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Tour Troubles
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First published in Great Britain in 2011 by Simon and Schuster UK Ltd, a CBS company.
Text copyright © 2011 Tamsyn Murray
Cover and interior illustrations copyright © 2011 Lee Wildish
This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.
No reproduction without permission.
All rights reserved.
The right of Tamsyn Murray and Lee Wildish to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work respectively has been asserted by them in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988.
Simon & Schuster UK Ltd
1st Floor, 222 Gray’s Inn Road, London WC1X 8HB
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN: 978-1-84738-728-8
eBook ISBN: 978-1-84738-829-2
Printed and bound in Great Britain.
www.simonandschuster.co.uk
www.tamsynmurray.co.uk
For Lily Slater, the naughtiest puppy ever.
Please stop eating the sofa.
It’s not easy being Britain’s best-loved bunny. If I’m not meeting my adoring fans or rehearsing my latest dare-devil stunt, then I’m being the darling of Saturday night TV on Superpets, the show where animals are the stars. Some people think my life is all chomping on carrots and waggling my powder-puff tail, but there’s a lot more to it than that. Trust me, being this cute is hard work.
Not that I get any special treatment for being bigger than Bugs Bunny. My owner, Susie, understands what a celebrity pet needs. She’s pretty clever for an eight year old and is always ready with a perfectly prepared popcorn stick, but the rest of the Wilson family are a bit clueless. Mrs Wilson does her best, but Susie’s little sister, Lily, once tried to marry me to the family cat, Smudge. And don’t even talk to me about Susie’s dad, the man who makes Captain Hook look friendly. I don’t know why he’s got it in for me. Maybe he’s secretly jealous because no-one wears T-shirts with his face on.
Anyway, it’s thanks to him that my hutch is practically falling down around my ears and all because he’s too mean to buy a new one.
I call him EE, which stands for Evil Edward, and the name suits him perfectly. I mean, everyone knows a celeb should live in a posh pad with a diamond encrusted water bottle and fresh hay cut by their own butler, right? ‘I don’t know what all the fuss is about,’ he said when Susie pointed out the flaking paintwork and rusty bars on my tatty old door. ‘Where’s my screwdriver? I’ll have it fixed in no time.’
I didn’t like the sound of that. EE might think he was a Do-It-Yourself whizz, but anything he tried to fix ended up being Destroy-It-Yourself. There was no way I was letting him loose on my hutch. Luckily, it seemed Susie felt the same way. ‘The vet says Harriet has grown. She needs a bigger house.’
‘Nonsense,’ EE replied, slapping his hand on the top of the hutch and making the walls wobble. ‘This one is fine.’
Susie looked very determined. ‘There’s one on special offer at the pet shop.’
A-ha! Now this was more like it. I knew exactly which one she meant–Mulberry Mansion. It had two floors, a bathroom and a paddling pool for those hot summer evenings. A hutch like that was so much more me and now it was within my reach. All I had to do was convince EE and I knew exactly how to doit.
With one carefully placed back leg, I kicked hard at the side of the hutch. There was a creak as the wooden wall peeled away and landed with a thump on the grass. For a second, I didn’t move. Then I was off, zooming towards EE’s prize-winning roses. I hadn’t actually planned to eat them, but now that I was close enough to smell them, I couldn’t resist a nibble.
‘Get away from my flowers!’ EE shouted, running towards me and waving his arms. ‘Susie, wait for me in the car. As soon as I’ve caught that pesky rabbit, we’re going to the pet shop.’
I let myself be bundled into my travelling basket to wait whilst they went to collect my new home. At last, I thought, a plush pad I could invite my famous friends to. Maybe EE wasn’t so bad after all.
Of course, I should have known something would go wrong. But it wasn’t until EE had finished putting the new hutch together and the whole family gathered around to inspect it that the full horror dawned.
‘Ta-da!’ He waved a proud hand at my new home.
I stared. Never mind the wonky legs and upside down door, instead of a super-deluxe Mulberry Mansion, I was looking at a Cosy Cottage. It wasn’t even a rabbit hutch. The torn packaging on the ground clearly read ‘Gerbil House’.
