Paddington Goes To Town

“’Ush!” cried Jonathan suddenly. “I bet he thinks being an usher means he has to keep ’ush during the service.”

“Oh dear,” said Mrs Brown, as Jonathan’s words sank in. “I do hope he doesn’t tell Deirdre to be quiet when she’s making her responses. You know what a quick temper she’s got and I expect she’ll be all on edge as it is.”

Mrs Brown began to look somewhat less happy about the whole affair as she turned the matter over in her mind, but at that moment the shrill sound of the telephone bell broke into her thoughts.

“It’s Harold Price,” she hissed, putting her hand over the receiver. “He wants to know if it’s all right. What shall I say?”

Mr Brown looked up at the ceiling as the sound of running water came from somewhere overhead. “Whatever we say it had better not be ‘no’,” he replied. “Not at this stage. We shall never hear the last of it if Paddington’s had a bath for nothing. Especially one he’s volunteered for.

“All the same,” he continued, giving his suit a passing flick with the clothes-brush, “I can’t help feeling it isn’t the best of ways to start married life. I don’t think I should have been very keen on having a bear as an usher at my wedding – even if I had been let down.”

Mr Brown wasn’t over enthusiastic about weddings at the best of times, and the thought of attending one at which Paddington was lending a paw filled him with foreboding.

Nevertheless, even Mr Brown’s fears were gradually set at rest as the day wore on, for Paddington’s behaviour seemed beyond reproach.

When they arrived at the church he was busily engaged with a long and important-looking list of names which enabled him to check the invitations and sort out the friends of the bride from those of the groom, and as he led them down the aisle towards their allotted places they couldn’t help noticing how spick and span he looked. His fur had a newly brushed, glistening appearance, and his whiskers were so shiny they made the large white carnation which he wore tied round his neck look almost dowdy by comparison.

If the Browns had any criticism at all it was that he was taking his job a little too seriously. Jonathan’s earlier theory proved all too correct and as soon as anyone so much as parted their lips he hurried up to them with his paw raised and gave them a hard stare. Some of his stares, which had been handed down to him by his Aunt Lucy in Peru, were very powerful indeed and in no time at all it would have been possible to have heard the proverbial pin drop.

Even the vicar looked most impressed when he came into the church and saw the attentive state of his congregation.

“I don’t see how we can explain now,” hissed Mr Brown. “It’s a bit difficult when you’re not allowed to say anything.”

The others contented themselves with a nod of agreement, for at that moment Paddington, having carefully checked the list of guests for the last time to make certain everyone was present, settled himself down in a nearby pew in order to consult his programme and enjoy the forthcoming ceremony in comfort.

In any case, they soon had other matters to occupy their minds, for a moment or so later Mr Price and his best man arrived and took up their places near the front.

They both looked unusually agitated, even for such a nerve-racking occasion as a wedding, and Mr Price in particular kept jumping up and down like a jack-in-the-box. He seemed to want to speak to Paddington, but each time he turned round and opened his mouth Paddington put a paw firmly to his lips.

“I don’t remember Harold having that nervous twitch before,” whispered Mrs Brown, uneasily.

“I think it’s got something to do with the ring,” whispered Judy, passing on what little bit of information she’d been able to glean from those in front. “They’re having to make do with a brass one off Mr Price’s bedroom curtains. Apparently the real one’s disappeared.”

“Disappeared!” echoed Mrs Brown. For a moment she quite forgot Paddington’s presence in the nearby pew, but as it happened she needn’t have worried, for Paddington seemed even more affected than anyone by this latest piece of news. His whiskers sagged, his face took on a sudden woebegone expression, and even the carnation round his neck seemed to wilt in sympathy.

“Deirdre’s not going to be very pleased when she hears,” murmured Mr Brown. “I shouldn’t like to be the person who’s got it!”

“Ssh!” hissed Mrs Brown. “Here she comes!”

The Browns fell silent as there was a rustle of silk behind them and Deirdre, resplendent in a snow-white wedding gown, sailed past on the arm of Mr Flint.

Only Paddington failed to join in the general gasps of admiration which greeted her entrance. For some reason best known to himself he appeared to be engaged in a kind of life and death struggle on the floor of the church. Several times he was lost to view completely and each time he rose again he was breathing more and more heavily and his expression looked, if possible, unhappier than before.

However, unhappy though it was, it seemed almost joyful by comparison with the grim one which came over Miss Flint’s face a moment or so later when she took in the whispered aside from her husband-to-be.

For one brief moment indeed, it looked as if for two pins Miss Flint would have called the whole thing off, and when it came to the time for her to say “I do”, there was quite a nasty pause before she managed to get the words out.

When the ceremony finally came to an end both she and Harold hurried towards the vestry in order to sign the register rather as if they had a bus to catch, and not a bit like two people who had just agreed to spend the rest of their lives together.

