28 Nasties

Now that the alarm had been raised, the Tower of London was swarming with Beefeaters!

The old soldiers armed with their poles were calling out into the night to each other.

“HALT! WHO GOES THERE?”

“The entrance to the sewers must be somewhere near here!” hissed Ben.

“But where?” replied the Queen, sounding in a fright.

Ben looked down at her feet. She was standing right on top of a drain cover.

“You are a genius!” he exclaimed.

“Is one?”

“Look down!”

“Oh! So one is!”

The pair sank to their knees and began prising the weighty metal disc up with their fingertips. Just as they heard police sirens and the screech of car tyres…

WOOH! WOOH! WOOH! WOOH!

SCREEEEEEEEEECH!

…Ben spluttered, “After you, ma’am!”

The Queen looked down into the dirty, dark hole. “No! No! After you!”

The boy leaped down, then offered up a helping hand to the Queen. Together they slid the drain cover back into place just as they heard someone running over it.

CLOMP! CLOMP! CLOMP!

Now they were in the old sewage pipe that led out from the Tower of London into the River Thames.

“I hope you can swim, Your Majesty!” said Ben, his voice echoing in the stone pipe.

“It’s been a while since one was awarded one’s fifty-metre badge, but one will give it one’s best shot!”

There were all sorts of nasties down there:

And worst of all… thousand-year-old poo!

“One can appreciate why they don’t include the sewer in the tour of the Tower,” remarked the Queen.

“Hold your nose, ma’am!”

“What fun!” said the Queen, pinching her nose and sounding rather silly.

Soon the pair were ankle-deep in brown water.

Then knee-deep.

Then waist-deep.

Then chest-deep.

Then neck-deep.

The pair had reached the end of the sewer. Beyond it was the River Thames.

“Close your eyes and hold your breath!” urged Ben.

“Jolly hockey sticks!”

Holding the Queen’s hand tightly, he plunged into the cold water.

Together they swam underwater until they finally reached the surface of the river.

“AHHH!”

“URGH!”

They both gasped for air as their heads bobbed up and down.

“We made it!” exclaimed Ben.

“And one has never felt more alive!” yelled the Queen.

It was now late at night and the River Thames was free of boats. Except one. A police launch was speeding straight towards them.

ROAR! went the engine.

The boat bounced up and down on the waves as its siren wailed.

BUMF! BUMF! BUMF!

WOOH! WOOH! WOOH! WOOH!

It was going so fast that there was no way Ben and the Queen could escape.

“We’re done for!” he cried.

“Let’s hide underwater!” suggested the Queen.

“The boat might run us over!”

“You’re right! We are done for! Unless…”

“Unless what!”

“Well, one will hide behind you, and you keep your head down.”

“So?”

“They may think you are just some old rubbish floating in the water!”

“They might!”

Actually, it turned out even better than that. When the police launch was almost upon them, one of the officers shouted, “ICEBERG!”

The police on board all screamed.

“ARGH!”

“NOOOO!”

“REMEMBER THE TITANIC!”

“SENIOR OFFICERS FIRST!”

“THERE’S NO LIFEBOAT!”

The launch did a dramatic swerve away from the “iceberg” and sped off the way it had come.

ROAR!

“That was lucky!” remarked the Queen.

“I knew this stupid outfit my mum made would come in useful for something,” said Ben.

Together they swam across the Thames and managed to haul themselves out on the other side. Without a word, they looked back at the Tower of London. The castle was now humming with activity. A police helicopter with a searchlight was whirring overhead.

WHIRR!

More and more police cars were arriving at the scene, sirens blazing.

WOOH! WOOH! WOOH! WOOH!

“Where next?” asked Ben.

“One needs to return to Buckingham Palace,” replied the Queen.

“Why?”

“That is where Tutankhamun’s mask and the World Cup are hidden.”

“Where?”

“Under one’s bed.”

“I never hide things under my bed!” said Ben. “That would be the first place my mum and dad would look!”

“Well, one is the Queen, remember? No one looks under one’s bed without permission.”

“Makes sense. But Buckingham Palace is on the other side of London! How are we going to get there?”

“Do you have any money on you?” enquired the Queen.

“Nope. I didn’t come out with any.”

“One neither. But, then again, one is the Queen! One never does!”

“Even though you are on it!”

“Precisely because one is on it.”

“Have you got a bus pass?”

“No,” replied the Queen. “Although one is old enough for a free one. One has always longed to ride on a bus. Is it as delightful as it looks?”

“No. It’s not delightful at all. It’s a bus!”

“Oh. So one hasn’t missed much?”

“Nothing at all! Let’s start walking.”

“Jolly good! The sooner we start, the sooner we get there!” agreed the Queen.

However, just as they set off, a police car pulled up right in front of them.

WOOH! WOOH! WOOH! WOOH!

SCREECH!

“Fiddlesticks!” said the Queen.