Lily stopped chewing Barbie’s hair and pushed the soggy doll towards the open cage door. ‘Just right for my dolly.’
‘I’m sorry, Harriet,’ Susie said sadly. ‘Mulberry Mansion was sold out. This was all they had left.’
Mrs Wilson looked doubtful. ‘It’s a bit small.’
EE didn’t seem sorry at all. ‘Rubbish. It’s cosy, that’s all. She’ll soon get used to it.’
Smudge flicked his tail smugly and padded indoors to his roomy, fur-lined cat bed. Grinding my teeth, I hopped inside and immediately bumped my nose on the back wall. EE sniggered, then turned it into a cough when Susie glared at him. If I didn’t know better I’d say EE enjoyed moving me into a Z-list hutch. Maybe now you see why I call him Evil Edward.
The way I won my place on the Superpets TV show is the stuff of legend. From the moment TV presenter Gloria Goodwood saw me pull off a perfect bunny backflip at our church village fair, I’ve never looked back. She invited me to take part in the Superpets Search for a Superstar and, after a gruelling audition process, the public voted me the winner and my life changed forever. I was no longer a boring pet bunny, I was Harriet Houdini: Stunt Bunny! And, just like every other star, I had my share of crazy fans, like the Great Maldini, who tried to kidnap me for his magic act.
During the auditions I’d made some great friends, like Cherry the counting kitten and Lulu the hula-hooping chimp. Unfortunately, I’d made a couple of enemies too – Doodle the opera-singing poodle and her owner, Miranda. They thought they were better than all the other contestants. So, when I scooped first place in the final and Doodle and Miranda stormed off the stage in a huff, I didn’t mind. In fact, I didn’t care if I never saw them again. And I might not have done, if Gloria hadn’t come up with a little surprise to keep us busy when Superpets had a month long Easter break from filming.
‘Ah, Mr Wilson, I’m glad I caught you,’ she said, bustling over to EE as he cleared my dressing table up after we’d finished the last show. ‘Do you have time for a quick chat?’
Now, it’s no secret in the Wilson household that EE goes a bit funny when Gloria is around. His cheeks turn pink, a big, goofy smile crosses his face and his tongue gets tied up in knots. Mrs Wilson says sniffily that he’s got a thing’ about Gloria Goodwood. I don’t know about that, but it does make him look very odd.
‘Grnf,’ he said, nodding his head up and down. ‘Defsolutely.’
Gloria’s smile slipped a little bit. ‘Er – good. Well, I’ve got some exciting news. We’re taking Superpets on the road in a special tour called Superpets Live and we’d love Harriet to take part. She’s bound to be the star of the show!’
My ears stood on end as I imagined my name at the top of the posters. I liked the idea of being the headline act! And the more time I spent away from cramped Cosy Cottage, the better. I’d have to persuade Smudge to do some damage whilst I was away – he needed a new scratching post, maybe he could use the legs of my hutch . . .
r /> ‘I was thinking of six or seven dates over two weeks,’ Gloria went on. ‘We’ll be staying at the best hotels, of course, and you’ll both be well looked after.’
I twitched my whiskers in irritation. What did she mean, ‘both’? If she thought I was spending a whole two weeks on my own with EE, she had another thing coming! It wasn’t as though he even did anything interesting – his idea of fun was snoozing in front of the snooker on TV with a cup of cocoa. No, if we were going on tour, Susie had to come with us.
But EE’s face lit up and I knew he was imagining himself staying in a luxury hotel. He coughed. ‘That sounds nery vice, Miss Goodwood.’
‘Oh, please,’ Gloria said, patting his arm. ‘Call me Gloria.’
EE’s cheeks turned even pinker. ‘Will it be just us on the tour, G-Gloria?’
Gloria smiled. ‘Oh, no, there’ll be lots of other pets from the show and the auditions.’ She looked at the clipboard in her hand. ‘Let’s see, we have Cherry the counting kitten, Trevor’s terrific tumbling terrapins, Lulu the chimp and Spike-tacular, the hedgehog dance group. Oh, and Doodle the opera- singing poodle. You remember her, don’t you?’
