Polly Brown Page 6

  Today, as Polly entered the study, she fervently prayed that it would be someone else’s turn to be in the hot seat, though she really hoped with all her heart that it would be neither James’s nor Thomas’s turn to be severely admonished. They too had received more than their fair share of similar punishments, particularly Thomas, who appeared to be struggling to survive in the home and was falling sicker by the day.

  Chapter 5

  THE MOLE CRISIS

  ONCE ALL THE children were settled down and sitting cross-legged on the floor, the room fell silent, and nobody dared to even twitch. Uncle Boritz sat behind his vast office desk, which was still piled high with very important letters stacked up against the old typewriter. He appeared to be in no hurry to get the meeting underway and continued to read his newspaper, something Polly found quite unnerving. Eventually Aunt Mildred entered the room, and after closing the study door, she marched like a colonel in chief across the floor before going behind the desk and pulling up a chair beside him. Out came the handkerchief in anticipation that it would be needed. It always was!

  Finally, Uncle Boritz looked down and patted Pitstop on the head before folding away his newspaper and standing up to address all present.

  “I believe we are all here,” he said, scanning his audience of wide-eyed children through the thick lenses of his spectacles, which were perched very precariously on the tip of his nose. “Good, then we will begin.” He took the opportunity to take a deep breath.

  “Once again, I find myself in the most unpleasant situation of having to break some very bad news to you all: we have a mole in the house!”

  The children all gasped in sheer horror. “Ugh, a mole!” shrieked one of the children. “Yes, that’s precisely what I said,” Uncle Boritz sternly remarked over his thick-rimmed glasses.

  “Can’t we just call in the exterminator?” Oliver Beswick, one of the children, dared to ask, feeling very pleased to have had a thought, let alone the courage to express it!

  “Yes, I think Oliver’s suggestion is a good one,” Tommy Pulley-blank piped up.

  “Can we keep it as a pet?” pleaded Maisie Madgewick, one of the youngest girls present. “It would be so nice to have a pet. Please don’t kill it. Tell me you won’t.” She then started to cry at the thought of the dear little defenseless mole with its little wet nose mercilessly being killed.

  “Silence!” ordered Uncle Boritz, at the same time furrowing his brow as he peered down at them over his thick black spectacles. “You all know by now I will not tolerate being interrupted!”

  He paused as if deep in thought, then continued, hands firmly clasped behind his back as he paced up and down the line of children seated on the floor.

  “I am not talking about a mole as in an animal, but rather other vermin,” he said in a tone that portrayed nothing short of utter contempt. “Yes, we are dealing with a traitor, or should I say fifth columnist?”

  “What’s a fifth columnist?” Eleanor Apecot asked, pulling a rather perplexed face. None of the other children were in any position to help her out, for they were all equally confused.

  “Don’t you idiots know anything?” Tommy Pullyblank sneered rather smugly. “Why, it has something to do with the White House in America. They have loads of columns outside their posh buildings,” he stated, very delighted at his supreme knowledgeable ability.

  “I said silence!” roared Uncle Boritz angrily. “This particular mole is an informant! Yes, someone in our midst has been talking about the very private things that go on in our family life. This viperous little vixen does not care what she tells people. And what’s more, if these lies were to be believed, my little whippersnappers, then it might mean that the wicked, terrible people from the child-care agency would come and drag you from your beds in the middle of the night and you would never be seen again.”

  The air was thick with tension, and one of the little ones started to cry at the thought of these evil, soulless ghouls coming to drag them from their beds in the middle of the night. In seconds, the room was filled with tearful children, terrified for their lives. Uncle Boritz welcomed their tears, for it meant things were truly going as planned. He seized the moment to quickly add, “And yes, both Aunt Mildred as well as my good self would remain deeply brokenhearted for the rest of our lives if, heaven forbid, this were ever to happen. Isn’t that so, Mildred?” he said, giving her a sly kick in order to get the urgently-required, tear-jerking response.

