‘Well, I’m not having anything to do with it,’ barked Marjorie. She clapped her hands together as if she were brushing off something dirty. ‘Good riddance.’
‘Your mum’s right,’ said Herbert.
‘Your grandma will be awake soon,’ Marjorie added. ‘She’ll want to be entertained and you’ve got it seriously wrong if you’re expecting your father and I to do it alone. We need all the help we can get. Pong is NOT our problem.’
Herbert and Marjorie humphed off to the kitchen to drink tea and feel sorry for themselves. Neville pulled a face as they went. Suddenly he wished it was his mum and dad in a cage at London Zoo.
‘This is dreadly,’ said Clod. ‘Our little Pong is lost again. What are we going to do?’
‘We need a brainy-bonker plan,’ said Malaria.
‘It’s not going to be easy,’ said Neville.
‘Count me out,’ Rubella scoffed, flicking through her Happy Holiday magazine.
‘Belt up, Belly,’ said Clod.
Rubella scowled. This trolliday was turning out to be rubbish.
There was a long silence … a very long silence.
‘Any ideas?’ Neville finally asked.
‘We could … erm … umm,’ said Malaria.
‘How about … ? Well …’ said Clod.
Neville racked his brain. What would Captain Brilliant do at a time like this? How were they going to break Pong out of London Zoo?
‘Umm … Maybe we could try to –’ Neville said, before Rubella suddenly jumped off the sofa and interrupted.
‘I’LL DO IT!’ she yelled.
‘What?’ said Malaria. ‘You feelin’ all right?’
‘I’ve had a change of heart. I couldn’t bear to see my little brother locked away and all alone. Poor little pluglet.’
Neville almost laughed. He didn’t think Rubella even had a heart to change.
‘Let me go to London and get him,’ Rubella begged. ‘I’ll run fast and keep out of sight, honest.’
‘It’s a blunking long way,’ said Clod.
‘I don’t mind,’ said Rubella. ‘Neville can come with me to keep me company. He can ride on my shoulders.’ Then she did the strangest thing Neville had ever seen. Rubella smiled at him.
Something wasn’t right.
‘We’ll need a map,’ said Neville nervously. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what was wrong. ‘There’s one in my dad’s car.’
‘You’re so clever,’ said Rubella. She put a bumpy, turnip-covered arm round Neville. For a horrible moment, he thought he was going mad.
‘Good for you, Belly,’ said Clod with a grin. ‘Whoever knew you could be so teamly.’
‘I know,’ said Rubella and batted her crusty eyelashes.
‘First things first,’ said Malaria. ‘We need to make a distraction so Belly and Nev can get our porklet back without Herburg, Margarine and that oversized squoggle of a grandma knowing. Any ideas, Nev?’
‘Well, Grandma Joan likes to be complimented and she loves posh people,’ said Neville.
‘Hmmmm …’ said Malaria, hatching an idea.
Rubella picked Neville up.
‘Let’s help Mooma and Dooda and then we’ll go find that map,’ she said.
Neville gulped. He hadn’t noticed the rolled-up magazine in her hand that was turned to a page saying, ‘WHY NOT GO FOR A SPIN IN THE COUNTRYSIDE?’