That’s what’s happened,” said Mr Tipp gloomily, when Sara, Surinder and I went over on Saturday. “Shortly after you left the other day, a silver car pulled up and Mr Gripe from the council knocked on my door. ‘That figure on your roof is dangerous’, he said. ‘It might fall and hurt someone. It must be removed’.” “Didn’t you tell him about the wet sand in the wellies?” I asked. Mr Tipp nodded. “I offered to replace it with concrete, but it was no use. Bob still had to come down. I’ll have to find another use for him. Perhaps I’ll put him at the gate to wave at passers-by… But I promised to show you some of my inventions, didn’t I. Would you like to come inside?” “Yes, please,” we chorused. The four of us headed for the house and stopped outside. “I’ll just ring for the butler,” smiled Mr Tipp. “This door used to belong to a ruined castle before I rescued it. The door, that is. Couldn’t get the castle into the trailer.” He yanked on the iron bell and this time there was a loud clank, followed by some slow, scraping metal noises.
What do You think about The Treasure Of Mr Tipp (2009)?
