The Midnight Gang
Page 7
“After a meeting of the Midnight Gang,” began Amber slowly, “the board of members have decided …”
“It’s a yes!” said George.
Amber looked most displeased that the boy had stolen her thunder. “I wanted to make him wait!” she protested.
“THANK YOU!” said Tom. He felt like dancing. At his boarding school, Tom had always felt like an outsider. He wasn’t in the rugby gang. Or the cool gang. Or even the swots’ gang. Now he was a member of the most exciting gang in the world. The Midnight Gang. “I am so, so happy.”
“Membership fees are one thousand pounds a year payable in cash to me,” added Robin.
Tom looked confused for a moment, before Robin’s wry smile signalled he was pulling his leg.
“I’ve never paid it,” said a worried George, clearly not getting the joke.
“Well, you can give it to me first thing in the morning,” replied Robin.
“But I ’aven’t got a thousand quid!” protested George.
“He’s joking, you ignoramus!” said Amber. “You do have to swear an oath, though.”
“A solemn oath,” added Robin. “An oath that pledges allegiance to the Midnight Gang.”
“Repeat after me,” said Amber. “I do solemnly swear …”
“I do solemnly swear …” began George.
“Not you, George!” said Amber. “You are already a member.”
“Oh yes,” replied George.
“I do solemnly swear …” repeated Tom.
“That I will always put the needs of my brothers and sisters in the gang over my own …” continued Amber.
“That I will always put the needs of my brothers and sisters in the gang over my own …”
“And keep the secrets of the Midnight Gang forever and a day.”
“And keep the secrets of the Midnight Gang forever and a day.”
PING!
The lift doors opened at the forty-fourth floor.
“Congratulations!” said Amber. “Tom, you are now officially a member of the Midnight Gang.
As soon as the lift doors slid open on to the top floor of the hospital, the four fell silent. Making their way back into the children’s ward, they knew they had to be as quiet as possible. Matron would be waking up soon. That is, if she hadn’t already.
In the silence of the dead of night, every little noise sounded deafening:
The clunk of the tall double doors that opened on to the children’s ward.
The squelch of Tom’s bare feet on the shiny floor.
The squeak of Robin’s leather slippers every time he took a step.
The crunch of the wheelchair’s flat tyre.
Tom’s heavy breathing at having to push Amber.
George humming a jaunty tune to himself.
“Shush!” hissed Amber. “We are meant to be being quiet!”
“Sorry!”
It was dark in the children’s ward. The only light was either spilling from the matron’s office at the end of the ward, or from Big Ben’s clock face glowing through the window.
The Midnight Gang was relieved to see that Matron was still asleep in her office, snoring away.
“ZZZZZ, ZZZZZ, ZZZZZ, ZZZZZZ …”
Her head was slumped on her desk. A closer inspection from Tom revealed the lady’s lips were still smeared with chocolate. Plus a chocolatey puddle of drool had seeped from her mouth on to her desk. Tom smiled to himself at how undignified she looked. Then he tiptoed back to his bed, so as not to wake her up.
“Come on, boys! Help me first!” ordered Amber. The girl instructed the three boys to lift her out of the wheelchair so they could place her in her bed.
However, just as they had hoisted her up a voice came out of the darkness: “Where have you been this time then?”
In shock, the boys dropped Amber on the floor.
bawled the girl.
“I asked ‘where have you been this time’?”
It was Sally.
The little girl with the pale skin and the bald head was still in her bed in the far corner of the children’s ward. Once again, she had been left behind as the other kids had their adventures.
“Nowhere!” answered Amber curtly. She was still smarting after having been dropped on to the floor by the boys as she was being delivered back into her bed.
“You can’t have been nowhere,” replied Sally. “You must have been somewhere.”
“Go back to sleep!” hissed Amber.
“No!” replied Sally. “Tom promised he would tell me all about the night’s adventures. Didn’t you, Tom?”
All the children turned towards Tom, who was sliding between the sheets on his bed.
“Well …” said Tom. Inside, the boy was squirming. He knew beyond any doubt that the other three would hate having the secrets of the Midnight Gang divulged to anyone outside the circle of trust. The boy hesitated. He felt torn. Tom had only just sworn an oath to the Midnight Gang, but his heart ached for Sally who they’d left alone in the ward night after night. However, he felt as if he had no choice.
“I didn’t promise anything,” he replied. Immediately Tom felt a deep pang of shame to have lied.
“You did!” Sally’s voice was cracking. The little girl was becoming increasingly upset with them all. “Tonight, just after midnight I asked Tom to take me with him. He said ‘no’ but I made him promise to tell me all about it afterwards.”
“Did you, Tom?” asked George.
Tom hesitated for a moment, before replying. “No.”
“YOU DID!” protested Sally.
“I DIDN’T!”
“DID, DID, DID, DID, DID!”
“Please be quiet!” pleaded Amber.
“NO I WON’T!” replied Sally. For such a little girl, she had a big voice. “Not until you tell me what happened tonight. I’ve watched you creep off after midnight night after night. You need to tell me what you are getting up to!”
