father, or because he was someone who called most boys son if he didn’t know their names. As a reflex action, he found himself glancing down at the man’sfeet to see if he was wearing super-shiny black shoes (as he thought he remembered his father had worn). It turned out Mr Lippy was wearing shoes far bigger than any human being’s feet could ever hope to be. And they were lime green.
Sunny suddenly had a thought. A good one. “Er – Mr Lippy?” he asked. “Are you by any chance a clown?”
“What on EARTH gave you that idea?” asked Mr Lippy, roaring with laughter. “My tight curly red hair? My lips painted bright red, my huge shoes, or my comedy squirty-flower ?”
“What comedy squirty-flower?” asked Sunny.
Mr Lippy looked down at the lapel of his slightly threadbare mauve jacket. “Oh, botheration!” he snapped. “It must havedropped off on the way here.”
“Aren’t you off duty?” asked Sunny, more than a little intrigued.
“How do you mean?” asked Mr Lippy.
“I mean, you’re here to meet me, but you’re still in—”
“My clowning clobber? Not all of it. I’m not in my comedy trousers and funny stretch braces. It’s difficult to ride my bike when I’ve got them on.”
“Isn’t it difficult to cycle wearing those?” asked Sunny, looking down at the huge pair of lime-green shoes.
“Oh, not if I splay out my feet and pedal with my heels,” said Mr Lippy. “And, anyway, I couldn’t find my proper shoes. I think Trunk might have hidden them for a joke.”
“Is Trunk a circus elephant?”
Mr Lippy shook his head. “No, no. Not him.Don’t let Trunk hear you call him that! He’s a circus strongman. No neck to speak of. His body sort of ends and his head sort of begins with nothing in between.”
“Oh,” said Sunny (because he thought he should say something).
“But as much as I’d love to stay and chat, you’re supposed to have something for me.”
“Maybe Dad forgot. Would you mind waiting here?”
“As long as you’re quick,” said Mr Lippy.
Sunny dashed round to the front of the barn and down a small track, veering off across the field to a clump of trees behind which the Grunts had parked the caravan out of sight.
“Did you get it, Sunny?” asked Mr Grunt, eagerly looking up from the sofa.
“He seems to think we’ve got something to give him, not the other way around,” saidSunny.
Mr Grunt smacked himself in the middle of his forehead with the heel of his palm. “The envelope!” he said. “I forgot to give you the envelope. It’s in the top drawer of the kitchen dresser.”
Sunny went over to the dresser and pulled open the top drawer. On top of the usual mess of bits of string, bottle tops, takeaway menus and a single clothes peg was a sealed envelope. He pulled it out. “This one, Dad?” he asked.
“That’s the one, Sunny,” said Mr Grunt. “You go and give him that. There’s a good lad.” He turned his attention back to the fish in the television.
It was suddenly getting really dark now as Sunny made his way around the back of the barn. He was half expecting the clown not tobe there, but Mr Lippy was sitting on the tree stump. “Got it?” he asked, rising to his ( big-shoed ) feet.
“Got it,” said Sunny, handing him the envelope. “Though why Dad couldn’t just give it to you himself …”
“Better this way,” said Mr Lippy. “This way, if anyone asks, we can honestly say that he and I have never met and certainly didn’t meet this evening.”
“And why should anyone ask?” asked Sunny.
Mr Lippy handed him a similar-sized envelope in return. “Elephants often lead to lots of questions,” said Mr Lippy.
“Elephants?” said Sunny, but hewas talking to thin air. Mr Lippy was already climbing on to his bicycle. Moments later, the clown was pedalling off into the night.
Chapter Eight
On the Trail!
“I t’s a map,” Mr Grunt explained, opening the envelope at the kitchen table, unfolding the piece of paper
Sunny suddenly had a thought. A good one. “Er – Mr Lippy?” he asked. “Are you by any chance a clown?”
“What on EARTH gave you that idea?” asked Mr Lippy, roaring with laughter. “My tight curly red hair? My lips painted bright red, my huge shoes, or my comedy squirty-flower ?”
“What comedy squirty-flower?” asked Sunny.
Mr Lippy looked down at the lapel of his slightly threadbare mauve jacket. “Oh, botheration!” he snapped. “It must havedropped off on the way here.”
“Aren’t you off duty?” asked Sunny, more than a little intrigued.
“How do you mean?” asked Mr Lippy.
“I mean, you’re here to meet me, but you’re still in—”
“My clowning clobber? Not all of it. I’m not in my comedy trousers and funny stretch braces. It’s difficult to ride my bike when I’ve got them on.”
“Isn’t it difficult to cycle wearing those?” asked Sunny, looking down at the huge pair of lime-green shoes.
“Oh, not if I splay out my feet and pedal with my heels,” said Mr Lippy. “And, anyway, I couldn’t find my proper shoes. I think Trunk might have hidden them for a joke.”
“Is Trunk a circus elephant?”
Mr Lippy shook his head. “No, no. Not him.Don’t let Trunk hear you call him that! He’s a circus strongman. No neck to speak of. His body sort of ends and his head sort of begins with nothing in between.”
“Oh,” said Sunny (because he thought he should say something).
“But as much as I’d love to stay and chat, you’re supposed to have something for me.”
“Maybe Dad forgot. Would you mind waiting here?”
“As long as you’re quick,” said Mr Lippy.
Sunny dashed round to the front of the barn and down a small track, veering off across the field to a clump of trees behind which the Grunts had parked the caravan out of sight.
“Did you get it, Sunny?” asked Mr Grunt, eagerly looking up from the sofa.
“He seems to think we’ve got something to give him, not the other way around,” saidSunny.
Mr Grunt smacked himself in the middle of his forehead with the heel of his palm. “The envelope!” he said. “I forgot to give you the envelope. It’s in the top drawer of the kitchen dresser.”
Sunny went over to the dresser and pulled open the top drawer. On top of the usual mess of bits of string, bottle tops, takeaway menus and a single clothes peg was a sealed envelope. He pulled it out. “This one, Dad?” he asked.
“That’s the one, Sunny,” said Mr Grunt. “You go and give him that. There’s a good lad.” He turned his attention back to the fish in the television.
It was suddenly getting really dark now as Sunny made his way around the back of the barn. He was half expecting the clown not tobe there, but Mr Lippy was sitting on the tree stump. “Got it?” he asked, rising to his ( big-shoed ) feet.
“Got it,” said Sunny, handing him the envelope. “Though why Dad couldn’t just give it to you himself …”
“Better this way,” said Mr Lippy. “This way, if anyone asks, we can honestly say that he and I have never met and certainly didn’t meet this evening.”
“And why should anyone ask?” asked Sunny.
Mr Lippy handed him a similar-sized envelope in return. “Elephants often lead to lots of questions,” said Mr Lippy.
“Elephants?” said Sunny, but hewas talking to thin air. Mr Lippy was already climbing on to his bicycle. Moments later, the clown was pedalling off into the night.
Chapter Eight
On the Trail!
“I t’s a map,” Mr Grunt explained, opening the envelope at the kitchen table, unfolding the piece of paper
Similar Books
