Horror!
For Emma, who has been a star editor
~ D R and A M
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
1 Horror!
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
2 Splodge!
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
3 Grrr!
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
Collect all the Dirty Bertie books!
Copyright
Gran was round at Bertie’s house. She seemed pleased with herself for some reason.
“Notice anything different?” she said.
“New dress?” asked Dad.
“New shoes?” asked Mum.
“You’ve got fatter,” said Bertie.
“I have not!” snapped Gran. “If you must know, I’ve had my hair done.”
Bertie stared. It was true. Gran’s hair was normally white and frizzy, but today it was blonde and frizzy.
“I wanted to look smart for the cinema,” she said.
“The cinema?” cried Bertie. “Can I come?”
“You?” said Gran.
“Yes, they’re showing Return of the Blob Thing,” said Bertie. “Darren says it’s meant to be well scary.”
“It doesn’t sound suitable,” said Mum. “Anyway, I’m sure Gran doesn’t want to see a scary film.”
Gran smiled. “Well, I’d have to ask Reg,” she said, blushing a little.
“Reg? Who’s Reg?” asked Dad.
“My new boyfriend,” giggled Gran. “Tomorrow’s our first date.”
Boyfriend? Bertie almost choked on his biscuit. Should Gran be getting a boyfriend at her age? Next she’d be wearing jeans and getting her nose pierced!
“I met him at ballroom dancing,” she continued. “He says I’m a lovely mover.”
“Does he now?” said Dad. “And he’s taking you on a date?”
“That’s right,” said Gran. “He’s quite the charmer. I think he fancies me, Bertie.” She burst into a fit of giggles.
Bertie didn’t know where to look. What had got into her? Gran wasn’t normally like this – she sounded like a fourteen-year-old!
“What were you saying about a film, Bertie?” said Gran.
“Oh no, that’s okay,” said Bertie quickly. “You go with whatshisname.”
The last thing he wanted was a cinema trip with Gran and her boyfriend. How embarrassing! What if they held hands during the film? What if they put their arms round each other and… No, he didn’t even want to think about it.
While Gran was upstairs in the loo, Dad turned to Bertie. “Maybe you should go to the cinema tomorrow,” he said.
“Me? No way!” said Bertie.
“But I thought you wanted to go?”
“Not with Gran and her boyfriend!”
Dad sighed. “The problem is, we don’t know anything about this Reg,” he said. “He could be after her money.”
“Really?” said Bertie. He didn’t know Gran had any money!
“What I mean is, he could be anybody,” said Dad. “He might be a crook … or a kidnapper!”
“Don’t be silly,” scoffed Mum. “She met him at ballroom dancing.”
“Oh well, that’s all right, then!” said Dad, rolling his eyes. “All I’m saying is, Bertie could keep an eye on her.”
“Why me? If you’re so worried, YOU go!” said Bertie.
“I can’t go, she’s my mother!” said Dad. He brought out his wallet. “Look, how much is the cinema?” he asked. “Here’s five pounds.”
Bertie hesitated. He would much rather see the film with his friends. But this might be his only chance.
“Can I see Return of the Blob Thing?” he asked.
“I don’t see why not,” said Dad.
“Only if Gran thinks it’s suitable,” said Mum.
Gran was coming back. “Don’t tell her I put you up to this,” whispered Dad.
Bertie stuffed the money into his pocket. Result!
“You jammy dodger!” said Darren on the way to school the next day. “How did you fix that?”
Bertie shrugged. “It was easy. Dad’s actually paying me to go.”
“I wish my mum would let me go,” said Eugene. “She says I’m not old enough for scary films.”
“My dad says the cinema costs too much,” sighed Darren. “Who’s taking you, anyway?”
Bertie looked uncomfortable. “Actually it’s my gran – and her boyfriend,” he admitted.
“HER BOYFRIEND!” Darren burst out laughing. “Ha ha! Seriously?”
