Drusilla was sitting in her father’s study. She picked up an exercise
book from his desk, in order not to spill tea on it, but immediately
recognised the name on the label, as she was responsible for the boy’s
Yuck! What’s that stain on the back? she exclaimed.
Her father, the Acting Head, glanced at it and said, Oh, it must be that
large moth thing that flew out of the parcel that I was telling you about.
I swatted it with Boothroyd-Smythe’s unmarked prep.
It must have been huge! commented Drusilla.
No, he doesn’t tend to write enough, frowned Gus.
I meant the insect.
Oh, emm..yes. I looked it up on a JNCC website, which represents a centre
at Peterborough. They like you to send specimens to them so they can
check on invasive species. I peeled it off and sent them the remains.
Did you look it up?
No, I asked the biology lab technician and he said that it was probably a
Venezuelan Poodle Moth. Makes sense.
The outline looks like one of those furbies that people used to collect.
Oh, never mind. I wonder what the experts know about it? Drusilla
Very little. It’s found in the Gran Sabana, Gus expatiated.
Ooh, that sounds as if it might emerge from Pizza Express’ latest
line! Dru grimaced. I wouldn’t want to find that in my lettuce.
That’s a Grana Padana! said Gus. That was the only pizza he would
have, as he had been forced into ingesting fast food on an outing
with the boys and, once he had found a flavour he could tolerate, he
stuck with the relatively safe and familiar.
Anyway, he continued, we have to go and see Aunt Augusta. She needs
to know about her sister and her new nephew. We need to visit Wyvern
Mote and you may want to reflect on the fact that you have a Venezuelan