“How did you do that?” asked Tom.
“Well, I stole – I mean ‘borrowed’ – miles of bandage from the pharmacy,” said the porter. “Then all the other children wrapped each other in the bandages so they could be Egyptian mummies. I made a pyramid out of empty cardboard boxes, and they all waited inside. When everything was in place, young Valerie found her way into the pyramid and pretended to be the first archaeologist to find the pharaoh’s tomb.”
“Making my way back to the children’s ward, I couldn’t see a thing, so I got lost,” said Robin. “I wandered into the wrong ward and ended up giving the old dears a fright. They thought a mummy had come back to life! Ha ha!”
“That sounds so exciting,” said Tom. “I love the idea of having a spooky adventure like that.”
“It’s a shame you weren’t here with us last Halloween then, young Mr Tom,” said the porter.
“What happened then?” asked Amber.
“Yes, none of us four were at the hospital back then,” added Robin. “Do tell us!”
“Well, there was a young girl on the ward called Wendy. She was admitted to hospital to have an operation. Wendy hated being in here for so long, as she was missing not just Halloween, when she loved to go out trick or treating, but also her ballroom-dancing classes.”
“So what did you do?” asked Tom.
“I thought, why not combine the two? So I organised a ballroom-dancing competition that started at midnight.”
“That doesn’t sound the least bit spooky!” said Amber.
“Well, young Miss Amber, the twist was, all the children danced with skeletons!”
“Real ones?” asked Tom, rather disturbed.
“No! Of course not! The plastic model ones that the doctors have in their rooms.”
“Thank goodness for that!”
“And I let Wendy win, of course.”
“At least it wasn’t one of the skeletons,” said Robin. “That could have been awkward.”
“Of course, you three were all here at the hospital when the Midnight Gang went surfing!” prompted the porter.
“Oh yes, a boy called Gerald had lost a leg after a horrible road accident,” said Amber.
“That’s awful,” said Tom.
“What was also awful was that Matron told him he now had absolutely no chance of being a professional surfer.”
“Terrible woman!” said Robin.
“But the Midnight Gang were having none of it,” continued the girl. “We helped Gerald up on to one of the porter’s trolleys. Then working together we raced him up and down the stairs all night like he was surfing the perfect wave!”
“Cool!” said Tom.
“Let’s not forget that young fellow who wanted to have tea with the Queen,” slurred the porter. “Sandy was his name.”
“So how did you do that?” asked Tom.
“I am not sure I looked much like the Queen,” said Robin. “I had a shower curtain draped over my shoulders and a bedpan on my head as a crown.”
“I was in charge of the Queen’s corgis!” announced George proudly.
“How?” asked Tom.
“We snuck around the ’ospital wards at night and collected up the fluffiest slippers. Then we attached ’em to wires on a pole, and I moved ’em around and yapped like a dog.”
“It was unbelievably lifelike,” said Robin sarcastically.
“Sandy really enjoyed it!” said George.
“He didn’t enjoy being hit on the head with your pole!”
“That wasn’t my fault!” protested George. “Those corgis were out of control!”
“Quite!” replied Robin.
“Just last week we had a boy on the ward who desperately, desperately wanted to be a comedian,” said Amber.
“David was his name, but he just wasn’t funny,” added Robin. “Painfully unfunny, actually. When telling a joke, David would say the punchline before the set-up. He would say, ‘The tomato saw the salad dressing. Why did the tomato blush?’”
“What?” asked Tom.
“Oh, it gets worse! ‘Is there an owl in there? Who who? Who? Who’s there? Knock, knock!’”
“Make it stop!” said Tom.
“This was his best one: ‘You’re under a vest. Freeze! What did the policeman say to his tummy?’”
“I don’t get it,” said George.
“It should have been, ‘What did the policeman say to his tummy? Freeze! You’re under a vest!’” said Amber.
“I still don’t get it,” replied George.
“Bless poor Mr David,” said the porter. “He was blissfully unaware of how unfunny he was. But the boy longed to hear laughter.”
“So what did you do?” asked Tom.
“I ‘borrowed’ a cylinder of laughing gas,” began the man.
“What’s that?” said Tom.
“Doctors use it to treat pain. But it’s called ‘laughing gas’ because it also makes people laugh. So, without David knowing, I pumped it into a room full of expectant fathers waiting to hear news from the maternity ward. Then I sent young Mr David in there. He told all his back-to-front jokes and – surprise surprise – the expectant fathers all laughed at absolutely everything he said!”
“HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!”
“One of me favourites was when the Midnight Gang swam with dolphins!” remembered George.
“Where was this?” asked Tom.
“In the hospital’s water tank, of course!” replied the porter. “It’s huge! The size of a swimming pool!”
“But what about the dolphins?”
“I pondered ‘borrowing’ a real one from the aquarium, but thought better of it. Instead, with the help of the children, we painted up some inflatable pillows to look like dolphins. Then I used some ropes and pulleys to pull them along the water. That little patient Mohammed, I think he was only six, but he loved every minute of it!”
