Thank you to Julie and her family for naming the gorilla “Gertrude”. Julie won the competition I created with Comic Relief and BBC Children in Need to name a character in this book. Thank you to all of you who entered the competition.

Copyright

First published in Great Britain by

HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2020 Published in this ebook edition in 2020 HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd, HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is www.harpercollins.co.uk Text copyright © David Walliams 2020 Illustrations copyright © Tony Ross 2020 Cover lettering of author’s name copyright © Quentin Blake 2010 Cover design copyright © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020 David Walliams and Tony Ross assert the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of the work respectively. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Apart from famous historical figures, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Source ISBN: 9780008305833 Ebook Edition © November 2019 ISBN: 9780008454289 Version: 2020-11-03

For James & Sophie,

With love,

David x

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Thank-yous

London: Second World War

Map

Part One: Time to Dare

Chapter 1: Wibble Wobble

Chapter 2: Muddle

Chapter 3: Party Tricks

Chapter 4: Blowing Raspberries

Chapter 5: Granny Spittle

Chapter 6: Mum and Dad

Chapter 7: Penguin Poop

Chapter 8: Frozen in Fear

Chapter 9: Batter

Chapter 10: A Rude Magic Trick

Chapter 11: Bang!

Chapter 12: Deep Doo-Doo

Chapter 13: Gnarl

Chapter 14: Ear Trumpet

Chapter 15: Curl Up Into a Ball

Chapter 16: Stop that Boy!

Chapter 17: Sid’s Secret

Chapter 18: Honk! Honk! Honk!

Part Two: Blood, Sweat, Toil and Tears

Chapter 19: A Kingdom of Creatures

Chapter 20: Hide-and-Seek

Chapter 21: Charge!

Chapter 22: The Plan

Part Three: Never Surrender

Chapter 23: Balloon

Chapter 24: Downed Bomber

Chapter 25: Jump!

Chapter 26: Follow the River

Chapter 27: Under Attack

Chapter 28: Deepest Doo-Doo

Chapter 29: A Hefty Catch

Chapter 30: Hairy Jelly

Chapter 31: The End?

Chapter 32: Sucking on a Wasp

Chapter 33: Trouble

Chapter 34: Pink Frilly Nightdress

Chapter 35: Fruit-and-Nut Cake

Chapter 36: Boy Bridesmaid

Chapter 37: Rugby Tackle

Chapter 38: The Taste of Cardboard

Chapter 39: Keep the Shoe

Chapter 40: Stunned Nuns

Chapter 41: Bottom Raspberry

Chapter 42: Lost Property

Chapter 43: Twitching Moustache

Part Four: A Monstrous Tyranny

Chapter 44: Strictly Forbidden

Chapter 45: The Willies

Chapter 46: Cobwebs

Chapter 47: Boing! Boing! Boing!

Chapter 48: Dead Eyes

Chapter 49: Ghoulish Grins

Chapter 50: Poisoned Tea

Chapter 51: Cracking the Code

Chapter 52: Nazis in Bognor Regis

Chapter 53: Shoot that Gowilla!

Chapter 54: Bullets in the Back

Part Five: The Darkest Hour

Chapter 55: Prisoners Under the Waves

Chapter 56: The Biggest Bomb in the World

Chapter 57: Ticklish

Chapter 58: Bottom on Fire

Chapter 59: Chomp!

Chapter 60: Big Red Button

Chapter 61: A Watery Grave

Chapter 62: Tidal Wave

Part Six: A Love of Tradition

Chapter 63: The Most Famous Address in the World

Chapter 64: Badly Behaved Guests

Chapter 65: Top Secret

Chapter 66: Party at the Palace

Chapter 67: Banana Split

Epilogue

Also by David Walliams

About the Publisher

Britain has been in a bitter war with Nazi Germany for over a year.

It is the height of the Blitz, and Nazi bombs rain down on the city.

The people of London live in fear.

As do the animals of the city, particularly those in LONDON ZOO.

The characters in our adventure are…

ERIC

This short, shy eleven-year-old boy has sticky-out ears and wears glasses with one of the lenses cracked. Sadly, like many children of the time, Eric has lost both his parents in the war. Now an orphan, he is withdrawn and sad most of the time. The only thing that makes the boy happy is visiting LONDON ZOO. There he has formed a very special friendship with a huge furry friend. More of her, in a moment.

UNCLE SID

Sid is Eric’s great-uncle, and the oldest keeper at LONDON ZOO. He has worked there for longer than anyone can remember, including him. Like many men at the outbreak of the First World War, he enlisted to become a soldier. However, on his very first day on the battlefields of France, he stepped on an enemy mine, and lost both his legs. Nowadays Sid gets about on tin legs, but nothing can dampen his fighting spirit. The zookeeper would give anything to be able to battle the Nazis and prove himself to be a hero once and for all.

GRANDMA

Eric’s grandmother is a fearsome character. She dresses from head to toe in black: black shoes, black coat and black pillbox hat. The deaf old lady never goes anywhere without her ear trumpet, which helps her hear. This doubles as a weapon to bash folks out of her way. When Eric became an orphan, she took the boy in to live with her. As much as he loves his grandmother, Eric finds it hard to be around her as she is so very strict.

BESSIE

Bessie is a larger-than-life lady, bursting with love and laughter. She works as a doctor in a military hospital in London, where day and night she tends to the wounded soldiers. Bessie and Sid are next-door neighbours, living side by side in a row of tiny terraced houses. A bomb blast tore a hole in the fence that divides their back gardens, so Bessie can pop round to see Sid at any time of the day or night.

NINA THE AIR-RAID WARDEN

Nina is one of London’s hundreds of air-raid wardens, who spring into action when the Nazi bombers appear. Wardens make sure that Londoners are off the streets and taking shelter whenever the air-raid warning sounds. It is the perfect job for this busybody, who loves nothing more than bossing folk around.

SIR FREDERICK FROWN

Considering Frown is the Director General of LONDON ZOO, it may come as a surprise to you that he doesn’t like animals. Creatures of all shapes and sizes give him the willies. Frown is forever in fear of being slobbered over, nibbled or, worst of all, peed on. So he spends most of the time hiding in his office, as far away from all those dreadful beasts as possible. He is so achingly posh he speaks as if he has a plum in his mouth.

CORPORAL BATTER

This old soldier from the First World War is now the nightwatchman at LONDON ZOO. Batter sports a big, bushy moustache and is never without his tin helmet, his chest full of medals and, most importantly, his rifle. Batter has strict orders to shoot any dangerous animals that escape from the zoo during the night-time bombing raids.

MISS GNARL

This tall, broad vet at LONDON ZOO is called whenever an animal needs to be put down. Armed with a needle full of poison, the sinister Gnarl adores her work. The bigger the animal, the better. She is a disturbing character, who speaks only in growls.

HELENE and BERTHA

These mysterious elderly twin sisters run a deserted guesthouse at the British seaside town of Bognor Regis. The guesthouse, Seaview Towers, has not had a guest for years. So, what are the strange pair doing there? Perhaps their glamorous appearance hides something darker below the surface.

