Читать книгу Paddington Helps Out - Michael Bond - Страница 7

Chapter Two PADDINGTON MAKES A BID

Paddington’s friend, Mr Gruber, laughed no end when he heard all about the trip on the river.

“Oh dear, Mr Brown,” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes, “things do happen to you. I wish I could have been there to see it all.”

It was the morning after the picnic and Paddington had hurried round as soon as possible to tell Mr Gruber about it.

Mr Gruber kept an antique shop in the Portobello Road. It was near the Browns’ house and Paddington usually called in when he was doing the morning shopping so that they could share a bun and a cup of cocoa for their ‘elevenses’. In his younger days Mr Gruber had been to South America and so they were able to have long chats together about Darkest Peru while sitting in their deck-chairs on the pavement. Paddington always looked forward to seeing Mr Gruber and he often lent a paw around the shop.

Most of the shops in the Portobello Road were interesting, but Mr Gruber’s was the best of all. It was like going into Aladdin’s cave. There were swords and old suits of armour hanging on the walls, gleaming copper and brass pots and pans stacked on the floor, pictures, china ornaments, pieces of furniture and pottery piled up to the ceiling; in fact, there was very little one way and another that Mr Gruber didn’t sell, and people came from far and wide to seek his advice.

Mr Gruber also kept a huge library of second-hand books in the back of his shop which he let Paddington consult whenever any problems cropped up. Paddington found this most useful as the Public Library didn’t have a bear’s department and the assistants usually looked at him suspiciously when he peered through the window at them.

After Paddington had explained to Mr Gruber all about his trip on the river they fell silent for a moment while they ate their buns and drank their cocoa.

It was while he was sitting back in his deck-chair admiring the view and watching the passers-by that Paddington noticed Mr Gruber’s shop window for the first time that morning. To his surprise it looked unusually empty.

“Ah,” said Mr Gruber, following his glance. “I had a very busy day yesterday, Mr Brown. While you were having high jinks on the river a big party of American visitors came round and they bought all kinds of things.

“As a matter of fact,” he continued, “I did so well I have to go to an auction sale this afternoon to pick up some more antiques.”

“An auction sale?” said Paddington, looking most interested, “What does it look like, Mr Gruber?”

Mr Gruber thought for a moment. “Well,” he began, “it’s a place where they sell things to the highest bidder, Mr Brown. All kinds of things. But it’s very difficult to explain without actually showing you.”

Mr Gruber rubbed his glasses and coughed. “Er… I suppose, Mr Brown, it wouldn’t be possible for you to come along with me this afternoon, would it? Then you could see for yourself.”

“Oooh, yes, please, Mr Gruber,” exclaimed Paddington, his eyes gleaming with excitement at the thought. “I should like that very much indeed.”

Although they met most days, Mr Gruber was usually busy in his shop and they seldom had the opportunity of actually going out together.

At that moment a customer entered the shop and so, having arranged to meet Mr Gruber after lunch, Paddington raised his hat and hurried back home to tell the others.

“Hmm,” said Mrs Bird, when she heard all about it over lunch. “I pity the poor auctioneer who tries to sell anything when Paddington’s there. That bear’ll knock anyone down to half-price.”

“Oh, I’m not buying anything, Mrs Bird,” said Paddington, as he reached out a paw for a second helping of treacle tart. “I’m only going to watch.”

All the same, when he left the house after lunch, Mrs Bird noticed he was carrying his old leather suitcase in which he kept all his money.

“It’s all right, Mrs Bird,” said Paddington, as he waved goodbye with his paw. “It’s only in case of an emergency.”

“Just so long as he doesn’t come home with a suite of furniture,” said Mrs Bird as she closed the door. “If he does it’ll have to go in the garden.”

Paddington felt very excited as he entered the auction rooms. Mr Gruber had put on his best suit for the occasion and a number of people turned to stare at them as they came through the door.

Having bought two catalogues, Mr Gruber pushed his way to the front so that Paddington would have a good view. On the way he introduced him to several of the other dealers as “Mr Brown – a young bear friend of mine from Darkest Peru who’s interested in antiques.”