“You are joking?” said Eugene.
“It’ll be fine,” said Bertie.
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” said Darren. “Are they in love?”
“NO!” cried Bertie. “It’s the first time they’ve gone out.”
“That’s even worse,” said Darren. “My mum made my sister and her boyfriend take me to the cinema once. As soon as the lights went down they started, you know … kissing.”
“EWW!” cried Eugene.
“This is my gran!” said Bertie. “She’s about ninety!”
“Exactly,” said Darren. “Imagine seeing your gran kissing in the cinema. Gross!”
Bertie didn’t want to imagine it. There was no way he wanted to be there if Gran and her boyfriend were getting all smoochy. He’d be having nightmares about it for months!
If Bertie had his way, old people wouldn’t be allowed to go on dates, they’d stick to knitting and bingo. But he’d promised to go now. He’d just have to make sure that Gran and Reg didn’t get any ideas.
The next evening, Bertie arrived at Gran’s house. As usual Gran hadn’t finished getting ready. She was still in her petticoat and fluffy slippers.
She held two dresses against her in turn for him to inspect. “What do you think, Bertie?” she asked. “The green one … or the red? Which goes better with my hair?”
“I don’t care!” groaned Bertie, covering his eyes. “Just put something on!”
Gran went off to get changed and put on her make-up. Bertie thought she was going to a lot of trouble for a trip to the cinema.
DING-DONG!
“That’ll be Reg,” said Gran, hurrying out. “How do I look?”
“At least you’re dressed,” said Bertie.
Gran opened the front door. Reg was wearing a checked jacket and a yellow scarf knotted round his neck. He’d tried to hide his bald patch by combing over what was left of his hair. If Gran reckoned he was good looking, she needed her eyes tested, thought Bertie.
“Dotty! Don’t you look a picture!” cried Reg, coming in.
Bertie stood there scowling, his arms folded.
“And who’s this young man?” asked Reg.
“This is Bertie, my grandson,” said Gran. “I told you he might be coming.”
“Oh. I thought you were joking,” said Reg. He bent down to Bertie’s level. “Wouldn’t you rather be with your little friends?” he asked.
“None of them are allowed to come,” said Bertie.
“Well, I hope you’re going to behave,” said Reg. “Mind you, I can’t promise the same for me and Dotty.”
“Oh stop it, Reg!” hooted Gran.
Bertie rolled his eyes. If they were going to carry on like this all night, he might have to wear a bag over his head.
They squeezed into Reg’s tiny car and drove to the cinema. Bertie had to squash in the back. Reg’s aftershave stunk the car out, and he kept looking in the driver’s mirror to check his hair. Gran did her best to laugh at his terrible jokes.
At least when the film started Reg would have to shut up, thought Bert
ie.
There was a long queue at the box office when they arrived. The multiplex was showing eight films on different screens.
“Can I get some popcorn?” asked Bertie. “And a slushy?”
“Go on then,” said Gran.
“My treat,” said Reg. “Take your time, we’ll be in the queue.”
Bertie hurried off. He chose the Giant Whopper popcorn that came in a huge bucket, and a bright red strawberry slushy. He carried them across the foyer, spilling popcorn as he went. On the way he spotted a poster.
Bertie couldn’t wait. He hurried back to join Gran and Reg.
“It’s showing on Screen 4,” he told them, excitedly.
“What is?” asked Gran.
“The film, of course… Return of the Blob Thing,” said Bertie.
“You’re too late,” said Reg. “We’ve just bought tickets for this one.”
He pointed at a poster above them. The film was called Me, You and Bonzo Too. The poster showed a smiling couple cuddling a cute puppy.
Bertie gaped at it. “But that’s not the film I want to see,” he moaned.
“Well, we want to see it,” said Reg. “It looks nice.”
“And you’re a bit young for scary films,” said Gran.
Reg patted Bertie on the head. “Never mind, you’ll like this one,” he said. “It’s a love story.”