CAPTAIN SPEER

Speer is the elegant but ruthless commander of a Nazi U-boat (or submarine). The Führer Adolf Hitler himself, the evil Nazi leader who seized power in Germany, has personally sent Speer on a top-secret mission. This mission has taken the U-boat to the south coast of Britain, where it is lurking, ready to strike. If Speer succeeds, the course of the war will take a dramatic turn, making a Nazi victory certain.

WINSTON CHURCHILL

The British prime minister is a big, balding man, always dressed immaculately in three-piece suits, bowties and Homburg hats. Winston Churchill is famous for his stirring speeches, his dogged determination and his fondness for brandy and cigars. He is seen by many as the only leader who can lead Britain to victory over the Nazis.

And last but not least……

GERTRUDE THE GORILLA

One of the oldest animals at LONDON ZOO, Gertrude is also the most popular. She is the zoo’s star attraction. Children delight in the old ape’s escapades, as she loves to show off for the crowds, especially for a banana or two. Gertrude loves to blow raspberries at the visitors. The gorilla has formed a special friendship with one child in particular. A short, shy boy in cracked glasses who goes by the name of Eric.

Life.

Love.

Laughter.

The world had been plunged into a war of unimaginable horror, so these three things were more important than ever.

They are important to this story too.

Our adventure begins on a cold, crisp afternoon in London in December 1940. In LONDON ZOO, to be precise. There, a little boy had just made a discovery. A discovery that made him laugh for the first time in a long, long time.

“HA! HA! HA!”

That little boy was an eleven-year-old orphan named Eric. He was short for his age and had sticky-out ears, which made him feel like he stuck out. The boy wore glasses, but one of the lenses was cracked, and he didn’t have any money to repair them.

As soon as the bell rang for the end of school, Eric would run out of the gates as fast as his little legs would take him. He hated school, where he was picked on mercilessly for his sticky-out ears, and given the nickname “Wingnut”.

Eric had been given strict orders by his grandmother to hurry straight home. But he couldn’t resist taking a detour. From school, he dashed through the streets, dodging the mountains of rubble. There were adventures to be had in the wreckage of downed Nazi planes, burnt-out double-decker buses or bombed buildings, but the boy didn’t dilly-dally. Oh no. He was in a rush to get to his favourite place on earth.

LONDON ZOO.

Apart from all the animals, the best thing about the zoo was that Eric could get in for FREE! That was because his uncle worked there as a zookeeper. Uncle Sid was really his mum’s uncle, but Eric always called the old man “Uncle Sid” too. Sometimes Eric would even help Sid with his work. This he loved more than anything. His dream was to be a zookeeper himself one day. To Eric, animals seemed so much nicer than humans. None of them made fun of his sticky-out ears for a start. Some of them had sticky-out ears too. No matter, they were all beautiful in their own way.

Eric loved feeding the animals, washing them and he didn’t even mind mucking out their cages. Some elephant droppings weighed a ton and shovelling them was a two-man job.

Sid would smuggle Eric in through the back entrance to the zoo. That way he would not have to pay the entrance fee of sixpence, a small fortune for a small boy. Eric didn’t have a penny to his name, let alone six.

So, at four o’clock on the dot each day, Eric would arrive at the staff gate. In what resembled a military operation, he would remain out of sight and knock three times.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Then he would wait in silence until he heard a “Twit-twoo!” This was his great-uncle imitating the call of an owl. That sound meant the coast was clear. The next thing the boy would hear was the old man approaching. Sid had tin legs. His real ones had been blown off in the First World War. Whenever he walked, there was the sound of clinking, clanking and clunking.

CLINK! CLANK! CLUNK!

“Password!” the man would hiss, hiding on the other side of the gate.

“Wibble wobble!” the boy would reply.

“Ha! Ha!” chuckled Sid as he opened the gate. “In you come!”

The password was different every day. The boy would invent a new one each time to make his great-uncle laugh.

Some of their favourites were:

“Thanks, Uncle Sid.”

“How was school today?” asked the old man. There was a strong family resemblance. Sid was short and had sticky-out ears too. However, he also had big, bushy eyebrows and an even bushier beard, so that was where the family resemblance ended. Because of his tin legs the old man was unsteady on his feet, which were also made of tin. Sid looked like he was going to topple over at any moment.

“I hate it!” huffed the boy.

“I don’t know why I bother asking!”

“The kids pick on me about my ears.”

“Your ears look perfectly normal to me!” said the old man as he waggled his own sticky-out ears with his hands to make the boy laugh.

“Ha! Ha!”

“Don’t let the bullies get you down! It’s what’s in here that counts,” said Sid, clutching his heart. “You are a smashing boy – don’t ever forget that!”

“I will try not to.”

“Don’t you have any friends at school?”

“Not really,” replied the boy sorrowfully.

“Well, I know all the animals here are your friends. They love you as much as you love them.”

The boy hugged the old man, nestling his head in Sid’s big, round tummy.

“Whoa!” exclaimed Sid, flapping his arms around as if he were a penguin trying to take off.

“Sorry! I always forget about those tin legs…”

“Don’t worry. You’ll be able to sell me off for scrap metal when I’m gone!” he joked.

The boy smiled. “You’re funny!”

“There may be a war on, but you have to keep smiling. And laughing. Or what else are we fighting for?”

“I had never thought of it like that,” pondered the boy. “But you are right, Uncle Sid. Do you need a hand with anything today?”

“Oh! You are a good boy, but I’ve done all the mucking out. You go and enjoy yourself!”

“Thanks! I always do!”

“I know the animals will be pleased to see you after last night!”

The boy immediately knew what he meant. Last night had been the worst bombing raid by the Nazi air force (or “Luftwaffe”) in London since the war had begun.

“As soon as the air-raid warning went off, I woke Granny up. She doesn’t hear too good.”

“Yes, I know! She’s deaf as a post.”

“And even though I was still in my pyjamas and Granny was in her nightdress we ran to Blackfriars Tube. We slept the night down in the station with hundreds of others, right there on the platform.”

“How was it?” asked the old man. “Noisy, I bet.”

“And smelly. Not the best night’s sleep I’ve ever had!”

“No, but at least you and Granny were safe.”

“Where did you hide out?”

“Me? The air-raid warden ordered me to run for shelter, but I came straight here to the zoo. I had to be here to take care of the animals. Try to keep them calm.”

The boy winced at the thought of them all suffering. “How were they?”

“I did my best, but the bombs just kept on coming. Boom! Boom! Boom! I’m afraid to say your friend took it hardest. She can’t bear the noise of the bombs. Frightened out of her wits, she was.”

The boy gulped with fear. “I’d better go and see her right away.”

“You do that. I know you always cheer her up like no one else can!”

The old man ruffled the boy’s hair. Eric ran off in search of his friend.

To Eric, LONDON ZOO was a wonderland. He had never been outside London in his life, but here in just a few acres of the city were the most magical creatures from all over the world.

But there was one animal in particular that Eric loved more than any other.

Her name was Gertrude.

Gertrude the gorilla.

The funny thing about Gertrude was that she was so human, and so not human all at once.

