Free Selby Surfs by Duncan Ball Page A

one. I invented a whole new system based on adifferent principle. It’s a real doozey, if I do say so myself. Almost no one could get the tops off. And Tricky Twist loved it!’ Dr Trifle said proudly.
    ‘Oh, I give up. This silly bottle top is making my headache worse,’ Mrs Trifle said putting it back in the medicine cabinet. ‘Goodness me! We have to be at Aunt Jetty’s garden party straight away. You’d better change those grubby clothes and get into some respectable ones.’
    Selby sneezed three sneezes as the Trifles drove away. He had a heavy cold and he felt terrible. His throat was sore, he had a fever, and he’d sneezed his way through a whole box of tissues.
    ‘I hate being sick,’ he thought. ‘When Dr Trifle is sick he gets to lie around and Mrs Trifle brings him lots of hot drinks and goodies to eat. Nobody ever does that for me. I just have to suffer. It’s not fair.’
    Selby sneezed his way through the last of the tissues and then looked in the medicine cabinet.
    ‘Now where’s some medicine to stop my nose from running? Crumbs, there’s nothing here,’ Selby thought. ‘I know, I’ll ring thechemist shop and see if I can get them to bring some runny nose medicine.’
    Selby picked up the telephone and dialled.
    ‘I’ll pretend I’m Mrs Trifle,’ he thought. ‘With a cold like this I won’t even have to imitate her voice because everyone sounds weird when they have a cold.’
    ‘Hello, Kline and Vine Pharmacy, Barry Kline speaking,’ the voice said. ‘How may I help you?’
    Selby cleared his throat and then said, ‘This is Mrs Trifle,’ only it came out sounding more like ‘Dizziz bizziz Trifle.’
    ‘I beg your pardon? Oh, Mrs Trifle! What a strange voice you have.’
    ‘Bardon be but I hab a bizerable code.’
    ‘I beg your pardon?’
    ‘I bill.’
    ‘You bill? I’m sorry but I don’t quite understand. Did you say that you
bill?
You don’t bill us — we bill you.’
    ‘I said, “Ibe … ill".’
    ‘Oh,
I’m ill.
I mean, you’re ill. Oh, sorry to hear it, Mrs Trifle. What can we do for you?’
    ‘I deed sub bedicine.’

    ‘You … deed … sub … bedicine,’ the man repeated very slowly. ‘If it’s
deeds
you want you should be ringing an estate agent, not a chemist.’
    ‘Dough.’
    ‘Did you say, “dough"?’
    ‘Dough — I mean yes.’
    ‘We don’t have dough here, Mrs Trifle. Have you thought of ringing the bakery? Or if it’s a sub you’re after you could ring the navy,’ the chemist added with a giggle. ‘Oh, sorry, that was a terrible joke.’
    Selby could feel himself getting hotter and hotter as he struggled to make himself understood. He spoke as slowly and clearly as he could.
    ‘I said, I … deed … sub … bedicine.’
    ‘You’re sick in bed, is that it?’
    ‘Dough. I … deed … sub … bills.’
    ‘You’re still ill, is that it? Well, you can’t expect to get better in a minute.’
    ‘You don’t understab —
I deed bills!’
    ‘Bills.’
    ‘Diddle dings do put in by bouth.’
    ‘"Diddle dings do put in by bouth.” Hmmm,’ the chemist said.
    ‘Bills! Bills!’
    ‘Oh,
pills!
Why didn’t you say so? What sort of pills do you want?’
    ‘He understands me at last!’ Selby thought. ‘Now let’s see if he can understand this:
I deed somedink do keeb by doze frub ruddick.
‘
    ‘Now you’ve really lost me, Mrs Trifle.’
    ‘I hab a ruddy doze!’
    ‘Ruddy toes? Let’s see now, ruddy — that means red, doesn’t it? Red toes. I know, you’ve got athlete’s foot! We can give you some powder for that.’
    ‘Dough! — I bead, degative. Ibe got a code in da doze.’
    ‘Code? I’m not a spy, I’m a chemist,’ Mr Kline chuckled. ‘Or do you want to doze? Maybe you need some sleeping pills. You’ll need a prescription for those, I’m afraid.’
    ‘You don’t understab be,’ Selby said with a sneeze.
    ‘Someone stabbed you?’
    ‘I hab a code in da doze!
‘ Selby squealed.
    ‘I know! You’ve got a cold