Fennymore and the Brumella (9 page)

CHAPTER 21

In which Dr Hourgood breaks his promise

‘Harrumph, it's about time,' the doctor said, looking at the tin. ‘Come in.'

Fennymore entered the house and the front door closed behind him.

Just keep calm
, he said to himself.

But that was easier said than done, three centimetres from the man who had arranged his mother's disappearance and was responsible for his father's madness. He noticed the heat and the smell of peppermint that the doctor's body gave off and he shuddered.

He must just keep nice and calm and polite, as discussed with Herr Muckenthaler. Otherwise the doctor would smell a rat and that would be the end of the plan.

The doctor gave Fennymore an amused look. ‘I told you, you haven't a hope against me.'

Fennymore swallowed. He was boiling with rage and he had to make an effort to control himself and not kick the doctor on the shin. They were still standing in the entrance hallway of the villa. There were doors in all directions and an ornate staircase, carpeted in red velvet, led up to the first floor.

‘Well?' said the doctor, stretching out his hand. Fennymore handed over the tin obediently. He felt like a right idiot.

‘Ha!' crowed the doctor triumphantly as he raised the lid and peered inside.

‘Eh, what's in it, then?' asked Fennymore, trying to look as innocent as possible.

The doctor gave his moustache a thoughtful tug.

‘And where is Fizzy?' asked Fennymore. ‘Can she come with me now?'

‘Odd,' murmured the doctor thoughtfully. ‘I expected the mechanism. Or at least a construction blueprint. But this …' Carefully, he set the chocolates aside and held the key up to the light. ‘This changes things, obviously.'

The pale, cold eyes of Dr Hourgood became colder than ever and his face took on an extremely eerie, decisive expression. And then Fennymore felt himself being shoved hard in the back and was suddenly in complete darkness. Behind him, he heard the sound of a key being turned in a lock.

‘You must understand,' came a muffled voice, as if through a door, ‘that I have to check it all out. If this key takes me to where I want to go, then I'll let you and your little friend go.'

And then Fennymore heard a noise, followed by a ‘Harrumph' and the sound of the front door closing.

CHAPTER 22

In which a fat orange-striped cat changes her mind

It was dark and smelt of peppermints. Another smell also invaded Fennymore's nostrils. A medicinal kind of smell that seemed somehow familiar. Fennymore felt around in front of him. There was some kind of bed or couch, covered in a smooth material. And here? He banged against something hard and a few utensils clattered to the floor. He must be in the doctor's consulting room. He'd been here with his mother that time he'd had tonsillitis. Unfortunately he couldn't remember much about it. But he could taste again the horrible medicine on his tongue. He spat in disgust.

He thought to himself that Dr Hourgood didn't have a decent bone in his body. Anyone who could make such an appalling pact with the silvery grey man wouldn't think twice about breaking a promise to an eleven-year-old boy.

Then Fennymore heard a lot of clanking and banging and the door was pushed open. Monbijou was standing there, ringing his bell excitedly.

‘How did you get here?' Fennymore cried, grabbing hold of his old blue bike delightedly by the handlebars. ‘Come on, quick. We have to find Fizzy. The doctor has her locked up here somewhere.'

They opened every door that led off the swanky hall. Nothing. Or at least no Fizzy. The rooms were full of expensive furniture and paintings. In one room there were shelves full of gleaming silver cups, and in the last room they looked in part of Aunt Elsie's goods and chattels had been piled up. Fennymore recognised cushions with birds on them, old chests and a sofa with a yellow throw. It was all tied up with Aunt Elsie's green washing line and, right at the very bottom, a flowery nightdress poked out.

Fennymore had seen enough. Panting with rage, he banged the door closed and looked around the hall. Monbijou turned hesitantly towards the stairs. Then he gave a lurch and started to clatter up the red carpeted staircase, leaving a trail of dust and earth behind him. It would serve Hourgood right, Fennymore thought gleefully, racing up the stairs behind Monbijou, two steps at a time.

They could hear it even through the door. A loud combination of purring, hissing and indignant mewing. Fennymore rapidly unlocked the door. Luckily the doctor had been so sure of himself that he'd left the key in the lock.

