Nanny Piggins and the Pursuit of Justice by R. A. Spratt Page A

day. The rules slipped my mind,’ confessed Nanny Piggins.
    ‘Then I shall remind you of them. Rule One: a fortune teller must always muddle her predictions up with gobbledegook and bunkum,’ intoned Madame Zandra.
    ‘Of course,’ said Nanny Piggins.
    ‘If you tell fortunes accurately you’re going to put the rest of us out of business,’ said Madame Zandra. ‘Do you really want a whole crowd of angry unemployed fortune tellers on your doorstep?’
    ‘No, Madame Zandra,’ said Nanny Piggins humbly.
    ‘And Rule Two: always keep your tent properly ventilated,’ coughed Madame Zandra as she flapped her hand in front of her face, ‘so you can use lots of smoke in your special effects.’
    ‘You’re so right, Madame Zandra, I don’t know what I was thinking,’ agreed Nanny Piggins. ‘However, I predict that you won’t punish me too severely, because you’re so lovely and you would quite fancy some of the treacle tart I have hidden in my turban.’
    And so Nanny Piggins closed her fortunetelling business. On the whole she was glad to do it. While having $60,000 would be nice, having jobs was not. So it was much better to have just one instead of two. Madame Zandra left after making Nanny Piggins swear never to tell an accurate fortune again. Then Nanny Piggins and the children went down to the Transport Museum to pay for their damages.
    When they got to the museum, however, themost remarkable thing happened. For a start they could not get into the building, and not just because Nanny Piggins was banned but because there was police tape across the front entrance. Naturally, Nanny Piggins just ducked under the tape and went inside. Then, after several police constables tried (and failed) to crash-tackle her in the lobby, the Police Sergeant intervened and told her that she did not need to repay the museum.
    It turns out Nanny Piggins had been entirely right. The World War I fighter planes were fakes. The curator had sold the real planes over the internet and substituted them with forgeries he had made in his own garage. (Which is why they had petrol in their engines, because he had flown them in to work early one morning before anybody else got in.) So the curator was being forced to pay for all the damages himself.
    This meant Nanny Piggins, Boris and the children returned home with the $20,000 still in their possession. The cash sat on the coffee table while they stared at it.
    ‘It’s such a lot of money,’ said Samantha reverentially.‘What are we going to spend it on?’ asked Derrick.
    ‘A honey farm?’ suggested Boris.
    ‘A medium-sized monster robot?’ suggested Michael.
    ‘No,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘While they are excellent suggestions, I have an even better idea.’
    Later that day Nanny Piggins, Boris and the children went out and bought their very own refrigerated cake stand. They put it right in the middle of the kitchen. Nanny Piggins was so proud of their purchase she actually polished it (and as you know she did not normally believe in housework). Of course, the cake stand remained empty at all times. You see, it did its job too well. Whenever Nanny Piggins put a cake in there it looked so good, how could she resist eating it? But she enjoyed knowing she could store a cake if she chose to.

‘Nanny Piggins! Where are you?’ shouted Derrick, as he, Samantha and Michael rushed upstairs to their nanny’s room. Boris followed close behind.
    Normally when they woke up in the morning, they went downstairs and found their nanny in the kitchen, making some wonderful sugar-filled delight. But occasionally, when Nanny Piggins was feeling lazy, she would get up an hour earlier, whip up a spectacular seven-course breakfast, then take itall back upstairs to her bedroom so they could enjoy breakfast in bed. Her room was all set up for it. Nanny Piggins had a camping stove in her dressing table for the omelette bar and a warming plate on her night stand to keep the pancakes at the perfect