Paddington 2: The Story of the Movie: Movie tie-in. Anna Wilson

and happy for the first time in a long while.

      “Guess what, Paddington?” she said. “The steam fair’s coming to town! I’m going to go along tonight and write about it for my newspaper.”

      “Who’s going to want to read about that?” Jonathan muttered.

      Judy curled her lip at her brother. “Everyone!” she said. “They travel the world in an old steam train. I thought you’d love it,” she added.

      “I do, but don’t tell anyone, OK? Not cool,” said Jonathan.

      Judy opened her mouth to comment but her mother came into the room just in time to prevent a row.

      “Why don’t we all go?” asked Mrs Brown cheerily.

      “Good idea,” said Mr Brown, coming in behind his wife and grabbing a piece of toast.

      Mrs Brown smiled lovingly at her husband. “Your father’s a dab hand at the coconut shy,” she said to her children. “‘Bull’s-eye Brown’ they used to call him.”

      Judy rolled her eyes.

      “Ooh, not any more,” said Henry, shaking his head. “Coconuts are a young man’s game.” He mimed throwing a ball and immediately winced as he felt a twinge in his shoulder.

      Paddington was watching him with interest. “Well, I think you’re in great shape for a man your age, Mr Brown,” he said.

      “Thank you, Paddington,” said Mr Brown with feeling. Then he did a double-take. “Hang on,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “How old do you think I am?”

      Paddington wasn’t sure about being put on the spot like this. Bears were not very good at guessing people’s ages. “Oh … about eighty?”

      “Eighty?” Mr Brown spluttered.

      “At least!” said Paddington with growing confidence. He pushed back his chair and made to leave the table, putting a marmalade sandwich under his hat for emergencies.

      Mrs Bird turned round from the stove. “Just a minute, wee bear. I thought I told you to clean behind your ears?” she asked, pretending to be stern.

      Paddington frowned. “But I did, Mrs Bird. I—”

      Mrs Bird leaned over and reached behind Paddington’s right ear. “I don’t know …” she said. “I think you missed a bit. What’s that I can see?” And she pulled back, revealing a shiny fifty-pence piece.

      Paddington’s eyes widened. “My goodness me. I wonder how that got in there?”

      Mrs Bird handed him the coin. “Best keep it somewhere safe, dearie,” she said with a smile.

      “I will,” said Paddington, slipping it into his duffle-coat pocket. “Have a good day, everyone! I must dash as I am on a Very Important Mission today.”

      As the family waved him off, Mr Brown could still be heard muttering, “Eighty … I ask you!”

      Paddington’s mornings had developed a nice rhythm. He knew everyone in the neighbourhood these days, and could almost set his watch by who he would see on his way to Mr Gruber’s antique shop.

      He stood on the corner of the road, looking out for Mademoiselle Dupont who always cycled by at eight-thirty sharp. Seeing her coming, Paddington called out, “Bonjour, mademoiselle!”

      “Bonjour, Paddington!” said the glamorous lady. She slowed down just enough for him to be able to jump on to the back of her bike, as he did every morning.

      As they sped along, Paddington kept an eye out for Dr Jafri. The doctor was an absent-minded man who left his house at the same time every day – and always forgot his keys. Luckily for him, Paddington was always there to remind him.

      Today was no different from any other day. Dr Jafri was walking out of his front door as Paddington passed by. The door was just about to close on the doctor, locking him out, when Paddington called, “Your keys, Dr Jafri!”

      “Keys?” The doctor frowned and patted his pockets, then realised he’d done it again. “Keys!” he shouted, turning back to catch his door just before it slammed shut. “What would I do without you, Paddington?” he said with a shake of his head.

      “You’re welcome!” said Paddington, raising his hat as he and Mademoiselle Dupont went on their way.

      Next he spotted the Peters sisters – two bubbly Jamaican women who watered their orange plants every morning without fail. And there they were, watering and pruning and sniffing tentatively at the ripening fruit.

      “Good morning, Miss Peters! Miss Peters!” Paddington cried.

      One Miss Peters picked an orange and threw it at Paddington. “Ripe yet?” she asked.

      Paddington gave the fruit an appreciative sniff. “Not yet – Tuesday,” he said, bowling the orange back.

      The sisters thanked him and waved him on his way.

      It was here that Paddington always said goodbye to Mademoiselle Dupont, because their routes diverged. She went on to Knightsbridge whereas Paddington was heading to Mr Gruber’s shop on the Portobello Road.

      “Thank you, mademoiselle!” he said, raising his hat as he jumped from the back of her bike.

      “You’re welcome, monsieur,” she said. “Au revoir!”

      Paddington walked past the Colonel who was on his way back from the newspaper kiosk where he went every day to buy his morning paper. Paddington, ever cheery, shouted, “Glorious day, Colonel!”

      The Colonel was a gloomy, dishevelled man with a large moustache. He rarely had much to say for himself and today was no different. “Glorious?” he repeated. “Is it, Bear? How absolutely thrilling.”

      Paddington raised his hat and walked on to the kiosk himself to pick up a copy of the Daily News.

      He greeted the owner. “Hello, Miss Kitts! Such a lovely day. Do you have any plans?”

      Before Miss Kitts could reply a colourful parrot stuck its head out from behind her shoulder and squawked. “Looking for love! Looking for love!”

      “Oi, Feathers! You cheeky bird!” Miss Kitts laughed and flapped one hand at the noisy bird. “He’s a nightmare, that parrot. Ignore him!” she said to Paddington. “Here you are, love,” she added, handing Paddington his paper. “What about you – got any plans?”

      “I have, as it happens,” said Paddington. “I am on a Very Important Mission.”

      “Sounds exciting!” said Miss Kitts.

      Just then, Paddington’s friend, Fred Barnes the binman, pulled up in his bin lorry.

      “What’s that about a mission?” he asked.

      “I am on one. And it involves Mr Gruber,” Paddington said cryptically.

      “Intriguing!” said Fred. “Why don’t you hop into the lorry? I’ll give you a lift. I need to practise all the shortcuts for my test.”

      “What test?” Paddington asked.

      “I’m going to be a London cabbie! Here …” Fred passed Paddington an A to Z map of London. “You can test me on the Knowledge while I drive.”

      

      PADDINGTON THANKED FRED as he hopped down from the bin lorry. He had arrived at Mr Gruber’s antique shop just in time for elevenses, which was the best time of day to visit.

      “Ah, Mr Brown,