Paddington Here and Now Read Free

policeman. He broke off as a door opened and an older man came into the room. He had some stripes on his sleeve, and he looked very important.
    “Ah,” said the man, consulting a piece of paper he was holding. “Bush hat…blue duffle coat…Wellington boots…fits the description I was given over the phone…you must be the younggentleman who’s had trouble with his shopping basket on wheels.”
    He turned to the first policeman. “You did well to keep him talking, Finsbury. Full marks.”
    “It was nothing, Sarge,” said the constable, who seemed to have got some of his color back.

    “It seems there’s been a bit of a mix-up with the lads in the tow-away department,” continued the sergeant, turning back to Paddington. “They put your basket on their vehicle for safekeeping while they were removing a car and forgot to take it off again. It went back to the depot with them.
    “They’ve put some fresh buns in it for you. Apparently, somehow or other the ones that were in it got lost en route . Even now the basket’s on its way back to where you left it. And there’s nothing to pay. “What do you say to that?”
    “Thank you very much, Mr. Sarge,” said Paddington gratefully. “It means I shan’t have to speak to Sir Bernard Crumble after all. If you don’t mind, I shall always come here first if ever my shopping basket on wheels gets towed away.”
    “That’s what we’re here for,” said the sergeant. “Although I think I should warn you, it may be a bit heavier now than when you first set out this morning.”
     
    “Quite right too,” said Paddington’s friend Mr. Gruber when they eventually sat down to theirelevenses and Paddington told him the full story, including the moment when he got back to the market and found to his surprise that his basket on wheels was full to the top with fruit and vegetables.

    “You have been a very good customer over the years, and I daresay none of the traders want to see you go elsewhere. It is a great compliment to you, Mr. Brown.
    “All the same,” he continued, “it must have been a nasty experience while it lasted. If I were you, Iwould start your elevenses before the cocoa gets cold. You must be in need of it.”
    Paddington thought that was a very good idea indeed. “Perhaps,” he said, looking up at the antique clock on the wall of the shop, “just this once, Mr. Gruber, we ought to call it twelveses.”



Chapter Two
P ADDINGTON’S G OOD T URN
    L IKE MOST HOUSEHOLDS up and down the country, number 32 Windsor Gardens had its own set routine.
    In the case of the Brown family, Mr. Brown usually went off to his office soon after breakfast, leaving Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Bird to go about their daily tasks. Most days, apart from the timeswhen Jonathan and Judy were home for the school holidays, Paddington spent the morning visiting his friend Mr. Gruber for cocoa and buns.
    There were occasional upsets, of course, but on the whole the household was like an ocean liner. It steamed happily on its way, no matter what the weather.
    So when Mrs. Bird returned home one day to what she fully expected to be an empty house and saw a strange face peering at her through the landing window, it took a moment or two to recover from the shock, and by then whoever it was had gone.
    What made it far worse was the fact that she was halfway up the stairs to her bedroom at the time, which meant the face belonged to someone outside the house.
    She hadn’t seen any sign of a ladder on her way in; but all the same she rushed back downstairs again, grabbed the first weapon she could lay her hands on, and dashed out into the garden.
    Apart from a passing cat, which gave a loud shriek and scuttled off with its tail between its legswhen it caught sight of her umbrella, everything appeared to be normal, so it was a mystery and no mistake.
    When they heard the news later that day, Mr. and Mrs. Brown couldn’t help wondering if Mrs. Bird had been mistaken, but they didn’t say so