he thought it might be a trick question when his Maths teacher asked him what 2 + 2 was, so he answered 5 …
chalk dust set off a sneezing fit, and he sneezed right in his headmaster’s face, covering Mr Thews in snot.
But now here he was, standing in the middle of a hospital ward, wearing a pink, frilly nightdress.
“It fits you perfectly!” laughed Matron. Once again, it was only her that was laughing. Then she checked her watch, which was pinned to her uniform. “One minute past eight. Way past all your bedtimes! Right, children. Lights out!”
Matron began to march in the direction of her office at the end of the ward.
As if they were all playing Grandma’s Footsteps, she suddenly turned round after a few paces to see if any of the children had moved. Then she did it again. And again. Matron gave one last swivel-eyed look at the children, before switching off the light.
CLICK!
The ward descended into darkness. Tom hated the dark. He was relieved that some light came from the giant clock face of the Houses of Parliament, not far away from the hospital across the rooftops of London. People called the clock tower “Big Ben”, after the huge bell inside it that chimed every hour.
BONG! The light from the clock face glowed eerily through the tall windows.
There was also a small desk lamp in Matron’s office.
The lady sat there behind the glass, staring out into the gloom. She was scanning the beds in the children’s ward for any sign of movement.
Silence.
Then out of that silence Tom heard a sound. It was the sound of a tin opening. Then followed the sound of paper rustling. But not just any paper. It sounded like the crinkly silver paper that sweets are wrapped in. Then Tom heard the sound of munching.
Tom hadn’t eaten since lunchtime, and he had barely eaten his lunch as school dinners were so disgusting. Today it had been liver and boiled beetroot, followed by stewed rhubarb. Lying there on his hospital bed, Tom could feel his tummy rumbling. When he heard another sweet being unwrapped, and another, he couldn’t help calling out softly in the dark, “Please can I have one?”
“Shush!” came a voice back. Tom was pretty sure it was coming from George’s bed.
“Please?” whispered Tom. “I haven’t eaten for ages.”
“Shush!” came another voice. “Any louder and you’ll get us all into trouble.”
“I only want one!” said Tom.
The boy must have spoken too loudly as at that moment …
CLICK!
… the lights in the children’s ward flickered back on.
Blinking at the brightness, Tom could make out Matron rushing out of her office.
“THERE IS NO TALKING AFTER LIGHTS OUT!” she shouted. “Now who was talking?”
All the children remained silent.
“You must tell me now who was talking or you will all be in deep, deep trouble!”
She scanned the ward for signs of anyone cracking under pressure. She looked to George, who looked guilty.
“Was it you, George?” she demanded.
George shook his head.
“Speak up, boy!”
Even from across the room, Tom could tell George’s mouth was full.
George tried to speak, but because of the large quantity of chocolate in his mouth, he couldn’t form words. “Mmm, mmm, mmm,” he murmured.
“What have you got in your mouth?”
George shook his head and tried to say “nothing” but it came out as, “Mmm, mmm, mmm.”
Matron approached his bed like a crocodile stalking its prey. “George! You are meant to be on a strict diet after your operation. But you are scoffing chocolates again, aren’t you?”
George shook his head.
The lady whipped back his bed sheet to reveal a large tin of chocolates. The tin was huge. It was the kind that your family might receive at Christmas and would last until next Christmas.
“You greedy pig!” said Matron. “These are confiscated!”
With that, she snatched the tin from his hands and whipped a tissue from a nearby box. “Now spit out the one you have in your mouth.”
Reluctantly, the boy did so.
“Who sent you these?” she demanded. “I know it couldn’t have been your father. I am not sure they are allowed chocolates in prison!”
Tom could tell George was angry, but the boy was doing his best to keep it in.
“They came from me local newsagent,” replied George. “I’m ’is favourite customer.”
“I bet you are! Look at the size of you!”
“You see, ’e knows I love these chocolates the most.”
“What is this stupid man’s name?”
“Raj,” replied George.
“Raj what?”
“Raj the newsagent.”
“I mean what’s his surname, you foolish child?”
“Dunno.”
“Well, I will try to trace him and with any luck have his shop closed down. After your operation, you are forbidden from eating chocolates, George.”
“Sorry, Matron.”
“‘Sorry’ isn’t good enough! The hospital principal, Sir Quentin Strillers, will have to be told about you defying doctor’s orders like this, George!”
“Yes, Matron,” answered the boy sorrowfully.
“I will deal with you in the morning! Now go to sleep! All of you!”
Matron stalked back towards her office. Once again, like Grandma’s Footsteps, she turned round several times to check the children were as still as statues.
CLICK!
The lights went off again, and Matron sat in her office. After a moment, the lady did the most incredible thing. She opened the tin and started scoffing the chocolates herself!
