George had insisted that all the remaining balloons be taken back to the hospital for another attempt. Reluctantly, the porter had tied them to the lights on the roof and they were bouncing up and down on the ambulance as they sped through the streets of London.
The man drove the vehicle as fast as he could. They had to get back to the hospital as quickly as possible. Everyone had to be in their beds before Dilly had found a way out of the gift shop, and also of course before Matron woke up.
Otherwise they would all be in deep, deep trouble.
Tom was beginning to come round on his stretcher. The boy was muttering to himself.
“I was on the cricket pitch. The ball. It flew towards me. Hit me on the head. I blacked out …”
“No, dear,” corrected Robin. “That was last time. This time you were hit by a naked old lady.”
“What?” demanded Tom, suddenly alert.
“Smashing to see you again!” said Nelly cheerfully.
The porter looked at his watch, and put his foot hard down on the gas.
BRMMM!
Having the sirens on meant he could speed past any traffic that was on the road.
A broad smile spread across his face. The porter was clearly loving playing at being an ambulance driver for the night, quite a step up from his usual job of pushing patients around the hospital on trolleys.
Finally, he swung the ambulance round the last corner, and the entrance to LORD FUNT HOSPITAL came into view.
As the porter drove towards the building, he noticed there were a number of people waiting outside. They were all staring towards the approaching ambulance. As he drove closer still, he realised this was not a welcoming committee.
More an unwelcoming committee.
The immaculately dressed hospital principal, Sir Quentin Strillers, was standing on the steps. On one side of him was Matron, and on the other was Dilly the cleaning lady. All had furious looks on their faces. Next to them was a pair of burly and unsmiling nurses.
The Midnight Gang had been well and truly BUSTED!
The Midnight Gang was marched to the principal’s office.
It was a huge oak-panelled room with a giant oil painting of Lord Funt, the founder of the hospital, over the mantelpiece. The porter and the four children were gathered together in the middle of the room.
Sir Quentin Strillers sat behind his desk as if he was a king on a throne. The principal was the most important person at LORD FUNT HOSPITAL and he certainly looked the part. The man sported an immaculate pinstripe suit, with a natty pink tie and a matching handkerchief flowing from his breast pocket. A gold watch on a chain hung from his waistcoat.
Standing over his shoulder, like a bird of prey sitting on its perch, was Matron. It was now 5am and dawn was just breaking. The sun was shining right into the children’s eyes. All except Robin were squinting furiously.
Sir Quentin began by listing the gang’s crimes in his rich, fruity voice. He delighted in every vowel and syllable.
“Drugging a staff member with special chocolates. Stealing a large quantity of balloons. Imprisoning the cleaning lady in the gift shop. Sending the hospital’s most elderly patient into the air. Smashing a skylight. Hijacking an ambulance. Reckless driving.”
“Is that all?” joked Robin.
The other children and the porter couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment.
“THIS IS NOT A LAUGHING MATTER!” bellowed the principal. “And, no, that is not all. That is just tonight! Do you care to explain yourselves?”
“It was all my fault!” said Tom. “I am the ringleader.”
All the other members of the Midnight Gang turned to the boy. What was he doing? Tom was getting himself into even more trouble than he was already in, and he was already in a lot of trouble.
Sir Quentin pursed his lips. “Really? But you have only been in the hospital for two nights.”
“It was me!” said Robin. “I am the ringleader.”
Matron scoffed. “I hardly think so. You can’t see a thing.”
“It was me!” announced Amber. “I am the ringleader!”
“Really, young lady?” asked the principal.
“She can’t have done it all on her own, Sir Quentin,” hissed Matron. “Not with those broken arms and legs.”
“Maybe not,” replied the principal. “What about you, boy?”
“It wasn’t me,” replied George. “I ’ad nothin’ to do with it. As if I would want to fly through the air with the aid of stolen balloons!”
The other three children were not impressed with George at all.
“It was me, sir,” announced the porter, who had been quiet up to this point.
“What was you?” asked the principal, his eyes narrowing.
“It was my fault these children went on all these night-time adventures. I filled their young minds with crazy ideas. Please don’t punish them in any way. I am solely to blame, sir.”
The children turned to the porter, stunned into silence. Could they let him take all the blame? That hardly seemed fair, as their friend had only helped their dreams come true.
“Matron?” said the hospital principal, as he sat passing judgement in his office.
“Yes, Sir Quentin?” she replied.
“Take this awful gang of children back to your ward. Put them all in their beds and make sure they stay there. I don’t want one of these children to leave your sight. Do you understand me, Matron?”
“Yes, Sir Quentin, sir,” said Matron. She smiled at the children, smug that she had won.
The children all shuffled out of the room.
Robin couldn’t resist a parting shot at Sir Quentin. “By the way, I love what you’ve done to your office. The décor is a delight!”
“Thank you!” said the man, before remembering that the boy had bandages over his eyes and was being sarcastic.
“OUT!” ordered the principal, shooing them towards the door. “I have to deal with the porter now.”