“Please, Sally, I beg you, go back to sleep,” said Amber. “If Matron finds out, we’ll all be in big trouble.”
“NOOOO!” shouted back Sally.
The noise must have woken up Matron, as in an instant her snoring stopped.
“ZZZZZ, ZZZZZ, ZZ—”
From the other side of the glass that divided the ward from Matron’s office, the children watched as the lady rose unsteadily to her feet. Her hair was sticking up on end and her make-up was smeared across her face. She looked like a clown who had been dragged through a hedge backwards. With a wobble or two, Matron regained her composure and marched through the door into the ward. All the children kept as still as statues in their beds. They didn’t dare even breathe, which rather gave the game away that something must be going on.
“I know you nasty little beasts are up to no good,” snarled Matron. “And perhaps you got away with it this time, but let me tell you I’ve got my eyes on each and every one of you.”
The lady paced up and down the beds, bringing her face close to each of the children. The smell of her perfume was so strong that when she reached Tom the boy could actually feel it tickling his nose. For a terrifying moment, he thought he would sneeze. Then the feeling passed. Before it came back again with a vengeance.
“AATCHOOOO!” The boy sneezed right in Matron’s face.
Tom was so frightened that he didn’t dare open his eyes to see the globules of his snot no doubt hanging like icicles from the lady’s face. Instead he kept his eyes tightly shut and pretended that his sneeze hadn’t woken him up.
Matron was so disgusted by having been snotted on so spectacularly that she retreated at speed into her office. Once inside she put on a pair of transparent rubber gloves, and removed the snot from her face with antiseptic wipe after antiseptic wipe. It was some time before she was satisfied that every speck of snot was removed. Then, to console herself, Matron had another chocolate. Instantly her eyes glazed over and she fell asleep again. Her head thudded on her table as the special snoozy pellet in the chocolates knocked he
r out.
“ZZZZ, ZZZZ, ZZZZ, ZZZ.”
“Well done, new boy!” hissed Amber to Tom. “This is all your fault. Why on earth did you have to promise Sally you would tell her everything?”
“I didn’t promise anything.” Tom was too deep into his lie to back out now. Each time he lied, the boy felt a little part of him die inside.
“It doesn’t matter now!” whispered George. “All that matters is that no one says another word tonight. Matron is on to us! Got it?”
“Yes, we’ve got it, dear,” said Robin. “Now you have to be quiet too!”
“Stop being silly, Robin. Just stop talking and go to sleep!”
“I would love to go to sleep! As soon as you stop telling me to go to sleep and actually be quiet for one moment I will!”
“Will both of you stupid boys shut up and go to sleep right now!” whispered Amber.
After that, none of them said another word.
“Breakfast! Children wake up, wake up, wake up, it’s breakfast time!”
This was the cry that woke Tom and all the children in the ward at dawn, just a couple of hours after they had gone to bed.
Matron woke up with a start. A chocolate wrapper was stuck to her forehead.
“What what what?” shouted Matron. It was clear she didn’t know if it was day or night, or indeed if she was awake or asleep.
Tootsie was the hospital’s dinner lady. She was a pleasing plump woman with a huge Afro hairstyle and the sunniest of smiles. As always, Tootsie was pushing her food trolley.
“Oh no, it’s you,” snarled Matron as she entered the ward.
“Yes, it’s me, Tootsie!” replied the lady brightly. “I hope you haven’t been asleep on the job again, Matron!”
Most of the children were sitting up in their beds now. Tootsie always made them smile, especially when she took on their sworn enemy, Matron.
“No, no, no!” lied Matron. “Of course I wasn’t asleep.”
“What were you doing then?” pressed Tootsie.
“Well, I, er, I was just going through a form on my desk, and erm … the writing was very small so I had to put my face right next to it! Now get on and serve the children their breakfast this instant!”
“Yes, of course, Matron!”
As Matron busied herself at the mirror, trying to look presentable, Tootsie wheeled her trolley over to Tom’s bed.
“Good morning …” Tootsie strained to read the name that had been written on the board above his bed, so she brought down her reading glasses that were nestling on top of her frizzy hair.
“Thomas! Good morning, good morning and good morning to you!”
Tom wasn’t sure quite why she had to say “good morning” quite so many times, but he couldn’t help smiling. When the lady spoke, it sounded as if she was singing a song.
“Good morning!” said Tom.
“Good morning, good morning and good morning,” she replied.
Tom couldn’t think of anything else to say so once again blurted out, “Good morning!”
“Good morning! And what a good morning it is. Good morning, one and all! Now, Thomas, what would you like for breakfast?”
“What have you got?” asked Tom.
“Everything!” replied Tootsie.
“Everything?” asked the boy. It was too good to be true!
“Everything!” she repeated confidently.
All the other children chuckled. This was Tom’s first morning in the hospital and clearly they all knew something he didn’t.
The food at Tom’s boarding school was terrible. Despite the fees being disgustingly expensive, it seemed as if the food hadn’t changed at all since the school was founded hundreds of years ago.
