Читать книгу The World of David Walliams: 6 Book Collection - David Walliams, Quentin Blake, David Walliams - Страница 55

16 Rule Britannia

Mother sniffed. And sniffed again. Her nose wrinkled with disgust.

“Are you sure you had a bath, Mr Stink?” she enquired, as Dad drove all the family and Mr Stink to the television studio.

“Yes, I did, Madam.”

“Well, there is a funny smell of pond in this car. And dog,” pronounced Mother from the front seat.

“I think I’m going to puke,” pronounced Annabelle from the back seat.

“I’ve told you before, darling. We don’t say ‘puke’ in this family,” corrected Mother. “We say we are feeling very slightly nauseous.”

Chloe opened the window discreetly, so as not to hurt Mr Stink’s feelings.

“Do you mind if we keep the window closed?” asked Mr Stink. “I am a little chilly.”

The window went up again.

“Thank you so much,” said Mr Stink. “Such unimaginable kindness.”

They stopped at some traffic lights and Dad reached for one of his hard rock CDs. Mother slapped his hand, and he put it back on the steering wheel. She then put her favourite CD on the car stereo, and the old couple in the next car looked at the Crumb family strangely as ‘Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves’ came blaring out of their car.

“Mmm, no no no, that won’t do at all…” said the TV producer as he studied Mr Stink. “Can we put some dirt on him? He doesn’t look trampy enough. Make-up? Where’s make-up?”

A lady with far too much make-up on appeared from around a corridor, scoffing a croissant and holding a powder-puff.

“Darling, have you got any grime?” asked the producer.

“Come this way, Mr…?” said the make-up lady.

“Stink,” said Mr Stink proudly. “Mr Stink. And I am going to star on the television tonight.”

Mother scowled.

Chloe, Annabelle and Dad were led to a little room with a television, half a bottle of warm white wine and some stale crisps, to watch the show being broadcast live.

The thunderous title music started, there was polite applause from the audience and the pompous-looking presenter, Sir David Squirt addressed the camera. “Tonight on Question Time it’s an election special. We have representatives from all the major political parties, and also a tramp who goes by the name of Mr Stink. Welcome to the programme, everyone.”

Everyone around the table nodded, apart from Mr Stink who proclaimed loudly, “May I say what a delight it is for me to be on your show tonight?”

“Thank you,” said the presenter uncertainly.

“Being homeless I have never seen it,” said Mr Stink. “In fact, I have absolutely no idea who you are. But I am sure you are wildly famous. Please continue, Sir Donald.”

The audience laughed uncertainly. Mother looked displeased. The presenter coughed nervously and tried to continue.

“So the first question tonight…”

“Are you wearing make-up, Sir Declan?” enquired Mr Stink innocently.

“A little, yes. For the lights of course.”

“Of course,” agreed Mr Stink. “Foundation?”

“Yes.”

“Eye liner?”

“A little.”

“Lip-gloss?”

“A smidge.”

“Looks nice. I wish I’d had some now. Blusher?”

The audience chuckled throughout this exchange. Sir David moved on rapidly. “I should explain that Mr Stink is here tonight as he has been invited to live with Mrs Crumb…”

“Crooommmbe,” corrected Mother.

“Oh,” said Sir David. “I do apologise. We checked the pronunciation with your husband, and he said it was Crumb.”

Mother went red with embarrassment. Sir David turned his attention back to his notes. “Later on in the programme,” he said, “we will be discussing the difficult topic of homelessness.”

Mr Stink put his hand up.

“Yes, Mr Stink?” asked the presenter.

“May I just pop to the lavatory, Sir Duncan?”

The audience laughed louder this time.

“I should have gone before we started, but I asked the make-up lady to do my hair and it took forever. Don’t get me wrong, I am thrilled with the results; she gave me a wash and blow-dry. They even put something called gel in it, but I didn’t get a chance to go to the little boy’s room.”

“Of course, if you need to go, go…”

“Thank you so, so much,” said Mr Stink. He rose to his feet and started to potter off the set. “I shouldn’t be too long, I think it’s just a number one.”

The audience howled again with laughter. In the little room with the stale crisps and the television Chloe and Dad were laughing too. Chloe looked at Annabelle. She was trying not to laugh, but a smile was definitely creeping up her face.

“My apologies!” exclaimed Mr Stink as he crossed the stage again in the opposite direction. “I am told the lavatory is this way…!”