Nanny Piggins and the Wicked Plan (5 page)

‘Why don’t our new members stand up and introduce themselves?’ said Barn Owl.

‘Hello,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘I’m Na–Sarah.’

‘I’m Samantha,’ said Samantha.

‘And I’m Borisina,’ said Boris in a high-pitched, feminine voice.

‘All right, it’s jolly good to have some new girls. Let’s make them welcome the Buzzy Bee way,’ said Barn Owl.

Nanny Piggins turned to Samantha. ‘Is this where they make us jump a motorbike through a burning ring of fire?’

But, sadly, Nanny Piggins was disappointed.

‘Let’s take them outside and teach them how to light a fire with just two sticks,’ said Barn Owl.

The next two hours were not terribly instructive for Nanny Piggins, Boris and Samantha. Watching girls rub two sticks together without generating even a puff of smoke was not Nanny Piggins’ idea of a good time.

‘They do realise you can buy a box of matches for twenty cents, don’t they?’ asked Nanny Piggins.

‘I think they want to be able to light a fire when they find themselves somewhere without shops that sell matches,’ explained Samantha.

‘Surely it would be a thousand times easier just to carry a box of matches at all times,’ said Boris.

‘I suppose they want to know how to light a fire if they fall in a river and their matches get wet,’ said Samantha.

‘If this is the alternative, I’d rather stay in the river and drown,’ said Nanny Piggins. (She did not really mean this. But watching the girls rubbing sticks together was making her very bored.)

‘Should I run down to the service station and get them some petrol to help start their fires?’ suggested Boris, because he was a very kind and helpful bear.

‘I think they’re meant to be able to do it without petrol,’ said Samantha.

‘At this rate, the only way they are going to start a fire is if one of them gets struck by lightning,’ said
Nanny Piggins, looking at her watch.

‘I don’t think that’s very likely,’ said Boris sadly, looking up at the sky. ‘There aren’t any clouds about.’

‘All right, that’s enough of fire lighting,’ said Barn Owl. ‘You’ve all done jolly well. Melinda’s sticks are really quite warm. I’m sure we’ll have a roaring fire when we try again next week. Now let’s go inside and play games.’

‘Ooh, games! I like games!’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘I do hope we play something good, like Laser Tag or Lava Floor.’

Sadly Nanny Piggins was, yet again, disappointed. Barn Owl’s idea of ‘a jolly game’ involved breaking up into teams and seeing who was fastest at passing a beanbag from one end of the room to the other.

‘I don’t see the point of this game at all,’ said Nanny Piggins as she flung her beanbag to Boris with the speed and accuracy of a major league baseball pitcher. ‘No-one ever needs a beanbag with any degree of urgency? It’s totally pointless. It’s not helping us find the thief at –’

Nanny Piggins froze mid-rant because she had just spotted something shocking on the wall.

‘Aaaaggghhh!’ said Nanny Piggins.

‘What’s wrong?’ asked Samantha.

‘It’s not a wasp, is it?’ said Boris as he curled himself into a ball on the floor.

‘That woman!!!’ said Nanny Piggins.

‘What woman?’ asked Samantha.

Nanny Piggins was temporarily at a loss for words, so she just pointed. Samantha and Boris looked in the direction of Nanny Piggins’ outstretched trotter. And sure enough, there on the wall was an enlarged black and white photograph of a stern-looking old woman.

‘I knew an evil mastermind had to be behind the biscuit theft, but I never could have imagined it was her!’ declared Nanny Piggins.

‘Who is it?’ asked Samantha.

‘That is our beloved patron, the founder of the Buzzy Bees – Lady Marigold Pickford,’ said Barn Owl, who had just joined them and was now smiling fondly at the photograph.

As Barn Owl drifted away to oversee the beanbag race in another part of the room, Nanny Piggins huddled together with Samantha and Boris. ‘She founded the Buzzy Bees?! I didn’t know her wickedness extended that far!’

‘But how do you know Lady Marigold Pickford?’ asked Samantha, burning with curiosity.

