Worst Ever School Trip

by Hutchinson Barry

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1 – The Permission Slip

  Chapter 2 – Crime and Punishment

  Chapter 3 – Parents’ Evening

  Chapter 4 – Beaky the Spy

  Chapter 5 – The Travelling Shop

  Chapter 6 – The Coach Trip

  Chapter 7 – Learning Land

  Chapter 8 – Tunnel of Terror

  Chapter 9 – Stomach Spray

  Chapter 10 – Surely Not Shirley?

  Chapter 11 – Boat Chase

  Chapter 12 – Caught by Clumso

  Chapter 13 – Home Time

  More Books About Beaky!

  Copyright

  It was morning break and I’d spent most of it hiding out from … well, pretty much everyone really. I was sitting on the back bumper of the school minibus, tucked out of sight, when my best mate, Theo, popped his head round the side.

  “There you are,” he said, spraying crumbs everywhere as he munched on a slice of toast. A slice of toast I knew could only have come from one place.

  “Did you go to the canteen?” I asked.

  Theo nodded as he crunched away.

  “Was Miss Gavistock there?” I asked.

  Theo groaned. “Not this again.”

  Miss Gavistock was one of the school dinner ladies. I’d owned up to fancying her a few days ago and kept bringing it up at every opportunity – despite trying very hard not to.

  “I want to marry that woman,” I continued. “I’ll make her dinner every day and serve it to her on a dirty plastic tray. While scowling angrily, just like she does. How we’ll laugh!”

  “What are you talking about? Shut up!” Theo said. “Stop going on about Miss Gavistock. It’s weird.”

  The bell rang. I stood up and we both shuffled towards the school’s front door, hanging back so I didn’t accidentally start talking to anyone.

  “I know, but I can’t help it!” I reminded Theo. “Trust me, I don’t want to say about ninety-nine per cent of the stuff that comes out of my mouth these days.”

  The truth is, it had been ninety-two hours since I’d last told a lie.

  Before then, I’d been something of a lying expert. If they gave out black belts for telling fibs, I’d have been a seventh Dan master. All that changed, though, when I stepped inside a rusty metal box that turned out to be the world’s only truth-telling machine. I haven’t been able to utter a single lie since.

  It was Wednesday morning now and I’d survived two full days of school with only three light beatings from my classmates, two tellings-off from teachers and one wedgie from Helga Morris in the year above. Everyone says you should always tell the truth but it turns out that, when you do, it can get you into all sorts of trouble.

  It’s amazing, for example, how much offence people take when you remark on their bad breath and body odour. Particularly if they’re your head teacher, and they’re giving an assembly at the time.

  And you’re standing on a chair, shouting.

  See, being unable to lie isn’t my only problem. Whatever that box did to me, it means I struggle to keep the truth in. It’s like it’s always there, waiting to come out at the worst possible times. I can be sitting quietly doing my work when I’ll announce out of the blue that I’m planning to copy the person sitting next to me or that I’ve just stuck a particularly sticky bogey under my desk.

  Luckily I sit next to Theo in most of my classes. Theo knows all about my lack of lying ability and is great at helping me cover it up – even though I’ve accidentally announced pretty much every secret he’s ever told me, including the one about him being born with six nipples, four of which had to be surgically removed when he was two.

  Especially that one, in fact.

  Anyway, like I was saying, it was Wednesday morning. Theo and I made it to the next lesson and I forced my mouth to stay shut as we took our seats.

  “You’re late,” said the teacher, Mrs Dodds, peering at us over the top of her half-moon glasses.

  “I walked very slowly,” I confessed. “On purpose.”

  Mrs Dodds’s face darkened. She removed her glasses and placed them on her desk. “Is that a fact?”

  “Yes,” I confirmed. I bit my lip but it didn’t help. “I deliberately walked much slower than everyone else, just so I’d be late.”

  Theo raised a hand. “I tried to hurry him along.”

  “No, he didn’t,” I said.