  “Oh yes, yes children, that would be so terrible. And Uncle and I would miss you all so much,” she replied, almost choking on her words.

  Uncle Boritz gave her a little pat on her shoulder. “There, there, my dear. Try hard not to get too upset. So you do understand what I am trying to say here, children, don’t you? This is why it is of the utmost importance to reveal this traitor and punish her for her treachery!”

  “Who is it?” asked Billy Osgood, quite forgetting they were not allowed to interrupt.

  “I think on this occasion, we all know who the culprit is,” Uncle Boritz slyly replied as he moved away from the desk, placing himself only inches away from Polly, who was innocently sitting down on the floor along with all the other children. The children then turned to each other, rather foolishly attempting to try and guess just who the culprit might be!

  Uncle Boritz used this opportunity to move even closer to Polly, placing his right foot down very hard on one of her hands, which were placed on either side of her on the floor. Polly let out a loud squeal.

  “Ah ha! The guilty one has finally owned up,” he announced gleefully. “Yes, once again we find that it is none other than Polly who has shown disloyalty to our close-knit family.”

  It was at this point in the procedure that Aunt Mildred, right on cue, begun to sob uncontrollably into her hanky. Seeing Aunt Mildred so very sad and distressed forced the children to cry even louder. Uncle Boritz was now feeling very pleased with himself. His speech had paid off much, as he had predicted it would. He was now free to use whatever physical force he chose, and no one would think any the worse of him. After all was said and done, Polly had committed the most unforgivable crime, and there was no punishment on this earth that the children would now see as too severe a sentence.

  “Polly, do you have anything to say before sentencing begins?” Uncle Boritz said, staring rather intensely into her eyes. Not only was Polly completely flabbergasted to find herself yet again in the docks, but she also wondered whether there was any point in protesting, for she knew that her protestations would fall on deaf ears. However, she still decided to try.

  “Yes, I do,” Polly replied, much too defiantly for Uncle Boritz’s liking. “I am not entirely certain what I am guilty of.”

  “Ah, the offendant, I mean, the defendant, is a liar too,” he sneered. “You, my girl, were heard talking to one of the homeless men very disparagingly about our yearly entertainment programs, so don’t even try to deny it.”

  “That’s very true,” Polly quite openly and innocently admitted. “But I only told him about a couple of the many events that take place each year. So you’ve no need to worry, for I did leave the worst ones out! Like your famous Halloween parties and…” Before Polly could go into any further detail, she was stopped.

  “Enough!” roared a very crimson-faced Uncle Boritz. “Your own mouth has condemned you. Stand to attention!”

  Before Polly could uncross her legs, he grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and hauled her to her feet.

  “Now, will the plaintiff please step forward,” Uncle Boritz ordered in a suitably stern tone of voice.

  Of course, no one stepped forward, for all in the room were more than a little uncertain as to quite who the plaintiff was! Uncle Boritz stood drumming his fingers on the desktop as he waited for his command to be obeyed. Nobody moved. At that precise moment, the phone rang. As business matters were of the utmost importance to him, he wasted no time in reaching for the phone, and, upon picking up the receiver, he said in a loud and
stern voice, “Hello, this is Boritz of Boritz and Boritz International. How may I help you?”

  Cecil Bogswater took this breathing space as an opportunity to turn to Bertha Banoffee, who just happened to be sitting next to him, and loudly asked, “Hey, isn’t ‘Plaintiff’ that new board game that’s being advertised on the TV?”

  “I don’t think so,” Bertha Banoffee replied before rather thoughtfully adding, “I think I saw an ad that said it had something to do with relieving headaches. Or was it tummy upsets?”

