Abigail was very excited. The paint had finally arrived! Her room was going to be pink and green. With a blue ceiling. And stars. She felt that the stars were very important. They would be painted above her so she could see them when she went to bed, just like the ones you saw at night. Except hers would be different colours, lots of different colours. She just wasn’t quite sure how they were going to get up that high or how to make a star shape. But she was a very clever bear, she was sure she would find a way.
That morning after breakfast, they all went up to Abigails room.
‘We may as well start here,’ said Patrick, ‘there are the most colours to do.’
Patrick put on his sunglasses.
‘Very funny,’ said Abigail with a sniff. Patrick shaded his eyes with a paw. Ignoring him and winding a scarf carefully around her head she tied it under her chin. She didn’t want any paint on her fur, it needed to stay on the walls. The floor was covered with an old big white sheet that they’d found left in a cupboard. It was a bit slippery. Abigail picked up a paint brush.
‘That brush is too big for you,’ said Patrick, ‘here take this smaller one.’
Ignoring him Abigail heaved the brush up over her head. Then fell over backwards.
Opening the pink can of paint both polars picked up small brushes and started on a wall. Abigail came over to help. After a while her paw began to ache and she shook it. Drops of pink paint flew into the air and both the polars ducked. Painting was harder than it looked and it was taking ages.
‘I can help too,’ said Grigs, bouncing up. He tried to pick up the big brush with his paws and hit Preston on the head.
‘Ow!! Be careful!’
Grigs waved his tail too and fro. ‘Grr’sorry.’
Abigail looked at Grig’s tail thoughtfully. Then looked at the walls. Then back at his tail. ‘Do we have any string?’
Patrick nodded and climbing up onto the side of a box he leant in. ‘Here, what do you want it for?’
‘Stay still Grigs’ said Abigail, ‘and stretch out your tail.’
The polars watched what she was doing. ‘Actually,’ muttered Preston, ‘that’s not a bad idea…’
With the paintbrush tied to the tigers tail the painting took no time at all. True it was hard to keep him painting the same part of the wall but they soon filled in the gaps. Patrick and Preston had climbed up a very tall ladder and laying back on a small piece of wood were painting the ceiling blue. They both wore small white raincoats even though Abigail had suggested if the paint came off, blue fur would match their scarves and it wouldn’t matter at all. The only question now was how to paint on the stars. Abigail looked at Grigs again.
‘It’s not going to work, his tail waves around too much to paint stars,’ said Preston, carefully climbing out of his raincoat. ‘I think you’ll have to make do with just a blue ceiling.’
Abigail shook her head. ‘It has to have stars.’
‘I’ve made a star shape. Perhaps we could paint them down here and stick them on somehow,’ said Patrick. ‘Get some glue and do it some other time.’
Abigail sat down with a sigh. The room looked beautiful but it had to have stars. She really wanted them. Looking up at the ceiling she glanced at Grigs again. He was having a snooze, his paws in the air. Thoughtfully, Abigail wrinkled her nose.
‘This will never work,’ Preston shook his head and crossed his paws, ‘never ever work. I don’t know what you were thinking. It’s going to end in tears. Or a lot of paint all over us.’
Laying on his back on the floor Grigs looked at the stars stuck to his paws. Each was dipped in paint of a different colour. He waved one too and fro.
‘Keep still!’ said Abigail, ‘the paint will come off. Are you ready?’
‘Well…’ said the Tiger doubtfully, ‘are you sure this will be fun.’
Abigail nodded her head. Then nodded it some more. ‘Definetly. The most fun you’ve ever had. Just stay there.’ She beckoned to the polars, ‘come on what are you waiting for, let’s take a bit of the sheet each.’ With a sigh, Preston picked up an edge, Patrick took another and Abigail stretched out her paws and held tightly onto the other side. ‘Ready? On three! One! Two…. Three!’ With a heave they pulled the sheet up hard and the tiger flew into the air. With a thud his paws hit the ceiling. Four different coloured stars appeared on the blue paint.
‘Whee!.. I’m bouncing! Upside down!’ Grigs waved his paws around as he hurtled back down towards them.
‘And again,’ shouted Abigail heaving the sheet back up into the air, ‘I need lots of stars!’
‘Look it worked!’ sighed Abigail happily, finally stepping back and looking up. She dropped the sheet and twirled around. ‘I told you it would and it looks beautiful!’
‘Coming down again!’ paws flailing the tiger fell towards the floor. ‘I’m not feeling very well,’
Abigail looked at the sheet that she’d dropped. ‘Ops!’
There was a loud thud. Then a squeak. Then another. Patrick and Preston lay flat on their backs under a mound of stripy fur.
‘Did I land on you?’ said Grigs. ‘Thanks.’
Giggling Abigail sighed happily. Her room looked beautiful. And she had stars. Lots and lots and lots of them…