Dirty Bertie, page 3
Pusskins wasn’t meant to go out the front. What if he went missing – or got run over? Mrs Nicely would blame him. Angela would burst into tears, and he could forget about his five pounds.
BEEP! BEEP! The alarm could wait – he had to find that pesky cat. He looked over next-door’s wall. “Pusskins! Puss puss!”
No sign of him. Bertie searched up and down the road.
“Pusskins!”
Nothing. He dashed back to the house.
Pusskins was sitting on the doormat, yawning.
Bertie gave him a look.
BEEP! BEEP!
What was that noise? It sounded like … HELP! – THE BURGLAR ALARM! What was the number? Two … four … umm…? Bertie fumbled in his pocket for the piece of paper and punched in the code. The alarm stopped.
He stood panting for breath. It was a close thing but everything seemed okay. Pusskins slunk past him into the kitchen.
Bertie poured out the Kitty Krunch, then hurried upstairs. Angela’s storybook was still on the bed. Now to make a few small changes…
Bertie broke off. What was that noise? It sounded like it came from downstairs. It was probably only Pusskins. He went back to his story.
SLAM!
Bertie froze. Not even Pusskins could slam a door. Help! There was someone in the house. Bertie gulped. What was the use of a burglar alarm if a burglar could just walk in?
CHAPTER 4
Bertie looked around in panic. If he tried to sneak downstairs the burglar might hear him. If only he had his trusty pirate cutlass. But all Angela had in her room was teddies and cuddly rabbits. He grabbed The Bedtime Book of Fairy Tales, which was the biggest book on the shelf. Voices were coming from downstairs.
“Find anything?”
“No, nothing.”
Bertie broke into a cold sweat. There wasn’t one burglar, but two! Maybe if he kept very quiet the crooks wouldn’t come upstairs.
CLUMP, CLUMP, CLUMP…
Uh oh. Bertie looked round for somewhere to hide. He slipped behind Angela’s bedroom door and held his breath. Footsteps came along the landing.
“You take that one, I’ll check in here.”
CREAK!
The bedroom door swung back, squashing him against the wall. A big man came into the room. Bertie crept out and raised the book above his head…
THWACK!
“OWW!”
The man fell flat on his face. Bertie stared at his uniform.
“You’re the police!” he gasped.
“Of course I’m the police,” said the constable. “Oww! That really hurt!”
A sergeant came rushing in.
“He hit me!” grumbled the constable.
“Don’t be so soft,” said the sergeant. He gripped Bertie’s arm. “Right, young man, you’d better come along with us,” he said sternly.
“What for?” said Bertie.
“For breaking into this house.”
“But I didn’t!”
“You set off the burglar alarm. Didn’t you hear it?” asked the sergeant.
Bertie stared. Mrs Nicely’s words came back to him: the burglar alarm was linked to the police station. He should have turned it off straight away. Now the police thought he was a burglar!
“But I only came to feed the cat!” he protested.
The sergeant laughed. “That’s a good one. So why were you hiding?”
“Because I thought you were burglars!” wailed Bertie.
“Very funny,” said the sergeant. “We’ll talk about this at the station.”
At the station! This is a nightmare, thought Bertie. I’ll be sent to prison! I’ll never see Whiffer again!
The policemen took him downstairs and outside to the police car.
“That’s my house, next door!” cried Bertie.
“Of course it is!” laughed the sergeant, shaking his head.
“No, really, it is!” yelled Bertie. “You can ask my mum!”
The policemen looked at each other. The boy did seem a bit young for a burglar. Maybe it was best to be on the safe side. They rang the doorbell.
Mum came to the door. Her eyes almost popped out of her head when she saw Bertie with two policemen.
“Sorry to bother you, madam. Do you know this boy?” asked the sergeant.
“I should do,” said Mum. “He’s my son. What’s he done now?”
Bertie threw back his head. “NOTHING!” he howled. “THAT’S WHAT I KEEP TELLING THEM!”
It took about half an hour and two cups of tea to explain the whole story. Luckily, the sergeant saw the funny side. He said that in future Bertie should be kept away from burglar alarms. And he better not make a habit of belting policemen over the head.
When they’d gone, Mum rounded on him. “I thought you knew how to work the alarm!” she fumed.
“I did!” said Bertie. “It was Pusskins’s fault. He ran off!”
Mum folded her arms. “Well, I don’t know what Mrs Nicely will say,” she said.
“She doesn’t have to know, does she?” said Bertie.
“No,” said Mum grimly. “Maybe we’ll keep it that way.”
On Sunday the Nicelys returned. Mrs Nicely came round with Angela.
“Thank you so much for feeding Pusskins,” she said. “I hope everything was all right?”
“Um, yes, fine,” mumbled Bertie.
“Good. And no problems with the burglar alarm?”
Bertie looked at Mum.
“No, no problems at all,” she said.
“Marvellous!” said Mrs Nicely. “Well, thank you, Bertie, you’ve been a great help.”
She stuffed something into his hand and went on chatting. Bertie looked. A five-pound note! He could buy hundreds of—
EH? The money was grabbed from his hand.
“I’ll take that, thank you,” said Angela.
“W-what?” said Bertie. “But it’s mine!”
Angela shook her head. “I need a new storybook,” she said. “Someone scribbled in mine.”
“Oh, did they?” said Bertie.
Angela narrowed her eyes. “Don’t be stupid. I know it was you.”
Bertie sighed. He should have seen this coming. “Okay, I’ll make a deal,” he said. “Half each.”
Angela shook her head. “No thanks! I’ll keep it all. Unless you want me to tell my mum.”
Bertie’s shoulders drooped. He knew when he was beaten. In future he was having nothing to do with cats.
“Oh, by the way,” said Angela, on her way out. “I’m starting on a new story. It’s called Bertie Ballerina!”
Collect all the Dirty Bertie books!
Worms!
Fleas!
Pants!
Burp!
Yuck!
Crackers!
Bogeys!
Mud!
Germs!
Loo!
Fetch!
Fangs!
Kiss!
Ouch!
Snow!
Pong!
Pirate!
Scream!
Toothy!
Dinosaur!
Zombie!
Smash!
Rats!
Horror!
Jackpot!
Aliens!
Fame!
My Joke Book
My Book of Stuff
Dirty Bertie Sticker and Activity Book
Dirty Bertie Pant-tastic Sticker and Activity Book
Dirty Bertie Doodle Book
Copyright
STRIPES PUBLISHING
An imprint of Little Tiger Press
1 The Coda Centre, 189 Munster Road,
London SW6 6AW
Characters created by David Roberts
Text copyright © Alan MacDonald, 2013
Illustrations copyright © David Roberts, 2013
First published as an ebook by Stripes Publishing in 2014.
eISBN: 978–1–84715–474–3
The right of Alan MacDonald and David Roberts to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work respectively has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved.
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any forms, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
www.littletiger.co.uk
Alan MacDonald, Dirty Bertie
