Paddington Abroad

“It’s… it’s something we give you for letting us borrow your money,” he said. “The longer you leave it in the more you get.”

“Well, my money’s been in since just after Christmas,” exclaimed Paddington. “That’s nearly six months.”

“Ten pence,” said the man firmly.

Paddington watched in a daze as the man made an entry in his book and then pushed a five-pound note and some silver across the counter. “There you are,” he said briskly. “Five pounds and twenty-five pence.”

Paddington looked suspiciously at the note and then consulted a piece of paper he held in his paw. His eyes grew larger and larger as he compared the two.

“I think you must have made a mistake,” he exclaimed. “This isn’t my note.”

“A mistake?” said the man stiffly. “We of Floyds never make mistakes.”

“But it’s got a different number,” said Paddington hotly.

“A different number?” repeated the man.

“Yes,” said Paddington. “And it said on mine that you promised to pay bear five pounds on demand.”

“Not bear,” said the assistant. “Bearer. It says that on all notes. Besides,” he continued, “you don’t get the same note back that you put in. I expect yours is miles away by now if it’s anywhere at all. It might even have been burnt if it was an old one. They often burn old notes when they’re worn out.”

“Burnt?” repeated Paddington in a dazed voice. “You’ve burnt my note?”

“I didn’t say it had been,” said the man, looking more and more confused. “I only said it might have been.”

Paddington took a deep breath and gave the assistant a hard stare. It was one of the extra special hard ones which his Aunt Lucy had taught him and which he kept for emergencies.

“I think I should like to see Mr Floyd,” he exclaimed.

“Mr Floyd?” repeated the assistant. He mopped his brow nervously as he looked anxiously over Paddington’s shoulder at the queue which was already beginning to form. There were some nasty murmurings going on at the back which he didn’t like the sound of at all. “I’m afraid there isn’t a Mr Floyd,” he said.

“We have a Mr Trimble,” he added hastily, as Paddington gave him an even harder stare. “He’s the manager. I think perhaps I’d better fetch him – he’ll know what to do.”

Paddington stared indignantly after the retreating figure of the clerk as he made his way towards a door marked MANAGER. The more he saw of things the less he liked the look of them. Not only did his note have a different number but he had just caught sight of the dates on the coins and they were quite different to those on the ones he had left. Apart from that his own coins had been highly polished, whereas these were old and very dull.

Paddington climbed down off his suitcase and pushed his way through the crowd with a determined expression on his face. Although he was only small, Paddington was a bear with a strong sense of right and wrong, especially when it came to money matters, and he felt it was high time he took matters into his own paws.

After he had made his way out of the bank Paddington hurried down the road in the direction of a red kiosk. Locked away in the secret compartment of his suitcase there was a note with some special instructions Mrs Bird had written out for him in case of an emergency, together with ten pence. Thinking things over as he went along, Paddington decided it was very much a matter of an emergency – in fact he had a job to remember when he’d had a bigger one – and was glad when at long last the telephone kiosk came into view and he saw it was empty.

“I don’t know what’s going on at the bank this morning,” said Mrs Brown as she closed the front door. “There was an enormous crowd outside when I came past.”

“Perhaps there’s been a robbery,” said Mrs Bird. “You read of such nasty goings-on these days.”

“I don’t think it was a robbery,” said Mrs Brown vaguely. “It was more like an emergency of some kind. The police were there and an ambulance and the fire-brigade.”

“H’mm!” said Mrs Bird. “Well, I hope for all our sakes it isn’t anything serious. Paddington’s got all his money there and if there has been a raid we shall never hear the last of it.”

Mrs Bird paused as she was speaking and a thoughtful expression came over her face. “Talking of Paddington, have you seen him since he went out?” she asked.