Free Nanny Piggins and the Pursuit of Justice by R. A. Spratt Page A

an easy way to make twenty-thousand dollars. But Nanny Piggins seemed even more chipper than usual as she set up a miniature circus tent on the footpath outside the front of the house.
    ‘Michael, run and fetch the “Nanny Wanted” sign from the garage,’ said Nanny Piggins.
    ‘You’re not going to hire a new nanny, are you?’ asked a horrified Michael.
    ‘Of course not. I want to make my own sign,’ explained Nanny Piggins.
    As soon as Michael returned with the old weather-beaten placard, Nanny Piggins repainted it in exotic lettering:
    Madame Piggins Fortune Teller
    $5
    Enter if you dare
    She then put on her best silk dressing-gown, wrapped a purple scarf around her head, took the statuette of Santa out of a snow globe so it looked like a crystal ball, and then disappeared into the tent. The children stood outside, wondering what would happen next.
    ‘Well, come on,’ called Nanny Piggins. ‘You’vegot to come in here too. You’re my assistants.’
    The children breathed a sigh of relief. They might not think fortune telling was a brilliant money-making scheme but they were pretty sure watching Nanny Piggins telling fortunes would be brilliantly entertaining. So they sat inside the tent, playing cards with Nanny Piggins and waiting for their first customer.
    Seven hours later, Nanny Piggins did not seem at all perturbed that there had not been a single person enter the tent. ‘It always takes a while to establish a small business,’ she said wisely, as she won her one hundred and thirty-seventh game of snap in a row. They had almost forgotten why they were crouching on the floor of a miniature circus tent when a young woman entered.
    ‘I was just on my way home when I saw your sign,’ said the woman. ‘You’ve got a front charging people five dollars to tell them a load of malarky.’
    Nanny Piggins looked the woman up and down, sizing her up. ‘As you are my first customer I am prepared to offer you a discount. I shall tell you three things from your future for the bargain price of $4.99.’
    ‘All right,’ said the woman, ‘I could do with a laugh, and my mum is not expecting me home foranother half hour so I might as well.’
    The young woman sat down and held out her palm for Nanny Piggins to read.
    ‘Oh I don’t read those,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘I rub heads.’
    ‘What?’ exclaimed Derrick. He had not seen that one coming.
    ‘If you want to know what is going on in someone’s brain you can’t tell by looking at their hand,’ said Nanny Piggins, as though this was perfectly obvious. ‘You’ve got to go right to the source and rub their head.’ So Nanny Piggins leaned across the table, grabbing the woman’s head between her trotters, and rubbed it. ‘Hmmm, interesting,’ muttered Nanny Piggins.
    ‘What is it?’ asked the woman scornfully. ‘Does my dead granny want to tell me to wrap up warm this winter?’
    ‘I’m a fortune teller, not a psychic. Do pay attention,’ scolded Nanny Piggins as she continued to rub the woman’s head. ‘Okay, I can see it clearly. You are going to . . .’ Nanny Piggins paused here for dramatic effect.
    ‘Yes?’ said the young woman, who could not help but be curious.
    ‘Lose a button from your cardigan,’ said NannyPiggins, ‘and . . . bang your head on a frozen fish. And . . . meet a man who is always wet.’
    Nanny Piggins then let go of the woman’s head and sat back with an air of triumph about her.
    ‘What?’ said the young woman.
    ‘I have made my predictions for your future,’ said Nanny Piggins with finality.
    ‘You’ve talked a load of old hogwash,’ said the woman.
    ‘That will be $4.99 please,’ said Nanny Piggins, holding out her trotter.
    ‘If you think I’m going to pay for that utter –’ began the young woman.
    ‘Oh dear,’ said Nanny Piggins, suddenly with an edge of menace in her voice. ‘Michael, I think you had better fetch Boris.’
    ‘Who’s Boris?’ asked the young woman.
    ‘The giant bear who