They all shook Paddington’s paw and whispered that they were very pleased to meet him.

It was all much different to what Paddington had expected. It was really like a very big antique shop, with boxes and tables loaded with china and silver round the walls. There was a large crowd of people standing in the middle of the room facing a man on a platform who appeared to be waving a hammer in the air.

“That’s the auctioneer,” whispered Mr Gruber. “He’s the man you want to watch. He’s most important.”

Paddington raised his hat politely to the auctioneer and then settled down on his suitcase and carefully looked around.

After a moment he decided he liked auction sales. Everyone seemed so friendly. In fact, he had hardly made himself comfortable before a man on the other side of the room waved his hand in their direction. Paddington stood up, raised his hat and waved a friendly paw back.

No sooner had he sat down than the man waved again. Being a polite bear, Paddington stood up and once more waved his paw.

To his surprise the man stopped waving almost immediately and glared at him instead. Paddington gave him a hard stare and then settled down to watch the man on the platform who appeared to be doing something with his hammer again.

“Going…” the man shouted, hitting the table. “Going… gone! Sold to the young bear gentleman in the hat for three pounds fifty!”

“Oh dear,” said Mr Gruber, looking most upset. “I’m afraid you’ve just bought a set of carpentry tools, Mr Brown.”

“What!” repeated Paddington, nearly falling off his suitcase with surprise. “I’ve bought a set of carpentry tools?”

“Come along,” said the auctioneer sternly. “You’re holding up the proceedings. Pay at the desk, please.”

“A set of carpentry tools,” exclaimed Paddington, jumping up and waving his paws in the air. “But I didn’t even say anything!”

Mr Gruber looked most embarrassed. “I’m afraid it’s all my fault, Mr Brown,” he said. “I should have explained auction sales to you before we came in. I think perhaps I’d better pay for them as it wasn’t really your fault.

“You see,” he continued, when he returned from the desk, “you have to be very careful at a sale, Mr Brown.”

Mr Gruber went on to explain how the auctioneer offered each item for sale, and how, after one person had made a bid for something, it was up to anyone else who wanted it to make a better offer.

“If you nod your head, Mr Brown,” he said, “or even scratch your nose, they think it’s a sign you want to buy something. I expect the auctioneer saw you raise your hat just now and thought you were bidding.”

Paddington wasn’t at all sure what Mr Gruber meant, but having carefully made sure the auctioneer wasn’t looking, he quickly nodded and then sat very still while he watched the proceedings.

Although he didn’t say anything to Mr Gruber, he was beginning to wish he hadn’t come to the auction. The room was hot and crowded and he wanted to take his hat off. Apart from that he was sitting on the handle of his suitcase, which was most uncomfortable.

He closed his eyes and was just about to try and go to sleep when Mr Gruber nudged his paw and pointed to the catalogue.

“I say, Mr Brown,” he said. “The next item is very interesting. It’s an old pistol – the sort highwaymen used. They’re quite popular just now. I think I shall try bidding for it.”

Paddington sat up and watched excitedly as the auctioneer held the pistol in the air for everyone to see. “Lot thirty-four,” he shouted. “What am I bid for this genuine antique pistol?”

“Twenty pounds,” came a voice from the back of the room.

“Twenty pounds fifty,” called Mr Gruber, waving his catalogue.

“Twenty-two pounds,” came another voice.

“Oh dear,” said Mr Gruber, making some calculations on the side of his catalogue. “Twenty-two pounds fifty pence.”

“Twenty-three pounds,” came the same voice again.

Paddington stood on his case and stared across the room. “That’s the man who made me buy the carpentry tools by mistake,” he whispered, tapping Mr Gruber excitedly.

“Well, we mustn’t let him have it whatever we do,” exclaimed Mr Gruber. “Twenty-three pounds fifty!”

“Twenty-four pounds,” cried Paddington wildly.

“Ahem,” said Mr Gruber tactfully, not wishing to offend Paddington. “I think we’re bidding against each other, Mr Brown.”