Matron seemed to like the big purple wrapped ones the best, as she made her way through them at quite a pace. She had barely popped one in her mouth when the next one was already being unwrapped ready for scoffing. Time passed and the more she ate, the sleepier she became. By nine o’clock, her eyelids were flickering. Still she ate and ate and ate. Perhaps she hoped the sugar in the chocolates would keep her awake. Strangely, they seemed to be having the opposite effect. By 10pm, her eyes were closing for a few seconds at a time. Still she ate and ate and ate. By 11pm, she was desperately trying to prop up her head in her hands, but it was becoming heavier and heavier and heavier. The scoffing slowed down too, and soon the chocolate mush dribbled out of her mouth and her head hit her desk with a loud …
THUD!
Through the glass, Matron could be heard snoring.
“ZZZZZ, ZZZZZ, ZZZZZ, ZZZZZ …”
The children on the ward all remained silent for a moment. Then out of the darkness someone whispered, “Well done, George.”
“I think the plan’s workin’!” he whispered back. George’s cockney accent made his voice stand out.
“What plan?” asked Tom.
“Shush!” came another voice.
“Go to sleep, new boy! Stop poking your nose into other people’s business,” said a girl. “Now, let’s all get ready to go at midnight.”
But of course Tom couldn’t sleep, especially now he knew the children were up to no good. What was going to happen at midnight?
The glow from the clock face of Big Ben shone through the tall window behind Tom’s bed. Suddenly Tom could see shadows flashing through the children’s ward. Figures were moving in the darkness.
Tom was frightened and couldn’t help but gasp. “Aaah!”
Just then he felt a hand on his mouth, silencing him.
This made Tom even more frightened.
“Shush!” hissed someone. “Don’t make a sound. We don’t want anyone wakin’ up Matron.”
The hand was soft and fleshy and smelled of chocolate, and as Tom’s eyes adjusted to the dark he realised it was indeed George’s.
Tom’s eyes darted over to the matron’s office. The lady was still fast asleep in her chair, her head resting on her desk, snorin
g away.
“ZZZZZ, ZZZZZ, ZZZZZ, ZZZZZZ …”
“Not one sound!” repeated George.
Tom nodded his agreement to the boy, who slowly removed his hand.
Then Tom looked behind him towards the giant clock. He could see across the rooftops of London. It was approaching midnight.
Soon it was clear that it wasn’t just George who was out of his bed. Robin was also there, pushing Amber along in a wheelchair. The wheelchair was old and rusty, and even had a flat tyre. Because Robin had bandages over his eyes, he couldn’t see a thing. Amber’s bandaged legs banged straight into the wall.
“OW!” she cried.
“Shush!” said Robin and George. Tom found himself joining in too.
“Shush!”
“Let me!” said George. He guided Robin to one side, and then took over the pushing of Amber. Robin put his hand on George’s shoulder, and like a rather pitiful conga the trio shuffled out of the ward.
“Where are you going?” asked Tom.
“Shush!” the three children replied.
“Can you please stop telling me to ‘shush’ all the time!” protested Tom.
“Just go to sleep, new boy!” hissed Amber.
“But …” Tom protested.
“You are not in our gang!” added George.
“But I really want to be in your gang,” pleaded Tom.
“Well, you can’t be, mate!” replied George.
“But it’s not fair!” moaned Tom.
“Please can you turn the volume down, dear!” snapped Robin.
“YES, BE QUIET!” said Amber.
“I am being quiet!” replied Tom.
“You are not being quiet! You are talking and that’s not being quiet! We all have to be quiet!” said Amber.
“Then you be quiet!” said Tom.
“Oh for goodness’ sake, will you all please be quiet?!” said Robin, a little too loudly.
All the children’s heads turned towards the matron’s office at the end of the ward. Matron stirred a little at the noise, but didn’t wake up. There was a collective sigh of relief.
“The ol’ moo shouldn’t wake up for a couple of hours at least,” said George. “There was one of my special snoozy pellets that Dr Luppers gave me pushed inside each of those chocolates.”
“Well done for remembering she liked the purple ones the best,” said Amber.
“No point ruinin’ a whole tin of chocolates, was there?” replied George with a smirk.
“You crafty devils!” said Tom.
“Why, thank you!” replied Robin, bowing his head as if for applause.
“Now, new boy,” said Amber, “go back to bed right now. And, remember, you did not see a thing! Let’s go.”
With that, the three friends trundled out of the double doors. At that moment the chimes of Big Ben started.
BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG!
Tom listened and counted. Twelve bongs. It was midnight.
The boy was sitting up in his bed. Now it was just him and Sally left in the children’s ward. He looked over to her bed. She was asleep, as she had been since Tom arrived in the ward quite a few hours ago.
Despite his swollen head, Tom felt restless. There was no way he wanted to miss out on all the fun. So he took a giant leap into the unknown, and decided to follow them. Tom felt like a super-spy. But the feeling didn’t last. As the boy eased himself out of bed, his left foot went straight into the bedpan on the floor.
Tom couldn’t prise his foot out of the bedpan. The boy wanted to shout out in frustration, but knew this would only make matters worse. The last thing he wanted to do was wake up Matron, who was still snoring away in her office. The boy looked over to Sally’s bed in the far corner of the ward. She was lying in bed, a glint of light from Big Ben just catching the top of her bald head. Tom didn’t want to wake her up either.
At least the bedpan wasn’t full, he thought.