Thick black hair covered her entire body, like a giant fur coat. Her head was enormous, with a bulging forehead as long as her face. Two unusually large ears stuck out on the sides of the gorilla’s head, just above her eyes. Gorillas normally have tiny ears, but not Gertrude. Perhaps that is why the boy felt a special connection to her. Or perhaps it was her warm ginger eyes that flashed with kindness.

The gorilla’s wide nose was wrinkled like an old lady’s. This was fitting, as Gertrude was an old lady. She was fifty, positively ancient for a gorilla. But the thought that she was some sweet old dear would be gone the moment she opened her mouth.

FANGS!

Gertrude had the most magnificent set of fangs, two up and two down.

Also not sweet-old-dear-y were her arms. They were nearly as broad as her legs, and her legs were already broader than broad. What’s more, her huge tummy was round like a barrel. The things Eric loved most about his best friend were her hands and feet. They were much like his, except they were absolutely HUMONGOUS.

Gertrude might have been the biggest of all the apes in LONDON ZOO, but she was also the gentlest. Sometimes a sparrow would fly into her cage and land on her head. You might think that a gorilla, with its incredible strength, would crush an uninvited visitor in its hand. But not Gertrude. No, she would treat the little bird like a baby. The gorilla would hold it delicately in her hand and stroke it. Sometimes she would even mimic the birdsong.

“TWEET! TWEET!”

Then she would give the little creature a kiss on the beak.

“MWAH!”

All this would delight the crowds who would gather around Gertrude’s cage. The gorilla was LONDON ZOO’s STAR ATTRACTION.

The worst thing about being an orphan was missing being hugged. Eric had lost his mum and dad during the war. They were both good at hugs. Sometimes they would even have a big family cuddle, with Eric in the middle. They called it a MUDDLE. Cuddle and middle.

The boy loved those muddles most of all. Feeling the love and warmth of both his parents made him feel safe. Now the war had torn them away from him.

Forever.

Eric knew he would never have that feeling again. So, when he gazed through the bars of Gertrude’s cage, he often wished he could magic his way inside. Then the gorilla could just wrap her big strong arms round him and hold him tight. Gertrude was as big as both his parents put together. Eric was sure she could give him a jolly good muddle.

Eric had dashed past animal after animal until he finally reached his best friend’s cage. To his sadness he saw Gertrude the gorilla squatting in the corner with her back to the crowd, rocking to and fro.

This was not right.

Something was very wrong.

The old girl was not her normal self at all. Usually she would delight in showing off to the crowd, getting up to all sorts of tricks, especially for a banana. Or two. Or three. Or as many as she could stuff in her gob at once. Which was a lot.

Gertrude’s favourite party tricks included:

The boy couldn’t bear seeing his friend looking so sad today. Last night’s bombing raid had clearly frightened the life out of her. The crowd gathered around her cage were muttering and moaning.

“I paid good money for this!”

“Fat lot of good that gorilla is!”

“What a waste of time!”

Eric couldn’t get through all the people, so he climbed up on top of a bench and shouted, “GERTRUDE!”

The moment the gorilla heard her friend’s voice, she stopped rocking and stood up. Then she leaped on to her rope and shimmied up with ease, using her hands and feet. Once at the top, she spotted the boy over the sea of heads.

“EEH-AAH!” she cried on seeing Eric. Despite it being ear-splittingly loud, you could tell it was a happy cry.

All those in the crowd looked around to spot who exactly this gorilla was so excited to see. Eric was painfully shy. Such was his embarrassment at being stared at that he blushed redder than a tomato.

Eric gave a little wave back to his friend. Then the crowd parted to let the boy go to the front.

Gertrude shimmied down the rope with ease and lolloped over to Eric. He put his hand up against the metal bars.

“Be careful!” came a shout from the crowd.

“Gorillas are dangerous!” came another.

“It will rip your arm off quicker than you can say Jack Sprat!” warned a third.

The gorilla followed the boy’s lead. Gently, she placed her hand up against the bars from the inside. Now the palms of their hands were just touching.

Eric smiled, and Gertrude smiled back. Seeing her big silly smile made him chuckle, and Gertrude hooted with laughter too.

“Ha! Ha!”

“HEE-HAW! HEE-HAW!”

Then the boy stuck his tongue out at her.

Then the gorilla stuck her tongue out at him!

There was a ripple of laughter through the crowd.

“HA! HA! HA!”

Hearing them, Eric felt flustered and took a step back.

“Go on, boy!” someone prompted.

“Don’t stop now!” urged another.

“This is worth the price of admission alone!” remarked a third.

The boy took a deep breath and tried to put all these strangers out of his mind. Summoning all his courage, he stepped towards the cage again. Gertrude smiled at him, her eyes twinkling. Eric smiled back. The gorilla’s smiles were infectious.

Today the boy was determined to try to go one further: to teach Gertrude a new trick. So Eric did something that always made him chuckle. He blew a raspberry.

“PFFT!”

There were tuts and murmurs of disapproval from some of the grown-ups.

“TUT!”

“TUT!”

“TUT!”

Clearly, they were unimpressed with his childish humour.

But the gorilla was not. Gertrude looked puzzled for a moment. Then she pursed her lips and blew, but no sound came out. Egging her on to try again, the boy slowly pursed his lips, pushed his tongue forward, and blew.

“PFFFFT!”

“TUT!”

“TUT!”

“TUT!”

Looking at Eric the entire time for encouragement, the gorilla copied him. Once again, she pursed her lips and pushed her tongue even further forward. This time, like a raspberry-blowing champion, Gertrude blew the loudest, longest raspberry the world had ever known.

“PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT!”

SUCCESS!

Despite now having his face covered in gorilla spittle, the boy couldn’t help but laugh.

“HA! HA! HA!”

The stern-faced crowd began to chuckle too.

“HO! HO! HO!”

“Well played, boy!”

“The child is a marvel with animals!”

“This pair should be on the stage!”

Feeling ten-foot tall now, Eric was wondering if there was something else he could do? Could these raspberries be blown into something resembling a tune? There was only one way to find out.

The boy didn’t know many songs. One he often sang in school assembly and had, in fact, sung that very morning was “Rule, Britannia!”.

So, replaying the tune in his head, he began raspberrying* out the notes of the chorus.

“PFFFT! PFT! PFT! PFT!”

Eric then fell silent in the hope that Gertrude would follow his lead.

The gorilla tilted her head and looked at the boy as if he was barmy.

Undeterred by this, Eric persisted. The boy repeated himself.

“PFFFT! PFT! PFT! PFT!”

Gertrude tilted her head to the other side. Then a mischievous thought flashed across her eyes, and she pursed her lips together and pushed her tongue forward.

“PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT!”

A long, low raspberry came out, once again covering the boy with gorilla spittle.

“Good luck with that one, lad!” snorted a voice from behind.

“Next you’ll be teaching it to play the piano!”

“Or dance for the Royal Ballet!”

“HA! HA! HA!”

Eric could sense people ebbing away, but he was sure it was worth one more try.

“PFFFT! PFT! PFT! PFT!”

This time the most wondrous thing happened. Gertrude joined in!

“PFFFT! PFT! PFT! PFT!”

