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relief to finally get rid of them.)

    Meanwhile, back on the boat the robbers were just lazing around doing nothing much. They weren’t even rowing, they were just letting the boat drift off to France of its own accord. Billy William was impressing Monsieur Bellybutton by eating a fifty pound note and Mr Gum was looking for dolphins to scowl at.

    â€˜Aha!’ he said, spying a great big one on the starboard side. ‘Now for some quality scowlin’!’
    But as it came closer Mr Gum saw that it wasn’t a dolphin after all. It was Jake, carrying his cargo of heroes.
    And the next moment the glorious beast erupted from the waters like a furry referee and landed in the boat with an enormous wet crash. His whopper paws went scrabbling about all over the place and got Billy William right in the never-you-minds.
    â€˜Ooof,’ yipped Billy, and that was him out of the action.
    â€˜ MEDDLERS! ’ screamed Mr Gum, grabbing the biscuit tin and reaching for abashing stick, but Alan Taylor jumped at him in a heroic frenzy, his Superman cape streaming out behind him. He landed on the biscuit tin and sunk his teeth into Mr Gum’s right hand.
    â€˜Shabba me whiskers!’ wailed Mr Gum. ‘That hurts like a rascal!’ He waved his hand about, trying to dislodge Alan Taylor, but when it came down to it he was just a lame-o coward and he had to let go.
    â€˜Whimper!’ he remarked, retreating to theend of the boat. But there was no place to run and he couldn’t swim, and why? Because he couldn’t be bothered.
    Working fast, Polly and Alan Taylor tied up Mr Gum and Billy William. Then Polly turned to their evil-smelling accomplice.
    â€˜You a bad one, all right,’ she said, looking Monsieur Bellybutton up and down. ‘But maybe there’s hopes for you yet. Get in this thing,’ she commanded, pointing to a medieval catapult thatstood in one corner of the boat.
    Monsieur Bellybutton took one look at Jake’s big teeth and climbed inside, sobbing in terror.
    â€˜Stand back!’ said Polly and –
    S S P L L L A N N N N G !
    Monsieur Bellybutton shot out of the catapult and over the waves.
    â€˜NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNON!’ he screamed in slow-motion, which is the French for ‘NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNO!’
    Because for the first time in his grubulent life, Monsieur Bellybutton was about to have a bath.

    In he went. The sea began to boil up all around him as layer after layer of dirt finally met its arch enemy – water. Monsieur Bellybutton coughed and choked and hiccuped but to no avail.The dirt was losing and at long last, after all those years, the world was free of his atrocious fragrance. A vast wave full of laughing starfish and seahorses swept him up and carried him all the way back to Paris, and never did he hassle anybody again but instead he became the loveliest grandfather you could imagine, and he knew stories and songs about happy happy mice.

    But never mind that now, because Polly and Alan Taylor were rowing back to land with the defeated robbers mumbling and moaning at their feet. As they approached the shore they saw an excited figure hobbling over the rocks and shouting:
    â€˜THE TRUTH IS A LEMON MERINGUE!THE TRUTH IS A LEMON MERINGUE! THE TRUTH IS A LEMON MERINGUE! THE TRUTH IS A LEMON MERINGUE! THE TRUTH IS A LEMON MERINGUE!’
    â€˜Do you think that’s Friday?’ asked Alan Taylor.
    â€˜I wouldn’t be surprised,’ said Polly, who knew her friend well.
    And indeed it was he. As soon as the boat reached land, the heroes all ran up to give him‘ friendship medals’, which means hugs.
    â€˜Careful!’ cautioned Friday as they hugged away. ‘I’m still in pain.’
    And seeing Friday’s brave legs all covered in blisters, Polly suddenly fell silent to remember what he’d been through – stinging nettles. Big ones.
    And so the heroes made their way back up Hangman’s Leap