  “I did a bit,” said Theo weakly.

  I shook my head. “He really didn’t.”

  “D’you know, you’ve just reminded me, Dylan,” said the teacher. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”

  Most of the class had already been looking at me, but suddenly I was the centre of everyone’s attention. I shifted nervously in my seat. “Oh?” I asked, the words bubbling up inside me. “Is it about the time I wrapped your car in clingfilm?”

  Mrs Dodds gasped and her eyes widened. “That took me hours to get off. That was you?”

  “Yes. And Theo,” I said, jabbing a thumb in his direction. “He helped, too.”

  “Oh, thanks a bunch, Beaky,” Theo muttered.

  Mrs Dodds squinted at us both. “We’ll discuss that later,” she said, her voice ice-cold. “What I was going to say is, you haven’t handed in your homework.”

  “Oh, that. Yeah. My dog ate it,” I said.

  The teacher sighed. “Your dog ate it? Seriously, that’s the best you could come up with? Do you think I was born yesterday, Dylan?”

  “But it’s true!” I protested. “My dog really did eat it.”

  “Dogs don’t eat homework!” Mrs Dodds snapped.

  “You’ve never met my dog,” I told her. “He’ll eat anything. Leave him alone with the TV for too long and he’ll have a go at eating that.”

  Some of the rest of the class sniggered at that but I was being serious. Destructo was a Great Dane with an even greater appetite. He ate more food in a day than the rest of the family got through in a week, but he was always scavenging for anything else he could gobble up. That included my homework, my pencils and, on one memorable occasion, my school bag.

  “And what about your permission slip for the school trip?” Mrs Dodds asked, arching one of her grey eyebrows. “I suppose the dog ate that, too?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “My sister stuffed it into my mouth when I posted a picture of her toes on Instagram.”

  The teacher just stared at me in silence.

  “She’s got really hairy toes,” I explained. “Like a troll.”

  The class giggled. Mrs Dodds glanced around, clearly worried that everything was about to erupt into chaos, like it usually did.

  “Here, look. I’ll show you,” I said, reaching for my phone.

  “That won’t be necessary,” she said quickly. “Now, everyone get back to work. Dylan, you can pick up another permission slip at the end of the lesson.” She leaned forwards in her chair, clasping her hands together on the desk. Her mouth curved into a thin smile. “But if you don’t get it signed by a parent and back to me before the end of lunch, you can forget all about going to Thrillworld tomorrow.”

  Theo and I stood in the canteen queue, clutching our empty trays and shuffling forwards every few seconds. I had made it all the way to the dining hall without insulting anyone, and while that was something to celebrate, I was too busy thinking about the school trip. There was no way I could get the permission slip signed by my mum or dad and back to Mrs Dodds before the end of lunch.

  “It’s not fair,” I muttered. “I was really looking forward to it. I mean, how often do you get to go to an actual theme park with school?”

  “Every year,” Th
eo said.

  “Yeah, fair point,” I admitted, as we advanced another pace.

  “Can’t you just forge it?” Theo asked.

  I stared at him in awe. “Why didn’t I think of that?” I said, swinging my bag off my shoulder.

  “Theo, you’re reasonably intelligent!”

  “Er … thanks,” said Theo. “Of course, you could have said ‘genius’.”

  I shook my head and reached into my bag. “Can’t lie, remember? And you’re definitely not a genius. I mean, you’re not even close to a genius. There are probably some species of monkey that—”

  “All right, all right,” Theo said. “I get the point!”

  Setting my tray on the rail, I took out the permission slip and placed it on Theo’s tray, which he was holding at just the right height to lean on. “Right, here goes,” I said, giving my pen a flourish. I tried to press the point to the paper, but it stopped a centimetre or so away.

  “Huh. That’s weird,” I said. I tried again, but no matter how hard I pushed, I couldn’t get the pen to make contact with the paper. It was as if some invisible force was stopping me. I put my left hand on top of my right and tried to force it down. The hand wobbled, but didn’t budge.