This little boy and this great ape were blowing raspberries to the tune of “Rule, Britannia!”…

Eric kept eye contact with Gertrude and nodded his head so she would keep time. He was pretty sure that she didn’t know the song. Why would she? But she was picking it up very quickly.

“PFFFT! PFT! PFT! PFT!”

Soon, those that had shuffled away raced back to catch a glimpse of the show. More and more people joined, until there was a huge crowd gathered around the cage. Eric was concentrating so much on teaching the tune that he had managed to put them entirely out of his mind. Focusing on Gertrude, the pair reached the end of the chorus with one last big booming raspberry.

“PFFFFFFFFFFFFT!”

Instantly, the crowd broke into wild applause.

“MORE! MORE!”

“ENCORE!”

“PLAY US ANOTHER!”

The boy turned round. Because of the fuss, his face was now as red as a London bus.

“Well, I, er…”

Then at the back of the crowd he heard a voice. An angry voice. A voice he knew only too well… shouting his name.

“ERIC!”

* A real word that I have just made up. See your Walliamsictionary for the definition.

“ERIC!” the voice yelled again.

Now the boy blushed redder than a postbox.

The crowd looked around to see who this person was with the incredibly loud voice.

“Good afternoon, Grandma,” replied the boy weakly.

“Don’t you ‘good afternoon, Grandma’ me, boy! You are in almighty trouble! I ordered you to come straight home after school, but did you? Oh no! You had to come here to the zoo again, didn’t you?”

There was no answer to that.

Eric was BUSTED.

The old lady batted the crowd out of the way with her ear trumpet.

BISH!

“OW!”

BASH!

“OOF!”

BOSH!

“ARGH!”

“Look at you, child!” she exclaimed, spotting that her grandson was covered in gorilla spittle. “Your face is FILTHY!”

Then the old lady did something Eric and all the children of all the world LOATHE. She spat on her handkerchief and began furiously rubbing away at his face.

Now Eric was covered in granny spittle instead of gorilla spittle. The boy wasn’t sure which was worse.

As if that wasn’t punishment enough, Grandma yanked him by one of his sticky-out ears.

“COME WITH ME!” she demanded. “I bet this was all your Uncle Sid’s idea! That man is always filling your head with silly ideas!”

“Uncle Sid had nothing to do with it!” lied Eric.

“What did you say?” demanded the old lady, cupping the ear trumpet to her ear.

“UNCLE SID HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT!”

Grandma stared at the boy. “Bread and dripping!” she barked. “I bet there’s another bombing raid tonight as soon as it’s dark, which,” she said, looking up at the sky, “is any moment now!”

With her free hand, Grandma hacked through the crowd with her ear trumpet as if it were a machete slashing through the jungle.

BISH!

“OUCH!”

BASH!

“ARF!”

BOSH!

“NOT AGAIN!”

Such was the commotion that more and more people began to gather: visitors, zookeepers and a stiff-looking man who was immaculately dressed in a morning suit complete with top hat. He tried to weave his way through the crowds.

“Please! Please! Some decowum, please!” he exclaimed. His voice was so achingly posh that his “r”s came out as “w”s. “Calm down, madam, please!”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?” she shouted.

“I SAID ‘CALM DOWN’!”

“All right! All right! No need to shout.”

“Are you a little hard of heawing, madam?” asked the man, spotting the ear trumpet.

“A quarter past five,” replied Grandma, checking her watch. “Who are you, anyway?” she added, putting the trumpet to her ear.

The man was taken aback by her tone. He spoke directly into the end of the trumpet. “I am Sir Fwedewick Fwown!”

“Fwedewick!” the old lady scoffed. “What kind of a name is that?”

“Fwedewick! It is a perfectly normal name for a gentleman.”

“I think it’s Frederick,” hissed Eric, still wincing from the pain of having his ear pulled. “He runs the zoo.”

“You are wight, boy. Fwedewick! And I am the zoo’s diwector genewal!”

“The what?” she demanded.

“Diwector genewal!”

“Diwector genewal? What is a diwector genewal?”

“He is the director general, Grandma,” said Eric.

“How many times do you need to be told?” bawled Frown. “Diwector genewal!”

“THERE’S NO NEED TO SHOUT, DEAR!” she shouted.

“I must politely ask you to leave the pwemises!”

“The pwemises?” she asked.

“Yes! The pwemises. With haste!”

“Don’t you worry – we’re going!” The lady marched off. On each of her steps, Gertrude blew a raspberry…

“PFT! PFT! PFT!”

…making it seem like the old lady was blowing off.

The crowd roared with laughter.

“HA! HA! HA!”

“Oh! My goodness gwacious!” exclaimed Sir Frederick. “Who taught my gowilla to do that? Was it you, big-eared boy?” he barked, nose to nose with Eric.

“Yes, sir,” he confessed. “I was just trying to cheer up my friend after all the bombing last night. She was rocking backwards and forwards, and I was worried about her.”

“So you taught her how to blow a waspbewy?”

“Yes, sir,” replied the boy sorrowfully.

“This is a zoo! Not a circus!” thundered Frown.

“I couldn’t agree more!” snapped Grandma. “You need to have a talk with the boy’s great-uncle. He works here at the zoo. Sidney Pratt!”

“PWATT?”

“NO! PRATT!”

Grandma had dropped the zookeeper in a massive pile of elephant doo. Which, by a staggering coincidence, is exactly where Sid already was. However, Eric could hear that familiar clinking, clanking and clunking of the old man’s tin legs in the distance.

CLINK! CLANK! CLUNK!

On spotting Sid, the boy shook his head as if to say, “Run!” Sadly, running was not the old man’s strong point.

“Do you know this boy, Pwatt?” demanded Frown.

Eric shook his head.

“No?” lied the man.

“He’s your great-nephew, Sidney!” exclaimed Grandma. “I knew you were daft, but I didn’t know you were this daft!”

“Oh, yes, I do, then,” said Sid.

“Yes or no?” pressed Frown.

“A bit of both. No, I didn’t know him, before he was born. But now I do, yes.”

“I tell my grandson time and time again there’s a war on! It’s not safe! He needs to come straight home from school!” began Grandma. “But oh no! Sidney Pratt has other ideas! Wants the boy to be a zookeeper just like him! Shovelling doodahs all day! I bet he even sneaks the boy in here for free!”

Frown frowned. “Fwee? FWEE! Is this twue?”

Sid looked at Eric. The boy shook his head again, but the old man knew the game was up.

“Yes. It is twue, I mean true. My little Eric loves the animals, you see, and they love him…”

“Sidney Pwatt, wait for me in my office! You two, leave the zoo wight now.”

“YOU WHAT?” barked Grandma, pushing the trumpet closer to her ear.

“LEAVE!”

“THERE’S NO NEED TO SHOUT! And don’t worry! We’re going! I wouldn’t come back into this stinky old place if you paid me!” huffed Grandma, yanking Eric’s sticky-out ear. She’d made it stick out even further.

“OW!” exclaimed Eric as he was hauled away. He stole a look back at Sid, and then at Gertrude. The gorilla was sitting in her cage, having watched the entire scene. Although she couldn’t speak human, Gertrude had clearly understood much of what had happened.

