Granny Pegg's Great Chase&Granny Grinalot's Day in the Desert Read online



  Granny Pegg's Great Chase

  and

  Granny Grinalot’s Day In The Desert

  by Linda Talbot

  Illustrations for Granny Pegg by Kathy Beaumont

  Hand Coloured by Linda Talbot

  Copyright Linda Talbot 2013

  Thank you for downloading this free eBook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form.

  Contact blog: https://lindajtalbot.wordpress.com

  Table of Contents and Illustrations

  Granny Pegg's Great Chase

  Granny Pegg rolls pastry

  Beating time to the band

  Wooden leg stops a thief

  Thief tries to escape

  Granny's catapult catches the thief

  Granny rewarded

  Granny Grinalot's Day In The Desert

  End Grannies

  Author's Note

  Granny Pegg's Great Chase

  Granny Pegg did not always have one leg. There was a time when she had two like the rest of us, clad in stout brown stockings and capable of walking almost anywhere.

  Then one afternoon, she foolishly visited the zoo at feeding time and a hungry crocodile thrust his jaws through the railings and before you could say tea time, had snapped off Granny's left leg.

  At the hospital she was given a fine new wooden one; shaped, polished and even more useful than the one she had before.

  "I wouldn't be without it," says Granny Pegg now to her seven grandchildren who have carefully carved their initials down one side of the wooden leg.

  Each night Granny Pegg takes it off before getting into bed and stands it by the window. Sometimes she takes it off during the day too, when rolling pastry for an apple pie, digging holes in the garden for cabbages and carrots or for beating time to the brass band in the park.

  Granny Pegg using her wooden leg to roll pastry

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  Granny Pegg beating time to the band with her wooden leg

  BACK TO THE START!

  The leg is hollow and very useful for storing loose change. So sometimes Granny Pegg rattles as she walks. But she is nearly ninety and growing forgetful. She keeps more and more bits and pieces in the wooden leg so she knows exactly where they are; a penknife, a large lace handkerchief and a long piece of string.

  "Be prepared!" is Granny Pegg's motto.

  Every Tuesday she goes shopping. Rattle and clump along the pavement to Mr. Sniggers' grocery shop on the corner. One Tuesday she arrives to find Mr. Sniggers shouting from inside the shop.

  "HELP, HELP - STOP THIEF!"

  Granny Pegg stops and peers between boxes of soap powder and instant soup. At the end of the shop, scooping tea bags, chocolate biscuits and butter into a big sack, is a hunched figure in a brown mackintosh and a battered hat.

  The wooden leg is used to stop a thief in Mr Sniggers' shop

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  "That's the thief!" mutters Granny Pegg, "He must be stopped!"

  Pushing past Mr. Sniggers, she strides towards the thief, unscrews her wooden leg and hits him hard on the head. In a cascade of tea bags, biscuits and butter, he crumples onto the floor, his battered hat bouncing into a box of cornflakes. Granny Pegg empties her wooden leg. She knots the lace handkerchief tightly round his mouth so he cannot bite. With the piece of string she quickly ties his wrists and with the penknife held high, balances grandly on one leg above him. He looks at her, unbelieving, with bulging brown eyes.

  But as Granny Pegg bends to pick up her wooden leg, the thief leaps to his feet and, scattering tins of pineapple chunks, bolts through the door and into the street.

  The thief tries to escape through the market

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  Granny Pegg screws on her leg as Mr. Sniggers gives chase. The thief, his mackintosh flapping and his hands still tied behind his back, is racing round the corner.

  Granny Pegg follows Mr. Sniggers. "I need a pair of roller skates," she observes and makes a mental note to ask her grandchildren for some at Christmas.

  Round the corner she clumps to see the thief sprawled on the pavement after tripping over the soles of his worn out shoes, flopping from his feet like fish out of water. But he slips his hands out of Granny Pegg's string and struggles up.

  Two constables with handcuffs jump from a black car and join the chase, overtaking Granny Pegg, who is puffing, clumping and muttering about making haste.

  The thief runs into the market, scattering eggs, apples and tomatoes. Angry market men shout at him, then run after Mr. Sniggers and the two constables.

  A sour-faced woman selling blankets throws one, with stripes of red, yellow and blue, over the thief's head and he falls over a bucket of new mops that bounce and scatter among the stalls.

  The thief pulls the blanket off and throws it at the nearest constable, who trips over. The second constable falls over him; Mr Sniggers lands on top of the second constable and the market men collapse in a flurry of white coats at the back.

  "I'll take a short cut," decides Granny Pegg, summing up the situation. She stumps up a side street, puffing but pleased with her idea and reaches the other end, just as the thief, the lace handkerchief still round his mouth, stumbles into sight among the stalls.

