Bertie And The Hairdresser Who Ruled The World - Plot & Excerpts
‘Which house is it?’ she asked. ‘The thatched cottage through the trees. We can get into the field behind through that stile. Watch for the nettles. And the cows.’ Buttercup lowed a cheery welcome as they crept along the hedge until they could peer into the garden. The cottage sat with chocolate box perfection amongst its colourful flowers. ‘This is very nice,’ murmured Doreen, ‘but how are we going to lure Bertie away?’ ‘Shouldn’t be a problem – it looks like Wilf is having a snooze. Some bloody guard he turned out to be!’ Through the open sitting room window, the distant rattle of his steady snore wafted out across the garden. Wilf slumped on the sofa, head back, eyes closed, book open but abandoned on his chest. Bertie sat at his shoulder preening what few hairs remained on his sparsely-covered crown. The sight was rather comical. With roles reversed, it appeared the guarded was doing a substantially better job than the guard. To Doreen’s surprise, Celeste whistled shrilly – and Bertie’s head instantly came up at the sound.
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