Paddington 3, p.1
Paddington 3, page 1
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Prologue
Chapter 1 “Smile, please!”
Chapter 2 Life with the Browns
Chapter 3 Preparing for Paddington!
Chapter 4 A Strange Statue
Chapter 5 Time for Takeoff!
Chapter 6 A Worrying Turn of Events
Chapter 7 The Hunt Begins
Chapter 8 The Best Boat on the River
Chapter 9 Mr. Brown Tries to Be Brave
Chapter 10A Twinge in the Knees
Chapter 11The Legend of El Dorado
Chapter 12The Ghost of Caboto
Chapter 13Trouble Aboard!
Chapter 14“Abandon Ship!”
Chapter 15Lost . . .
Chapter 16Rumi Rock
Chapter 17The Secret Room
Chapter 18Following Roars
Chapter 19The Miracle
Chapter 20The Chase Is On!
Chapter 21All Is Revealed
Chapter 22Together Again!
Chapter 23Home Is Where the Heart Is
Epilogue
Photo Insert
Back Ad
Copyright
About the Publisher
Prologue
A few bear years ago, far away in Peru, something was rustling.
The “something” was hidden by tall plants in the lush cloud forest undergrowth. Suddenly it stopped . . . and sniffed . . . and popped its head out of the greenery. It was . . . a little bear cub wearing a large red tropical flower as a hat! Right in front of the cub’s nose hung a beautiful golden orange. The bear’s eyes widened at the sight of the juicy fruit.
The orange was at the end of a long, thin branch. And it hung over a very steep slope! Even so, the temptation to pick the fruit was just too much for the bear cub, so he started climbing toward it. He could almost reach it now. If he could just stretch a bit farther . . .
CRACK!
The branch SNAPPED and . . .
“AAARGH!”
The cub tumbled down the steep slope.
“Oof! Yowch! Eeek!” cried the cub.
SPLOSH!
He landed in a mountain stream and was carried swiftly along by the current. He tried to grab at the grassy banks . . . but the water was flowing too fast.
Then suddenly . . .
WHOOMPF!
The little bear was plunged into darkness. He had entered a volcanic tunnel!
“ROOOOOAR!” The poor cub let out a feeble roar that echoed as he was propelled down twists and turns, toward a light that was getting bigger and bigger until . . .
WHOOSH!
He shot straight out of a hole in a cliffside and landed in a much bigger river! He gasped for air as the waters foamed around him, only managing to keep afloat by desperately clinging to a log.
The sun was setting now, and the river was winding on through an impossibly steep-sided canyon. The poor little cub clung to his log, looking worriedly around him.
“Roooooar . . . ?” He shivered, realizing how tiny he was against the vast landscape.
Eventually he fell asleep on his log as the mighty river carried him farther and farther away from home.
Suddenly the waters became choppy again and the bear cub was jolted awake by a roaring sound, which was getting louder and louder. The little cub’s face filled with terror as he realized it was the sound of a giant waterfall to which he was drawing closer by the second! A wave knocked him off his log. He coughed and spluttered as he struggled to keep afloat. He was sinking beneath the waves, panicking, when . . .
“ROOOAR!” he cried as an adult bear reached out and grasped hold of his paw, pulling him up and out of the water.
The adult bear introduced herself as Aunt Lucy. She took the cub to her lovely rainforest treehouse and tucked him up cozily under a blanket. She gave him a marmalade sandwich, which he took gratefully, as he was very hungry.
“Wherever did you come from?” Aunt Lucy asked.
The little cub said nothing and just munched happily on the sandwich.
“Well, you are here now,” said Aunt Lucy.
The cub swallowed and let out a very cute roar.
Aunt Lucy smiled. “That’s it!” she said. “If you ever get lost again, just roar and I’ll roar back. And I’ll hear you . . . however far away you are . . .”
Chapter One
“Smile, Please!”
Some bear years later, that same little cub had grown up and was living in London with a family called the Browns . . .
Paddington Station was full of scurrying commuters. Everyone was much too busy to notice a strange squeaking noise coming from a photo booth. In any case, the photo booth seemed empty . . . until a bear’s head came into view. It was Paddington! He was concentrating on raising the stool to the right height.
“A little too high . . .” He made some more adjustments. “A little lower . . . ah! Perfect.”
Paddington took a pound coin from his ear. It had rather a lot of earwax on it, but he put it into the machine anyway. Then—POP!—the coin shot back out of the “reject” slot. Paddington frowned and tried again. POP! The same thing happened.
Oh dear. Paddington blew on the coin. How about I give it a “special rub” between my paws? he thought.
He put the coin in again and this time—CLUNK—success! The machine hummed to life and a pleasant recorded voice said, “Thank you for using Photo-Me.”
“Oh, not at all,” said Paddington. “Thank you for having me.”
Paddington carefully adjusted his hat and posed rather stiffly.
“Please note that headwear is not permitted,” said the recorded voice.
“Isn’t it?” Paddington quickly removed his hat and posed again.
“Please note that headwear is not permitted,” the recorded voice repeated.