  "Aha!" says Granny Pegg. She pulls down her big pink bloomers and with her penknife cuts out the elastic from the top. Then she unscrews her wooden leg and ties the elastic to each end. She grabs a potato from the nearest stall, puts it inside the elastic and stretches it with all her might, like a catapult. Off shoots the potato, hitting the thief - THUD - between the eyes.

  Granny Pegg uses her wooden leg as a catapult to catch the thief

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  He collapses like a big brown bird inside the crumpled mackintosh, bits of lace fluttering like head feathers from above the collar.

  "Hurray for Granny Pegg!" cheers Mr. Sniggers and the market men join in, tossing apples and tomatoes high into the air. The two constables clap the thief in handcuffs and lead him away.

  Granny Pegg screws on her wooden leg and rolls her pink bloomers under her arm, grateful that the wind has dropped, so it will not be too draughty walking home.

  A week later the two constables give Granny Pegg a big brass medal for her brave work. She proudly wears it pinned to her pale blue cardigan and takes it off only to show her seven grandchildren. But it is still her wooden leg they come to see.

  Granny Pegg is rewarded for her good work

  "May we borrow your leg to play shops and robbers?" asks Dennis, one grandchild, on a dull Saturday afternoon in December.

  "No, my dear," replies Granny Pegg sweetly, "Be prepared is my motto and who knows, I may need my wooden leg again quite soon."

  BACK TO THE START!

  Granny Grinalot’s Day In The Desert

  Granny Grinalot with Prattle the parrot, Snoots the camel and Kenneth the cat.

  Granny Grinalot looms from behind the old brown chest. To Kenneth, the white cat sitting in the worn leather chair, she looks enormous because that is how humans look to small animals.

  Prattle the parrot, perched on her shoulder, looks pretty big too because he is so important. He goes everywhere with Granny. All day he talks rubbish, most of it said first by Granny.

  Granny loves animals. She has a picture of Bovis, the black dog that died of fright when the postman bit him. She had him painted in a gentleman’s jacket. Even the white hat she always wears is made from
Miranda, the cat run over by grandpa on his bicycle.

  One day a young woman from the local newspaper calls to ask Granny about her animals. “Oh, I’ve kept them all, from dormice and sloths to bandicoots.”

  “Is there an animal you haven’t kept but would like to?” asks the young woman, pen poised above her notepad.

  “Yes. A camel,” replies Granny Grinalot without hesitation.

  The young woman winces, then says, “Perhaps you could at least visit one at the zoo.”

  “Now that’s an idea!” says Granny, stroking Prattle’s grey feathers that need a wash.

  So next day Granny Grinalot gives Prattle a bath, then sets off to the zoo.

  “Have you any camels?” she asks.

  “Have you any camels?” repeats Prattle.

  “Yes. We have Snoots. Would you like to see him?” replies a young woman in a sun hat and dark glasses. Granny follows her and there in a yard stands a big brown camel wearing a stripy rug. On his halter shines a jewel with a brown tassel and a small gold sunshade has been fastened to the top of his head. Well it is a hot day.

  “Can I have a ride?” asks Granny Grinalot. The young woman looks surprised, then says, “I don’t see why not. Does the parrot want one too?”

  “Want one too, want one too!” mimics Prattle.

  “Of course. Where I go, he goes,” says Granny indignantly.

  The young woman finds a stone block that Granny can stand on. Granny throws one leg over the blanket and with Prattle grumbling with the sudden lurching, hauls herself up onto the camel’s back.

  “What a view!” she exclaims, gazing over the monkey house at a factory chimney.

  “Phew!” says Prattle, not quite catching on.

  Slowly they lumber round the yard. The sun beats down. Snoots shakes his head, trying to throw off the sunshade. Prattle mutters about madness and hot sun.

  Suddenly they are in a desert of gold and red sand with the sun shining even hotter from a sky white with its heat. Flies buzz. Snoots shakes his head in disgust and at last the sunshade falls off. Alarmed, Prattle digs his claws into Granny’s shoulder. But Granny is delighted.

  “A desert!” she cries, unnecessarily. “I’m riding a camel in the desert!”

  Prattle does not even bother to imitate her. Now she has gone too far. But on they plod, Snoots dragging his big feet, although they are made for deep sand. But he was brought up in the zoo and it is near feeding time.

  Granny Grinalot begins to sing:

  “Oh ship of the desert, ship of the sand,

  How did I come to this wonderful land?”

  There is no reply from Snoots or Prattle. They want to go home.

  Suddenly a swirl of dust surrounds them; teasing and leaping on a wind that grows stronger and stronger, with more dust whistling towards them in a great yellow cloud.

  Granny takes off her glasses, wipes them and puts them back on. But she can see nothing, her eyes full of flying sand. Snoots stands stock still. Prattle buries his beak in Granny’s shoulder.

