Paddington Complete Novels

“The launderette?” said Mrs Brown, looking rather worried.

“That’s right,” said Mrs Bird. “And Mr Curry’s had a burglary. Someone broke into his kitchen in broad daylight and took some jerseys he’d put out for mending.”

Mrs Bird had just arrived back from her holiday and she was exchanging all the news with Mrs Brown. “If I’d known what was going on,” she continued, “I wouldn’t have had a minute’s peace. Jonathan and Judy away and you and Mr Brown ill in bed!” She raised her hands in horror at the thought of it all.

“We’ve been doing very well,” said Mr Brown, as he sat up in bed. “Paddington’s been looking after us.”

“Hmmm,” said Mrs Bird. “That’s as may be.” Mrs Bird had made her way upstairs and she had also found the remains of her feather duster hidden in the hall-stand.

“Have you seen Paddington anywhere?” asked Mrs Brown. “He went out just now but he said he wouldn’t be very long.”

“No,” said Mrs Bird. “And that’s another thing. There are wheelbarrow trails right through the house. All the way up from the shed, through the kitchen and out through the front door.”

“Wheelbarrow trails?” repeated Mr Brown. “But we’ve been in bed for two days.”

“That,” said Mrs Bird sternly, “is exactly what I mean!”

While the Browns were trying to solve the mystery of the wheelbarrow trails Paddington was having an even more difficult time in the launderette.

“But I only opened the door to see where the washing had gone,” he explained. He was sitting on the counter wrapped in a blanket while the mess was being cleared up.

“But it hadn’t gone anywhere,” said the stout lady. “The things only looked as if they had disappeared because they were going round so fast. They always do that.” She sought for words to explain what she meant. “It’s a… it’s a sort of phenomenon.”

“A phen-omen-on?” repeated Paddington. “But it didn’t say anything about a phenomenon in the instructions.”

The lady sighed. Washing machines were rather difficult things to explain and she’d not had many dealings with bears before.

“Bubbles all over my machines!” she exclaimed. “Water all over the floor. I’ve never seen such a mess!”

“Oh dear,” said Paddington sadly. “I’m in trouble again.” He looked at the pile of half-washed clothes next to him. He didn’t know what Mrs Bird would say when she heard all about it, and as for Mr Curry…

“I tell you what,” said the stout lady as she caught sight of the expression on Paddington’s face. “Seeing it’s your first time here and we’re not so very busy, suppose we do it all again. It would never do to have a dissatisfied customer in a launderette.” She gave Paddington a wink. “Then we can put it all in the spin dryer and if I’ve got time I might even be able to iron it for you in the back room. After all, it’s not every day we have a bear’s washing to do.”

Mrs Bird surveyed the neat pile of newly ironed laundry and then turned to Mr and Mrs Brown who had just come downstairs for the first time. “Well,” she said approvingly, “I never expected to see this. I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

“I do hope it’s all right, Mrs Bird,” said Paddington anxiously. “I had a bit of a phenomenon in the launderette.”

“A phenomenon?” repeated Mrs Brown. “But you can’t have a phenomenon in a washing machine.”

“I did,” said Paddington firmly. “And all the water came out.”

“I think you must be mistaken, dear,” said Mrs Brown. “A phenomenon means something strange.”

“And talking of strange things,” said Mrs Bird, looking hard at Paddington, “Mr Curry knocked on the door a moment ago and left you a toffee. He says he’s very pleased with his jerseys. He doesn’t know what you’ve done to them but they fit him for the first time in years. They’ve always been too large up till now.”

“Perhaps,” said Mr Brown, “there was a phenomenon in the washing machine after all.”

Paddington felt very pleased with himself as he made his way upstairs to his room. He was glad it had turned out all right in the end. As he closed the dining-room door he just caught a remark of Mrs Bird’s.

“I think we’re very lucky indeed,” she said. “Looking after a big house like this for two days and doing all the washing into the bargain. That young bear’s one of the old school.”

Paddington puzzled over the remark for some time and in the end he went to consult his friend Mr Gruber on the subject.

When Mr Gruber explained to him that it meant he was very reliable, Paddington felt even more pleased. Compliments from Mrs Bird were very rare.

“But all the better for having when they come, Mr Brown,” said Mr Gruber. “All the better for having when they come.”

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“I vote,” said Mr Brown, “that we celebrate the occasion by visiting a restaurant. All those in favour say ‘aye’.”

Mr Brown’s suggestion had a mixed reception. Jonathan and Judy called out “aye” at once. Mrs Brown looked rather doubtful and Mrs Bird kept her eyes firmly on her knitting.

“Do you think it wise, Henry?” said Mrs Brown. “You know what Paddington’s like when we take him out. Things happen.”

“It is his birthday,” replied Mr Brown.

“And his anniversary,” said Judy. “Sort of.”

The Browns were holding a council of war. It was Paddington’s summer birthday. Being a bear, Paddington had two birthdays every year – one at Christmas and the other in mid-summer. That apart, he had now been with the Browns for a little over a year and it had been decided to celebrate the two occasions at the same time.

“After all, we ought to do something,” said Mr Brown, playing his trump card. “If we hadn’t seen him that day on Paddington station we might never have met him and goodness knows where he would have ended up.”

The Browns were silent for a moment as they considered the awful possibility of never having met Paddington.

“I must say,” remarked Mrs Bird, in a voice which really decided the matter, “the house wouldn’t be the same without him.”

“That settles it,” said Mr Brown. “I’ll ring the Porchester right away and reserve a table for tonight.”

“Oh, Henry,” exclaimed Mrs Brown. “Not the Porchester. That’s such an expensive place.”

Mr Brown waved his hand in the air. “Nothing but the best is good enough for Paddington,” he said generously. “We’ll invite Mr Gruber as well and make a real party of it.

“By the way,” he continued, “where is Paddington? I haven’t seen him for ages.”

“He was peering through the letterbox just now,” said Mrs Bird. “I think he was looking for the postman.”

Paddington liked birthdays. He didn’t get many letters – only his catalogues and an occasional postcard from his Aunt Lucy in Peru – but today the mantelpiece in the dining-room was already filled to overflowing with cards and he was looking forward to some more arriving. There had been a card from each of the Browns, one from Mr Gruber, and quite a surprising number from various people who lived in the neighbourhood. There was even an old one from Mr Curry, which Mrs Bird recognised as one Paddington had sent him the year before, but she had wisely decided not to point this out.

Then there were all the parcels. Paddington was very keen on parcels – especially when they were well wrapped up with plenty of paper and string. In fact he had done extremely well for himself, and the news that they were all going out that evening as well came as a great surprise.

“Mind you,” said Mrs Brown, “you’ll have to have a bath first.”

“A bath!” exclaimed Paddington. “On my birthday?”

Paddington looked most upset at the thought of having a bath on his birthday.

“The Porchester is a very famous restaurant,” explained Mrs Brown. “Only the best people go there.”