Fizzy was sitting in a pale-blue velvet armchair, holding a large silver brush in her hand. Her face was scratched and she was grimacing disgustedly. Lying in front of her on another armchair was an oversized orange cat, and every time Fizzy stopped brushing, it smacked her with its paw and gave an awful squall.

Fennymore would have nearly died laughing at the expression on Fizzy's face, only that she was so horribly scratched.

‘Fennymore, at last!' Fizzy cried, flinging the brush in a wide arc across the room and falling on his neck.

The cat pulled itself up with a snarl, arched its back and was just about to leap onto Fizzy's back with its claws unsheathed, but Monbijou was too quick for it. He caught it in a headlock between his frame and his front wheel and rang his bell loudly.

Fennymore took a step back, dismayed at Fizzy's sudden display of emotion.

‘Heavens, Fizzy, that needs disinfecting.'

‘I'm bloody well going to get cat-rot!' She spat in disgust on the carpet. ‘I had to groom that cat all afternoon. And I hate cats. What kept you so long, Fennymore?'

He filled Fizzy in quickly on all that had happened. Monbijou still had the cat in a headlock and was ringing his bell at it all the time. The cat mewed back. It sounded almost like a conversation.

Suddenly Monbijou let the creature go.

‘Are you mad, Monbijou!' cried Fizzy. ‘She needs to be locked up. For at least a hundred and fifty years. On bread and water.'

But the cat looked innocently at Fizzy and Fennymore and purred. Then she scuttled over to Fennymore and rubbed herself against his legs. Fizzy took a startled step backwards as the cat approached. The cat backed off and then lay down on the floor and looked ingratiatingly at Fizzy.

‘I think she wants to stay with us,' said Fennymore, and when he saw Fizzy's expression, he couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing.

CHAPTER 23

In which a lot happens at once and two stinky socks play a decisive role

‘And Hubert really hasn't turned up again?' Fizzy yelled into the wind. ‘The miserable wretch.'

She was holding onto Fennymore for dear life on the back carrier as Monbijou raced as fast as he could along the main street towards The Bronx.

They had decided to change the plan and not to wait for Herr Muckenthaler at Frau Plüsch's.

‘Ring the police?' Fizzy had cried in horror, when Fennymore told her the plan. ‘Fennymore, you can't seriously think they would arrest him. He is the mayor and probably an honorary member of the Commissioner-in-Chief's bowling club.' And so they had decided to bring Dr Hourgood to book all by themselves.

‘Miaow,' came from the basket that was hanging on the handlebars.

‘She must be hungry,' said Fennymore. ‘What does a cat like to eat?'

‘That one eats creamed herring,' Fizzy announced in disgust.

Fennymore's tummy rumbled. No wonder. Herr Muckenthaler's stale peanut brittle was definitely not what you would call nutritious. He longed for a banana-split. He must have said the word out loud, because Fizzy answered him immediately. ‘What? Banana-split?'

Fennymore recited a piece out of the Dictionary of Inventions into the wind.

Banana-split: A sundae with bananas, cream, vanilla ice-cream and chocolate sauce. Was invented more than a hundred years ago in the USA. Peel one banana per person, halve it lengthwise and lay it on a plate. If there is a crack in the plate, the banana will do a super job of hiding it. Add a spoon of whipped cream and a scoop of vanilla ice cream. For the chocolate sauce, simply melt half a bar of chocolate in a saucepan and pour over. Enjoy.

Fizzy was just about to ask what on earth ‘Enjoy' meant, but they'd just arrived at the little dirt track that led straight to The Bronx's front door. Monbijou slowed down.

‘Right, quiet please. Concentrate,' whispered Fennymore. ‘We have to get this right.'

* * *

Fennymore's father was moving through the wood. He didn't know exactly who he was or what he was doing here, but he had the distinct impression that he had to do this. That car – he suddenly felt sure that was what the big shiny thing was called – had triggered something in him. Looking neither right nor left, he set off cross country. A few times something wet fell from the sky and he got cold, but he kept running further and further and then he saw it. In the distance. A large house looming up blackly against the dark grey sky. He was in the right place here – he could sense it. Carefully he came closer. The words ‘house' and ‘Bronx' formed in his head.

