Danny The Champion Of The World Part 15

Laid out on my father's bench amid the spanners and wrenches and oily rags were six magnificent pheasants, three c.o.c.ks and three hens.

'There we are, ladies and gentlemen,' said the doctor, his small wrinkled face beaming with delight. 'How's that?'

We were speechless.

'Two for you, Grace, to keep the vicar in a good mood,' Doc Spencer said. 'Two for Enoch for all the fine work he did this morning. And two for William and Danny who deserve them most of all.'

'What about you, Doctor?' my father asked. 'That doesn't leave any for you.'

'My wife has enough to do without plucking pheasants all day long,' he said. 'And anyway, who got them out of the wood in the first place? You and Danny.'

'But how on earth did you you get them?' my father asked him. 'When did you nab them?' get them?' my father asked him. 'When did you nab them?'

'I didn't nab them,' the doctor said. 'I had a hunch.'

'What sort of a hunch?' my father asked.

'It seemed fairly obvious', the doctor said, 'that some some of those pheasants must have gobbled up more than one raisin each. Some, if they were quick enough, might have swallowed half a dozen each, or even more. In which case they would have received a very heavy overdose of sleeping pills and wouldn't of those pheasants must have gobbled up more than one raisin each. Some, if they were quick enough, might have swallowed half a dozen each, or even more. In which case they would have received a very heavy overdose of sleeping pills and wouldn't ever ever wake up.' wake up.'

'Ah-ha!' we cried. 'Of course! Of course!'

'So while you were all so busy driving the birds on to old Hazell's Rolls-Royce, I sneaked in here and had a look under the sheet in the bottom of the pram. And there they were!'

'Hamazin'!' said Sergeant Samways. 'Habsolutely hamazin'!'

'Those were the greedy ones,' the doctor said. 'It never pays to eat more than your fair share.'

'Marvellous!' my father said. 'Well done, sir!'

'Oh, you lovely man!' cried Mrs Clipstone, flinging an arm round the tiny doctor and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

'Now come along,' the doctor said to her. 'I'll drive you home. You can leave this crazy perambulator where it is. And Enoch, we'll take your birds with us and drop them off at your house on the way. We can't have the arm of the law cycling through the village with a brace of pheasants slung over the handle-bars.'

'I am very much hobliged to you, Doctor,' Sergeant Sam ways said. 'I really am.'

My father and I loaded four of the pheasants into the doctor's car. Mrs Clipstone got into the front seat with the baby and the doctor sat himself behind the wheel. 'Don't be sad, William,' he said to my father through the window as he drove off. 'It was a famous victory'

Then Sergeant Samways mounted his bicycle and waved us goodbye and pedalled away down the road in the direction of the village. He pedalled slowly, and there was a certain majesty in the way he held himself, with the head high and the back very straight, as though he were riding a fine thoroughbred mare instead of an old black bike.

22.

My Father It was all over now. My father and I stood alone just outside the workshop and suddenly the old place seemed to become very quiet.

'Well, Danny,' my father said, looking at me with those twinkly eyes of his. 'That's that.'

'It was fun, Dad.'

'I know it was,' he said.

'I really loved it,' I said.

'So did I, Danny'

He placed one hand on my shoulder and we began walking slowly towards the caravan.

'Maybe we should lock the pumps and take a holiday for the rest of the day,' he said.

'You mean not open up at all?'

'Why should we?' he said. 'After all, it's Sat.u.r.day, isn't it?'

'But we always stay open on Sat.u.r.days, Dad. And Sundays.'

'Maybe it's time we didn't,' he said. 'We could do something else instead. Something more interesting.'

I waited, wondering what was coming next.

When we reached the caravan, my father climbed the steps and sat down on the little outside platform. He allowed both his legs, the plaster one and the good one, to dangle over the edge. I climbed up and sat down beside him with my feet on the steps of the ladder.

It was a fine place to sit, the platform of the caravan. It was such a quiet comfortable place to sit and talk and do nothing in pleasant weather. People with houses have a front porch or a terrace instead, with big chairs to lounge in, but I wouldn't have traded either of those for our wooden platform.

'I know a place about three miles away,' my father was saying, 'over Cobblers Hill and down the other side, where there's a small wood of larch trees. It is a very quiet place and the stream runs right through it.'

'The stream?' I said.

He nodded and gave me another of his twinkly looks. 'It's full of trout,' he said.

'Oh, could we could we?' I cried. 'Could we go there, Dad?'

'Why not?' he said. 'We could try tickling them the way Doc Spencer told us.'