As quickly and quietly as he could, Tom reached down and prised his foot from the bedpan. Then he tiptoed out of the children’s ward. To his annoyance, his bare feet made squelching noises on the shiny floor.
SQUELCH
SQUELCH
SQUELCH
SQUELCH
As his fingers touched the heavy swing doors at the entrance to the ward, he was seconds from freedom. Just then a voice made Tom jump out of his skin.
“So, new boy, where are you going?”
The boy turned round. It was Sally.
“Nowhere,” he lied.
“You can’t be going nowhere; you must be going somewhere.”
“Please just go back to sleep,” pleaded Tom. “You will wake up Matron.”
“Oh no, they do this every night. That nasty woman won’t wake up for hours.”
“I really think you should get some rest.”
“Boring!”
“It’s not boring,” replied Tom. “Now come on, go back to sleep.”
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?”
“I mean ‘no’. Come on, Tom, take me with you,” said Sally.
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?”
“I mean ‘no’.”
“Why?” protested the girl.
The reason Tom didn’t think Sally should come was that she looked weak. He was worried that she would slow him down. But he didn’t want to say that. That would hurt her feelings. So he said something else instead.
“Look, Sally, I am just going to catch up with the others and tell them they need to come straight back to bed.”
“Liar.”
“No I’m not!” he said with a little too much gusto, which made him seem like he was lying.
“You are lying. Liar, liar, pants on fire!”
Tom shook his head a little too vigorously.
“I know you must think I’m not going to keep up with you or something,” said Sally.
“No!”
“Yes. Come on! Admit it! I’m not stupid!”
No, thought Tom, this girl is smart. Super smart. There weren’t any girls in Tom’s boarding school so he had hardly met any. Tom hadn’t thought that girls could be smart. The boy immediately had a feeling that this girl could beat him at everything. Tom didn’t like that feeling.
“No, it’s not that, honest,” lied the boy. Then as he stood there looking at her his curiosity got the better of him. “Sally, can I ask you something?”
“You can ask.”
“Why have you got no hair?”
“I decided to shave it all off so I could look exactly like a boiled egg,” replied Sally, as quick as a flash.
Tom chuckled. Whatever the girl might have lost, it wasn’t her sense of humour.
“Is it because of your illness?”
“Yes and no.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s actually the treatment that did this.”
“The treatment?!” Tom couldn’t believe it. If the treatment did this, then what did the illness do? “But you are going to get better, though?”
The girl shrugged. “I don’t know.” Then she quickly changed the subject. “Do you think you will ever recover from a cricket ball hitting you on the head?!”
Tom chuckled. “I hope not. If I do, then I have to go back to school.”
“I wish I could go back to school.”
“What?” The boy had never heard another child say such a thing.
“I have been in this place for months now. I miss my school. Even the horrible teachers.”
Even though Tom had only just met Sally, it was as if he was talking to an old friend. Then the boy realised he had to leave right now if he was to have a chance of catching up with the others. “I have to go.”
“And you definitely aren’t going to take me?”
Tom looked at Sally. She looked too unwell to get out of bed, let alone go on some crazy adventure. Tom felt guilty to be leaving her behind, but he f
elt he had no choice.
“Maybe next time,” lied the boy.
Sally smiled. “Look, Tom, I understand. The others have never invited me. You go. But I want you to promise me something.”
“What?” he asked.
“I want you to tell me all about the night’s adventure when you get back.”
“I will,” he said.
“Promise?”
“Promise.” Tom looked Sally right in the eyes as he said it. He really didn’t want to let his new friend down.
Then the boy pushed open the heavy swing doors. Light spilled in from the corridor. Just before he disappeared from sight Sally said, “I hope it’s an awfully big adventure.”
He smiled at the girl before he pushed the doors open and was swallowed up by the light.
Pacing down the brightly lit corridor outside the children’s ward, it suddenly occurred to Tom that he had absolutely no idea where he was going. His new friend Sally had delayed him somewhat, and now the other three children were long gone.
What’s more, LORD FUNT HOSPITAL was a spooky place after dark. Distant sounds echoed down the long corridors. The building was tall and wide. There were forty-four floors of wards and operating rooms. There was everything from rooms for delivering babies to a mortuary where people were taken after they died. The hospital was home to hundreds of patients, and nearly as many staff. At midnight all the patients should be fast asleep, but there would still be night staff, including cleaners and security guards, roaming the corridors. If Tom was discovered out of his bed, he would be in big trouble. What’s more, he was wearing a pink, frilly nightdress. If anyone was to see him, he would have some serious explaining to do.
Tom looked to the direction signs on the wall, which weren’t much help as letters had fallen off.
ENTRANCE & EXIT had become N IT.
ACCIDENT & EMERGENCY was now CIDE R.
RECEPTION read simply P O.
SURGERY now read SU ER.
RADIOLOGY had become RAD LOG, whatever that was.
ADMINISTRATION was now MIN T.
THEATRE was HEAT.
CHILDREN’S WARD read simply WAR, which might not be such a bad description of what it was like in there.
The Midnight Gang Page 3