that?’ asked Samantha worriedly.
‘It sounds like people yelling,’ said Nanny Piggins.
And as they entered the common room they discovered all the previously catatonic old people were now extremely animated. Some were waving Zimmer frames and some were trying to stand up sothey could shake their fists. And they were all yelling at Boris who, characteristically enough, was fighting to hold back tears. (He did not like yelling, except when audiences yelled ‘Bravo!’, ‘Encore!’ and ‘You are the best ballet dancing bear I’ve ever seen.’ And even that made him cry.)
‘What’s got them so upset?’ asked Derrick.
‘Listen!’ urged Nanny Piggins.
The children listened to what the old people were yelling.
‘But who’s Bethany’s real mother?’ cried an old lady wearing a crocheted hat.
‘And how did Vincent kidnap Bridge and force him to become an international modelling superstar?’ called an old man with two hearing aids.
‘How can Brianna be Astra’s baby when she clearly isn’t African–American?’ asked an old lady, who was starting to sob because she was so confused.
‘Oh Sarah, I’m so glad you’re here,’ said Boris. ‘They loved watching The Young and the Irritable but they’ve got so many questions and this man keeps hitting me with his oxygen stand. What am I going to do?’
‘Turn the TV back on,’ advised Nanny Piggins, ‘and show them The Bold and the Spiteful . I’ll go to the kitchen and get them some lunch.’
‘Noooo!’ screamed the old people suddenly and in unison.
‘Please don’t feed us any more of that horrible muck,’ pleaded the old lady with the crocheted hat.
‘We promise to be good,’ said the man with two hearing aids.
‘I won’t hit the bear anymore,’ promised the man who had used his oxygen stand as a weapon.
‘Never fear,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘I’m going to the kitchen to make sure you get a proper lunch.’
‘What does that mean?’ asked the crocheted-hat lady. ‘Are you going to give us proper vegetables?’
‘I can if you want,’ said Nanny Piggins, ‘but I was planning to start with a really nice cake.’
The old people cheered joyously as Nanny Piggins marched off in the direction of the kitchen.
When she got there Nanny Piggins found three apathetic middle-aged women, emptying processed frozen nuggets onto baking trays and stirring giant pots of grey–green goo that the packet said was reconstituted powdered peas.
The women took one look at Nanny Piggins’ steely glare and realised the jig was up. They did not wait for her to start chasing them about with a cooking ladle before they tried to make a run for it. Luckily Nanny Piggins got in a good whack on eachof their bottoms before they escaped out the back door, as she yelled angry warnings at them never to attempt to mass-poison old people with horrible, overcooked vegetables again.
‘What are we going to do now?’ asked Derrick. ‘We’ve got half an hour to make lunch for 50 old people or they are going to start a riot.’
‘And there’s no real food here,’ said Michael, peering into the cupboard. ‘Unless you count generic tinned broccoli.’
‘Which I certainly do not,’ said Nanny Piggins, opening up her purse. ‘Fortunately I had the foresight to borrow your father’s credit card before I left the house this morning. Derrick, you’re best at forging his signature – take it down to the supermarket and buy 20 bags of flour, 20 bags of sugar, 10 dozen eggs, 20 litres of cream and 200 chocolate bars.’
‘That’ll make a lot of cakes,’ agreed Derrick, ‘but what about a main course?’
‘Cake will be the main course today,’ declared Nanny Piggins. ‘These retirees are clearly undernourished and need building up.’
By the time Derrick got back with the ingredients there was only five minutes left in The Bold and the Spiteful .
‘What are we going to do?’ wailed Samantha. ‘We can’t make enough cake for 50 old people in
‘It sounds like people yelling,’ said Nanny Piggins.
And as they entered the common room they discovered all the previously catatonic old people were now extremely animated. Some were waving Zimmer frames and some were trying to stand up sothey could shake their fists. And they were all yelling at Boris who, characteristically enough, was fighting to hold back tears. (He did not like yelling, except when audiences yelled ‘Bravo!’, ‘Encore!’ and ‘You are the best ballet dancing bear I’ve ever seen.’ And even that made him cry.)
‘What’s got them so upset?’ asked Derrick.
‘Listen!’ urged Nanny Piggins.
The children listened to what the old people were yelling.
‘But who’s Bethany’s real mother?’ cried an old lady wearing a crocheted hat.
‘And how did Vincent kidnap Bridge and force him to become an international modelling superstar?’ called an old man with two hearing aids.
‘How can Brianna be Astra’s baby when she clearly isn’t African–American?’ asked an old lady, who was starting to sob because she was so confused.
‘Oh Sarah, I’m so glad you’re here,’ said Boris. ‘They loved watching The Young and the Irritable but they’ve got so many questions and this man keeps hitting me with his oxygen stand. What am I going to do?’
‘Turn the TV back on,’ advised Nanny Piggins, ‘and show them The Bold and the Spiteful . I’ll go to the kitchen and get them some lunch.’
‘Noooo!’ screamed the old people suddenly and in unison.
‘Please don’t feed us any more of that horrible muck,’ pleaded the old lady with the crocheted hat.
‘We promise to be good,’ said the man with two hearing aids.
‘I won’t hit the bear anymore,’ promised the man who had used his oxygen stand as a weapon.
‘Never fear,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘I’m going to the kitchen to make sure you get a proper lunch.’
‘What does that mean?’ asked the crocheted-hat lady. ‘Are you going to give us proper vegetables?’
‘I can if you want,’ said Nanny Piggins, ‘but I was planning to start with a really nice cake.’
The old people cheered joyously as Nanny Piggins marched off in the direction of the kitchen.
When she got there Nanny Piggins found three apathetic middle-aged women, emptying processed frozen nuggets onto baking trays and stirring giant pots of grey–green goo that the packet said was reconstituted powdered peas.
The women took one look at Nanny Piggins’ steely glare and realised the jig was up. They did not wait for her to start chasing them about with a cooking ladle before they tried to make a run for it. Luckily Nanny Piggins got in a good whack on eachof their bottoms before they escaped out the back door, as she yelled angry warnings at them never to attempt to mass-poison old people with horrible, overcooked vegetables again.
‘What are we going to do now?’ asked Derrick. ‘We’ve got half an hour to make lunch for 50 old people or they are going to start a riot.’
‘And there’s no real food here,’ said Michael, peering into the cupboard. ‘Unless you count generic tinned broccoli.’
‘Which I certainly do not,’ said Nanny Piggins, opening up her purse. ‘Fortunately I had the foresight to borrow your father’s credit card before I left the house this morning. Derrick, you’re best at forging his signature – take it down to the supermarket and buy 20 bags of flour, 20 bags of sugar, 10 dozen eggs, 20 litres of cream and 200 chocolate bars.’
‘That’ll make a lot of cakes,’ agreed Derrick, ‘but what about a main course?’
‘Cake will be the main course today,’ declared Nanny Piggins. ‘These retirees are clearly undernourished and need building up.’
By the time Derrick got back with the ingredients there was only five minutes left in The Bold and the Spiteful .
‘What are we going to do?’ wailed Samantha. ‘We can’t make enough cake for 50 old people in
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