Mr Gum and the Goblins (9 page)

And now . . . back to the story.

P
olly and Friday lay at the bottom of the well, in the darkest darkness they had ever not seen. The goblins were on their smelly way to Lamonic Bibber and there was nothing they could do about it.

‘I can't believe I missed the song,' Friday said miserably. ‘I bet it was magnificent.'

‘I bet you it wasn't,' said Polly. ‘Knowing Mr Gum, it was probbly full of mistakes an' burpin' an' what-have-you. Now let's see what's goin' on 'round here an' maybe we can escape.'

Together they scrabbled about in the darkness and soon their hands found something smooth and cold. It was the side of the old well.

‘Maybe we can move these bricks,' said Polly
eagerly, and they set to work pulling and pushing at the stonework. But no – those bricks weren't going anywhere. They'd been there for hundreds of years and they fancied being there for hundreds of years more and that was their final word on the matter. After a while Polly collapsed back in the darkness.

‘I hates it!' she fumed. ‘Mr Gum's just left us here to rot away like snowmen! An' what's more –'

Just then one of the bricks shifted a little. Then out it plopped on to the floor.

‘Magic bricks!' said Friday, tapping his nose wisely. ‘I thought as much!'

But for once in his life, Friday was wrong. A little face peeked out of the hole where the brick had been.

‘Why, it's that rabbit!' gasped Polly.

And yes, it really was. Because that rabbit hadn't forgotten Polly's kindness and somehow it
had known she was in trouble. So through the mountain it had burrowed, and those stupid bricks were no match for its powerful digging legs.

Now follow me,
the rabbit's bright green eyes seemed to say – and the travellers crawled through the burrow after the long-eared superhero. The passageway twisted and turned until Polly lost all track of time and Friday lost one of his shoes, but eventually they saw moonlight shining up ahead.
Sweet, sweet moonlight! And out they climbed into the cold starry night.

‘Thank you, little one,' said Polly, bending down to shake the rabbit's paw.

My work here is done,
the rabbit's bright green eyes seemed to say.
Now it is up to you, travellers. Only you can save the day with your bravery and courage. The way is hard, but I have faith in you because I am a rabbit.

‘Wow,' said Friday as the creature bounded
off into the darkness. ‘I've never met a rabbit with such talkative eyes.'

‘Never mind that,' said Polly. ‘We're still ages away from Lamonic Bibber, an' them goblins is easy gonna beat us back there before we can warn the townsfolk!'

It looked totally hopeless, but just then –

‘Hark,' said Friday. ‘What sound is this, coming our way this blustery night? Why, it almost sounds like – yes, it is – barking!'

‘Could it be?' said Polly, hardly daring to believe it was true. ‘Could it be?' she repeated, jumping on Friday's shoulders to get a better look. ‘YES!' she cried excitedly. ‘GOAL! NUMBER 1 HIT RECORD ON THE CHARTS! GOLD MEDAL! EXTRA LIFE! BRAND NEW PENCIL CASE!'

You see, these were all the best things Polly could think of – because rattling through the fields on his huge friendly paws was her old friend, Jake the dog! And a fine, fine dog was he!

There were sleigh bells all over his tail and an enormous Christmas tree stuck to his back,
and right at the top like the star he was sat little Alan Taylor, scanning the fields with his juicy raisin eyes.

‘There they are!' the biscuity fellow beamed when he saw the travellers. And as Jake came belting towards them, Polly laughed to see who was steering him, for it was a little boy no older than she.

‘Spirit of the Rainbow!' she laughed in pure joy. ‘Is it really you?'

‘Of course,' replied the lad as Jake pulled up and began licking Polly's eyebrows.

‘I promised to come to your aid when the Horn of Q'zaal Q'zaal was blown – and here I am.'

‘Thank you, sir,' said Friday graciously. ‘But there is one thing I have to ask. Couldn't you have come a bit sooner?'

‘Old man,' explained the boy. ‘When you blew that horn I was in Newcastle, staying over at my cousin's. I had to catch the train, and it was
delayed for ages – and then the taxi from the station broke down, so I had to walk the last two miles on foot. And then I had to – what?' he asked, noticing Friday's surprise. ‘You didn't think I would just
magically appear
when you blew the horn, did you? Oh!' laughed the boy as the travellers climbed aboard Jake's festive back. ‘The very idea! How you humans do amuse me!'

And then they were all laughing together for the idea of someone just
magically appearing
was simply ridiculous! But now there was no time to lose.

‘Mush!' cried the Spirit of the Rainbow, which is something you say to dogs to get them to run really fast through snow, no one knows why. And –
WOOF-PZAAANG!
– Jake took off like a hairy bullet called Jake and there they were, racing back to Lamonic Bibber in the moonlight.

‘Alan Taylor,' said Friday as they rode. ‘How is my darling wife, Mrs Lovely?'

‘Fine, thanks,' chuckled Mrs Lovely, popping her head out from inside the Christmas tree where she'd been hiding for a surprise. ‘I'm completely better, tra-la-la-la-la!'

‘THE TRUTH IS A LEMON MERINGUE!' shouted Friday happily. Mrs Lovely jumped into his arms, and everyone pretended not to look while they done a bit of kissing and that.

The rest of that night passed in a hazy crazy daze, with Jake woofing and yuffling endlessly through the white powdery snow. It was all down to that big bark-machine now, and he ran like no dog has ever run before or since! Actually, one dog has run like that before. His name was Mop Mop and it happened in Denmark in 1974. Mop Mop was chasing a florist through the streets of Copenhagen –

‘Who cares about Mop Mop?' cried Polly. ‘Come on, Jakey! RUN!'

And so over the frozen fields big Jake ran, hardly even slipping on the icy bits. Through snowdrifts great and small, bounding over walls, he leapt a country stile and ran for miles and miles, while night time turned to day, he ran a long long way, in the jingle jangle morning he went slobbing along.

But is he a-slobbin' along fast enough, that's what I does want to know!
thought Polly anxiously.

‘Have faith, child,' the Spirit of the Rainbow reassured her, as if he could read her brains. ‘And if you can't have faith, have a fruit chew.'

‘Hey, that reminds me,' said Polly, fishing out the Fruit Chew of Babylon from her skirt pocket. ‘I still gots this Great Gift what you gave me.'

‘Patience, child,' said the Spirit of the Rainbow. ‘The Fruit Chew of Babylon is powerful but it must be used at just the right moment. For as it is written in the stars, in special space-ink:

‘Whatever can that mean?' wondered Polly – but the Spirit of the Rainbow would say no more. And on they rode in silence, racing desperately against time.