The last time I’d seen Doodle, she’d been up to her snooty nose in pond water and very unhappy with me. It was a memory that had cheered up many a boring hour in my bunny hutch, but I wasn’t jumping for joy that she’d be on the tour too. If I knew Doodle and her owner Miranda, they’d be looking for a way to get their own back on me.
‘It sounds great.’ EE was beaming at Gloria. ‘I’ll book the time off work. Just name the date and we’ll be there!’
He was right, I decided after they’d sorted out all the details and EE was carrying me back to the car; it did sound great. The only real problem was Doodle. What dirty tricks would she and Miranda have up their sleeves this time?
It wasn’t until we got home and EE spilled the beans about Superpets Live that I realised he really wasn’t planning to take Susie. Great, I was going to be stuck with him after all. Susie didn’t look very happy either.
‘But who will tuck Harriet in at night and read her a story?’ she asked, her blue eyes filling with tears and her bottom lip starting to wobble.
EE threw me a brisk look. ‘I’m sure Harriet will be far too busy practising her backflips to need a bedtime story.’ Folding her arms, Susie said, ‘Of course she’ll want a story. And she needs lots of toys and her special fluffy blanket too.’
Susie was too well behaved to stamp her foot, but I wasn’t. I thumped hard on the living room floor to make sure everyone knew I was not a happy bunny.
‘I don’t see why she can’t go with you,’ Mrs Wilson said, smiling at Susie. ‘It is the school holidays, after all, and I’m sure there’ll be plenty of room on the tour bus.’
‘Luxury coach, actually,’ EE said, his expression turning dreamy. ‘Gloria said it’s got a TV and a coffee machine and everything. No expense spared, according to Gloria.’
Raising an eyebrow, Mrs Wilson said, ‘Oh, I expect you and Gloria are going to have a wonderful time.’
Even I could hear the warning in Mrs Wilson’s voice, but EE seemed to have missed it completely. ‘I think you’re right. Gloria says she’s going to take very good care of me.’
He wandered off, whistling the Superpets theme tune. Mrs Wilson watched him go, hands on hips. ‘That settles it, Susie, you’re going on that tour.’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Someone has to keep an eye on your dad. He’s gone Gloria ga-ga.’
Worse than that, I decided with a cross twitch of my whiskers, he’d completely forgotten who the star of the show was. At some point, I’d have to remind him that he was just my roadie, but right now I had more important things on my mind. With only a few days before we went off on tour, I had packing to do. Two weeks away from home was a long time.
On Monday morning, EE made a ridiculous fuss when he saw the amount of luggage I had. ‘Seven bags?’ he exclaimed, staring at the matching cases Susie had piled up by the front door. ‘She’s only a little rabbit. What on earth does she need seven bags for?’
I suppose it was hard for him to understand – when he’s not at work he slobs around the house in scruffy jeans and a saggy old cardigan – but I have an image to maintain. What would my fans think if I went out on stage looking less than my best?
Susie ignored him and peered into my travel basket, her face scrunched up anxiously. ‘Are you going to be alright in there, Harriet?’
‘I’m sure she’ll be fine,’ soothed Mrs Wilson.
‘But Dad says I’m not allowed to let her out on the bus and it’s such a long way to Glasgow.’ Susie looked from one parent to the other. ‘What if she needs a wee?’
‘We’ll put some sawdust in there,’ EE said firmly. ‘There’s no way I’m risking another rabbit rumpus.’
He glared down at me and I knew he was thinking of the time I’d gone exploring on the train to my first Superpets audition. It had been his fault. Honestly, I don’t know what he’d expected after he stuffed my basket under that smelly old seat.
Mrs Wilson gave Susie a big hug and planted a sloppy kiss on her nose. ‘Bye bye, Susie. Be good.’
Lily watched and then turned to me. ‘Bye bye, Hawwit,’ she said in a stern voice, pushing her stubby fingers into the basket and almost poking me in the eye. ‘Be good.’
