Paddington 2: The Story of the Movie: Movie tie-in. Anna Wilson
enough, far below the rope bridge there was a tiny baby bear struggling to stay afloat in the fast-flowing river. He was clinging desperately to a bit of driftwood. And the river was pulling him closer and closer to some rocks …
Pastuzo lowered his binoculars. He turned to speak to his wife only to see she had left her place on the bridge and was already climbing down a trailing vine towards the waters beneath!
“Lucy!” Pastuzo shouted.
“Lower me down,” said Lucy firmly.
Pastuzo could see there was no point in arguing with her. “All right. But be careful!” he cried.
His heart in his mouth, he untied the vine and began lowering Lucy towards the torrent that raged below. The cub was struggling harder than ever to stay on the branch, but he lost his grip and slipped into the water. Lucy was still a few metres above him as the little cub managed to reach out and grasp the branch again.
“Lower, Pastuzo! Lower!” Lucy called up to her husband.
The cub raised his eyes to see Lucy coming towards him on the vine, reaching out her paw to him. He stretched to take hold of her, but slipped and sank beneath the water.
Lucy grabbed the little cub as he surfaced and swiftly pulled him from the swirling waters. But above her Pastuzo lost his balance on the bridge. His hat flew off as he toppled … He closed his eyes and flailed around with his paws, grabbing on to the bridge and catching hold of it just in time to stop himself from falling.
He opened one eye, hardly daring to look at the scene unfolding below. To his huge relief he saw Lucy still clinging on to the vine. She had his hat, and something else too.
“Lucy? Lucy!” Pastuzo cried.
Lucy smiled up at him. “I’m afraid we’re not going to London after all,” she said.
Pastuzo frowned. “Why not?”
Lucy looked down at the soaking-wet little bundle in her arms. Her eyes filled with love as she took in the tiny face of the bear cub, partly covered by Pastuzo’s hat. “We’ve got a cub to raise,” she said.
Pastuzo peered at the little bear. “What’s he like?”
“Rather small …” said Lucy. The cub sneezed, and the hat fell over his face. “And rather sneezy!” said Lucy with a laugh.
She lifted the hat to see that the cub had found one of Pastuzo’s emergency marmalade sandwiches and was tucking in with relish.
“He likes his marmalade,” said Lucy.
“That’s a good sign,” said Pastuzo, smiling.
“Oh yes, Pastuzo,” said Lucy. “If we look after this bear, I have a feeling he’ll go far.”
Some bear years later …
PADDINGTON WAS SITTING in his attic room in number 32 Windsor Gardens where he lived with the Brown family, thinking about his old life back in Darkest Peru. He looked out over the city of London – he really did have the most spectacular view from his window.
“How you would love this place, Aunt Lucy,” Paddington said aloud. “I do wish you could leave the Home for Retired Bears and visit me here.” He knew this was not possible, though. He sighed. “I’ll just have to write to you and tell you all my news instead,” he said.
And with that, Paddington grabbed some paper and a pen and began a letter to his aunt.
Dear Aunt Lucy,
I am settling in nicely with the Browns, although I still miss you dreadfully. Mrs Bird’s marmalade is excellent, but it will never be quite the same as yours.
It has been a very busy summer. Mrs Brown has been swimming in the Serpentine lake in Hyde Park. She is training to swim all the way to France. Personally, I don’t see the point, as there is a perfectly adequate ferry service, but she insists that is not the same. She’s just finished illustrating an adventure story so maybe that has inspired her.
Judy was going to start a newspaper with her boyfriend Tony this summer, but he “dumped” her, apparently – although she says she “dumped” him. She spends a lot of time crying and at one point she said she was going to become a nun! Thankfully she seems to have changed her mind about that and she is going to start the newspaper on her own.
Jonathan is joining Judy at big school this autumn. He has spent the summer building an amazing model railway, but no one is allowed to talk about it as it’s “not cool”. He says that if anyone asks, he is now called “J-Dog”, likes “kung fu and aliens” and is “definitely not into steam trains”. I have decided to stop asking him anything for now, in case I get it wrong.
Mr Brown has been very busy too. There have been big changes at the insurance company where he works. Mr Brown was very much hoping to get a promotion to become the Head of Risk Analysis, but a much younger man called Steve Visby got it instead. Ever since, Mr Brown’s behaviour has also been quite strange. He now blends his food, paints his hair a funny colour and wears Lycra clothing to go to an exercise class called Chakrabatics. He says it is “all a question of opening your mind and your legs will follow”, although his legs looked a bit reluctant to follow him anywhere after the things he had asked them to do.
In spite of all these peculiar goings-on, London really is everything you hoped for and more, Aunt Lucy. Everyone is so kind to me – I have made a lot of very good friends here in Windsor Gardens. I only wish I could introduce you to them all.
I hope that you are well and enjoying life in the Home for Retired Bears. I must sign off now as I’m on a Very Important Mission. I am afraid it is Top Secret so I can’t tell you about it – yet!
Lots of love,
Padingtun
EVERYTHING PADDINGTON HAD told his Aunt Lucy was true: he was very much at home now at number 32 Windsor Gardens. The Browns were a lovely family, and their house was wonderfully warm and welcoming. Paddington especially loved his bedroom in the attic. He enjoyed nothing more than to sit and look out of the little round window across the city he had grown to love.
“Ah, London!” he sighed, gazing out one morning in early autumn. “Another lovely day ahead,” he said, as he hopped down from the window and took himself to the bathroom to get ready.
He brushed his teeth and gargled with mouthwash, as he did every morning. He smiled to himself as he remembered the first time he had been let loose in the Browns’ bathroom. On that occasion, he had swallowed a whole bottle of mouthwash and had managed to flood the bathroom too! He wasn’t going to make those sorts of mistakes again. Oh no. He knew how to behave these days, he thought, picking up Mrs Bird’s Dustbuster and cleaning his armpits.
His morning routine completed, Paddington ran out to the landing and leaped on to the banister. He slid all the way down to the ground floor where a delicious breakfast of freshly made marmalade sandwiches was waiting for him.
“Thank you, Mrs Bird!” he cried, raising his hat. “You certainly know how to make a breakfast fit for a bear.”
“You’re welcome, dearie,” said Mrs Bird, beaming.
She