“The safari was tops!” said George.
“Yes, that was all for these twins, Hugh and Jack,” said the porter. “Hugh had kidney failure and Jack was giving his twin brother one of his kidneys. They were both in hospital for a while because of their operations. So for their Midnight Gang adventure the other children on the ward made animal costumes out of things they found in the hospital. A hose became an elephant’s trunk, a furry bath mat a lion’s mane, a prosthetic leg a giraffe’s neck. We ‘borrowed’ a mobility scooter. That was their jeep. Then the twins drove around the hospital at night as the other children leaped out at them dressed as the wild animals.”
“Marvellous!” said Tom. “Simply marvellous. So have you two boys had your dreams come true yet?”
“My dream came true just a few nights ago,” answered Robin, in the basement of LORD FUNT HOSPITAL. “I thought I would set the Midnight Gang an impossible challenge. At school I am on a music scholarship. I always receive top grades in piano and violin, all sorts of instruments really, and want to be a composer one day. I don’t like to blow my own trumpet, but I can actually blow my own trumpet. My passion is for classical music. Opera mainly. So my dream was to be the conductor of an entire orchestra.”
“This was a challenge,” said the porter. “An orchestra might have a hundred musicians. So I had to borrow children from hospitals all over London to help.”
“What did they play?” asked Tom.
“Medical instruments!” replied Robin. “And I was the conductor. I chose my favourite piece of music, Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony.”
“How did it sound?” asked Tom.
“Awful! But it didn’t matter how it sounded!” said Robin. “It was how it felt!”
Tom could see the sense of wonder on the boy’s face.
“So how did it feel?” he asked.
“It’s hard to say exactly. But I suppose conducting them felt like I was touching the sky!” replied Robin.
�
��Wow!” said Tom. He was going to have to think of something extraordinary if he was to top any of these dreams.
“It’s my turn next!” said George excitedly. “The next time the Midnight Gang springs into action it will be to make my dream come true.”
“Well, just hold on, young Mr George, sir,” said the porter. “I am more than a little stuck on this particular wish.”
“What is it?” asked Tom.
“He wants to fly,” said Amber.
“In a plane?” asked Tom.
“Oh no, no, no! That would be far too simple,” replied Robin. “Our George wants to fly like a superhero. Just take off, and whoosh! Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it’s Super-George!”
Tom looked at George. He was a hefty boy. It would be hard to find someone less suitable to take to the skies. It seemed impossible. Perhaps this was a dream too far, even for the mighty Midnight Gang.
The porter was not so easily defeated.
“We’ll find a way,” he slurred. “Don’t you worry, young Mr George, sir, we always find a way. All it takes is imagination. Right, now it’s getting late, or early depending on how you look at it. I will clear all this up.” The man indicated the North Pole he had created especially for tonight. “Time for you children to go to bed.”
The children were all having too much fun.
“Nooooo!” they whined.
“YES!” replied the porter. “It’s way past all your bedtimes.”
Reluctantly, the four children shuffled out of the freezer room, and off down the corridor.
“And, young Mr Thomas, sir?” he called out.
“Yes?” replied Tom.
“I am not sure if you enjoy wearing that pink, frilly nightdress …”
“No I don’t. Not one bit.”
“I thought as much. I don’t know why Matron would have given you that to wear. She should have plenty of spare pyjamas in her office.”
“Really?” The boy couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Then why would she make me wear this?”
“That lady has darkness in her heart. She enjoys making the children in her care suffer.”
“Why?” asked Tom.
“Matron loves being cruel. It must make her feel powerful. That is why she made you wear that nightdress.”
“I hate her,” said the boy through gritted teeth.
“Don’t. That must be what she wants. If you hate her, she’s won. And your heart will turn dark too. I know it’s hard, but please try not to let her get to you.”
“I’ll try.”
“Good,” said the porter. “And in the meantime I’ll find you some pyjamas.”
“Thank you …” replied Tom. “Sorry, I never really got your name?”
“Just call me ‘Porter’. Everyone else does.”
It seemed strange calling him that, but there wasn’t time to argue. “Well, thank you, Porter.”
“Come on, new boy!” ordered Amber. “Push!”
With a sigh, Tom returned to pushing the wheelchair, and the gang headed in the direction of the lift.
“Freeze! You’re under a vest!” said George. “Ha! Ha! Ha!”
“What are you on about?” asked Robin.
“I just got the joke!”
“Next time I think it might be quicker to post the punchline to you,” joked Robin.
“That would take too long,” replied George, without a hint of irony.
No one dared to speak as the lift made its long journey back up through the hospital to the forty-fourth floor. Amber, George, Robin and the newest member of the Midnight Gang, Tom, all knew they would be in deep trouble if they were discovered out of their beds in the middle of the night. Eagerly, the four children watched the numbers of the floors go up from “B” for basement to …
G, 1, 2, 3 …
It was now the early hours of the morning.
4, 5, 6 …
LORD FUNT HOSPITAL was still and quiet.
7, 8, 9 …
The grown-up patients were all asleep.