A typical week’s menu looked like this:
Monday
Breakfast
Gruel
Lunch
Poached kidneys
Dinner
Calf’s-head soup
Tuesday
Breakfast
Pig’s trotters on toast
Lunch
Lard sandwiches
Dinner
Stewed lamb’s tongue
Wednesday
Breakfast
Leftover stewed lamb’s tongue
Lunch
Pigeon soup
Dinner
Boiled eel
Thursday
Breakfast
Offal
Lunch
Braised swan’s neck
Dinner
Roast badger with beetroot gravy
Friday
Breakfast
Sparrow’s eggs on toast
Lunch
Nettle stew
Dinner
Deep-fried otter
Saturday
Brunch
Toads on toast
Tea
A horse’s hoof, with as much boiled cabbage as you can eat
Dinner
Smoked vole
Sunday
Breakfast
A raw onion
Lunch
Roasted mole with all the trimmings, followed by bone-marrow jelly
Dinner
Brussels sprout surprise (the surprise being it was just a plate of Brussels sprouts)
Of course, Tom was delighted by the prospect of being able to have anything and everything to eat. As he gave his order to Tootsie, his mouth began to water.
“Hot chocolate – oh, with whipped cream on top and marshmallows on the side; a hot buttered croissant – in fact, make that two hot buttered croissants; banana muffins; poached eggs with bacon and sausage – two sausages, please, actually three sausages – brown sauce on the side; and to finish I think I’ll have blueberry pancakes with maple syrup, please! Thank you so much! Oh and one more sausage.”
This was going to be the best breakfast ever. So why were all the other children on the ward hooting with laughter?
“HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!”
Tootsie answered Tom with a question. “Toast or cornflakes?”
“But you did say you had ‘everything’, Tootsie!” replied Tom, bemused.
“Yes, I know I did, Thomas. The truth is we’ve had a lot of cutbacks here at LORD FUNT. The hospital is becoming a sad place now. The new principal has slashed the money for the patients’ food. No one wants to stay here a moment longer than they absolutely have to.”
“No, I suppose not,” replied the boy.
“And I know from working here for thirty years that it makes the patients happy to think they can have absolutely anything their hearts desire for breakfast.”
“But they can’t,” said Tom.
Tootsie shook her head and sighed. This new boy just didn’t understand. “As long as the patients only ask for toast or cereal, then they can still believe that they can have anything they want. They’ll forget they are in a crummy old hospital that should have been demolished years ago and think they are staying in the Ritz Hotel!”
Tom smiled. Now he understood perfectly, and was determined to play along. “Why, thank you, Tootsie. You know what, I think this morning I’ll just have a piece of toast.”
“I am all out of toast.”
“Cornflakes it is then!” said Tom. “That was my first choice anyway.”
The boy didn’t mind at all. He rather liked cornflakes.
“I like lashings of milk on my cornflakes,” added the boy hopefully.
“Or would you prefer cream?”
“Ooh, yes, please!”
“That’s a shame as I don’t have any cream.”
“Milk is fine then.”
“I don’t have any milk either. Have you ever had cornflakes with a dash of cold tea?” asked Tootsie.
It wouldn’t seem appealing if you had read it on a menu, but the way the lady said it with that musical tone of hers made cornflakes with cold tea sound absolutely scrumptious.
With the flair of a master chef, Tootsie scattered the cornflakes from the box into a chipped gree
n bowl with a single flick of her wrist. Then, from as high as her arm would allow, she tipped the tea urn and poured the dark brown liquid into the bowl. It splashed all over Tom’s bed covers.
“There we are, Thomas! And I wish you the goodest of mornings! Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
“Good morning,” repeated Tootsie.
“Good morning,” said Tom again.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
If one of them didn’t stop, they could go on wishing each other “good morning” until the end of time.
Tom had to step out of the loop, so opted for a “thank you”.
“No, thank you,” said Tootsie.
“Thank you.”
“No, thank you!”
“Thank you.”
“No, thank you!”
It was starting again! So the boy nodded and said nothing. Tootsie nodded back and moved on to Amber’s bed.
“Good morning, Amber, and what can I get you this fine morning?” asked the lady.
“Good morning, Tootsie!”
“And good morning to you.”
“Let’s not do that all morning again, please. Now today for a change I won’t have the freshly squeezed orange juice, blackberries with vanilla yoghurt and honey and the pancakes with nuts, whipped cream and chocolate sauce.”
“Are you sure?” asked Tootsie.
“Quite sure. I think today what I really fancy is some cornflakes with … let me think … cold tea!”
“Coming right up, Amber!”
As Tom tried gamely to enjoy his “unusual” breakfast, he noticed Tootsie lean in and whisper in Amber’s ear.
“Children’s footprints and wheelchair-tyre tracks have been found in the freezer room …”
“What?” asked Amber.
“The hospital principal, Sir Mr Strillers, was down there this morning inspecting it.”
“Well, it wasn’t us!” lied Amber, clearly flustered.
“I never said it was, dearie. But if it wasn’t you, who was it?”