  Snoots decides to plod on in case the zoo should be nearby but at last he can go no further. He kneels in the churning sand and groans. It is way past his tea time. Prattle nibbles Granny’s jumper and even Granny wants a cup of tea.

  But the next minute as an extra strong gust of wind whips round them, Prattle is blown off Granny’s jumper. Even his claws are not strong enough to hold him. She sees him hurtling away, head over tail feathers; light as a puff ball, until he is swallowed by the blowing sand.

  Then it begins to clear and as Granny peers into the distance, calling, “Prattle, Prattle, come back!” she sees an enormous white tea cup and saucer hovering on the horizon.

  “Look!” she cries. Neither Snoots nor Prattle wants a cup of tea, but the camel begins to plod towards it. As they come close however, the cup and saucer vanish, sucked into the dusty air.

  Granny is disappointed. It was a mirage - one of the things you want very much, so you imagine it, only to find it does not exist. She slumps on the stripy blanket, now full of sand grains which itch as Snoots plods on.

  She closes her eyes when she sees the next mirage; a young woman in a shiny red dress, wearing a crown of jewels on her spiky black hair. The desert behind her has vanished, replaced by a purple and green oasis which to Granny looks rather like Regent’s Park.

  Then she realises the girl and the oasis are real. Even Snoots thinks he might be on the way home. They reach the strange girl who has bare brown feet.

  “Hello. We’re lost. Can you tell us how to get back to London - and have you seen a grey parrot with an orange tail?”

  “No to both!” replies the girl.

  ‘What’s your name?” asks Granny, bending from the blanket as low as her old bones will allow.

  “Dilys. They think I’m a dotty demon haunting this desert. But I was left behind when I went to stretch my legs and my friends drove off in the truck without me.”

  “Where did you get those wonderful jewels?” asks Granny enviously, thinking of her imitation pearls at home.

  “I stole them from a sheikh - crept into his tent while he was asleep. They do seem to work some sort of magic. But I must be careful not to bump into him. He must wonder where they went. Why are we looking for a parrot?”

  “He’s mine. He’s called Prattle. The sand storm blew him away.”

  Dilys takes off the jewels, closes her eyes and carefully feeling each stone, mutters “Where are the nomads?”

  The jewels glitter, casting a bright beam eastwards. Dilys opens her eyes, puts the jewels back on her head and says, “Well we could try walking east. The nomads should be camped in that direction. They are good at catching birds. They might have found him.” She does not add they would be planning how to cook him for supper.

  “All right. Let’s go!” says Granny, missing her afternoon nap now and thinking again about a cup of tea.

  Dilys scrambles up behind Granny and reluctantly Snoots presses on, his brown tassel thick with sand and his belly growling with hunger. They walk for two hours. Then, as dusk begins to fall, they see a group of dirty brown tents, pitched round a leaping fire.

  “Nomads!” declares Dilys. “They look like those travelling with the Sheikh. I must leave you. He will want his jewels back.”

  She jumps from the camel and vanishes as mysteriously as she had appeared, as though sucked into the darkening air.

  Granny peers at the tents and urges Snoots on. He smells dinner so quickens his pace. As they reach the first tent, Granny sees a cage hanging from the flap. And inside, to her relief, Prattle the parrot. He droops on the wooden perch.

  “Hey, Prattle!” calls Granny and the camel snorts. The parrot looks up and fixes Granny with an angry eye as though to say, “You took your time!”

  Granny sees figures round the fire and fear suddenly replacing the anger in Prattle’s beady eye. Then she realises, they intend to cook him and he knows.

  Snoots knows too and before Granny can think of sliding from his back to rescue Prattle, he has pushed out his long nose and unhooked the cage door.

  Out flies Prattle to settle on Granny’s shoulder. Snoots swings round and gallops away from the camp. The nomads look up and start to shout. But Snoots flies as though on wings through the black night.

  Granny opens her eyes to find she is still sitting on Snoots in the yard at the zoo. Prattle is perched on her shoulder and the young woman in the sun hat is saying, “You dropped off there for a few moments, Granny. Must be the heat.”

  Wondering how so much could have happened in so short a time, Granny Grinalot, takes off her glasses, rubs her eyes and replies, “Yes, I do usually have a snooze in the afternoon. Is there anywhere I can get a cup of tea?”

  ~~~~~~END~~~~~~

  Author's Note

  Linda Talbot writes fantasy for adults and children. She now lives in Crete and as a journalist in London she specialised in reviewing art, books and theatre, contributing a chapter to a book
about Conroy Maddox, the British Surrealist and writing about art for Topos, the German landscape magazine. She has published "Fantasy Book of Food", rhymes, recipes and stories for children; "Five Rides by a River", about life, past and present around the River Waveney in Suffolk; short stories for the British Fantasy Society, and stories and poetry for magazines.

  Contact blog: https://lindajtalbot.wordpress.com

  BACK TO THE START!