'Will you teach me?' I said.

'I haven't had much practice with trout,' he told me. 'Pheasants are more in my line. But we could always learn.'

'Can we go now?' I asked, getting excited all over again.

'I thought we would just pop into the village first and buy the electric oven,' he said. 'You haven't forgotten about the electric oven, have you?'

'But Dad,' I said. 'That was when we thought we were going to have lots and lots of pheasants to roast.'

'We've still got the two the Doc gave us,' he said.

'And with any luck we'll have lots more of them as the weeks go by. It's time we had an oven anyway, then we can roast things properly instead of heating up baked beans in a saucepan. We could have roasted pork one day and then if we felt like it we could have roasted leg of lamb the next time or even roasted beef. Wouldn't you like that?'

'Yes,' I said. 'Of course I would. And Dad, would you be able to make your favourite thing of all?'

'What's that?' he asked.

'Toad-in-the-hole,' I said.

'By golly!' he cried. 'That'll be the very first thing we'll make in our new oven! Toad-in-the-hole! I'll make it in an enormous pan, the same as my old mum, with the Yorkshire pudding very crisp and raised up in huge bubbly mountains and the sausages nestling in between the mountains!'

'Can we get it today, Dad? Will they deliver it at once?'

'They might, Danny. We'll have to see.'

'Couldn't we order it now on the telephone?'

'We mustn't do that,' my father said. 'We must go personally to see Mr Wheeler and we must inspect all the different models with great care.'

'All right,' I said. 'Let's go.' I was really steamed up now about getting an oven and being able to have Toad-in-the-hole and roasted pork and stuff like that. I couldn't wait.

My father got to his feet. 'And when we've done that', he said, 'we'll go off to the stream and see if we can't find us some big rainbow trout. We could take sandwiches with us for lunch and eat them beside the stream. That will make a good day of it.'

A few minutes later, the two of us were walking down the well-known road towards the village to buy the oven. My father's iron foot went clink clink clink clink on the hard surface and overhead some big black thunder-clouds were moving slowly down the valley. on the hard surface and overhead some big black thunder-clouds were moving slowly down the valley.

'Dad,' I said.

'Yes, my love?'

'When we have our roasted pheasant supper with our new oven, do you think we could invite Doctor Spencer and Mrs Spencer to eat it with us?'

'Great heavens!' my father cried. 'What a wonderful thought! What a beautiful idea! We'll give a dinnerparty in their honour!'

'The only thing is,' I said, 'will there be enough room in the caravan for four people?'

'I think so,' he said. 'Just.'

'But we've only got two chairs.'

'That's no problem, Danny. You and I can sit on boxes.' There was a short silence, then he said, 'But I'll tell you what we must have and that's a table-cloth. We can't serve dinner to the doctor and his wife without a table-cloth.'

'But we don't have a table-cloth, Dad.'

'Don't you worry about it,' my father said. 'We can use a sheet from one of the bunks. That's all a tablecloth is, a sort of sheet.'

'What about knives and forks?' I asked.

'How many do we have?'

'Just two knives', I said, 'and two forks. And those are all a bit dented.'

'We shall buy two more of each,' my father said. 'We shall give our guests the new ones and use the old ones ourselves.'

'Good,' I said. 'Lovely.' I reached out and slid my hand into his. He folded his long fingers round my fist and held it tight, and we walked on towards the village where soon the two of us would be inspecting all the different ovens with great care and talking to Mr Wheeler personally about them.

And after that, we would walk home again and make up some sandwiches for our lunch.

And after that we would set off with the sandwiches in our pockets, striding up over Cobblers Hill and down the other side to the small wood of larch trees with the stream running through it.

And after that?

Perhaps a big rainbow trout.

And after that?

There would be something else after that.

And after that?

Ah yes, and something else again.

Because what I am trying to tell you...

What I have been trying so hard to tell you all along is simply that my father, without the slightest doubt, was the most marvellous and exciting father any boy ever had.

Other books by Roald Dahl

THE BFG.

BOY: TALES OF CHILDHOOD.

BOY and and GOING SOLO GOING SOLO CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY.

CHARLIE AND THE GREAT GLa.s.s ELEVATOR.

THE COMPLETE ADVENTURES OF CHARLIE AND MR w.i.l.l.y WONKA.

DANNY THE CHAMPION OF THE WORLD.

GEORGE'S MARVELLOUS MEDICINE GOING SOLO.

JAMES AND THE GIANT PEACH.

MATILDA.