  Theo glanced at the queue around us. “What are you doing, building up to it? Hurry up.”

  “I … can’t…” I groaned, then I had an idea. “Lift the tray a bit.”

  Theo raised the tray higher. My hand lifted at the same time, keeping the gap between the pen and the page.

  “Argh! It’s no use,” I said. “This stupid not-lying thing won’t let me forge it. Here, you do it,” I said, holding out my pen.

  “I don’t know what your mum’s signature looks like,” Theo pointed out.

  “Do my dad’s, then,” I suggested.

  “I don’t know what his looks like, either!”

  “Sort of a squiggle, then a line. It’s a bit rubbish,” I said.

  “Oh yeah, that’s helpful,” Theo said. “That’s painted a really vivid picture for me, that has.”

  I sighed and stuck the pen back in my pocket. It was no use. If Theo just guessed my mum or dad’s signature, Mrs Dodds would know right away that we’d forged it. “Oh well, looks like I’ll be missing out on the school trip after all,” I said.

  The person ahead of me in the queue moved off to find a table and I found myself at the front. Suddenly the school trip was the least of my problems. There, revealed before me, was an angel.

  “Oh great, here we go,” Theo muttered.

  Even I have to admit that Miss Gavistock the dinner lady isn’t what you’d call conventionally attractive. She has tattoos up both arms, shoulders like a wrestler and a permanent sneer on her face that makes it look like she’s always smelling something unpleasant. And yet, there’s something about her that has hypnotized me since I first set eyes on her.

  “What do you want?” she demanded, picking up a chipped dinner plate.

  I felt the words bubble up in my throat. You, Miss Gavistock! It’s you I want! Yes, you could probably punch your way through concrete and I’m sure I once saw you sneezing into the beans, but I want to marry you, Miss Gavistock! I—

  “He’ll just have some chips,” said Theo, stepping in front of me before I could utter a word. I leaned past him and opened my mouth to ask for the dinner lady’s hand in marriage, but Theo quickly cut me off. “Look, there’s Jodie,” he said, gesturing over to a table where my big sister was eating her lunch. “Maybe you should go and embarrass her,” he suggested. He shot Miss Gavistock a sideways glance. “You know. Before you embarrass yourself.”

  I smiled gratefully at Theo. Another humiliating incident avoided, thanks to my trusty best friend and sidekick!

  “I’m not your sidekick,” said Theo.

  “Whoops. Did I say that out loud?”

  “You’re my sidekick, if anything,” Theo said.

  I patted him on the shoulder. “Right. You keep telling yourself that,” I said, then I scurried across the dining hall and sat down directly across from Jodie. She was deep in conversation with two of her friends and groaned when she turned to find me grinning at her. “What do you want?”

  “Hi, Jodie,” I beamed. “Hi, Jodie’s friends whose names I can’t remember.”

  “Anka and Dawn,” Jodie said. “Now what do you want?”

  My eyes went from Anka to Dawn and back again. They weren’t scowling at me the way Jodie was. In fact, they both looked quite friendly. Which was a shame, because I’d just remembered something.

  I clamped my hand over my mouth before I could announce it. Jodie’s scowl deepened. “What are you doing?”

  “A mmmpf ymm mpppf,” I said.

  Jodie leaned over and yanked my hand away. “What?”

  “I read your diary,” I blurted, then I clamped my hand over my mouth again before I could say any more.

  “Yes, I know,” Jodie growled. “So?”

  I motioned towards Anka and Dawn with my head. “A nmmmf abfff tmm.”

  Jodie looked at me. She looked at Anka. She looked at Dawn. I watched her expression turn from one of confusion to one of horror.

  “Go!” she said, pointing away from the table. “Beaky, go! Right now!”

  Anka’s delicate features twitched into a frown. “What is it?” she asked, in a lilting Polish accent.