  On hearing their debate, Tommy Pullyblank once again came quickly to the rescue. “Wrong again, both of you! A plaintiff is, in fact, someone who has been upset by someone else and needs help to sort things out, so he goes to the police station to make an official complaint. The policeman, upon realizing the seriousness of the problem, then quickly hurries to the train station and gets on a train bound for London. Once he has arrived at Victoria Station, he then takes a red double-decker bus right up to the gates of Buckingham Palace, for by now he has an urgent appointment with the queen.”

  “Is the bus an open-topped bus?” enquired Bertha Banoffee, “because he might well get a cold if he has no overcoat on.”

  “How would I know?” Tommy Pullyblank answered, most annoyed at being interrupted by thick-as-a-door-plank Bertha with what he considered to be such a ridiculously stupid question.

  “Well, I only asked,” Bertha Banoffee rather sulkily sniffed, “because you never mentioned the policeman putting on his coat, and open-topped buses are only nice to travel on when it’s sunny. So there, fish face,” she said, rather rudely sticking out her tongue to make her point.

  Tommy chose to ignore her insult and continued with his most informative talk. “If the queen believes the crisis is, after all, worthy of her consideration, she would then put on her coat and scarf and walk around to 10 Downing Street to see the prime minister. She would take all her corgis with her, for they need the exercise. Then, having pressed the doorbell, she is left with little choice but to stand in the cold while the prime minister rolls out of bed.”

  “Poor Queen. I wouldn’t like her job,” Bertha thought privately to herself.

  Tommy continued, “After he has put on his underpants and his pin-striped suit, they both stroll back to Buckingham Palace. Once home, the queen goes to the kitchen to put on the kettle before rustling up some cakes in the oven. She’s a very good cook, I’ll have you know. Only when the teapot is empty and the crisis has been thoroughly chewed over does our prime minister order his security men to take him to the airport, where he then boards a plane bound for America.”

  “Does he take the corgis with him?” Bertha Banoffee then dared to ask. “I mean, I’ve always been terribly concerned that those cute pups don’t get out enough. It must be quite awful for them being cooped up in that stuffy palace all day.” Secretly Bertha was more concerned at the thought of little dogs being taken up in a plane and having to wear seat belts.

  “Of course not, stupid,” Tommy Pullyblank retorted, for he was most annoyed at being interrupted by Bertha for a second time.

  “The corgis remain at the palace with the queen. It is only the prime minister who gets on the plane. Over another cup of tea, normally served with muffins on the lawn of the White House, the president and prime minister have to make the decision as to whether to put both our countries on high alert. The whole procedure is very simple. Really, it is!” he said, most persuasively.

  “Ooh!” said Toby Trotter, who just happened to be listening in.

  Both pleased and encouraged by his attentive audience, Tommy finished up by saying with considerable authority, “Yes, this is done so that we can all sleep safe and sound in our beds.”

  “Oh,” said Cecil Bogswater.

  “Gosh,” said Bertha Banoffee. For they were both very impressed indeed.

  Uncle Boritz was still on the phone listening intently to the person speaking on the other end of the line. “Well, Mr. Ribald, I think this calls for you to stand firm and claim caveat emptor.”

  The children looked at each other and shrugged, for none of them understood his fancy talk and assumed it therefore must be Japanese or Swahili! They never studied foreign languages in school, and more to the point none of them wanted to! Ears pricked, they continued to listen in on his most important conversation.

  “Don’t insult me. Of course I know what caveat emptor means, Mr. Ribald,” Uncle Boritz said, raising his voice to express his annoyance at being asked such an absurd question. He was, however, at the same time, quickly opening a legal reference book similar to a dictionary. He flicked through the pages furiously in an attempt to find the correct translation. He then breathed a sigh of relief, for by now, little beads of sweat were trickling down his forehead. “Yes. I can state with exceeding confidence that it means ‘let the buyer beware.’ So as far as I am concerned, this should bring to an end your distasteful dispute with the awful Mrs. Crudite, who, I might add, has never shown as much as a modicum of decency with regard to this whole ghastly affair.”

