car!
Swimming costume
Beach towel
Slippers
He was pretty sure he couldn’t afford a holiday, unless his mum wanted a bus ride to Winklesea. They hadn’t gone away this summer because his parents had been busy running the beach cafe, which Dad had bought after selling one of his inventions. Originally it was called The Toast Cafe, but then Sam and Oscar had the genius idea of turning it into The Waggy Dog Cafe – the only cafe in Little Bunting to welcome dogs.
Oscar barked loudly, interrupting his thoughts. Usually this meant someone was coming and a few seconds later the doorbell rang.
It was Mr Trusscot, their busybody neighbour, who was known in Sam’s family as Mr Fusspot. As leader of the town council, Trusscot had once tried to turn most of the town into a dog-free zone, so he and Oscar were old enemies.
‘Mr Trusscot, how nice to see you,’ lied Dad.
Trusscot nodded to them. As usual, he was wearing his brown tweedy suit with a checked bow tie. Sam thought he’d probably been born wearing a suit. Oscar eyed him suspiciously.
‘I imagine you’ve heard the news,’ said Trusscot. ‘We’re getting a new neighbour.’
‘So I gather,’ said Dad. ‘I expect you’re going to tell me who it is.’
‘As a matter of fact I can,’ replied Trusscot, smugly. ‘It’s Mrs Bentley-Wallop.’
‘Mrs WALLOP?’ giggled Sam.
‘Bentley-Wallop,’ said Mr Trusscot. ‘And I fail to see what’s funny about it. Perhaps you’ve heard the name?’
‘I haven’t,’ replied Dad. ‘I think I’d remember a name like that.’
‘Well from what I hear she’s from a wealthy family and she’s very well connected,’ said Trusscot. ‘She’s just the sort of person we need to improve this neighbourhood.’
Sam and Dad exchanged looks. Mr Trusscot was always talking about improving the neighbourhood. He complained that the Shillings’ doorbell played ‘Jingle Bells’ and their garden was a disgrace, littered with batteries and bike parts for Mr Shilling’s inventions.
‘In any case, she’s arriving this morning so you might want to tidy up,’ said Trusscot.
‘Why? Is there going to be an inspection?’ asked Dad.
‘I suppose that’s one of your jokes,’ said Mr Trusscot, frostily. ‘I’m sure we all want to make a good impression on Mrs Bentley-Wallop. I for one am very much looking forward to meeting her.’
‘Good, then I won’t keep you,’ said Dad.
‘Oh, and one more thing,’ said Trusscot. ‘You’d better keep your filthy dog away from her.’
Oscar bristled.
‘He’s not filthy,’ said Sam, crossly. ‘He had a bath last week and, anyway, he wouldn’t hurt a fly.’
‘Well I don’t want him upsetting Mrs Bentley-Wallop,’ said Trusscot. ‘My advice is to keep him indoors where he can’t do any harm.’
Oscar took a step forward and proceeded to give Mr Trusscot’s hand a thorough licking. He knew very well this would annoy him. Trusscot hated dogs and he didn’t want any of their slobbery germs. He pulled his hand away.
‘He’s only trying to be friendly,’ said Sam.
‘Well I’d rather he didn’t,’ snapped Trusscot, wiping his hand on a hanky.
‘Anyway, thank you for calling by and if we ever need your advice we’ll be sure to ask,’ said Dad. He closed the door and rolled his eyes at Sam.
‘Nincompoop!’ he said and marched back to the kitchen.
Sam waited till he was gone and looked at Oscar.
‘Uh oh.’
‘If he thinks I’m staying indoors to please him, he can forget it!’ said Oscar.
‘It’s only old Fusspants, ignore him,’ said Sam. ‘Anyway maybe Mrs Thingy Wallop likes dogs.’
‘Who doesn’t?’ asked Oscar.
‘Mr Fusspot for one,’ said Sam. ‘But I saw a pet basket, so maybe she’s got a dog herself. We should go next door and find out.’
‘All right, as long as it’s not a poodle,’ said Oscar. ‘They never stop yapping.’
Sam looked round as his Dad reappeared, heading upstairs.
‘Who are you talking to?’ he asked.
‘No one,’ said Sam. ‘Just, you know – Oscar.’
Dad sighed and shook his head.
‘How many times? He’s a dog, Sam. He doesn’t understand a word you’re saying!’
Sam had first discovered that Oscar could speak the day after he’d arrived on a number 9 bus. His very first words were: ‘I’m not an idiot, you know.’ Actually, those were his second words because on the first evening he’d murmured ‘Goodnight,’ just as Sam was about to go to sleep. Sam hadn’t believed his ears that time, but by now he was used to the fact that Oscar could hold a conversation. It was a secret known only to the two of them. Sam hadn’t told his parents or even his best friend Louie, although sometimes he wondered if Louie suspected. Next door the removal men trooped in and out as the morning wore on, carrying carpets and items of furniture. Sam saw white rugs, table lamps and even a couple of statues that had forgotten to get dressed.
Eventually a car drew up and Mrs Bentley-Wallop herself got out. Sam had to admit she was more interesting than Mr Trusscot who was about as glamorous as a cardigan. Mrs Bentley-Wallop had thick blonde curls, bright red lipstick and a double chin. She wore a long, grey, fur-trimmed coat. Sam thought she looked like a film star – although obviously quite an old one.
Back inside, he told his mum about their new neighbour.
‘Bigley-Wallop? Are you sure that’s her name?’ asked Mum.
‘Bigley or Bottomly, I don’t remember,’ said Sam. ‘But Mr Trusscot says we ought to keep Oscar indoors so we don’t upset her.’
‘Mr Trusscot