‘Great-Great-Granny Piggins looked after Lady Marigold Pickford’s children. She was their nanny,’ said Nanny Piggins.

‘No way!’ said Boris. ‘Get out! That’s, like, totally surprising.’ (Boris was getting very good at pretending to be a young girl.)

‘Lady Marigold Pickford was unspeakably cruel,’ continued Nanny Piggins. ‘She would force her children to get out of bed at six am.’

‘No!’ gasped Samantha.

‘Every morning!’ continued Nanny Piggins. ‘And that’s not all. She forced them to do physical exercise.’

Now Samantha and Boris both gasped.

‘Even when it was raining?’ asked Boris.

‘Even when there was something good on TV?’ asked Samantha.

‘Even if it was raining
and
there was something good on television,’ said Nanny Piggins.

‘The witch!’ cried Boris.

‘Lady Marigold Pickford must have stolen Great-Great-Granny Piggins’ biscuit recipe while Great-Great-Granny was working for her,’ said Nanny Piggins.

‘Was she really that wicked?’ asked Samantha.

‘Oh yes,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘Great-Great-
Granny Piggins would often collapse from exhaustion because Lady Marigold Pickford would allow no cake in the house.’

Samantha gasped. She knew what this meant to a pig.

‘If she could force children to exercise on a rainy day then she was capable of anything,’ said Boris.

‘So does that mean we can go home and stop pretending to be Buzzy Bees?’ asked Samantha. ‘Lady Marigold Pickford has been dead for years and years, so there’s nothing we can do about the stolen recipe now.’

‘Nothing we can do?!’ said Nanny Piggins disbelievingly. ‘There are a million things we can do!’

‘There are?’ asked Samantha, starting to worry.

‘First of all, we have to get revenge,’ said Nanny Piggins.

‘Of course,’ said Boris, because he was Russian and revenge was big in Russia.

‘But it’s only a biscuit recipe,’ said Samantha. ‘Wouldn’t it be easier to forget about it?’

‘Forget about it?!’ exploded Nanny Piggins, then, quickly struggling to control herself, continued. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to yell. I know it’s not your fault. It’s the way you’re raised. Humans have no principles. But I am a pig. I have my family honour
to maintain. It is my duty to exact revenge.’

‘But how?’ asked Samantha.

‘Just watch,’ said Nanny Piggins darkly as she climbed up on a chair and addressed the whole group. ‘Attention, everybody. I have decided to destroy the Buzzy Bees by starting my own rival organisation – the Pig Scouts!’

And that is exactly what she did. As it turned out the Pig Scouts was actually a brilliant idea. In a few short weeks they became much more popular than the Buzzy Bees. Because, as the large Pig Scout posters Nanny Piggins stuck up all over town made clear, the Pig Scouts had a much more sensible philosophy. The Buzzy Bees were always taught to ‘be prepared’ but Nanny Piggins taught the Pig Scouts to ‘be
un
prepared’. Because being unprepared made life much more interesting.

While the Buzzy Bees taught girls how to light fires, the Pig Scouts learnt to put out fires. Which, as Nanny Piggins said, ‘is a much more important skill. Anyone can light a fire. I do it all the time. Sometimes without even realising, whereas putting a fire out can be quite hard work.’

The Buzzy Bees earned badges for ‘Needlepoint’, ‘Orienteering’ and ‘Semaphore’. All completely useless skills according to Nanny Piggins. So the Pig Scouts earned badges for really important things like ‘Eating’, ‘More eating’ and ‘Digestion’. And most importantly, Pig Scouts were taught to keep these badges in a drawer. And never
ever
sew them on their clothes, because it would only ruin a designer outfit.

The uniform of the Pig Scouts was much better than the Buzzy Bee uniform. ‘Our uniform is to wear no uniform,’ said Nanny Piggins at their first meeting. ‘Everyone has to dress differently. In fact, if any two girls turn up to Pig Scouts wearing the same clothes they will be immediately sent home to change.’ This did tend to delay the start of meetings quite a lot, but it was worth it because everybody looked fabulous.