“Oh?” Paddington was confused. He reached up and realized that his emergency marmalade sandwich was still on his head, so he whipped it off and ate it.
The recorded voice spoke again. “Make sure your face is within the red circle.”
Paddington frowned. “Pardon?”
“Commencing photos in three . . . two . . . one . . .”
Paddington hastily leaned forward and pressed his face right up against the red circle on the glass.
FLASH!
The camera had taken a photo of Paddington’s face looking very squished! Paddington was so confused he fell back and spun around on the stool, making it rotate downward so that he disappeared out of sight.
FLASH!
The camera had taken a photo of Paddington’s bottom! He picked himself up, looking very messy.
“Wait!” he cried as he put the stool back up to the right height. But he spun the seat too quickly and the stool came free in his hand! Oh no, now what? he thought, just as the third flash blinded him.
He fell, his arm flailing in the air as he tried to pick up the stool, but it was stuck—the leg of the stool had jammed itself into the money slot.
FLASH!
The last photo was a blurred shot of the very top of Paddington’s head. He wrenched the stool free, and the money-box cover came away with it! Coins cascaded all over the photo booth. Paddington was horrified. As he tried to feed the coins back into the slot, the recorded voice began speaking again.
“You have paid for twelve . . . twenty-six . . . forty-eight photos . . .”
The photo booth began rocking and flashing uncontrollably. Paddington whisked the curtain aside and stumbled out, totally blinded.
CRASH!
He immediately fell into a nearby newspaper kiosk and ended up on the floor in a heap of newspapers. But, surfacing from the pile, he was relieved to find a strip of passport photos in his paw—even if he did look a bit squashed in the photos.
Chapter Two
Life with the Browns
Back in his attic room at 32 Windsor Gardens in London, Paddington was writing a letter.
Dear Aunt Lucy,
I am writing to you with some Very Important News! This morning, Joe the postman delivered a very exciting envelope. Mr. and Mrs. Brown and all our neighbors were there to see me open it. You’ll never guess what it was . . . my very own British passport! Everyone gave me a round of applause. Mr. Brown said, “Now you can ‘Pass Freely Without Let or Hindrance.’” So, Aunt Lucy, this means that I am now “Officially British”! Like crumpets—or queuing—or saying “Crikey!”
All my friends had kindly chipped in to buy me a gift. It was a very smart black umbrella, tied up with a bow. Dr. Jafri said, “No British gentleman should be without an umbrella.” And Colonel Lancaster told me that it was “Not just any brolly—it’s the ‘Windsorman Deluxe,’ London’s finest.” I thanked them all very much. When I clicked a button on the handle, it made an impressive sound and sprang open! Everyone gasped!
I cannot tell you how proud I am to be Officially British . . .
There have been a few other changes at Windsor Gardens since you were last here . . . Judy is applying to university, a process which is known as “flying the nest.” This involves visiting a place called a “campus.” Apparently, you have to take a parent with you, so there’s someone to cry at the thought of you leaving home. However, it seems that Mrs. Brown cried a little too much, so Judy asked if she could bring Mr. Brown next time. The trouble is he ended up crying as well. But it didn’t matter too much as, according to Judy, all the visiting parents were sobbing.
Jonathan, on the other hand, rarely leaves his room. He spends most of
Mrs. Brown says it’s brilliant that the kids have grown up because now she’s got lots of time for her new art project. It is a collage of Jonathan and Judy as little children playing on the sofa. It’s called The Sofa Years because of the time when the whole family could all fit on one sofa.
Mr. Brown remembers that during those years, he didn’t ever finish a single crossword, but now he finishes them all the time. Mind you, he has to spend a lot of time at work at the moment because he’s got a new boss—an American called Madison. He has to have breakfast meetings before work where he “connects” with Madison. She thinks the company needs something called a “shake-up.” She says that Mr. Brown needs to “embrace the risk!” like her assistant Zayden, who paraglides into the office with her coffee in the morning. Mr. Brown is not sure that he can do this.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Bird has finally found some time to tick things off her “to-do” list. She has got rid of the wasp nest that was in the house and has fixed the ancient fuse box without too many explosions . . .
However, the biggest change at Windsor Gardens is that, despite the Browns living in the same house, they don’t actually seem to spend much time together anymore. But life in London is still quite wonderful, and I feel very much at home.
Lots of love,
Paddington
Suddenly Mrs. Brown appeared at the foot of the attic stairs, holding a letter.
“Paddington! There’s another letter for you!” she said. “I think it’s from Aunt Lucy.”
Paddington took the letter and opened it, feeling puzzled. “But . . . this isn’t Aunt Lucy’s handwriting.” He started reading aloud:
“Dear Paddington, please forgive my contacting you. We haven’t met, but I’m the Reverend Mother at the Home for Retired Bears in Peru. I’m afraid I have some rather worrying news about your Aunt Lucy . . .”
Paddington looked up, his face creased with concern. “Oh . . .” he said.
Mrs. Brown encouraged him to keep reading.
