Bunty hadn’t been in the rowing team for nothing; Monsieur Puree was amazed at the way she sliced through the choppy sea and headed towards the thin slither of land where they had espied the porpoises heading with their passengers.
“I ‘ave ad my leetle beady eyes on that person for some time now mizz Bunty” shouted monsieur Puree over the swell of the ocean. Bunty just nodded, her muscles bulged under her summer tweed as she pulled on the oars.
“Bloody useless man” she thought “he could at least help instead of wiping salt water of his patent leather shoes”.
In the distance on a the sea shore she saw sea shells and then the limp form of Lola being dragged by Max. Lola was still befuddled by the powerful narcotic and imagined Max was taking her to the casino for some odd reason.
“I’ll have a Black Russian, Bunty will have a Manhattan” she slurred.
At the dig the Prof was busy translating the heiroglyphics, they made for very interesting reading. This site was dedicated to the cat queen of Rome. He scratched his head and wiped his sweaty but distinguished brow. “I have never heard of her” he muttered. Apparently she had kept many cats in her palace they all had male names, even the female cats. On one wall there was a shopping list scratched in the aging plaster, 10 crates of fish, cheesy puffs, asses milk, chicken and so on. The queen was called Ttwatacatra and had arrived from Peru as far as he could make out. Scariest of all was a room full of mummified cats and bowls in front of them. He climbed out of the dig and sat on a wall, he felt suddenly afraid and gazed across the bay to calm himself.
Max succeeded in wrestling Lola in to a large motor car with darkened windows. He couldn’t stay out in the sun without bits of exposed skin fizzing and falling to dust but such was his desire to capture Lola he didn’t care if he over exposed himself.
Bunty and Monsieur Puree reached the shore and dashed up the shore to see the black car sweeping off towards the hills.
“Damn, blast and Bugger!” said Bunty loudly”Now we will never get to Lola before she does him some damage” she pulled on her deck shoes and hunted in her pockets for something sweet. Her blood sugar level was dangerously low after all that exertion and she could blow at any moment.
“I have some bon bons Madame if you wish?” he undid a perfectly wrapped box and offered her one.
“Give them here, – and I told you it is not MADAM!” she grabbed the box and stuffed several into her hamster like cheeks and let out a sigh after the caramel had hit the spot.
Monsieur Puree observed the scragged remains of his sweet little bon bon box and tut tutted in a very Gallic way. He stopped though as he saw Bunty’s dangerous blood shot eyes.