the ghosts!’ announced Derrick.
Boris grabbed Derrick and hugged him again, almost but not quite breaking all his ribs. ‘I admit that my sister’s Easter excesses need to be stopped, but I will absolutely not allow you to jump in front of a bus, just so you can become a ghost and re-enact a parable from nineteenth-century literature.’
‘It’s all right, Boris,’ squeaked Derrick. (It is hard to talk when your diaphragm is being crushed.) ‘I only meant that we should pretend to be ghosts.’
‘Ooooh,’ said Boris. ‘That’s a much better idea.’
When Nanny Piggins went to bed that night she was delirious with excitement. She loved Easter so much. Normally, when she was that excited she could not sleep at all. But on this occasion she had been excited all week, so after five nights of giddy anticipation, Nanny Piggins fell into a deep sleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.
Now at this point I should take a moment to explain Nanny Piggins’ annual bout ofuncharacteristically selfish behaviour. As anybody who has read Nanny Piggins’ adventures knows, she was usually a very generous soul. Even though she loved cake with every fibre of her being, she still, as a point of principle, always, always, always shared. But Easter was her blind spot.
She could not wrap her mind around the concept that a chocolate egg hidden in someone else’s garden, in a street and suburb miles away from her own home, was not put there for her. As far as she was concerned, any chocolate left unattended in an open area was free game. As a result, she always ate dangerous amounts of confectionary on Easter Day. And a lot of children had very sad Easters where they found no eggs, and were left thinking the Easter Bunny had been very cruel in hiding his chocolate eggs in extraordinarily difficult locations. I know it does not sound logical, but in Nanny Piggins’ defence, it is hard to feel logical after you have eaten seven times your own body weight in chocolate.
Now back to the story …
Nanny Piggins had been asleep for some time when the window rattled. (Boris was standing outside on a ladder, pretending to be a spooky wind by shaking the window frame.) Next, a moaning sound came from outside the door. (Michael waspretending to be a ghost by re-enacting the sounds he made after last Easter’s stomach-ache.) Then smoke rolled in under the doorway. (Derrick was pretending to be an eerie fog, by standing outside the door with a pop-up toaster, purposefully burning toast.) Then, among the rattling, moaning and smoke, Samantha made her dramatic entrance.
She was wrapped from head to foot in gold tinsel and wearing Mrs Simpson’s wedding dress. (Mrs Simpson had actually agreed to this, because she was so shocked when they asked. Nanny Piggins usually just took things and gave sorry gifts later.)
‘Whaooooaaaahhhh!’ said Samantha dramatically as she rolled into Nanny Piggins’ bedroom on a skateboard. You could not see the skateboard because the skirt of the wedding dress was so long, it looked like Samantha was floating into the room.
Sadly, this spectacular cacophony of homemade special effects was wasted on Nanny Piggins, who continued to sleep soundly.
‘WwwhhhhaaooohhhhAAAAHHHHH!’ wailed Samantha even more loudly. But her nanny did not stir. ‘She’s not waking up,’ Samantha hissed to Derrick and Michael in the hallway.
‘Try this,’ said Derrick, as he put down his toaster and passed Samantha a chocolate bar.
Samantha leaned forward and held the chocolate bar over the bed, then ever so gently rustled the wrapper.
Nanny Piggins immediately sprang bolt upright. ‘Give me the chocolate!’ she demanded.
Samantha put the chocolate bar back in her pocket. (Surprisingly Mrs Simpson’s wedding dress did have pockets, because Mrs Simpson, or Miss Paraskevopoulos as she was known at the time, knew that speeches at wedding receptions can be very dull so she wanted to have a novel on hand for secretly
Boris grabbed Derrick and hugged him again, almost but not quite breaking all his ribs. ‘I admit that my sister’s Easter excesses need to be stopped, but I will absolutely not allow you to jump in front of a bus, just so you can become a ghost and re-enact a parable from nineteenth-century literature.’
‘It’s all right, Boris,’ squeaked Derrick. (It is hard to talk when your diaphragm is being crushed.) ‘I only meant that we should pretend to be ghosts.’
‘Ooooh,’ said Boris. ‘That’s a much better idea.’
When Nanny Piggins went to bed that night she was delirious with excitement. She loved Easter so much. Normally, when she was that excited she could not sleep at all. But on this occasion she had been excited all week, so after five nights of giddy anticipation, Nanny Piggins fell into a deep sleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.
Now at this point I should take a moment to explain Nanny Piggins’ annual bout ofuncharacteristically selfish behaviour. As anybody who has read Nanny Piggins’ adventures knows, she was usually a very generous soul. Even though she loved cake with every fibre of her being, she still, as a point of principle, always, always, always shared. But Easter was her blind spot.
She could not wrap her mind around the concept that a chocolate egg hidden in someone else’s garden, in a street and suburb miles away from her own home, was not put there for her. As far as she was concerned, any chocolate left unattended in an open area was free game. As a result, she always ate dangerous amounts of confectionary on Easter Day. And a lot of children had very sad Easters where they found no eggs, and were left thinking the Easter Bunny had been very cruel in hiding his chocolate eggs in extraordinarily difficult locations. I know it does not sound logical, but in Nanny Piggins’ defence, it is hard to feel logical after you have eaten seven times your own body weight in chocolate.
Now back to the story …
Nanny Piggins had been asleep for some time when the window rattled. (Boris was standing outside on a ladder, pretending to be a spooky wind by shaking the window frame.) Next, a moaning sound came from outside the door. (Michael waspretending to be a ghost by re-enacting the sounds he made after last Easter’s stomach-ache.) Then smoke rolled in under the doorway. (Derrick was pretending to be an eerie fog, by standing outside the door with a pop-up toaster, purposefully burning toast.) Then, among the rattling, moaning and smoke, Samantha made her dramatic entrance.
She was wrapped from head to foot in gold tinsel and wearing Mrs Simpson’s wedding dress. (Mrs Simpson had actually agreed to this, because she was so shocked when they asked. Nanny Piggins usually just took things and gave sorry gifts later.)
‘Whaooooaaaahhhh!’ said Samantha dramatically as she rolled into Nanny Piggins’ bedroom on a skateboard. You could not see the skateboard because the skirt of the wedding dress was so long, it looked like Samantha was floating into the room.
Sadly, this spectacular cacophony of homemade special effects was wasted on Nanny Piggins, who continued to sleep soundly.
‘WwwhhhhaaooohhhhAAAAHHHHH!’ wailed Samantha even more loudly. But her nanny did not stir. ‘She’s not waking up,’ Samantha hissed to Derrick and Michael in the hallway.
‘Try this,’ said Derrick, as he put down his toaster and passed Samantha a chocolate bar.
Samantha leaned forward and held the chocolate bar over the bed, then ever so gently rustled the wrapper.
Nanny Piggins immediately sprang bolt upright. ‘Give me the chocolate!’ she demanded.
Samantha put the chocolate bar back in her pocket. (Surprisingly Mrs Simpson’s wedding dress did have pockets, because Mrs Simpson, or Miss Paraskevopoulos as she was known at the time, knew that speeches at wedding receptions can be very dull so she wanted to have a novel on hand for secretly
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