going.
âTwo hundred thousand!â Wilf again.
âThree hundred thousand!â Jasper waved his paddle.
âOooohhh!â said the crowd, as though it were at a circus.
âFour hundred thousand!â
âAaaaahhh!â
âFive hundred thousand!â
âGoodness me! You bats will get your centralheating, thatâs for sure,â cried Mrs Haverford-Snuffley .
âSix hundred thousand!â The crowd gave a strangled gasp with a kind of giggle somewhere in the middle of it, as Wilf raised his paddle and made his bid.
âThis is a world record for a painting of this size,â said the auctioneer who had gone pink in the face. He was terribly excited but he was trying not to show it.
âSeven hundred thousand!â Jasper again!
âWeâre getting close to my limit, Wilf,â Barney said. âIf it gets much more expensive than this, I canât afford it.â
âEight hundred thousand!â Dandelion put her paws over her ears as Wilf lifted his paddle. The suspense was too much; she couldnât bear to listen.
âNine hundred thousand!â Jasper!
âWe can go to a million but no higher,â Barney said.
âOne million!â cried the auctioneer and Wilfwaved his paddle in the air.
âOne million I am bid! Do I hear one million one hundred thousand?â
All eyes were on Jasper now, and he knew it. He was at his limit too, but he wasnât going to stop. Everyone was holding their breath, waiting to see if he would bid one million one hundred thousand. He twiddled the paddle as if he could hardly be bothered to lift it, as if the whole thing had become a bore to him. But he was within a whisker of getting what he wanted. All he had to do was raise his hand and the Haverford-Snuffley Angel would be his. Pretending to yawn, he moved to lift the paddle and make the final bid for one million one hundred thousand.
But before he could do it, just at that very moment, to everyoneâs amazement something completely unexpected happened. Cannibal jumped up and grabbed Jasperâs wooden paddle, snapping it in two. In exactly the same moment Bruiser leapt and sent Jasper flying,knocking him backwards off his chair and on to the floor. âEeek! Gerroff!â he cried, for Bruiser was sitting on his chest now, growling and pinning him down.
âOne million one hundred thousand! No takers?â shouted the auctioneer over the racket, for the place was in uproar. Mrs Haverford-Snuffley fainted and the bat fluttered wildly around the room. The reporter from the Woodford Trumpet couldnât write fast enough to keep up with everything that was happening, and the photographer was taking pictures non-stop. Plooff! Plooff!
Cannibal was smashing the paddle into matchsticks and Bruiser was still sitting on top of Jasper growling. People shrieked and Dandelion popped out of Wilfâs pocket and climbed onto his head, the better to see what was happening.
âDo I hear any advance on one million?â It was still Wilfâs bid!
âMiaow!â
âStoppit! Down boy!â
âGoing for one million!â
âAaargh!â
Plooff!
âGggrrrrhh!â
âHelp!â
âGoing!â shouted the auctioneer at the top of his voice over all the hullabaloo. âGoing, going â¦â and he banged on the desk with his hammer ⦠âGONE!
âGone for one million to the little fat man with a mobile phone and a cat on his head!â
11 The Next Day
Worn out with all the excitement, Mrs Haverford-Snuffley spent the whole of the following morning in bed, fanned from time to time by the cooling wings of an obliging bat. On the faded wallpaper was a bright rectangle, no bigger than a postcard, where the Haverford-Snuffley Angel had hung for so many years.
Over at The Oaks, Wilf was shattered. He awoke with a groan and looked around the room. To the left, propped against his alarm clock, was the
âTwo hundred thousand!â Wilf again.
âThree hundred thousand!â Jasper waved his paddle.
âOooohhh!â said the crowd, as though it were at a circus.
âFour hundred thousand!â
âAaaaahhh!â
âFive hundred thousand!â
âGoodness me! You bats will get your centralheating, thatâs for sure,â cried Mrs Haverford-Snuffley .
âSix hundred thousand!â The crowd gave a strangled gasp with a kind of giggle somewhere in the middle of it, as Wilf raised his paddle and made his bid.
âThis is a world record for a painting of this size,â said the auctioneer who had gone pink in the face. He was terribly excited but he was trying not to show it.
âSeven hundred thousand!â Jasper again!
âWeâre getting close to my limit, Wilf,â Barney said. âIf it gets much more expensive than this, I canât afford it.â
âEight hundred thousand!â Dandelion put her paws over her ears as Wilf lifted his paddle. The suspense was too much; she couldnât bear to listen.
âNine hundred thousand!â Jasper!
âWe can go to a million but no higher,â Barney said.
âOne million!â cried the auctioneer and Wilfwaved his paddle in the air.
âOne million I am bid! Do I hear one million one hundred thousand?â
All eyes were on Jasper now, and he knew it. He was at his limit too, but he wasnât going to stop. Everyone was holding their breath, waiting to see if he would bid one million one hundred thousand. He twiddled the paddle as if he could hardly be bothered to lift it, as if the whole thing had become a bore to him. But he was within a whisker of getting what he wanted. All he had to do was raise his hand and the Haverford-Snuffley Angel would be his. Pretending to yawn, he moved to lift the paddle and make the final bid for one million one hundred thousand.
But before he could do it, just at that very moment, to everyoneâs amazement something completely unexpected happened. Cannibal jumped up and grabbed Jasperâs wooden paddle, snapping it in two. In exactly the same moment Bruiser leapt and sent Jasper flying,knocking him backwards off his chair and on to the floor. âEeek! Gerroff!â he cried, for Bruiser was sitting on his chest now, growling and pinning him down.
âOne million one hundred thousand! No takers?â shouted the auctioneer over the racket, for the place was in uproar. Mrs Haverford-Snuffley fainted and the bat fluttered wildly around the room. The reporter from the Woodford Trumpet couldnât write fast enough to keep up with everything that was happening, and the photographer was taking pictures non-stop. Plooff! Plooff!
Cannibal was smashing the paddle into matchsticks and Bruiser was still sitting on top of Jasper growling. People shrieked and Dandelion popped out of Wilfâs pocket and climbed onto his head, the better to see what was happening.
âDo I hear any advance on one million?â It was still Wilfâs bid!
âMiaow!â
âStoppit! Down boy!â
âGoing for one million!â
âAaargh!â
Plooff!
âGggrrrrhh!â
âHelp!â
âGoing!â shouted the auctioneer at the top of his voice over all the hullabaloo. âGoing, going â¦â and he banged on the desk with his hammer ⦠âGONE!
âGone for one million to the little fat man with a mobile phone and a cat on his head!â
11 The Next Day
Worn out with all the excitement, Mrs Haverford-Snuffley spent the whole of the following morning in bed, fanned from time to time by the cooling wings of an obliging bat. On the faded wallpaper was a bright rectangle, no bigger than a postcard, where the Haverford-Snuffley Angel had hung for so many years.
Over at The Oaks, Wilf was shattered. He awoke with a groan and looked around the room. To the left, propped against his alarm clock, was the
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