Burly & Grum and The Birthday Surprise Page 3

CHAPTER 2

  Rummaging amongst the pile of goodies Mike had brought along, Burly found a hammock and hung it up between two palm trees. The trees bowed slightly under his weight as he clambered in but then they stood firm and now he was swinging gently and licking a double vanilla ice cream with a chocolate flake and fudge sauce on top, feeling very at peace with the world.

  Grum had donned a wide brimmed straw hat and was striding along the beach swinging a bucket and spade. Everything was new and exciting and although he wasn’t sure where to start or what to do he was determined not to miss anything. He turned and waved to Burly. Burly raised a paw in acknowledgement. He’d join Grum later, when he’d finished his ice cream and had a little nap.

  Grum walked into the sea but only up to his ankles as groblins don’t like water very much - the sea was cool and refreshing and, where it met the sand, it felt very much like the mud he loved wallowing in so much. He curled his toes squidging the sand between them and felt very happy. A large crab scuttled sideways up to him and smacked into his foot. Grum looked down and his eyes widened with interest, he bent down and picked the crab up with both hands. It was huge, the size of a dinner plate with long legs sticking out either side and two large claws at the front.

  “You are so ugly...” Grum said admiringly. “What are you?” He’d never seen anything like the creature before and tapped the top of the shell loudly as if he were knocking on a door.

  The crab snapped its front claws at Grum. “Oi, stop that!” it said crossly. “And what are you doing on my beach? Go away!”

  “Your beach?” Grum asked, surprised. “Mike didn’t say anything about the beach belonging to anyone.”

  “Well it’s mine and I’m fed up of strange things coming along and making a mess. You and your fat furry friend - go away or else!” He snapped his claws angrily again.

  “I’m a groblin, name’s Grum,” said Grum completely ignoring the crab’s threat. “Grum P. Groblin of the Griff clan. You’ve got a great place and we’re staying here for the day - it’s my friend’s birthday and we’re having a party, you can come along if you like.”

  The crab frowned, this wasn’t going the way he thought it would. This green animal wasn’t the slightest bit scared of him, he must be losing his touch. “Put me down!” he demanded.

  “Not until you tell me what you are and what your name is.”

  The crab frantically waved all his legs but nothing happened. He looked down at the sand far below him and sighed. “I’m a King Crab,” he said with as much dignity as possible. “You can call me King.”

  “Fair enough,” said Grum shrugging his shoulders. “If I put you down will you show me around? I’ve never been to a beach before.”

  “Never... never been to a beach before?” King spluttered. “What have you been doing with your life? Why, the beach, the sea is the only place to live. The only place!” He waggled his legs crossly. “Put me down and I will show you the splendours of my beach.”

  “You’re not going to run away?”

  King was offended. “I am a crab of my word,” he said pompously.

  Grum bent down and placed King carefully on the sand. The crab shook himself. “If we walk along the beach that way, I can show you the best place to make a sandcastle and where you can find the best shells.”

  “A sandcastle?” queried Grum. “Shells?”

  “Oh for goodness sakes, you really don’t know anything do you?” said King. “Just follow me and bring your bucket.”

  Grum and King were being watched closely by Tara and her father. They’d been making their way down the small headland path after Gruel when they spotted Grum walking along the beach and had stopped for a closer look.

  “Is he talking to that crab?” Tara asked.

  “Looks like it,” her father replied, adjusting the binoculars to get a better look.

  “I’ve never seen a bear help himself to ice cream and then go to sleep in a hammock before,” she commented. “D’you reckon we’re on, like, a magic island?”

  Her father laughed. “It’s a man wearing a bear outfit,” he said, “that’s all.”

  “You said Gruel was wearing a disguise until you caught him last week and tried to take his ‘mask’ off,” Tara pointed out.

  “Yes, well, that was an honest mistake young lady. Funnily enough until then I didn’t think green creatures existed, but one thing I do know, he won’t surprise me again and escape like he did last time. Green or not, he’ll still go to prison for stealing all that gold.”

  “So d’you reckon that’s his friend or something?” Tara asked pointing at Grum.

  “It’s probably a relation of some kind - it can’t be a coincidence there are two of them on one island. And if he’s related to Gruel then we have to presume that he’s dangerous as well - probably a member of his gang.”

  “But he seems nice,” said Tara. “He made friends with that crab - you’d have eaten it.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” her father commented. “I didn’t have time for breakfast and that is one big, juicy crab.”

  “I bet there’s lots of food in the bear’s ice cream van,” said Tara.

  “I told you, it’s a man dressed in a suit - bears don’t wear sunglasses for one thing,” said her father.

  “He’s scratching himself,” said Tara pointing at Burly who, on the way to the ice cream truck, had sat down to give himself a good scratch with one of his massive hindquarters. “He’s kind of cuddly really.”

  “Come on young lady,” said her father. “Who or what they are is one mystery we’re not staying around to solve. We’ve got to find Gruel, arrest him, get the gold and then I’ve got to get you home in time for your tea or your mother is not going to be happy.”

  Even though he looked relaxed as he scratched himself, Burly had that sudden feeling that he was being watched and the fur on the back of his neck prickled. Wild animals are born with good instincts or they get eaten and Burly’s were honed to perfection from living in the Great Forest. He stood up on his hindquarters outside the ice cream van and smelt the air. Nothing seemed wrong and the cove was a scene of tranquillity, even Grum was quiet, building a sandcastle with his new friend. Burly frowned, Mike had promised there was nothing on the island that could lead to trouble, but he wasn’t so sure. He dropped to his front paws, adjusted his sunglasses and strolled down the beach.

  Grum was on his knees scooping spadefuls of sand into his bucket and then tipping the bucket upside down and letting the sand fall out. Burly wondered what the point was.

  “Hi Grum,” he said, “who’s your friend?”

  “I can speak for myself,” said a grumpy voice. “Name’s King and I own this beach.”

  “Nice to meet you King,” said Burly who was always polite. “Have you lived here long?”

  “All my life,” said King. “There isn’t a better place in the world to live.”

  “He’s a crab,” said Grum, smacking the bottom of the bucket with his spade and watching as the sand fell in a heap, “and he’s teaching me how to make a sandcastle, a really big one so he can live in it.”

  “Well, a King’s got to have a castle,” said King. There was silence for a moment and then the crab made a wheezy sneezy noise. The wheezy sneeze went on and on until the crab drew breath and slapped the sand with one of his claws and Burly and Grum realised that King was laughing.