Huh, that was a blooming cheek: Lily was the naughtiest little girl I knew. Even so, I was going to miss her while I was away, and Susie’s mum too, but someone had to stay at home with Smudge. He was scowling at me sulkily from under the hallway table and I knew he wished he was the one going on tour.
The doorbell made all of us jump a few seconds later. Glancing through the bobbled glass of the front door, I could just make out the Superpets Live banner on the side of the bus outside.
‘Ready for an adventure, Harriet?’ Susie whispered, picking up my basket.
A shiver of excitement ran through me as we climbed on board the bus, with Lily and Mrs Wilson waving us off. OK, so I was going to miss home and I had to put up with an overload of EE for the next two weeks, but I was going to be in the spotlight, doing what I loved best with Susie at my side. What could possibly go wrong?
I don’t know about you, but I’m not a big fan of long journeys. There’s no room to stretch your legs, Eye Spy gets really boring after the first hundred miles or so and it’s only a matter of time until someone is sick. And when you’re sat next to a kitten who insists on counting every single lamp-post all the way to Glasgow, those miles really drag. Don’t get me wrong, I really like Cherry, but she has a passion for numbers and wants the world to know it.
You might think that EE would have wanted to sit beside me on the bus – after all, I was the reason he was there – but he couldn’t wait to snap the specially made seatbelt around my basket.
‘Sorry about this, Harriet. Gloria said the pets have to stay in their cages,’ he said, taking a long, hard look around me to make sure I couldn’t escape. ‘We’ll be in the owner’s lounge at the back of the bus if you need us. Come on, Susie.’
Patting my cage, Susie said, ‘It’s only for a few hours, Harriet.’
Huh, I thought as they headed off towards a big TV screen surrounded by comfy looking seats, EE didn’t sound sorry. In fact, he sounded pretty pleased about it. But at least I wasn’t next to Doodle. Her owner, Miranda, had shuddered when she’d seen me.
‘Ugh, we don’t want you anywhere near that revolting rabbit, do we, Doodle?’ she exclaimed and made sure she put the poodle as far from me as possible.
I didn’t mind. Even though Doodle was safely strapped in, she didn’t stop growling at me and I knew she’d aim a nasty nip my way if she got the chance. I could almost feel her evil stare drilling into me as we started on our way to Glasgow.
But it wasn’t long before Doodle’s growls turned whimpers. Only a few miles later, she was covering her eyes with her paws and making so much noise that the whole bus could hear her.
‘What’s that terrible racket?’ EE asked, turning around to frown in our direction. ‘I can’t hear the television.’
‘It’s not Harriet,’ Susie said, before EE could blame me. ‘She’s too small to make so much noise.’
Sam, the nine-year-old owner of Spike-tacular, put his fingers in his ears. ‘Is that Doodle? She’s not supposed to perform until she’s on stage.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Miranda snapped, jumping to her feet and hurrying towards us. ‘My Doodle has a delicate tummy. Obviously, being on the bus doesn’t agree with her.’
‘Does she have to sing about it?’ asked Sam, as Doodle’s howls got louder.
I wrapped my ears around my head, hoping they would drown out the noise, but Doodle was determined to make sure that everyone knew she was ill.
Miranda bent down, fussing around the cage. ‘Is my Doody-Woody feeling sicky-wick?’
I don’t know about Doodle, but Miranda’s silly voice was enough to make anyone feel sick.
‘Stop the bus!’ Miranda demanded. ‘Doodle must have some fresh air.’
‘I can’t stop on the motorway,’ the driver called back. ‘But it’s not far to the next service station. We can pull in there if you like?’
Doodle yowled miserably and Miranda fussed over her. ‘We don’t have much choice. Hang on, darling.’
Now, I’m no doctor, but even I could see that Doodle was suffering. Her nose was pressed flat against her seat and her eyes were squeezed shut. She didn’t stop her pitiful moaning for a second. I could see what Sam meant; it did sound like she was singing, in a really awful, out of tune kind of way.