Grandpa’s Great Escape. David Walliams

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СКАЧАТЬ a big, burly man with a skinhead and a tattoo of a spider’s web on his neck spoke up. “Shall I fetch your air rifle, Reverend? A few shots should scare him down in no time!”

      His fellow gravediggers snickered at the thought.

      Air rifle! The boy needed to think fast if his grandfather was going to make it down to earth safely. “No! Let me try!” Jack had an idea. “This is base, over?” he called up.

      All the grown-ups looked at him in disbelief.

“Wing Commander Bunting reading you loud and clear,” replied Grandpa. “Current cruising altitude is 2,000 feet, ground speed of 320 miles per hour. Have been circling all night but no sign of enemy aircraft, over.”

      “Then your mission is accomplished, sir, return to base, over,” said Jack.

      “Roger that!”

      From the foot of the church the group below looked up in incredulity as the old man – still sat on the church spire – made an imaginary landing. Grandpa was completely convinced he was behind the controls of his fighter plane; he even mimed turning the engine off. Next he slid open the invisible canopy, and climbed out.

      Dad closed his eyes. He was so scared his father was going to fall, he couldn’t watch a moment longer. Jack’s eyes were wide open in terror. He didn’t dare blink.

The old man clambered down the spire on to the roof. For a moment he stood still on the narrow peak, then without a care in the world he walked along it. But the piece of lead he had dislodged on his way up had left a dent in the roof so after just a few paces…

      …Grandpa went flying through the air.

“Nooo!” cried Jack.

      “DAD!” shouted Dad.

      “ARGH!” screamed Mum. The vicar and gravediggers looked on with grim fascination.

      The old man slid down the roof, dislodging some more of the vicar’s precious lead tiles along the way.

      SMASH! SMASH!

      As they crashed on the ground, Grandpa hurtled over the roof edge.

      But at that moment, without making a fuss, the old man managed to grab on to the guttering and came to a stop. His thin legs swayed in the night air, his slippers bumping against the stained-glass window of the church.

“Careful of MY window!” shouted the vicar.

      “Hold on, Dad!” called out Jack’s father.

      “I told you we should have called the police,” added Mum unhelpfully.

      “I have a christening at the church first thing tomorrow!” exclaimed Reverend Hogg. “We can’t be scrubbing bits of your grandfather off the ground all morning!”

      “Dad? DAD?” called out Jack’s father.

      Jack thought for a moment. If he didn’t act fast, his poor grandpa was sure to plummet to his death.

      “He won’t respond to being called that,” said the boy. “Let me.” Jack then projected his voice once more. “Wing Commander? This is Squadron Leader!”

“Ah, there you are, old boy!” Grandpa called down from the guttering. Jack’s pretend name had now become real to the old man. Grandpa believed the boy was a fellow airman.

      “Just make your way along the aircraft’s wing to your right,” called up Jack.

      Grandpa paused for a moment, before answering, “Roger that.” A moment later he started shimmying his hands along the guttering.

Jack’s approach was utterly unexpected. Yet it worked. You had to enter Grandpa’s world if you wanted to get through to him.

      Jack spotted a drainpipe running down the side of the church. “Now, Wing Commander, you see that pole to your right?” shouted the boy.

      “Yes, Squadron Leader.”

      “Hold on tight and slowly slide down it, sir.”

      Both Mum and Dad gasped and covered their mouths as Grandpa swung like an acrobat from the guttering to the pipe. For a moment all was still as he held on tight at the top. However, his weight must have been too much for the pipe. Suddenly it came loose from the wall and started rapidly bending downwards.

      CREAK went the pipe.

      Had Jack said the wrong thing? Was he now sending his beloved grandfather hurtling towards the ground?

      “NOOOOOOO!” cried the boy.

6

      A Runaway Bulldozer

      To Jack’s relief, instead of snapping, the church drainpipe bent down slowly under the old man’s weight.

Eventually, it placed him safely on the ground.

      As soon as his slippers touched the wet grass of the graveyard, Grandpa marched over to the assembled group and gave them a salute. “Fall out, men.”

      Mum looked more than a little offended.

      “Wing Commander?” said the boy. “Please let me escort you to your car. We’ll drive you back to your quarters shortly.”

      “Jolly good show, old boy,” replied Grandpa.

      Jack took him by the arm and led him to the family’s rusty old car. As he opened the door, the handle came clean off. He put his grandfather safely in the back seat and closed the door once more so the old man could get warm on this chilly winter night.

      As he ran back across the graveyard, Jack heard Reverend Hogg saying to his parents, “That man isn’t all there! He needs to be locked up…”

      “He is fine, thank you very much!” said Jack, jumping in on the conversation.

The vicar looked down at the boy and smiled, baring his teeth like a shark before it takes a bite. Jack watched as a thought seemed to cross the man’s mind. Suddenly the vicar’s tone of voice completely changed. “Mr and Mrs…?” he began again, now sounding kind and caring.

      “Bunting,” replied СКАЧАТЬ