“I’m glad I’m not in Harold’s shoes,” said Mr Brown, as the door closed behind them. “Deirdre looked as black as thunder.”

“Ssh!” began Mrs Brown.”We don’t want Pad…”

She was about to say that one upset was enough and they didn’t want to add to the confusion by having Paddington take up his ’ushing duties again, but as she looked round the church it was only to discover that Paddington was nowhere in sight.

“There he is!” cried Judy suddenly, as she looked back over her shoulder.

Turning round to follow her gaze the rest of the Browns were just in time to catch a glimpse of a familiar figure hurrying up the aisle in the direction of the entrance doors.

“Perhaps he wants to be in the front of the photograph,” said Mrs Brown hopefully, as Paddington, after casting an anxious glance over his shoulder, picked up his suitcase and hat from behind a nearby pillar and disappeared from view. “He’s always very keen on anything like that for his scrapbook, and he looks as if he’s got something on his mind.”

“Hmm,” said Mrs Bird. “That’s as may be. But if you ask me that young bear’s mind is not the only thing he’s got something on.”

Mrs Bird’s sharp eyes had noticed a momentary gleam from one of Paddington’s paws as he’d gone out into the sunshine. It was the second time within the space of a few minutes she’d spotted the strange phenomenon. The first occasion had been during the service itself, when the vicar had asked the assembly if anyone present knew of any good reason why Deirdre and Harold shouldn’t get married. Paddington had half raised his paw and then, much to her relief, he’d changed his mind at the last moment.

Mrs Bird was good at adding two and two together as far as Paddington was concerned, but wisely she kept the result of her calculations to herself for the time being.

In any case, before the others had time to question her on the subject a rather worried-looking churchwarden hurried up the aisle and stopped at their pew in order to whisper something in Mr Brown’s ear.

Mr Brown rose to his feet. “I think we’re wanted in the vestry,” he announced ominously. “It sounds rather urgent.”

Mr Brown was tempted to add that the churchwarden had also asked if Paddington could accompany them, but in the event he decided not to add to their worries.

All the same, as he led the way into the vestry he began to look more and more worried, and if he’d been able to see through the stone walls into the churchyard outside, the chances are that he would have felt even more so.

For Paddington was in trouble. Quite serious trouble. One way and another he was used to life having its ups and downs, but as he held his paw up to the light in order to examine it more closely even he had to admit he couldn’t remember a time when his fortunes had taken quite such a downward plunge.

Sucking it had made no difference at all; jamming it in the rails which surrounded the churchyard only seemed to have made matters worse; and even the application of a liberal smear of marmalade from an emergency jar which he kept in his suitcase had been to no avail.

As far as paws went, his own was looking unusually smart and well cared for. Apart from the remains of the marmalade it wouldn’t have disgraced an advertisement for fur coats in one of Mrs Brown’s glossy magazines. Even the pad had an unusual glow about it, not unlike that of a newly polished shoe.

However, it wasn’t the pad or its surroundings which caused Paddington’s look of dismay, but the sight of a small gold wedding ring poking out from beneath his fur; and the longer he looked at it the more unhappy he became.

He’d found the ring lying on the dressing table when he’d gone to Harold Price’s room in order to pick up the wedding list, and at the time it had gone on one of his claws easily enough. But now it was well and truly stuck, and nothing he could do would make it budge one way or the other.

In the past he had always kept on very good terms with Mr Price. Even so, he couldn’t begin to imagine what his friend would have to say about the matter. Nor, when he considered it, could he picture Deirdre exactly laughing her head off when she heard the news that her wedding ring was stuck round a bend on a bear’s paw. From past experience he knew that Deirdre had a very sharp tongue indeed when even quite minor things went wrong with her bacon slicer, and he shuddered to think what she would have to say about the present situation.

As if to prove how right he was, his thoughts were broken into at that very moment, as the sound of Deirdre’s voice raised in anger floated out through the open window above his head.

By climbing on top of his suitcase and standing on tiptoe, Paddington was just able to see inside the vestry and when he did so he nearly fell over backwards again in alarm, for not only was Deirdre there, laying down the law to a most unhappy-looking Mr Price; but the best man, sundry relatives, the Browns and quite a number of other important-looking people were there as well.

Indeed, so great was the crowd and so loud the argument, it gave the impression that more people were attending the signing of the register than had been present at the actual ceremony.

Paddington was a hopeful bear at heart but the more he listened to Deirdre, the more his spirits dropped and the more he realised the only thing they had in common was a wish that he’d never been invited to the wedding in the first place, let alone act as an usher.

After a moment or two he clambered back down again, took a deep breath, picked up his suitcase and headed towards a large red box just outside the churchyard.

It wasn’t often that Paddington made a telephone call – for one thing he always found it a bit difficult with paws – but he did remember once reading a poster in a phone box about what to do in times of an emergency and how it was possible to obtain help without paying.