Bertie’s shoulders drooped. This was going to be the worst night of his life. Reg probably thought a love story would put Gran in a romantic mood. Well, not if Bertie had anything to do with it.
They went into the cinema. Gran found three seats near the front. Bertie flopped into the seat next to her.
Reg tapped him on the shoulder. “You’re in my seat,” he grumbled.
“No, I’m not,” said Bertie.
“You ARE,” said Reg, crossly. “I want to sit next to Dotty.”
“Well, so do I,” said Bertie. “Why can’t you sit in that seat?”
“You sit in that one,” snapped Reg.
The woman sitting behind them made a loud tutting noise.
“Just sit down, Reg,” sighed Gran. “People are looking.”
Reg sat down in a sulk. Bertie sucked his slushy drink. There wouldn’t be any lovey-dovey stuff with him sitting in the middle. Gran and Reg would just have to watch the film.
The lights went down as the film began.
CRUNCH, CRUNCH!
SLUUUURP, SLUUUURP!
A hand tapped Bertie on the shoulder. It was the woman sitting behind them. “Do you have to make that noise?” she grumbled.
“It’s popcorn, I can’t help it,” replied Bertie.
“Well, if you must eat, do it QUIETLY,” hissed the woman.
Gran gave Bertie a look. Bertie sighed. How were you meant to eat popcorn quietly? This was no fun – and the film looked rubbish. The man and woman were on a beach with the cute puppy scampering around.
“I love you,” sighed the man.
“I love you too,” cooed the woman.
“Woof! Woof!” barked the cute puppy.
Bertie wished the Blob Thing would appear and gobble them up. Suddenly he had a brilliant idea. What was to stop him sneaking off to see Return of the Blob Thing? It was showing next door. Gran and Reg were so caught up in the film, they wouldn’t even notice he’d gone.
He stood up.
“Just off to the toilet,” he said.
Bertie peeped through the door. The coast was clear. He crept into the cinema and slid into a seat on the back row. His plan had worked perfectly. Now he could sit back and enjoy the scariest film ever.
On the screen it was night time. A woman jumped into a car and locked the doors. She was trying to escape, but the car wouldn’t start.
SHLOOP! SHLOOP! Something slimy was moving in the woods.
BANG! Suddenly the car shook.
Bertie hid his eyes. He couldn’t look – the Blob Thing was coming…
ARGHHH! THERE IT WAS!
Bertie jumped out of his seat and fled for the door…
Back next door, Bertie clambered over people’s legs to get to his seat.
“What took you so long?” Gran whispered.
“I got lost!” said Bertie.
He went to sit down – but wait, what was this? Reg had pinched his seat!
“You’re in my seat!” hissed Bertie.
“It’s my seat now,” replied Reg. “Sit there.”
“Will you just sit down and BE QUIET!” snapped the woman behind them.
Bertie sat down next to Reg, who shot him a look of triumph.
Okay, you asked for it, thought Bertie. This is war.
In the film the couple were huddled on the sofa with the puppy. Reg pretended to yawn. His arm crept round Gran’s shoulder. He snuggled in closer. Bertie remembered what Darren had said about his sister and her boyfriend. He had to do something quickly. He smiled to himself. Maybe some strawberry slushy would cool things down?
Bertie leaned across. “Anyone want a drink?” he asked.
“Ugh! No, take it away!” said Reg, pushing Bertie’s hand away.
Oops! Ice-cold strawberry slushy emptied into Reg’s lap. He shot to his feet as if he’d been stung.
“YEEAARGHHHH!” he cried.
“Bertie!” groaned Gran.
“You idiot!” snarled Reg.
“It wasn’t my fault!” said Bertie.
“RIGHT, THAT’S IT! I’m calling the manager!” cried the woman sitting in the row behind.