The boy was sad, so she was sad too.

The gorilla put her hand up to the cage. It was clear she didn’t want her friend to go.

“HEE-HAW!” she cried after him, offering a little wave goodbye. Eric waved back, just before he was hauled off out of

sight

by his

ear.

“OWWW!”

“STRAIGHT TO BED!” announced Grandma as she loomed over Eric at the kitchen table of her little terraced house. “Do you hear me? STRAIGHT TO BED!”

There was no chance of the boy not hearing her. She spoke so very loudly. “Straight to bed with no tea!”

“But—!”

“NO BUTS! YOU HAVE BEEN A VERY BAD BOY!”

Eric rose from the rickety chair and stomped up the stairs.

STOMP!

STOMP!

STOMP!

The first door was that of the tiny, dark, damp box room. It was full of Grandma’s old junk, but was now Eric’s bedroom. Feeling sorry for himself, he lay down on the bed, not even bothering to take off his school uniform. He closed his eyes. Holding on to the pillows, he imagined he was in the middle of a lovely family cuddle.

A muddle.

His dad had been killed six months before, during that summer at Dunkirk. Dad was one of thousands of British soldiers retreating from the Nazis across France. Dunkirk is the town on the northern coast of France from which the troops were being evacuated. However, many were killed as they tried to escape.

Including Private George Grout.

Dad had been a plumber – that’s how he’d met his wife. He’d called round when her outside toilet was blocked. When war was declared in 1939, Dad proudly signed up to join the army. He was determined to do his bit to keep Britain safe from a Nazi invasion. However, his war would not be a long one. After surviving a number of fierce battles in France, tragedy struck at Dunkirk. The ship on which he was being evacuated, HMS Grafton, was torpedoed by a Nazi U-boat (or submarine).

Eric’s mum was devastated when she received the telegram. Her darling husband was gone. She wept and wept and wept. Eric feared she might drown in her own tears, just as so many soldiers had drowned at Dunkirk. It was scary seeing his mum so sad. Would life ever feel normal again? Strangely there were still normal things to do, like eat your breakfast, brush your teeth or do your homework. After her husband’s death, Mum was more determined than ever to help with Britain’s war effort. She worked at a factory sewing parachutes for Spitfire pilots. However, tragedy was to strike Eric’s short life again when a Nazi bomb destroyed the factory during a night shift.

No one got out alive.

One moment Mum was there, and the next she was gone. Just like with his dad, Eric didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye. Nothing felt real to the boy any more. It was as if he were in a dream or, rather, a nightmare, where he was trapped underwater, and if he cried out nobody could hear him.

Now the boy was an orphan, it was hastily decided that Eric should go to live with his grandmother. The problem was that Grandma wasn’t good with children.

Up there in the tiny box room of her house, Eric nestled himself between the two pillows on his bed. He dreamed they were his mum and dad. The pillows were cold and damp. Still, he shut his eyes. Maybe, just maybe, if he concentrated hard enough, he would find himself back in a perfect family muddle.

His daydream ended as the door swung open.

SWONK!

“I brought you some bread and dripping,” announced Grandma.

Eric hadn’t been expecting her, and hastily sat up on the bed, pushing the pillows to one side. He felt silly that the old lady might see him like this.

“Oh, thank you, Grandma,” he chirped. He liked bread and dripping. Dripping was the fat from cooked meat, and it was tasty if you spread it on bread. He wolfed it down as the old lady perched next to him.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you, Eric,” she said. “This war is hard. I lost a son; you lost a father. And, of course, you lost your mother too. I just couldn’t bear it if any harm came to you.”

“I understand, Grandma,” he spluttered, his mouth full of food. As Eric spoke, he sprayed breadcrumbs all over the floor. This made them both chuckle.

“Ha! Ha!”

Chuckling was not something they did much of together.

“You can have those crumbs in the morning for your breakfast!” said the old lady.

Eric wasn’t sure if she was joking or not.

“Now, as soon as you finish your tea, I want you to go straight to sleep. We barely got a wink last night down in the underground.”

The boy yawned. Grandma was right.

“And you need to be bright and breezy for school in the morning!”

Eric nodded weakly. Bright and breezy was never something he ever felt at school.

“Goodnight, Grandma.”

“Porridge.”

“NO, I SAID ‘GOODNIGHT’!”

“NO NEED TO SHOUT, DEAR!”

“Goodnight, Grandma.”

“Goodnight, boy.”

The old lady wasn’t one for hugs and kisses so she tapped the boy on the head as you might a pet instead.

TAP! TAP!

With that, she stood up and left the room, closing the door behind her.

SWONK!

Eric walked over to the grimy little window and looked up at the sky. It was dark and quiet right now. Eerily so.

Would the Nazi bombers return tonight?

There had been night after night of raids on London. So much so that it even had a name. The newspapers called it “the Blitz”, after the German word for “lightning”. Adolf Hitler’s plan was to force Britain to surrender to the Nazis.

As Eric gazed across the frosted rooftops of London, his thoughts turned to Gertrude. The Nazi bombers were sure to strike again this evening. The gorilla had been left deeply distressed by last night’s bombing raid. In his heart, Eric felt a deep longing to be with her. If he was by her side tonight, he was sure he could make things all right.

So the boy took a deep breath and summoned up all his courage. Then he slid open the window.

SHUNT!

Next, remembering exactly how Gertrude slid down her rope, he shimmied down the drainpipe. Then Eric ran off through the dark and empty streets of London.

London Zoo was set in Regent’s Park, one of the grandest outdoor spaces in the city. The park was closed at night, so Eric had to climb over the railings. Once inside, he circled the outer fence of the zoo for a while, searching for a way in. Ahead, he spotted a tall tree in the park, the branches of which drooped over into the zoo. Thinking again about how Gertrude would climb it, he scaled the tree trunk, using his hands and feet, just like the gorilla did. From the tree trunk, the boy shimmied across one of the branches on his bottom. But, as he scrambled further away from the trunk the branch thinned, and the inevitable happened.

CRACK!

The branch snapped!

Eric found himself tumbling through the air.

WHOOSH!

“ARGH!”

SPLOSH!

He was underwater!

Not just that, he could sense dozens of creatures swishing around him.

Had he fallen into a pool of piranhas?

Was he going to be gobbled alive?

Eric desperately swam to the surface and took a gasp of air.

GASP!

No. These were much bigger than piranhas. And far friendlier too.

They were PENGUINS!

The boy had plunged into the penguin pool!

It had just been built and was more like a waterpark, with slides and a fountain. Perfect, if you were a penguin. Not so good if you were a boy.

The slippery birds played around Eric, pecking at him. One even perched on his head.

“Get off!” he said affectionately, as he guided the penguin back into the water. Eric swam to the edge of the pool and began clambering up the slide. But it was slippery, and he plunged back in the pool again.

WHOOMPH!

SPLOSH!

“SQUAWK! SQUAWK! SQUAWK!”

This time Eric swam over to the edge, and then he heard a familiar sound.

CLINK! CLANK! CLUNK!

It was Sid.