  “Nothing,” said Jodie. She leaned across the table to me. “Beaky, I’m warning you,” she whispered. “I will kill you. I will literally kill you dead. With this spoon.” She held up a dessert spoon, clutching it so hard her knuckles turned white.

  “I don’t plan on saying anything,” I told her through a gap in my fingers, “but if I do, it’s not my fault. You’re the one who shoved me into Madame Shirley’s machine, remember? You were the one who wanted me to stop lying.”

  “How was I to know it was going to work?” Jodie hissed. “I thought she was just a crazy old lady.”

  “She was a crazy old lady,” I said. “But it still worked.”

  Anka and Dawn’s heads were tick-tocking left and right as they tried to make sense of our conversation.

  “Just go, Beaky,” Jodie insisted.

  I was about to get up when an idea hit me. Maybe Theo didn’t know how to forge my mum’s signature, but Jodie did.

  I pulled my hand down a fraction. “OK, I’ll leave, but only if you do me a favour.” I slid the permission slip across the table. “I need a signature.”

  Jodie looked at the slip. “You need Mum or Dad’s signature.”

  “Whichever you can forge,” I said, covering my mouth again.

  Jodie snorted. “What, and risk getting caught? No chance.”

  I flicked my gaze across to Anka and Dawn, who both looked thoroughly perplexed now.

  Jodie slammed her hand on the slip and pulled it across the table. “Fine!” She took out a pen and squiggled on the paper. “There. Now go.”

  “Thanks, sis!” I said, uncovering my mouth. I stood up, just as Theo sat down. “Come on, trusty sidekick. Let’s find somewhere else to sit.”

  “Not your sidekick,” said Theo, standing up again.

  I tried to turn away. I really did. But before I could head for another table, I felt my mouth opening all by itself. I looked at Anka. I pointed to Dawn.

  “She kissed your boyfriend,” I said. “Twice.” My finger swung across to Jodie. “And she knew all about it.”

  Anka gasped. Dawn began to protest.

  I turned to Jodie, who looked like she was about to explode. “Sorry,” I mouthed. “Just came out.”

  I darted away, just as the squealing and hair-pulling started. Despite the violence erupting behind me, I felt much more positive about the world. I had my form signed. I was going on the trip to Thrillworld!

  Assuming my sister didn’t kill me first.

  After lunch – most of which was spent avoiding Jodie – I strode up to Mrs Dodds in the corridor and handed her my signed form. She took it and looked it over with
suspicion.

  “I don’t know how you managed to get this signed so quickly,” she said. Her eyes narrowed, but then she shrugged and folded the paper in two. “But fine. You can go.”

  “Excellent!” I said, punching the air. That was all I’d planned to say, but my mouth kept flapping all by itself. “My sister forged it. It’s not my mum’s real signature. I’m surprised you were gullible enough to fall for it!”

  I forced a smile. “Um, I’d really appreciate it if you ignored all that stuff I just said.”

  Ten minutes later, Jodie and I sat silently outside the head’s office. Mrs Dodds hadn’t taken the news of the forgery particularly well and had sent us both to face whatever punishment Mr Lawson saw fit to dish out.

  “I am never helping you again,” Jodie muttered.

  “But…”

  She held up a finger. “Shh.”

  “No, but…”

  “Shh. Not another word, Beaky, or I swear I’ll go and get that spoon.”

  “What will you do with it?” I wondered.

  “Trust me,” Jodie said. “You don’t want to know.”

  The office door opened. We both held our breath, expecting Mr Lawson to come charging out like a raging bull, but instead he emerged beaming from ear to ear. A moment later, his son, Wayne, stepped out with his arm round a smaller boy’s shoulders. Wayne was smiling just as broadly as his dad, but unlike Mr Lawson, Wayne’s smile made him look like a shark who’d just found a tasty new food source.

  “Honest, Dad, it’s no problem,” said Wayne. “I’ll be happy to show Duncan around. We’re all very proud of the school, and it’s my absolute pleasure to help him feel a part of it.”

  “He seems nice,” Jodie remarked.