As they passed through the doorway, Tom, George and Amber turned back to look at their friend. There was terrible sadness in his eyes, but the porter just managed a smile.
“Goodbye, young sirs and madam,” he muttered.
It sounded like a final goodbye.
Matron slammed the door behind them.
Then the sound of the principal shouting echoed down the corridor.
Tom’s heart ached for the porter, being bawled at like that.
As what was left of the Midnight Gang traipsed towards the lift, Matron turned on them with glee.
“Right, you lying, deceitful little creatures!” she began. “You are in deep, deep trouble!”
PING!
Once they were inside the lift, Tom couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Matron, what is going to happen to him?”
“Don’t you worry. None of you will ever see that dreadful man again. And as for your revolting gang …”
All the children turned to her.
“… that is well and truly over.”
The lift doors closed.
PING!
Needless to say, the mood in the children’s ward in the morning was sombre. Sally was eager to know what had happened, but no one was keen to tell her. The night had been such a disaster.
Even a visit from the ever-sunny Tootsie couldn’t lighten the atmosphere.
“Toast or cornflake?” said the lady as she pushed her food trolley between the rows of beds. “Toast or cornflake?”
“Cornflakes, please,” said Tom.
“Right you are, Thomas!” replied Tootsie.
She then proceeded to pick up the cereal box and pour the contents into a bowl. True to her word, there was just the one cornflake. It fell into the bowl with a pathetic little …
CLINK!
“Is that it?!” asked Tom.
“I did say ‘cornflake’ not ‘cornflakes’. Sorry, but I only had one left. I saved it for you as I know you like them.”
“Don’t eat it all at once
!” called Robin from across the ward.
“Would you like some cold tea poured on top?” Tootsie reached for the tea urn. The boy shuddered at the memory of yesterday’s soggy mush of a breakfast.
“No, thank you, Tootsie! Milk, please.”
“I don’t have any milk today either, but I do have half a sachet of ketchup?”
“I am starving. I suppose I could give it a try!” replied Tom gamely.
“Very good!”
The lady squeezed a tiny amount of the red sauce on to the cornflake.
“There you go!” she said, handing over the breakfast that would have left an amoeba hungry.
“Please may I have a piece of toast too?” asked the boy hopefully. After last night’s adventures, he was mightily hungry, and that one cornflake was not going to be enough.
Tootsie opened a metal door on her trolley where the hot food was stored. “Oh no. The boss of this place, Strillers, has made us make so many cutbacks at the hospital, you see? I’m all out of toast. Sorry.”
Then she moved on to George, cheerfully calling out, “Nothing! Absolutely nothing for breakfast!”
Unsurprisingly there weren’t any takers.
“Oh dear!” said Tootsie. “I don’t know what the matter is with all you children this morning.”
“The matter is …” interrupted Matron. She was standing right behind Tootsie. Again, it was as if she had appeared from nowhere. “… these disgusting children are in a great deal of trouble. They have broken every rule in the hospital.”
“But they all seem like such nice children,” replied the dinner lady.
“Don’t be fooled! They are nothing more than common thieves and liars.”
All the children dropped their heads in shame.
“Except Sally,” said Matron.
Tootsie looked over to the little girl’s bed. “She is still asleep. Dear little thing.”
“And because of these four nasty little children here, the porter has been sacked.”
“No!” Tootsie couldn’t believe it. “Sacked?”
“Yes! On the spot this morning. He deserved it. Despicable man. I always knew he was up to no good. Sir Quentin Strillers demanded he leave LORD FUNT HOSPITAL immediately.”
“Oh no. Oh no no no. Oh no no no no no. The porter didn’t deserve that. He is such a sweet and kind man. And he has been at the hospital forever. For as long as anyone can remember!”
“Of course he deserved it. Helping these children with their stupid little night-time games!” thundered Matron.
“But LORD FUNT’s was his life!” protested Tootsie. “The poor man had nothing else. No wife. No children. No family to speak of. Legend has it that the day he was born his mother abandoned him on the steps of this hospital.”
“Who can blame her?” laughed Matron. “What mother could bear to look at a child so ugly?”
It was the saddest story Tom had ever heard. Sometimes Tom felt as if he had been abandoned by his parents by being dumped at his boarding school, but nothing compared to this.
Tootsie shook her head. “Poor, poor man,” she muttered. “I must see if he is all right. He might need a sofa to sleep on, or someone to cook him a hot meal.”
“That foul being does not deserve your sympathy! Or anybody’s! Filling these children’s heads with ridiculous ideas. I always said he is as ugly on the inside as he is on the outside.”
“That’s not true!” protested Tom.
“The porter is beautiful on the inside!” said Amber. “He is the kindest person I know!”
“I doubt you even know what kindness is, Matron!” said Robin.
“Yeah!” joined in George. “You ol’ moo!”
For a moment it looked as if a revolution was about to begin.
“SHUT UP!” snapped Matron.
The children were scared into silence.
“What vile little creatures you all are, sticking up for that … MONSTER! I don’t want to hear another word out of any of you all day!”