“What are you doing in there?” the old man called down.

“Taking a swim!” called Eric, trying to make light of the situation.

Sid huffed and shook his head. “Wait there!”

CLINK! CLANK! CLUNK!

There was silence for a moment before the old man returned with a long-handled net. It was the one he used for fishing out penguin poop.

“Hold on to this!”

Eric did as he was told, and Sid hauled him out of the water.

“You’re soaking wet!” said the old man.

“That normally happens when you go for a swim,” replied Eric.

“What are you doing here at the zoo so late? It’s way after closing time!”

“I was worried about Gertrude. She looked so frightened today.”

“She was, but you should be tucked up in bed by now, young man!”

“So should you!” said Eric.

This stopped the old man in his tracks. “I know, but I was sure there was going to be another bombing raid. We’ve had them night after night for weeks. I wanted to be here for all the animals!”

“Me too!” exclaimed the boy.

Sid looked up at the sky. “It’s quiet up there in the clouds right now. You should go home!”

As if on cue, the air-raid siren wailed.

WOOOHOOOO!

“I spoke too soon,” hissed the old man. “Come with me.”

Sid grabbed Eric by the hand and led him through the zoo.

CLINK! CLANK! CLUNK!

The zoo might have been in darkness because of the nightly blackout but it was noisier than ever. The air-raid warning had woken all the animals up.

“Are we the only ones here?” asked Eric as he held his great-uncle’s hand tightly.

“No, there’ll be the nightwatchman, Batter. Or Corporal Batter as he demands to be known! We’ll have to keep an eye out for him. He’s the only one who’s meant to be in the zoo after dark.”

Eric could hear a distant humming sound. Next, a rumbling. Finally, there was a loud drone as the Nazi planes came right over their heads, flying in neat formation as they powered through the night sky.

Then the first bomb whistled through the air.

And the next.

And the next.

Then the explosions began.

Lightning was striking all over London.

Searchlights scoured the sky, before big guns fired at the Nazi planes from the ground.

Fire-engine bells rang.

DING! DING! DING!

Eric could just make out the sounds of people screaming and shouting.

“ARGH!”

“HELP!”

“RUN!”

The boy’s heart raced.

The noise.

The lights.

The debris.

Another bomb exploded, even nearer than the last.

And another!

And another.

The elephants raised their trunks and hooted.

“HOO!”

The camels reared up on their back legs and moaned.

“WUHU!”

The lions leaped from rock to rock and roared.

“ROAR!”

However, the saddest sound of all came from the gorilla’s cage.

Gertrude’s huge hands were covering her big ears as she tried to block out the booms of the bombs.

At every explosion she let out a shriek…

“EEEHHH!”

…and rocked from side to side.

Eric broke away from the old man and hurled himself at the cage.

“EEEHHH!”

“GERTRUDE!” cried the boy, but the gorilla wouldn’t even open her eyes.

“GERTRUDE!”

“RAISINS!” shouted Eric.

“You what?” spluttered Sid. It was clear that of all the things he was expecting the boy to shout at this point, “raisins” was a long way down the list.

“Raisins! They are her favourite! After bananas, of course, but you can’t get bananas these days. A handful of raisins might just calm her nerves.”

“You’re right!” agreed Sid. “Clever boy! We’ll make a zookeeper of you yet!”

The boy beamed. “Maybe one day! But where am I going to get raisins from at this time of night?”

“The snack bar might have some!”

“But I don’t have any money!”

“You won’t need any money. It’s closed!”

“Well, if it’s closed, how am I going to get in?”

“You’ll have to break in!”

Eric gulped. He’d never broken in anywhere, ever, and he was rather hoping to get through his whole life without doing so.

“Climb through the window!” shouted Sid over the noise. “Grab some raisins and run!”

The Nazi bombs were landing nearer and nearer to the zoo all the time.

Eric had been to the zoo so many times that even in the dark he knew his way around. In no time at all, he’d found the snack bar, climbed up on to a dustbin and forced a side window open. Next, he slid down inside and fumbled in the darkness to find a jumbo bag of raisins. Tempted though he was to take some sweets for himself, he resisted. Then, using a chair as a stepladder, he climbed up and out through the window, and leaped down on to the dustbin.

CLANG!

Eric glanced at the bag of raisins. There was a tear in it. He must have caught it on the little hook on the window frame. The boy did his best to stop the raisins falling out as he ran back to the gorilla’s cage, bombs dropping all around.

“I got the raisins, Uncle Sid!” he called out, breathless from the running.

The gorilla was still rocking, covering her ears, letting out a sad cry.

“EEEHHH!”

“Have you been eating them?” asked Sid, feeling that the bag was light.

“No, the bag got ripped and I dropped some on the way.”

“A likely story!”

“It’s true!”

The old man turned his attention to the gorilla. “Now, now, Gertrude! Come on, old girl! Your friend has a nice juicy raisin for you!”

Eric took one of the little treats out of the bag and pushed it through the metal bars.

This was the nearest explosion yet. Louder than all the others. They could feel the force of the blast. This bomb must have landed in Regent’s Park. Soil sprayed everywhere, pelting the gorilla.

Poor Gertrude was scared out of her wits. She shrieked and shrieked and shrieked…

“EEEHHH! EEEHHH! EEEHHH!”

…as she leaped about her cage wildly.

“NOOO!” screamed the boy, terrified at what he saw.

Instead of taking the raisin as he’d hoped, the gorilla had bashed her head so hard against the cage that the wire had buckled.

BASH! BASH! BASH!

“Make her stop!” pleaded Eric.

Sid looked as worried as the boy. It was clear the old man had never seen the gorilla acting like this before.

“It’s just a bad storm, Gertrude!” lied the zookeeper.

BASH! BASH! BASH!

“EEEHHH!”

This time Gertrude leaped to the middle of her cage and grabbed on to the rope tied to the metal bars at the top of her enclosure, and yanked with all her might.

“What’s she doing?” cried Eric.

“She’s trying to get out!” replied Sid.

The gorilla wrenched the rope so hard that the roof of her cage tore off from three sides.

TWONK!

Then it toppled into her cage.

KLUNCH!

It landed at an angle, providing a ramp for Gertrude to run up, her huge feet thudding on the metal.

Eric and Sid looked on in a mixture of wonder and horror at the gorilla standing at the top of her cage. She was perfectly silhouetted by the full moon as she beat her chest and let out an almighty howl.

Eric and Sid could feel the heat from the bomb. It must have landed inside the zoo itself. A tall tree in the picnic area exploded into flames.

WHOOF!

The heat was enough to sweep you off your feet.

Eric thought he was going to be burned alive.

The zoo lit up red and orange and yellow as black smoke darkened the sky.

Gertrude leaped down from the top of the cage and landed on the ground with a terrific THUD.

THOMP!

Eric stood frozen in fear as the huge creature lolloped over to him. She stared him right in the face, and he saw a look of terrible sadness in her eyes.

“Don’t scream!” hissed Sid. “And don’t make any sudden movements!”

The boy nodded slowly.

“If we keep still and quiet, then all should be fine…”

Gorillas were so strong they’d been known to tear a man’s arm clean off.