Paddington continued. “She’s always been such a happy member of our community. So bright and full of life! She has sung with the nuns’ choir, for example. But now there’s been the most pronounced change. She spends hours alone in her room. She seems to be missing you desperately! Please don’t mention I wrote. She wouldn’t want you bothered by such things. But, as the Lord tells us, ‘The doer who acts will be blessed in the doing.’ So I felt I must tell you—something is not right with Aunt Lucy. Yours sincerely, Reverend Mother.”
Later that day, Paddington read the letter out again to the whole family. “Something’s not right with Aunt Lucy,” he said. “I had no idea!”
The Browns reacted with sympathy and concern.
“Oh, Paddington.” Mrs. Brown sighed. “She must really be missing you.”
“I can’t bear to think of her feeling lonely,” said Paddington anxiously. “After all she’s done for me . . . what can we do?”
“Well, I’m not sure there’s much we can do. It’s not like we can drop everything and fly to Peru!” said Mr. Brown, laughing at the thought.
Mrs. Brown’s eyes lit up with excitement.
Mr. Brown became worried. “Mary . . . I know that look!”
“It’s the perfect idea!” Mrs. Brown interrupted. “Aunt Lucy’s missing Paddington, he’s just got his passport, this family needs to spend more time together . . .”
“Does it?” asked Jonathan.
“Let’s do it!” cried Mrs. Brown.
“A trip to Peru!” Judy exclaimed.
“A family holiday to Peru,” said Mrs. Brown firmly.
“Peru?” said Mr. Brown, looking shocked. “Just like that? Land of altitude sickness, uncharted jungles . . .”
Mrs. Bird raised her eyebrows. “And three of the world’s most dangerous roads, at least on a Harley . . .”
“Precisely!” said Mr. Brown. “From a risk-assessment point of view Peru is . . .” He trailed off as something dawned on him. He thought of his new boss, Madison, and her cool assistant, Zayden. What was it Madison had said? Embrace the risk, Henry . . . “Peru is exactly where we should be going,” he finished.
The whole family looked at him in astonishment, and Paddington beamed as he realized what this meant. He rushed back to add a PS to his letter to Aunt Lucy:
PS: There is actually some more very important news! WE’RE COMING TO VISIT YOU. THE BROWNS ARE COMING TO PERU!!!!
Chapter Three
Preparing for Paddington!
A few bear days later, in the Home for Retired Bears in Peru, the Reverend Mother was strumming the tune to “Kumbaya” on her Spanish guitar when Aunt Lucy burst in excitedly, clutching her letter from Paddington.
“My nephew, Paddington—he’s coming to visit! He’s coming here to the Home for Retired Bears, completely out of the blue!”
The Reverend Mother gave a gasp. “Hallelujah!” she cried and strummed another chord on her guitar.
Taking the instrument with her, she strode out of her office and into the cloisters.
“Get ready, everyone!” she called out. “He’s coming!” The nuns looked up from their chores as the Reverend Mother sang out, “Let’s prepare for Paddington—Paddington in Peru!”
A number of nuns followed her along the cloisters and joined in her singing. Aunt Lucy came up behind them, feeling slightly bewildered.
“He’s coming to stay from far away . . .” sang the Reverend Mother.
“And there’s so much to do!” sang the nuns.
“There’s prepping and there’s packing,” the Reverend Mother continued.
“No plan must be lacking,” the nuns sang.
“There’s no time for slacking. We’d better get cracking . . .” the Reverend Mother went on as a larger group of nuns appeared. They reached the end of the cloisters, just as the nuns chorused, “. . . and bring your nephew to you!”
BONG!
A nun rang the chapel bell as the procession entered the large common room where retired bears sat about relaxing, playing dominoes, reading the paper, or knitting. They looked up, a little confused by all the sudden jollity.
“Let’s prepare for Paddington, Paddington in Peru!” sang the nuns.
More nuns joined in with harmonies and tambourines, while others began to dust, polish, and vacuum in time to the music.
An old bear reading the paper asked, “Can he get me some duty-free?”
Nuns appeared on roller skates, singing while they glided around the common room, while others performed a tap dance. Some were juggling badminton rackets and oranges! One of the bears clicked her knitting needles rhythmically in time to the music as she held up a square of knitting that showed a picture of Paddington’s face. A nun beat out a rhythm on a dusty rug using a rug beater, while yet another ran up a wall and performed a somersault! Then a nun playing the organ changed suddenly from traditional hymns to an impressive heavy rock solo!
The nuns were building to the grand finale of their song now: “Everything must go with a swing,” they chorused, “for Paddington in Peru! Let’s prepare for Paddington, Paddington in Peru . . .”
They danced down some steps and out of the front entrance of the Home for Retired Bears, then on to the front lawn, still singing: “Paddington . . .”
Then the Reverend Mother ran out and threw her guitar high into the air. Still singing, she pirouetted again and again, the beautiful mountains all around her, a huge smile on her face. Then she flung her arms wide, and her guitar dropped from the heavens into her hands.
“Paddington in Peruuuuuu . . .” She took a huge breath for the last line: “Paddington in Peru!”
The song ended triumphantly, just as there was a warning rumble of thunder in the distance.
