Hector Trogg's Perfect World. P. A. Booth
in a heap of flaming wreckage, and you have.’
White spray filled the air as the fire engines poured foam on the burning wings. Men were suddenly breaking into the aircraft. Kate and Hector were quickly wrapped in fireproof blankets and carried to waiting ambulances.
‘Who are you? Where are we?’ asked Kate, looking round for Mum and Dad. The men did not seem to understand her. Hector realised that they did not speak English, and so decided to speak slowly and loudly.
‘Do - you - have - any - cakes?’ he yelled at them.
Minutes later Kate and Hector found themselves in a large airport building, in a strange land, with hostile natives, no real law, and nothing sensible to eat. They had landed in France.
Dad was taken off to hospital in an ambulance with Mum. Kate and Hector were assured that it was just a precaution.
It was two hours later when, in front of an impromptu gathering of several hundred people, Kate and Hector had been presented with medals. Hector repeatedly said that he would swap the medal for a ride in one of the fire engines, but either the local French dignitaries did not understand him or they did not believe him.
The ceremony went on for about fifteen minutes, which in Hector’s view was approximately fourteen minutes too long. He liked the applause and congratulation, but he did not like the speeches. Kate had to endure an annoying Frenchman who kept patting her on the head. Added to this Hector kept hissing threats about what he would do if his model fire engine did not turn up soon.
It was not until almost 9 o’clock that night that they heard that Mum and Dad were safe and well. Dad had received a nasty blow to the head, and the hospital had decided to keep him in for observation.
They also heard from Inspector Smithson. His message was that a special security nanny would be arriving to keep them safe.
CHAPTER TWO
Mrs Warp
A security nanny. What on earth was a security nanny? This question went through Kate’s mind again and again. The crowd had departed. The dignitaries had left. Kate and Hector had been sat in a corner of a large police office.
They had been told, in faltering English by a very tall French policeman, that they would be taken quickly and quietly to a secure house. The words discreet, quiet, hidden, dark, all seemed to swirl around whatever was planned next. The police were hushed, and now and then one of the policemen would glance over at Hector and Kate.
Hector had been very disappointed at the idea of being bundled into a small car and smuggled off to an anonymous house.
‘It’s a good idea Hector,’ Kate had assured him, ‘We need to disappear somewhere safe.’
Hector’s glum mood lightened slightly when the blue reflected flash of police lights danced around the grey office. There was a sudden bustle and urgency. It was apparent that many people had just arrived. Kate and Hector were beckoned outside. Kate could not believe her eyes.
‘What happened to discreet?’ she asked.
It was a motorcade. It was their motorcade! Hector was in raptures. He counted no less than seven police cars; all with their blue flashing lights on. There were two vans, the insides of which could not be seen. There were four police outriders on motorbikes. In the very middle of the motorcade was a large heavy S-class Mercedes limousine. Hector guessed at once that it would be bullet-proof.
Once inside the Mercedes, Hector went straight to the middle arm rest. If there was a mini refrigerator with some chocolate that was where it would be. It was exactly as he hoped; there as even some milk. Better than this was the noise when the motorcade began to move. All of the police cars seemed to have turned on their sirens. It was deafening!
Kate on the other hand was horrified, not just by the lights and sirens, but by how close the cars travelled together, and just how quickly they moved. It was fast, very fast, bordering on reckless.
While Hector experimented with every button he could reach, and managed to turn the air conditioning to very hot, very cold, completely off, and something resembling a gale; Kate noticed that the anonymous man in the passenger seat had a gun on his lap. The problem, she mused, with having so many people surround you with guns is that only one needs to be an assassin. Indeed, the perfect cover for an assassin had to be someone working for security; someone with a reason to carry a gun. None of these thoughts made her feel any more relaxed.
After twenty minutes of their journey the driver managed to disable all of the buttons within Hector’s reach. Kate was relieved, as it had felt as though she was riding on the inside of a very plush but erratic hair dryer. Hector was growing bored. He had eaten his way through everything he found in the refrigerator, played with every button and control he could reach, and wiped his chocolate covered hands on the immaculate leather interior of the Mercedes. The milk he had spilt was still soaking into the seat.
That was the annoying thing about Hector; he was nearly always happy; very happy! Plus, he looked, as he so often looked; like a labrador that has been thrust into a chocolate and jelly filled fridge only to be pulled out grubby, full, and still eating the last thing he’d managed to get his teeth into.
The motorcade veered right into a winding tree-lined drive. Grass-level lights illuminated the gaps between the trees, revealing an immaculate paper-flat lawn stretching away into the darkness.
As the lights from the château came into view it was apparent to Kate that the French authorities believed that discreet could still be grand. The man in the passenger seat with the gun turned around and spoke for the first time in a thick accent both Kate and Hector found difficult to understand.
‘There are guards around the perimeter, but there will only be one person with you,’ he explained, ‘This will be the security grandmother.’
Kate understood this to mean that the security nanny was already waiting for them. She was, for the first time, impressed with Inspector Smithson’s speedy arrangements.
As Hector and Kate got out of the car armed French police peered out into the inky dark of the night, their machine guns at their hips as they tried to look as important and tough as they could. The sirens were no longer blaring but the lights on all of the police cars were still flashing. It made Kate feel anxious. It made Hector feel important, and he grinned as he bounced on the balls of his feet.
‘Oh hello dears,’ came a very English voice, ‘I’m Melinda Warp. I am here to look after you.’
In front of Hector and Kate stood a middle-aged woman. She was slightly plump and only a little taller than Kate.
‘Are you the security nanny?’ asked Hector, in a tone that exuded disbelief.
‘Yes,’ smiled Mrs Warp, ‘that’s right.’
‘But I thought you’d be an Olympic athlete, or a Kung Fu expert, or mud wrestling champion or something like that,’ Hector blurted out in the same slightly disrespectful tone.
‘Well, I’m sure I can do all of those things,’ said Mrs Warp, ‘but first we have to get you up to bed.’
The thought of bed and sleep after such an intense and exhausting day seemed to sap the little energy remaining in Kate and Hector. As she walked towards the château’s doors Kate was surprised to see the motorcade gone. She had not really noticed.
Hector’s sleepy attempt to persuade Mrs Warp that he had a special exemption from cleaning his teeth signed by the UK Prime Minister had no effect, as she clearly did not believe a word of it. Nor would she be persuaded that, despite crash-landing a burning plane, he was really quite clean and did not need a shower.
Hector could barely remember the shower, and it was just a few minutes before he was drifting off to sleep in the warm comforting bed. Kate, despite the worries that swam around her head, soon followed Hector. Mrs Warp’s kind smile was the last thing both Hector and Kate saw that day.
It was the same kind smile Hector saw in