Eric knew that.

But Gertrude was his friend. There had always been this special connection between the pair, even though the bars of the cage had kept them apart.

Until now.

They were now standing nose to nose. He could even feel her warm breath on his face.

Eric felt a strange mixture of joy and fear all at once. But the joy was stronger than the fear, and the boy smiled.

Gertrude loved to copy Eric, so she smiled back, flashing her teeth and those long fangs on each side of her mouth.

As Sid looked on and whispered, “Now be a good girl, Gertrude,” the gorilla puckered up as if to give the boy a kiss. Eric had seen some films with lovey-dovey bits. He’d noticed how the grown-ups often closed their eyes when they kissed. So he did the same.

SPLURT!

But it wasn’t a kiss. It was a raspberry!

PFFFT!”

A big, wet raspberry. For the second time that day, Eric had gorilla spittle all over his face. But he didn’t mind one bit.

“HA! HA! HA!” laughed the boy, and the gorilla joined in too.

“HUH! HUH! HUH!”

“You two!” chuckled Sid. “Now come on, Gertrude, let’s get you back inside what’s left of your cage.”

With that, the man took the gorilla by the hand.

“Say goodnight, Eric,” he said.

“Goodnight, Eric,” repeated the boy. “WAIT! I am Eric!”

“I meant say goodnight to Gertrude, you great bozo!”

“Goodnight, Gertrude!”

“That’s better,” replied Sid, looking up at the sky. Once again, the Luftwaffe planes were nothing more than a distant hum. “Come on, old girl!”

“Let me help!” exclaimed the boy as he took Gertrude by her other hand.

Just then a gunshot rang out.

BANG!

A bullet whizzed just over their heads.

“EEEHHH!” screamed Gertrude.

The gorilla shook the pair from her hands, and they tumbled to the ground.

DOOF! DOOF!

“HUH!”

“EURGH!” they cried as Gertrude raced off into the darkness of the night.

KERTHUMP!

KERTHUMP!

KERTHUMP!

The bombs might have stopped for the night, but the sound of gunshots startled all the animals in the zoo all over again.

“What on earth do you think you are doing?” thundered Sid.

Eric had never seen the old man so angry.

He was shouting at a short, squat figure in the distance, who was now hurrying towards the pair.

“BATTER!” cried Sid.

“Corporal Batter to you!”

Corporal Batter was the nightwatchman for LONDON ZOO. He had been made a corporal in the First World War and had kept using the title. The rank was just above lance corporal, but below sergeant. An achievement, of course, but only a certain type of man would want to keep reminding people of it every single day, a hundred times a day, for the rest of his life.

A man like Batter.

The corporal’s job was to make sure the animals didn’t escape from their cages during the night. Since the Blitz had begun, there was every chance that one of the bombs could land in the zoo and destroy the cages and enclosures.

Then you might very well have:

…an escaped hippopotamus waddling down Oxford Street looking for a bargain…

“HOOT!”

…or a fugitive tiger leaping on the back of a double-decker bus…

“ROAR!”

…or a runaway rhinoceros charging towards 10 Downing Street to knock down the door of the prime minister himself!

THUMP!

When the Nazi bombing campaign began, LONDON ZOO’s resident vet, Miss Gnarl, had put down every single venomous snake or spider. There was a real chance these creatures could find their way into the homes of Londoners and kill them just like the bombs.

Imagine sitting on the toilet, and a huge, furry spider bites you on the bottom.

“URGH!”

Or lying in bed at night, and a snake slithers its way up your leg.

“AAAHHH!”

So Batter had been given the order that if a dangerous animal escaped from its cage during the night he could shoot it on sight. A gorilla more than fitted into this category. Sid and Eric were sure that Gertrude wouldn’t hurt a flea. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. If Gertrude found a flea in her fur, she would pluck it out and eat it. But this gorilla was more interested in blowing raspberries than harming anyone.

“I am… huh… huh…” huffed and puffed Corporal Batter as he finally reached the pair. The old soldier was out of breath.

“Well, out with it, man!” demanded Sid.

“I’ve… huh… got… huh… a huh…” spluttered Batter.

“What’s a ‘huh’?” asked Eric.

“I think he’s just trying to get his breath back!” said Sid.

“I’ve… huh… got a… huh… stitch!” he uttered, clutching his tummy.

“Oh, boo-hoo!” exclaimed Sid. “You could have killed us!”

“I was aiming for the monkey!”

“A gorilla isn’t a monkey – it’s an ape!” protested the boy.

“Same difference!” snapped Batter.

“No, it isn’t! And you can’t shoot Gertrude. She’s my friend!”

“I have my orders!” declared Batter.

With that, the old soldier cocked his rifle.

CLICK!

“Put that gun away, you fool!” exclaimed Sid, pushing its nose down.

“I will use my rifle whenever I want! It is me who is the war hero! Remember that, Private Sidney Pratt? Not you! You didn’t last one day on the battlefields!”

Sid hung his head in shame. The man was right. His tin legs told that story.

Next, Batter turned his attention to the boy.

“And as for you! You are not even supposed to be here. A child at the zoo in the middle of the night! It is forbidden!”

“It’s my fault, Batter,” said Sid. “He’s family!”

“Corporal Batter! Just wait until Sir Frederick Frown hears about this! Now stand aside! I have an escaped monkey to hunt!”

With that, he pushed the pair out of the way and marched off in the direction in which the ape had run.

Eric looked at Sid, tears welling in his eyes. “He’s not really going to kill her, is he?”

“He’s going to try!” said Sid.

“Then we need to stop him!”

cried Eric.

Finding an escaped gorilla in the dead of night is hard. The bombing raid had woken up every single animal in the zoo. Even though the Nazi planes were now heading back to Germany, the animals could not be calmed.

The parrots were squawking.

The lions were roaring.

And the elephants were hooting.

So it was hard to know where in the zoo Gertrude might be, just from listening.

But Eric had an idea!

PING!

As soon as Batter had disappeared into the distance, Eric grabbed Sid by the hand.

“THIS WAY!” he hissed.

“HOLD UP!” said Sid, clanking along.

“Sorry, I forgot,” said the boy.

“So do I sometimes, until they get rusty!”

CLINK! CLANK! CLUNK!

Moments ago, Eric had broken into the zoo’s snack bar to fetch some raisins for Gertrude. As he’d climbed out of the snack-bar window, the bag of raisins had been ripped. The gunshot had spooked the gorilla, but if she’d followed her nose she may very well have found her way to the trail of the fruity treats on the ground. Eric and Sid retraced the boy’s steps, but even using Sid’s torch they couldn’t see any. Perhaps the pigeons had got them?

Or maybe, just maybe, a much bigger creature?

The pair hurried past the flamingos, round the meerkats and along the warthogs to the snack bar. The snack-bar window that Eric had forced open was now flapping in the wind.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

“You don’t think she’s in there, do you…?” asked Sid.

“Shush!” shushed the boy, before nodding his head.

The pair tiptoed over to the window. Sure enough, there was the gorilla, slumped on the floor amid a massive mess of food. There were bags and wrappers everywhere. Gertrude was alternating between swigging from a bottle of fizzy pop and munching on some jelly babies that had been scattered all over the floor.

