Free Paddington Here and Now by Michael Bond Page B

was dealing with a seasoned traveler, and an important one at that. Although the customer had arrived on foot, he wondered for a moment if he could be dealing with a television personality planning a forthcoming program, or perhaps some kind of foreign dignitary—a slightly eccentric Indian prince down on his luck, for example. He had never met one wearing a duffle coat before, but there was a first time for everything, and one never knew these days. It paid to be careful.
    “I know it’s a little early in the day,” he said, “but would you care for a glass of champagne while we go through the possibilities?”
    “No thank you,” said Paddington. “I had one once and it tickled my whiskers. I would sooner have a cup of cocoa.”
    The manager’s face fell. “I’m afraid we shall have to wait until our Miss Pringle arrives,” he said, looking at his watch. “She usually collects the milk on her way in. We were rushed off our feet yesterday,” he explained, “what with everyone wanting to make a quick getaway for the Christmas holiday. I told the staff they could come in half an hour later than usual.” He reached out toward a rack laden with colored brochures.
    “Have you ever thought about visiting South America? The Peruvian Andes, for example? We have a tour that includes a boat trip on Lake Titicaca. As I’m sure you know, it’s the highest one in the world.”
    “If we go to Peru,” said Paddington, “I would sooner visit the Home for Retired Bears in Lima. I haven’t seen my Aunt Lucy for a long time, and it will be a nice surprise for her.”
    The manager scanned through the brochure. “I’m afraid it doesn’t mention anything about aHome for Retired Bears,” he said, “but I’m sure our tour guide will be more than willing to offer advice when you get there.
    “Alternatively”—he reached for another brochure—“how would you feel about visiting India?” He held it aloft for Paddington’s benefit. “Have you ever seen the Taj Mahal by moonlight?”
    Paddington peered at the picture. “No,” he said, “but last year I was taken to see the Christmas lights at Crumbold and Ferns.”
    “If I may be so bold,” said the manager, “there is simply no comparison. In fact, the two can hardly be mentioned in the same breath.”
    “I didn’t have to wait for a full moon to see Crumbold and Ferns’s lights,” said Paddington firmly. “They were on day and night. And they kept changing color. Besides, I usually go to bed early.”
    “If you spend more than two nights in India,” said the manager, not to be outdone, “I could make sure you get a free elephant ride thrown in.”
    “I don’t think Mrs. Bird would be very keen on that,” replied Paddington. “She likes a wheel at all four corners.”
    “I can see I am dealing with a young gentleman of taste and discernment,” said the manager, trying to mask his disappointment. “Perhaps I might tempt you with something nearer home. How about a visit to Italy and the Leaning Tower of Pisa?”
    “I don’t think Mrs. Bird would like that very much either,” said Paddington. “She was very worried last year when Mr. Brown found a crack in the kitchen ceiling.”
    “Perhaps before you reach a final decision, you might care to bring the lady in?” suggested the manager. “I shall be more than happy to go through the itinerary with her.”
    “It’s meant to be a surprise,” said Paddington, “and Mrs. Bird doesn’t like surprises.”
    “Oh, dear,” said the manager through gritted teeth. “I trust she doesn’t object to flying.”
    “When we went to France by airplane,” said Paddington, “she kept her eyes closed during takeoff and landing. She said if God had meant us to fly, he would have given us wings.”
    “Ah,” said the manager, looking slightly dazed. “I suppose the dear lady does have a point.”
    He tried dipping his toes in the water again. “Would Sir be thinking of traveling first or club