  He paused to pull a hanky from his trouser pocket before proceeding to wipe away the perspiration that was now pouring profusely down his face. He then stuffed it back into his pocket, deciding at the same time to bring this rather tedious conversation to a swift halt, for his time was very costly. “That’s excellent news, Mr. Ribald. I will pop my bill for services rendered in the post today. I really must go now, as I am in a most important business meeting. So thank you and good day to you, sir.”

  With the conversation brought to a rather abrupt halt, he placed the receiver down heavily and again breathed a sigh of relief. He then bent over the desk to where Aunt Mildred was still seated and proudly said, “I am awfully sorry to have kept you waiting, dearest, but that phone call has just made us a nice packet of money. It is wonderful to make so much of the stuff as a legal adviser, and for doing so little!”

  With that said, he licked his lips like a cat that had just got the cream and turned his focus back to the urgent matter at hand. With the delay over, the children stopped all nonsensical talk and bottom-shuffling and focused their attention back on Uncle Boritz and the current mole crisis.

  “Now, back to business,” he said brightly. For making money always gladdened his otherwise cold, unfeeling heart. Turning towards the children again, he paused for a second and asked. “Well, has the plaintiff come forward?”

  Again there was total silence, something that served to confuse Uncle Boritz even further, for he was not used to being disobeyed. He turned to his desk and picked up his glass of water and took a sip, something he always did when he was trying to contain his anger.

  Bertha Banoffee used this opportunity to further her last conversation with Tommy Pullyblank by asking him whether he believed the queen’s corgis should be allowed to fly first class or business class. Uncle Boritz, having made it to the other side of his desk, was now standing over Aunt Mildred. Bending down, he quietly whispered in her ear, “You, my dear, as well as my good self, are the plaintiff! So it would be very helpful if you would do as I asked and step forward.”

  “Of course, my dear,” she said sweetly, standing up and pushing aside her chair before taking hold of his hand. For she did so want to show herself as an utterly supportive wife, dedicated to all his causes, of which there were so many. She momentarily stood gazing down adoringly at him before making the deepest of sighs. For in truth, she was finding this to be the most trying case.

  “I’m so sorry, dearest. I had no idea that you were referring to me,” she said apologetically before adding that she’d never been one for big words.

  With Aunt Mildred finally at his side, he gave her a little nudge. Aunt Mildred obliged. Out came the hankie again, and with it came loud sobbing. Uncle Boritz now felt satisfied that everything was back on track. Yes, things had looked a bit dodgy for a moment, but he was now finally back in control! Thank goodness! Then suddenly without warning he loudly roared at the top of his lungs, �
��Habeas corpus!” with his mouth opened so wide so that all present could very clearly see his shuddering tonsils. Pitstop, never given to fear, growled and snarled, for he was equally frightened and intimidated.

  “Habeas corpus?” questioned Aunt Mildred, by now most concerned that he had, yet again, clearly forgotten that he was not in the queen’s law courts, but merely in his own rather untidy and very dingy study with the little children acting as jurors. Alas, she felt she had little choice but to intervene once again.

  “My dearest darling,” she said very graciously. “I am so sorry to have to tell you this, but none of us here have the same wonderful intellect as your good self. We are therefore truly struggling to understand one word of what you are saying. And this is making it very difficult to follow any of your orders!” She paused before quickly returning to her seat, very unsure of what would happen next.

  Poor Uncle Boritz was more than a little perplexed by his dear wife’s most ignorant and unexpected outburst. Nevertheless, he decided that he must forgive her lack of intellect on this occasion.

  “I must apologize for my total lack of consideration, sweet pea,” he muttered with mock humility.

  With his apology graciously accepted by a very relieved Aunt Mildred, he then turned again to his captive, if not slightly confused, jurors. At the top of his voice he roared, “‘Let the body be brought before me,’ for that’s what it means. We are here to decide if this girl is of sound mind or, as I suspect, truly insane before I, or rather we, pass judgment on her.”