“BURP!” burped the gorilla. It was as loud as thunder. It even shocked Gertrude. The gorilla had clearly never had fizzy pop before.

“HA! HA!” The pair at the window couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

Gertrude looked up, startled.

“HURGH?” she gurgled.

“Shush, Gertrude! It’s just us!” whispered Eric.

He dashed to the door.

“Locked!” he said.

“And I don’t have the key!” replied Sid. “How are we going to get her safely back in her cage before Batter sees her?”

“We’ll have to climb through the window!”

“At my age?” spluttered Sid.

“I’ll help. Here, let me give you a leg up.”

The old man sighed and muttered to himself. The boy couldn’t work out what he’d said, but it sounded like one of those rude words grown-ups sometimes say that children aren’t allowed to.

Eric put his hands together to form a little cradle and gestured for Sid to step on it. The boy had seen cowboys do this when mounting a horse in Westerns, and it looked like a doddle! However, Eric was not a strapping cowboy, and neither was Sid. The man certainly was not helped by having battered old tin legs. So, after a wobbly start, poor Sid ended up falling through the open window, the back of his trousers getting caught on the hook.

WHOOSH!

Like a magic trick, a RUDE magic trick, the old man’s trousers and undercrackers* were yanked back as he slid downwards.

“ARGH! ME BOTTY!” he exclaimed, and he landed in a crumpled heap on the floor. Eric should really have had his serious face on at this moment, all kind and concerned, but he just couldn’t. Instead he burst out laughing.

“HA! HA! HA!”

Now, laughter is infectious. Either that or gorillas find wrinkly old bottoms funny, because Gertrude burst out laughing too.

“HEE! HEE! HEE!”

If you have never seen a gorilla laugh, it is a wonderful sight to behold!

They rock their heads back, they bare their teeth and thump the floor.

THUMP! THUMP!

“HEE! HEE! HEE!”

“HELP ME!” cried Sid, still lying on the floor.

The boy unhooked the man’s trousers, and then climbed through the window. He helped him up…

CLINK! CLANK! CLUNK!

…and slowly the pair approached the gorilla.

“BURP!” she burped again.

The boy caught a waft.

“POO!” he moaned. “Gorilla burps smell BAD!”

“Wait until you smell what comes out of the other end!” remarked the old man. “That really pongs!”

“HA! HA!” laughed Eric. Anything to do with bottom burps always made him chuckle. “So how are we going to get Gertrude back to her cage?”

“Mmm,” said Sid, surveying the scene. The gorilla looked perfectly content gulping and guzzling away.

“BURP!”

This one was pongy enough to sweep you off your feet.

“I’ve got an idea!” exclaimed the boy. “If Gertrude followed a trail of raisins here, she might just follow a trail back!”

“BINGO!”

The boy beamed with pride, before looking around the snack shop for more bags of raisins. Unfortunately, Gertrude had already demolished all but one. Eric seized the last remaining bag and waggled it in front of the gorilla’s face.

“Gertrude!” he said in a sing-song voice that everyone adopts when talking to animals. “Yummy scrummy raisins!”

“Let me see if I can get this door open!” said Sid. He didn’t want to risk his trousers coming down and the world seeing his bottom again. The man found the spare key on the shelf and unlocked the door.

CLICK!

“DONE IT!” announced Sid, turning back to Eric and Gertrude.

“RAISINS!” called out the boy. “Nice juicy raisins!”

With that, he scattered some raisins in the gorilla’s path.

Just as Eric had thought, Gertrude stood up, and began lolloping towards them, picking each one up and munching it down.

MUNCH! MUNCH! MUNCH!

Eric smiled. His plan was going exactly to plan! He scattered some more raisins all the way to the door. Sid stood proudly saluting by the door, ready to open it like a doorman at a posh hotel.

“This way, madam!” he chirped as he swung the door open.

What none of them realised was that standing on the other side of the door was… BATTER!

The old soldier squeezed the trigger on his rifle, ready to fire…

* It means underpants. Please see your Walliamsictionary.

“NOOOOO!” screamed Eric, jumping between Gertrude and the rifle. He knocked the gun out of Batter’s hands as he did so.

BANG!

A shot rang out. The bullet exploded through the snack-bar roof.

BOOF!

“WHOOP!” cried the gorilla.

Gertrude was terrified and charged at Batter.

Their heads clonked together.

DOINK!

Both fell to the ground, knocked out cold.

“What on earth did you think you were doing, boy?” shouted Sid.

“I was just trying to save Gertrude!” protested Eric.

“You could have got yourself killed! Killed!”

“I’m sorry.”

“And now we are in deep, deep doo-doo!”

Eric looked down at the pair sprawled on the ground.

“Do you think they are all right?” he asked.

“Gertrude or Batter?” asked Sid.

“Well –” the boy hesitated – “I was thinking of the gorilla!”

“Come on! We need to sort both of them out!”

That is what they did. They found a large wheelbarrow, normally used to ferry dung around the zoo.

“Ladies first!” announced Sid, and with great effort they lifted Gertrude into it. She was wheeled back to her cage, which they thought was the safest place for her despite the damage to the roof.

First, Sid and Eric untied the rope, and then attached it to the top of the roof. Next, using the branches of a nearby tree as a pulley, they hoisted the top of the cage back into position. Then, to stop it from falling down again, they tied it off round the trunk of a tree. To hide the damage, they put some hay and twigs around the top of the cage so you couldn’t see where the roof had been torn off.

Finally, they wheeled Gertrude into her cage, gently lifted her out of the wheelbarrow and set her down on a bed of straw.

The gorilla snored away.

“ZZZ! ZZZZ! ZZZZZ!”

“She looks peaceful when she sleeps,” remarked Eric.

“Let’s get out of here before she comes to,” replied Sid. “That was a nasty bump on the head! She might wake up in a foul mood!”

“Gertrude’s never in a foul mood.”

“No, but we’d be safest on the other side of this cage. Come on!”

The boy gave his friend a goodnight kiss on her forehead, just like his mum and dad used to do to him.

“Sleep tight!” he said.

By the time they were out of her cage, dawn was rising over the zoo. With the sun up, Eric and Sid could see plumes of thick, black smoke rising up all over London. This must have been one of the worst nights of bombing in the war so far. Night after night, building by building, London was being flattened. If the explosions of the bombs didn’t bring death and destruction, then the blazes they caused would.

So many buildings in London would now be nothing but a blackened shell. Looking up at the sky above inked with smoke, Eric felt lucky to be alive. Although he was meant to be tucked up in bed at his grandma’s house, perhaps the zoo was the safest place to be, after all.

Now Eric and Sid had to act fast. Soon, more and more people who worked at the zoo would be arriving. They would be asking questions as to why the nightwatchman was sprawled out on the ground.

When they finally got back to the snack bar to deal with Batter, the man and his rifle were nowhere to be seen.

“He’s gone!” called out Eric.

“Oh no I haven’t!” said Batter as he stepped out of the shadows.

“You two are in

ginormous

trouble!”

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