Free Bertie and the Hairdresser Who Ruled the World by Mike A Vickers Page A

The Kneeling Man would be equally disappointed.
    â€˜Hello, sailor,’ he chipped in helpfully, feeling the silence needed filling. He peered at Celeste, a little concerned at her pensive frown. She chewed at her lower lip, a sure sign of doubt, but Bertie had absolute faith in his mum and remained warmed and comforted by her presence. His love for her was simple and unshakable, but he was also well tuned to her moods. She was definitely unsure, as if she wanted help. The Kneeling Man usually made her smile, particularly during their complex mating rituals, but he, too, was on edge. He also seemed to be in some considerable pain, and wriggled in discomfort. Perhaps they both needed a helping hand with whatever problem concerned them, maybe a few words of encouragement. He thought hard and eventually came up with two solutions.
    The first involved a really large bowl of creamy, plump Brazil nuts followed by a pear or two. Bertie dwelled on the image. Yes, that’s what he’d vote for if it was up to him, but somehow he knew on this occasion it wouldn’t help. No, he needed to pursue the second alternative. Mummy and daddy required assistance from another human. Mrs Badham came to mind immediately, but this problem did not seem to involve dusting the house or the immediate deployment of a vacuum cleaner. Gavin next door and his inquisitive cows, perhaps? Again, he pondered for a moment before rejecting Gav and moving on. Sadly, there was not much moving on to do. Bertie’s world was now almost exclusively centred around home life; indeed, few other humans had ever impressed him enough to warrant a place in his memory.
    But there was one. Oh, yes, there was one who had made quite an impression. Grey, thin and unsmiling, easily manipulated, but a good friend nonetheless, this one had helped his mum before, but, most importantly, had also introduced him to Milly. Yes, he well remembered this man.
    â€˜Wilf,’ said Bertie casually, dropping his suggestion into the silence. Celeste and James both stared at him in wide-eyed shock. Goodness, he hadn’t seen that look in a while! Rather missed it, if truth be told. ‘Wilf,’ he repeated, this time with a little more emphasis. Come on, guys, keep up!
    â€˜Wilf!’ exclaimed Celeste, much to Bertie’s relief. It had taken some time, but she seemed to have got the message at last. Bertie sometimes wondered just how these funny little apes had come to rule the planet.
    â€˜Wilf!’ stuttered James. Thank heavens, even The Kneeling Man was catching on. He usually brought up the rear in these matters, being a man and all that. All three exchanged stares. ‘Well cover me in pancake batter and spank me till Shrove Tuesday, I think that’s a damned good idea,’ exclaimed James at last.
    â€˜What a clever boy,’ said Celeste, stroking Bertie’s head. He immediately started purring with pride. Yes, it was good to be the brainy one of the family. ‘He’s the only policeman we know and a damned good one at that. He knows how to be discreet. It wouldn’t be suspicious asking him down to stay for the weekend. Everyone knows we’re friends. We can ask his advice. Do the police do private commissions – you know, sub-contract work?’
    â€˜No, I don’t think so,’ said James. ‘Once you get them officially involved I think you’ll find they are obliged by law to investigate to the fullest extent on behalf of the state.’
    â€˜But they can only start an investigation if they receive a complaint.’
    â€˜That’s one trigger.’
    â€˜Well, maybe we can ask him to have a nose around but not make a complaint.’
    â€˜I don’t know,’ said James pensively. ‘I don’t think it works that way. By anyone’s book, I’ve been assaulted. That’s a crime. Once it’s been reported, off they go full of enthusiasm to boost their clear-up