Nathalia Buttface and the Most Epically Embarrassing Trip Ever. Nigel Smith

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      Dad had also discovered that if you gave Darius enough fizzy orange pop he worked twice as quickly, but interestingly, Mum got even madder when he told her that.

      Nat watched through her fingers as the rude gnome went whistling past Dad’s left ear and took out Mister Sponge who was peeping over the privet. He went down like a sack of bricks, but whatever he shouted was lost as the van roared to life, sounding louder and healthier than ever. Darius, face covered in oil, gave them a thumbs up and a huge smile from the driver’s seat.

      “Darius, right, get out of that seat, shut the bonnet, get in the back, quick,” shouted Dad, slamming the door. “Bye, love, sorry, have to dash, love you, gotta catch the ferry, bye!” And they were off, scattering the neighbours as they went.

      By the time they got to the kennels, the Dog had licked all the oil off Darius and Dad noticed he had a lot of texts from Mum on his mobile. He wouldn’t let Nat see them, but she did manage to glimpse a few of the words. One or two were completely new to her. She made a mental note to ask Darius about them when Dad wasn’t listening.

      They were now in the leafy bit of town where the kennels were. It was the bit of town that pretended to be countryside, even though there was now a massive busy road going right through it, and a kebab shop and off-licence on almost every corner.

      Soon they turned down a driveway with a big sign saying ‘Pawlty Towers’. Mournful howling resounded from behind large dark hedges. The woman who came to meet them at the front gate was middle-aged and built like a huge Saint Bernard dog. Nat sniggered when she said her name was Bernadette. The lady shot her a stern glance.

      Bernadette wore a quilted green jacket and horse-riding trousers, even though Nat couldn’t see a horse anywhere. She took one look at Nat’s miserable dog – who was being carried out of the van, bundled up in the bed sheets like a pile of wet washing – and turned up her nose.

      “Well, we usually only take pedigrees,” she said. “On the phone you said he was a pedigree.” Nat looked at Dad. Here we go again, she thought. Dad would say anything to try and get his own way.

      “Did I?” he remarked innocently. “I think I said there was some pedigree IN him. Would you not call him a pedigree then?”

      “No, this is what we in the dog business call a mutt,” said Bernadette. She was going to say a lot more but just then Dad hoisted the Dog higher and she suddenly got an eyeful of the shorts. “Oh my goodness,” she muttered. “Oh dear me.” She went red and quickly turned round. “Yes, well, there is one space. I’ll lead the way. DO NOT walk in front of me.”

      As they trudged up the gravel path, past the cages full of dogs, all now barking like mad, Nat whispered to Darius: “Right, remember what we planned.” Darius looked blank. “The plan,” said Nat. “My plan to rescue the Dog. The plan I planned. It’s all planned. I told you the—”

      “Nah, I’ve got a better plan, Buttface,” interrupted Darius, hopping over cracks in the pavement.

      Nat fumed. “You have NOT got a plan!” she hissed. “You never have a plan. You just do the first thing that comes into your head. That’s why you get on with Dad. He’s the same. A big chimp, like you.”

      She did an impression of Dad crossed with a monkey: “Oh look, a banana, think I’ll eat it. Oh no, now here’s a coconut, yum yum, ooh and now there’s a tyre, I’ll swing on that. Now, what was I doing with that banana? No idea, because I’m a chimp, ooh ooh.”

      “Is that girl all right in the head?” said Bernadette. “Can you get her to stop making animal noises? She’s upsetting the dogs.”

      “Just do the plan, chimpy,” said Nat. “MY plan.”

      Nat’s plan was really complicated. She’d not had a lot of time to think about it. If she’d have had MORE time maybe she’d have made it simpler, but either way, this was Nat’s plan:

       They get to the kennel door.

       Darius pretends to have a terrible sudden illness, involving general agonised thrashing about and foaming at the mouth (Darius liked this bit).

       While everyone’s looking after Darius, Nat steals the keys to the kennels.

       Nat finds a dog that looks just like her dog, and frees it.

       Nat gives Darius a secret signal to stop thrashing/foaming.

       They give the lookalike dog to the kennel lady, who locks it up.

       They hide Nat’s dog under the blanket and escape with him back to the car.

      But when they got to the cage, Darius refused to pretend to be ill, no matter how hard Nat pinched him. The kennel lady unlocked the door. The Dog whimpered and jumped into Darius’s arms. Still Darius just stood there. Finally, in desperation, Nat threw herself on the ground and began shouting:

      “Oh the pain, the pain. It’s at the very least rabies. Help.”

      To her fury, everyone ignored her. Dad was filling out a form and Bernadette had already decided Nat was a silly little thing and best ignored. It was hopeless. Nat really DID feel like thrashing about, but in frustration. This is all Bagley’s fault, she thought. He’s ruined my perfect plan.

      Then Darius did something strange. He threw the keys to the Atomic Dustbin on the path just behind Dad. “You’ve dropped the keys,” he said.

      “Thanks,” said Dad, bending right over to pick them up. Bernadette made a strangled sort of being-sick noise and turned her back to them, sharpish.

      At that moment, Darius shoved the Dog’s empty bed sheets into the cage and thrust the actual Dog at Nat, whispering: “Hide him.”

      Inside the cage all you could see was the bundle of washing. As far as anyone could tell, the Dog could still have been wrapped up in it. He wasn’t, of course; because by now Nat was stuffing him under the table in the van and giving him one of Dad’s socks to chew quietly.

      By the time Dad had straightened up again and Bernadette had opened her eyes, she had had quite enough of this weird family and quickly finished off the paperwork, locking the cage door without really looking and shooing them all off her property.

      Nat was in the back of the van when Dad and Darius returned. “Sorry, love,” said Dad. “It’s for the best.”

      Nat nodded. Under the table, covered in tea towels, was the Dog. He probably nodded too.

      Nat didn’t speak to Darius again until it was dark and they were nearly at the ferry terminal. “Anyway, well done. My plan was better, though …” she finally muttered.

      Darius didn’t say anything because he was trying to stretch a bogey longer than anyone had ever stretched a bogey before. The Dog didn’t say anything because he was rather hoping to eat the bogey.

      “You just got lucky,” Nat went on. “Even my dad’s plans are better than yours and he’s a moron.”

      At that moment Dad slammed on the handbrake. He turned round. “Probably should have thought of this before,” he said, СКАЧАТЬ