Paddington Here and Now. Michael Bond
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The policeman shook his head. “No, thank you,” he groaned, as he removed the handcuffs. “It’s my first week on duty. They told me I might have some difficult customers to deal with, but I didn’t think it would start quite so soon…”
“I can come back later if you like,” said Paddington hopefully.
“I’d much rather you didn’t…” began the 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… Fits the description I was given over the phone… You must be the young gentleman 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 colour 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 safe keeping 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 their elevenses 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 dare say 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, I would 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’.”
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