the front of the leaflet was a photograph of Mother looking incredibly serious, with her finest pearls around her neck, her hair so waxy with spray that it would become a fireball if you put a lit match to it. Inside was a long list of her policies.
1) A curfew to be introduced to ensure all children under 30 are not allowed out after 8pm and are preferably in bed with lights out by 9pm.
2) The police to be given new powers to arrest people for talking too loudly in public.
3) Litterbugs to be deported.
4) The wearing of leggings to be outlawed in public areas, as they are ‘extremely common’.
5) The national anthem to be played in the town square every hour on the hour. Everyone must be upstanding for this. Being in a wheelchair is no excuse for not paying your respects to Her Majesty.
6) All dogs to be kept on leads at all times. Even indoors.
7) Verruca socks to be worn by everyone attending the local swimming pool whether they have a verruca or not. This should cut down the chance of verruca infection to less than zero.
8) The Christmas pantomime to be discontinued due to the consistent lewdness of the humour (jokes about bottoms, for example. There is nothing funny about a bottom. We all have a bottom and we all know full well what comes out of a bottom and what sound a bottom can make of its own accord).
9) Church-going on Sunday morning to be compulsory. And when you do go you have to sing the hymns properly, not just open and close your mouth when the organ plays.
10) Mobile telephonic devices to have only classical music ringtones from now on, like Mozart and Beethoven and one of the other ones, not the latest pop songs from the hit parade.
11) Unemployed people not to be allowed to claim benefit any more. Dole scum only have themselves to blame and are just plain idle. Why should we pay for them to sit at home all day watching or appearing on The Jeremy Kyle Show?
12) Giant bronze statues of royals Prince Edward and his fragrant wife Sophie, Countess of Wessex, to be erected in the local park.
13) Tattoos on anyone but visiting sailors to be banned. Tattoos can to be dropped off anonymously at police stations without prosecution.
14) Fast food burger restaurants to introduce plates, cutlery and table service. And stop serving burgers. And French fries. And nuggets. And those apple pies that are always too hot in the middle.
15) The local library to stock only the works of Beatrix Potter. Apart from The Tale of Mr Jeremy Fisher, as the sequence when the frog, Mr Fisher, is swallowed by a trout is far too violent even for adults.
16) Football games in the local park are a nuisance. From now on only imaginary balls to be used.
17) Only nice films to be offered for rental in Blockbuster. That is to say films about posh people from the olden days who are too shy even to hold hands.
18) To combat the growing problem of ‘hoodies’ all hooded tops to be have the hoods cut off.
19) Video games rot the brain. Any video games (or computer games or console games or whatever the stupid things are called) to be played only between 4pm and 4:01pm daily.
20) Finally, all homeless people, or ‘soap-dodgers’, are to be banned from our streets. They are a menace to society. And, more importantly, they smell.
Chloe slumped down on the sofa when she read these last sentences. There was a loud squeak as she did so. Mother had insisted on keeping on the plastic covers the sofa and armchair had arrived in, so as to keep them immaculate. They were indeed still immaculate, but it meant your bum got really hot and sweaty.
What about my new friend Mr Stink? Chloe thought. What’s going to happen to him? And what about the Duchess? If he is banned from the streets where on earth is he going to go?
And then, a moment later, Wow, my bum is getting incredibly hot and sweaty.
She chaffed her way sadly back up the stairs to her room. Sitting on her bed, she stared out of the window. Because she was shy and awkward, Chloe didn’t make friends easily. Now her newest friend Mr Stink was going to have to leave the town. Maybe for ever. She stared out through the glass at the deep blue endless air. Then, just before her eyes lost focus in the infinite sky of nothing, she looked down. The answer was at the end of the garden staring back at her.
The shed.
This operation had to be top-secret. Chloe waited until darkness fell, and then led Mr Stink and the Duchess silently down her street, before slipping through the side gate to her garden.
“It’s just a shed…” said Chloe apologetically as they entered his new abode. “I’m sorry there’s no ensuite bathroom, but there is a bucket in the corner there just behind the lawnmower. You can use that if you need to go in the night…”
“Well, this is unimaginably kind, young Miss Chloe, thank you,” said Mr Stink, smiling broadly. Even the Duchess seemed to bark ‘thank you’, or at least ‘cheers’. “Now,” continued Mr Stink, “are you sure your mother and father don’t mind me being here? I would hate to be an unwelcome guest.”
Chloe gulped, nervous about the lie that was about to come out of her mouth. “No…no…they don’t mind at all. They’re just both very busy people and they apologise that they weren’t able to be here right now to meet you in person.”
Chloe had carefully picked the right time to settle Mr Stink in. She knew Mother was out campaigning for election, and Dad was picking up Annabelle from her sumo-wrestling class.
“Well I would love to meet them both,” said Mr Stink, “and see what people turned out such a wonderfully generous and thoughtful daughter. This will be so much warmer than my bench.”
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