And there it was again, the dreadful car. It was parked directly in front of the house. He wanted to kick it, trash it. But no, better to keep quiet.

Boris Muckenthaler came panting to a stop behind him. ‘Mr Teabreak, that was at least five kilometres. You are in admirable condition.' He came forward, holding his sides. Then he also noticed the doctor's car.

‘He's here already,' he said. ‘Mr Teabreak, it's getting dodgy. We'll have to –'

But Herr Muckenthaler didn't get a chance to say what he thought they had to do. Beardy put a finger to his beard and said, ‘Pssst.' Then he crouched down, took Herr Muckenthaler by the collar of his cord jacket and dragged him through the gate.

The door to The Bronx was open and a light was burning inside. They could make out the outline of a fat body moving behind the windows. The huge shape moved here and there, bent down and after a while shot up again. He didn't fit in here.

‘That wretched brat!' a deep voice cried out.

That voice!

Everything suddenly came together in Fenibald Teabreak. He consisted now of nothing but rage and strength. He let go of Herr Muckenthaler's collar, pulled his shoes off – those were called shoes – and started to creep towards the door in stocking feet.

‘Mr Teabreak, I think we'd better –'

Once again, Fennymore's father put a finger to his bearded lips and said, ‘Pssst'. Then he said in a firm voice, ‘Hourgood, seldom good.'

Herr Muckenthaler suddenly felt limitless admiration for this man who wasn't going to let anything stop him, brain modification or no brain modification. He, Boris Muckenthaler, was going to help him, whatever it took.

The deep voice of the doctor, cursing indignantly to himself, grew louder.

‘It can only be in the garden, and if not, woe betide that boy!' it said, and then Dr Hourgood stepped menacingly out of the door.

* * *

They were almost at the house. Monbijou stopped so that his squeaking wouldn't give them away.

‘You'd better take the basket,' Fizzy whispered to Fennymore, looking suspiciously at the cat, who had curled up inside it and was watching them out of half-closed eyes.

They crept carefully closer, past the doctor's car. They could see a beam of light and hear a deep voice calling something out loud.

‘That's him, the wretch!' snarled Fizzy.

‘Pssst,' went Fennymore. ‘Concentrate. On the count of three. We'll all jump on him together. Merle, you are to give him a good scratching on the face. And then we'll have to tie him up good and quick.'

‘With the washing line that he pinched from your great-aunt,' said Fizzy with a giggle.

‘Pssst,' said Fennymore again. ‘Let's go. One –'

They were at the garden gate.

‘Two –'

Fizzy went to open the gate and Fennymore gripped the handle of the basket.

‘And …'

Now they could hear the doctor quite clearly.

‘Help! What … umph!'

‘… three!'

As one, Fizzy and Fennymore jumped out from behind the gate. What followed was indescribable chaos. Arms, legs, stomachs, heads – and somewhere in the middle of it all, Fennymore. He could just make out a scrap of light-brown corduroy. And was that a blue eye, surrounded by freckles, gleaming out from behind a strand of grey hair?

‘Help!' yelled Fizzy from behind him. ‘What's going on here?'

‘Hee-hee! Done and dusted, cress and mustard,' tittered a voice that sounded remarkably like Beardy's.

Fennymore tried to move, but he was stuck fast.

‘Take it easy,' came a muffled voice from underneath him. Herr Muckenthaler. ‘Fizzy, I think you must be on top. Can you jump down, please?'

The weight on top of Fennymore lifted.

‘And now you, Fennymore.'

Fennymore carefully extracted his limbs from the heap and climbed down. By the time Herr Muckenthaler and Beardy had sat up, there was only one person left on the ground. Doctor Hourgood's arms and legs were stretched out a long way and he wasn't moving. He had a red-and-white-striped sock over his mouth and one over his nose. The cat sat next to him, her fur all rumpled, looking accusingly at Fizzy and Fennymore.

‘Fennymore!' cried Beardy suddenly. ‘My son.'

Fennymore didn't stop to think even for a second but leapt forward and flung his arms around his father, holding him as tight as he could.