10, 11, 12 …
A small staff of doctors and nurses were keeping watch over their patients during the night.
13, 14, 15 …
PING!
The children looked at each other in panic. The lift had stopped, and not at the children’s ward.
“Oh no! We’re busted!” said George.
“Shush!” hissed Amber.
Tom was unlucky enough to be standing right next to the lift doors, which began to slide open.
“Say something, Tom!” whispered Amber.
“Me?” protested the boy.
“Yes! You!” she replied.
The lift doors slid open to reveal a hospital cleaning lady. Her name badge read DILLY.
Dilly stood still, her filthy old mop and bucket in hand, a lit cigarette stuck to her bottom lip. The cleaner’s mouth fell open in shock, and a long tail of ash fell from the cigarette to the floor.
Dilly stared at the group of children with deep suspicion. At the front was a boy in a pink, frilly nightie, with three children all in nightwear behind him.
“Wot you kids doing out of your beds?” demanded the cleaner. Dilly’s voice was deep and gravelly, no doubt from a lifetime of smoking. The cigarette on her lip bounced up and down with each word.
“That’s a very good question, madam!” replied Tom, playing for time. “Actually we’ve been asked by the hospital principal, Sir Quentin Strimmers …”
“Strillers!” hissed Amber.
“… Strillers to check on the quality of the cleaning at the hospital.”
“You wot?” demanded Dilly.
“Yes,” took over Robin. “We’ve been inspecting the entire place from top to bottom.”
PING!
The children all looked relieved as the lift doors began to slide shut. But just in time the old lady put her foot in the way and the doors slid open again.
“Why would Sir Quentin ask a bunch of kids to do that?” demanded Dilly.
For a moment the Midnight Gang looked stumped.
All eyes turned to Robin, who was considered the smartest member of the gang.
“The principal wanted children to inspect the cleanliness of the hospital because,” he began, “as you may have observed, children are shorter than grown-ups and therefore closer to the floor. That makes it easier for us to spot any dust or dirt,” he said.
The other three children looked mightily impressed.
“But you’ve got bandages over your eyes! You can’t even see!” said the cleaner.
It was a good point.
“That’s where I come in!” said Tom. “I am very much the eyes of the group. And, I must say, that floor is a disgrace.”
Dilly was that rare type of cleaner who left everything she touched in a worse state than when she found it. Indeed, she had been cleaning the floor with water that was black with dirt. As a result, there was a dark, dirty smear on the floor where she had just dragged her mop.
“I just cleaned it!” protested Dilly.
“Well, I am very sorry, but it needs doing again,” said Tom.
PING!
The lift doors tried to close again.
Once again, there was no escaping.
The cleaner’s foot stayed firmly in place in the way of the lift’s sliding doors.
A trail of cigarette smoke looped and curled towards the children.
“And I am the nose of the group!” added Amber. “And, I am sorry to say, there is a toilet on the seventh floor that urgently needs cleaning.”
“I just cleaned the bogs there!” complained Dilly.
“Well, you must have missed something,” said Amber.
“Or someone’s just been and deposited something positively medieval,” added Robin.
“Yes, because I can smell it from here!” agreed Amber, wrinkling her nose at the supposed pong.
“I can’t smell nuffink!” remarked George.
Tom knocked him with his hand to get him
to be quiet.
“Now, if you’ll please remove your foot from the lift,” began Tom, “our hospital inspection committee group thing has to be on its way. We don’t want to have to report you to Sir Quentin Strillers, do we?”
The members of the gang all shook their heads and murmured.
“So, if I was you, I would get that toilet on the seventh floor cleaned sharpish!” snapped Amber.
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” said the woman, removing her foot. Another ash tail dropped to the floor.
“And one last thing, Dilly,” said Robin.
“Yeah?”
“You should quit smoking. There’s a rumour going around the hospital that it’s bad for you. The next lift will be going down! Thank you so much!” were the boy’s parting words.
PING!
Finally the lift doors slid shut, and the four children all breathed sighs of relief. The lift began trundling upwards towards the children’s ward. As soon as they were sure they were out of earshot of the cleaning lady, all four burst into fits of laughter.
“HA! HA! HA!”
“Well done, Tom,” said Amber. “Cleaning inspectors! Genius! You got us out of that one. I would pat you on the back if I could.” With her eyes the girl indicated her broken arms, encased in plaster.
“And I would pat you on the back if I was sure where you were standing,” said Robin, a smile breaking out beneath the bandages over his eyes.
“I’ll ’ave to do it then!” said George, patting Tom four times. “That’s a pat from each one of us.”
“There’s three of us!” corrected Amber.
“Sorry, maths was never me strong point,” replied George.
“So does that mean I am now a proper member of the Midnight Gang?” asked Tom hopefully. “After tonight’s adventures, surely the trial period is now over?”
Silence returned to the trundling lift.
“Please give us a moment to confer,” said Amber.
The other three gathered in a corner of the lift and whispered to each other as Tom stood there feeling like a spare part.
The Midnight Gang Page 6