Only Tootsie was bold enough to break the silence. “Matron?” she asked.
“WHAT?!”
“Do you have any idea how I can get in touch with the porter?”
“Not a clue! Looking at the state of his clothes, and smelling him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was homeless, and lived in a cardboard box somewhere. Ha! Ha!”
“Well, wherever he is, I will say a little prayer for him tonight,” said Tootsie.
“He’ll need more than prayers to help him now!” scoffed Matron. “His pathetic little life is finished. He will never get another job after being sacked from here! Now, Tootsie, finish up the breakfast as quickly as you can and get out of my ward.”
“Yes, Matron!”
“I need to think of the best way to punish these wicked, wicked children.”
With that, the lady spun on her heel and stalked back to her office.
Standing with her food trolley in the children’s ward, Tootsie watched Matron go. Then she looked over to Tom.
“Have you finished your cornflake?” she asked.
Unsurprisingly the boy had. “Yes, thank you.”
“How was it?”
“I’ll be honest, not great.”
“Sorry.”
“Tootsie!” hissed Amber.
“Yes, child?”
“Please try and find the porter,” began the girl. “I can’t believe how awful the story of his life is. I feel so guilty. He was only trying to help us and now he has been given the sack. I need you to tell him that we all love him very much, and miss him terribly. And tell him Amber is really, really sorry about what has happened.”
“And Robin is sorry too!” said Robin.
“And George!” said George.
“And please tell him no one is more sorry than me, Tom,” said Tom.
“Well, hang on a second, please – I am the most sorry,” protested Amber.
“It was my dream that went wrong! So really I must be the most sorry,” added George.
“Oh, please let’s not get into an argument over who is the most sorry!” interrupted Robin. Then with a smile he added, “Obviously it’s me!”
“If I find him, I’ll tell him you are all really, really, really sorry!” announced Tootsie.
“Good plan!” said Tom.
“What are we going to have for breakfast?” asked Amber.
“Have you got any more chocolates, George?” asked Robin.
“Yes,” he replied. “I’ve got a secret stash ’idden away somewhere. It’s my last tin, but let’s share ’em out.”
The boy opened up his pillowcase to produce a tin. He threw a handful over to everyone else’s beds.
“Thanks, George,” said Tom.
“Well, the Midnight Gang was great while it lasted,” said Robin. “I got to conduct an orchestra of medical instruments. Amber got to go to the North Pole. George here got to levitate off the ground for a few seconds …”
“Oh yes! That was a dream come true!” said George sarcastically.
“But, Tom, you never had your chance. I am curious; what would you have wished for?”
“I have been thinking about this all morning,” replied Tom.
“Yes?” asked Amber.
“Well, when you made me swear the oath to the Midnight Gang, there was the part about putting your friends first.”
“‘That I will always put the needs of my brothers and sisters in the gang over my own’?” said Amber.
“That’s it!” replied Tom.
“So?”
“So that’s exactly what I want to do. Someone else’s needs on this ward are much greater than mine. And I wanted to give my wish to somebody else.”
“Who?” asked Robin.
“Sally!” replied Tom.
“Of course!” replied Robin.
“Sally wants to be in the Midnight Gang more than any of us,” said Tom. “Yet time and time again she was told she couldn’t be.”
“We didn’t want to
make Sally more ill,” said Amber. “The adventures were often dangerous. We were only thinking about her.”
From the corner of the children’s ward, Sally spoke up. “But surely in life we should all have at least one dream come true.”
“We all thought you were asleep!” said Tom.
“I was and I wasn’t,” replied the little girl. “The treatment I had yesterday really wiped me out. But I am feeling much better today.”
“That’s good,” said Amber.
“Thank you so much for giving me your wish, Tom. That’s the best present I could ever have.”
“That’s all right, Sally,” replied Tom. “I am just sorry you will never get to use it.”
“Why?” asked Sally.
“Because the Midnight Gang is no more,” replied Amber.
“The grown-ups ’ave closed us down,” added George.
“Just because we made a ninety-nine-year-old lady fly over the rooftops of London!” said Robin. “Naked. It’s outrageous!”
“Ha ha!” Sally laughed. After a moment, it looked like the laughter was causing her some pain. One by one the children got out of their beds, and formed a circle round Sally.
“Are you all right?” asked Tom, holding the little girl’s hand.
“Yes, yes, I am fine,” replied Sally, clearly lying. “And you are sure the Midnight Gang can’t have one last adventure?”
The children shook their heads sorrowfully.
“But what would have been your dream?” asked Tom.
“Yes,” said Amber. “We’d all love to know.”
Sally looked up at them. “You are going to think I am stupid, but …”
“We are not going to think you are stupid,” replied Tom. “Whatever you say.”
“I wanted to go to the North Pole, even though my arms and legs are broken!” said Amber.
“I wanted to conduct an orchestra, even though I couldn’t see them,” added Robin.
“And I wanted to fly!” laughed George. “And I am twice as ’eavy as any one of you!”
The Midnight Gang Page 11