Chapter Nine: Raymond Finds Food

Raymond’s nostrils were filling with water and he felt as if he had no strength left. A torrent was still pouring from the tap and he was getting hotter by the minute. His body was swirling in a little whirlpool, round and round, and all he wanted to do was to give up and sink to the bottom. Suddenly, something hit him on the head. What now? he thought.

He couldn’t see anyone in the room but objects were flying into the bath from above: a metal tank which disappeared below the surface; a yellow rubber duck; a toy soldier and…happy days... a green plastic yacht! Raymond could not believe his luck. He struggled across to the boat. It was also turning in the swell of water and it was difficult to make it stay still. It was this or the end so Raymond summoned his last bit of energy and managed to haul himself in over the side. He fell face down and coughed water from his lungs. He was not safe yet. Things were still raining down on him and he could now see a little child’s hand chucking toys for all he was worth.

The boat smacked against the side of the tub just below the taps. Raymond spied a hanging chain. He quickly reached out and grabbed it. He was not sure if it would take his weight but he had to try. With a struggle he pulled himself out of the boat and clambered up the few inches to the rim of the bath. On the other side all he could see was a gorgeous mop of blonde curls.

‘Teddy! Teddy! What on earth are you doing in there?’ shouted Missus Daisy.

There was no time to lose. Raymond leapt onto the ledge, knocked over a plant and escaped out of the open window under cover of steam as shouty people entered the room:

‘They’ve filled the tub!’
‘What a waste of water!’
‘Well, let’s just bath them now.’

Outside, Raymond shook his fur like a dog and droplets spun everywhere. Keeping to the flowerbeds, he made his way back to his den. He was never, ever going back inside that house again!

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After his ordeal, Raymond slept for most of the day, snuggled up in Missus Daisy’s bloomers. It was hunger that drove him back over to the seeds at the foot of the bird table. Late afternoon was a good time to eat because the birds were settling for the night and there was a whole day of pickings to be had.

‘Aren’t you tired of seeds?’ asked Smudge.  He was sitting in the tree crunching a hazel nut.
‘I had some cheese earlier, but I didn’t care for it,’ said Raymond.
‘I know where we can get something more substantial,’ said Smudge.

Himself had left a gap at the bottom of the garage door again and the pals squashed themselves under.

‘I don’t see it,’ said Raymond looking round.
‘See what?’ said Smudge.
‘The bicycle built for two.’
‘It’s just a song,’ sneered Smudge.

Raymond was annoyed that Smudge was such a know-it-all. He felt stupid sometimes, but the squirrel was his best friend, his only friend, because Orange Cat who was watching them through the window didn’t count.

‘Look here,’ said Smudge. Against the stepladder leaned a large lumpy bag.
‘What’s in it?’ asked Raymond.
‘Potatoes,’ answered Smudge. ‘The farmer brought them yesterday. Fresh as anything.’

Raymond sniffed the bag. It was made from thick layered paper. This was going to be easy.

‘We’re a team, you and me,’ said Smudge, as Raymond began to nibble a small hole, which became a medium-size hole and then a huge hole in the bottom of the bag. A single potato, round and hard, dropped out onto the cement floor. Smudge picked it up and headed to the door.

‘You chomp; I’ll carry,’ he said.

They worked quickly and before long they had built a small pile of stolen spuds beside the oil tank. 

‘That’ll last us all summer,’ said Smudge. 

Raymond did not like to admit to his friend that he did not know what a potato was, much less how it tasted. He licked soil from the surface of one and spat it out. 

‘No,’ said Smudge, ‘you have to bite into it. We’ll eat one for supper later.’ 

But just at that moment Missus Daisy was also thinking about supper for her visitors.

‘We’ve got some lovely Comber earlies,’ she announced, trundling out to the garage. You could hear the screech for miles.

‘My potatoes! Look at what that filthy rat's gone and done!’

Himself was at her side in seconds, two tan skinned boys in tow.

‘Right lads,’ he said reaching for the gardening implements, ‘we’ll flush the rascal out.’

The boys were excited.

‘They talk funny; are they foreign?’ whispered Raymond, watching them beating the life out of the budding camellias with a trowel and a gardening fork.

‘Australian, probably,’ said Smudge. ‘Now that’s an accent!’

Himself was armed with a long handled hoe. He was advancing with it thrust out in front of him like a spear and he was getting much too close for comfort.  Smudge had long since taken to the trees. So much for friendship, thought Raymond. The whole stealing potatoes thing was his idea in the first place!

‘It’s like a hunt,’ said the younger boy.

‘I’m sorry I can’t offer you elephants and lions like you’re used to,’ Himself said, ‘but this fellow is just as dangerous.’

Raymond beamed with pride. Dangerous, was he? He’d show them dangerous! The older boy must have had a sixth sense because he was creeping through the bushes towards Raymond’s nest. Instead of making his escape into the shuck, Raymond lurked among last year’s fallen leaves and waited for the boy to reach out his trowel and poke the cardboard box.

‘I’ve found something,’ shouted Bastian, ‘and here’s some potatoes.’

With that, Raymond sprang forward and sank his sharp teeth into the back of the child’s hand. Now it was the boy’s turn to wail.

‘He bit me! Something bit me!’

Raymond scurried off into the field while a mummy’s voice reassured her sobbing son and Missus Daisy ran for the antiseptic lotion.

‘Ha!’ chuckled Raymond. ‘Round two to me.’

He gave a leap of delight and was instantly sorry. Riding the thermals above him was a big brown bird, its talons spread like knives and it was looking straight at him…