Instead of ‘Dollar-for-Deeds’ week, where Buzzy Bees asked friends and neighbours for money in exchange for doing household chores, the Pig Scouts had ‘Dollar-for-No-Deeds’, where they got people to pay them for
not
doing household chores. This was an enormous success. It turns out most people would much rather not have their car washed, floor swept or lawn raked by a small child who has no idea what they are doing.

But most importantly of all, the Pig Scouts planned their own biscuit drive. And in her bid to totally cripple the Buzzy Bees, Nanny Piggins came up with a master stroke. She took her great-great-granny’s biscuit recipe and made it even more delicious (by adding choc-chips). Nanny Piggins knew that once the Pig Scout biscuits went on sale, no-one would ever want to buy a Buzzy Bee biscuit again.

So by the end of the month, Nanny Piggins had brought all the local Buzzy Bee units to their knees. The only girls turning up to meetings were the ones related to the leaders and one eight-year-old, who was frightened of Nanny Piggins after she yelled at her for eating a bacon sandwich.

Nanny Piggins’ scheme of revenge came to its glorious conclusion when Barn Owl turned up at Mr Green’s doorstep in tears.

‘Do come in,’ said Nanny Piggins. She could be gracious now that she had won.

Barn Owl went into the living room and collapsed in a chair, sobbing. ‘Please, please, you have to stop this. If the Pig Scouts spread out nationally, then internationally, the Buzzy Bees will be finished.’

‘Exactly,’ said Nanny Piggins.

‘But why would you set out to destroy an organisation that only strives to do good works in the community and provide healthy outdoor activities for young girls?’ asked Barn Owl, as Samantha handed her a fresh tissue so she could weep some more.

‘Because there are some things much more important than good deeds and healthy children,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘Such as my family’s sacred biscuit recipe being stolen by the Buzzy Bees!’

‘The biscuit recipe!’ exclaimed Barn Owl. ‘It comes from your family?’

‘Of course! No-one but a Piggins could devise a biscuit that delicious,’ said Boris. He was proud of his sister.

‘Then the legend is true,’ said Barn Owl, a look of awe upon her face.

‘What legend?’ asked Derrick.

‘According to Buzzy Bee lore, a great pig with super culinary powers gave the biscuit recipe to Lady Marigold Pickford shortly after the Buzzy Bees was founded,’ explained Barn Owl.

‘Hah,’ scoffed Nanny Piggins. ‘Why on earth would my great-great-grandmother share a biscuit recipe with someone as unworthy as a non-pig?’

‘Apparently she did it to shut Lady Marigold
Pickford up,’ said Barn Owl. ‘I believe she could be a bit of a nag.’

‘That makes sense,’ conceded Nanny Piggins. ‘The Pigginses have always used food as a way of shutting people up. It is also good for drawing people out, getting people to reveal secrets and persuading people to spontaneously do cartwheels.’

‘So can we call a truce?’ begged Barn Owl.

‘Better than that,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘I will entirely disband the Pig Scouts.’

‘Why?’ exclaimed Samantha. ‘Things are going so well.’

‘Because I don’t believe in organisations,’ explained Nanny Piggins. ‘They’re fine when you need to get revenge for your family’s stolen biscuit recipe. But girls don’t need an organisation to teach them how to be girls. Girls are much better off figuring out how to be girls for themselves.’

‘I couldn’t agree with you less,’ said Barn Owl.

‘I know,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘That is why you are a middle-aged woman wearing a uniform and playing with schoolgirls. Whereas I am an internationally renowned, incredibly glamorous, flying pig.’

So Barn Owl left a happy Buzzy Bee leader. And Nanny Piggins graciously refrained from kicking
her in the bottom as she walked down the front steps. The Pig Scouts were disbanded before their biscuit drive had even begun. So Nanny Piggins, Boris and the children were able to spend a happy week eating their way through two hundred cases of delicious choc-chip biscuits.