Bertie never got to see the end of Me, You and Bonzo Too because the manager asked them to leave. Bertie could guess what happened anyway. They got married and lived happily ever after.
Reg wasn’t so happy. He drove them home in stony silence and parked outside Gran’s door.
“Well, thank you, Reg,” said Gran. “How are your trousers now?”
“Damp,” said Reg stiffly. “I won’t come in, thank you.”
“Perhaps it’s for the best,” said Gran.
Bertie got out and waited on the pavement.
Reg sniffed. “I won’t be at ballroom dancing next week, I’m taking Beryl out to dinner,” he said. “Just the two of us.”
“I see,” said Gran. She got out and slammed the car door.
Bertie and Gran watched Reg drive off.
“Ah well,” sighed Gran. “I was going off him anyway. I think he fancies himself.”
“Yes,” agreed Bertie. “He smells of cat wee too.”
Gran laughed. “I think that’s his aftershave,” she said. “Come on, I’ve got some chocolate cake in the cupboard.”
Bertie followed her indoors. He felt in his pocket. Actually, the evening hadn’t been a total disaster. Gran had bought his ticket so he still had the five pounds Dad had given him. And next week at the cinema they were showing Pirates of Blood Island 3…
Miss Boot seemed to be in a good mood this morning.
“I have some exciting news,” she said. “Next Tuesday we are all going on a school trip.”
Bertie sat up. He loved going on trips. The coach ride, the crisps and fizzy drinks, the being sick on the way home… Last term they’d gone to the zoo, which had been brilliant – apart from getting his head stuck in the bars of a monkey cage. But where was Miss Boot planning to take them this time? Maybe to the Space Centre – or, better still, to Chocolate World!
“You’ll be excited to hear we are going to the City Art Gallery,” said Miss Boot.
“The art gallery?” Bertie groaned so loudly that everyone turned round.
“Yes, the art gallery, Bertie,” said Miss Boot, icily. “And not just any art. We have the chance to see one of the world’s greatest paintings.”
She clicked on her laptop and a picture came up. It showed a bunch of flowers in a vase.
“Does anyone know this painting?” asked Miss Boot. “Who can tell me what it’s called?”
A hand shot up. “It’s Sunflowers, by Van Boff,” said Nick, smugly.
Trust Know-
All Nick to know the answer, thought Bertie.
“Very good, Nicholas,” said Miss Boot. “This painting belongs to a famous gallery in London, but next week it’s coming here. You are very lucky to have the chance to see it.”
“Why’s it so famous, Miss?” asked Eugene.
“Because Van Boff was a great artist and this is one of his finest paintings,” said Miss Boot. “Look at it carefully – the colours, the brushwork – it is a masterpiece.”
Bertie looked. Van Boff had certainly used a lot of paint. But why waste it on a bunch of droopy old flowers? If it was Bertie’s painting, he’d at least choose something interesting – like a Tyrannosaurus rex fighting an army of ninja robots.
He stuck up his hand. “Is it worth anything?” he asked.
Miss Boot laughed. “It’s a Van Boff, Bertie, it’s priceless.”
“You mean free?”
“I mean, it is worth millions,” said Miss Boot.
Millions? Bertie’s mouth fell open. People would pay a million pounds for that splodgy old flower painting? Why hadn’t anyone told him this before? He’d have paid a lot more attention in art lessons! For a million pounds he’d paint anything – even Nick’s ugly face. And what about the doodles inside his maths book? He’d done some great cartoons of Miss Boot. Maybe the art gallery would buy them!
Back home, Bertie handed his mum a letter from Miss Boot.
“It’s a school trip,” he explained. “I was hoping for Chocolate World but it’s an art gallery.”
“The City Art Gallery?” said Mum. “Well, that could be fun.”
“Hmm,” said Bertie, helping himself to biscuits. “Miss Boot wants us to see some old flower painting.”
“Flower painting?” said Mum. “You don’t mean Van Boff’s Sunflowers?”