, grabbed them and Splash! – thrown them in the fountains.

  ‘Help! Help!’ Cannibal cried to his friend as he struggled not to sink in the basin of hot white chocolate. But there was nothing Bruiser could do, because she was thrashing around in the fountain that was full of hot dark chocolate. ‘Don’t open your mouth! Don’t swallow any and whatever you do, don’t lick yourself!’

  With enormous difficulty the two dogs eventually managed to heave themselves out of the fountains, but not before they were both completely covered in chocolate. How Jasper and the guests howled with laughter to see them, one white and one plain! And then they simply walked away and forgot about them. Cannibal and Bruiser felt the chocolate harden around them.