Some of the kids started chuckling. Most of them were still too scared to do anything, they all knew Miss Primrose was a horrible and terrifying lady but there was no way they were going to consider Oscar’s crazy theory.
“Oscar, be quiet,” Emma whispered.
“We know what you’ve done Miss Primrose! You’re not going to win! You hear me! You won’t win!” declared Oscar.
At that point it was almost as if Oscar had passed all his anger and rage on to Miss Primrose. Almost immediately it was her who started shaking, it was her clammy fists that were clenching and it was her face that looked about to burst.
“You!” she bellowed and there was no doubt she was pointing at Oscar this time. “My office, this instant!”
Oscar wasn’t afraid of Miss Primrose any more, even though he knew full well what she was capable of.
14
“HOW DARE YOU!” Miss Primrose screamed as she slammed her hand against her desk. Oscar looked around the office. For someone who had only just become the headmistress, she had soon made the office her own. Oscar had been to Mr Fazey’s office a couple of times before and the transformation was quite extraordinary.
Previously the room had been a shrine to education and Elvis – well mainly Elvis, there had been a velvet portrait of ‘the king’ above the headmaster’s desk, replica white jumpsuit and a selection of memorabilia in a cabinet; there were some educational books in the corner. Now the room was dark, decorated in black, dark green and purple. There was black wallpaper, and horrible tatty purple curtains. Green folders and green books were stacked up in a horrible green bookcase, even the carpet looked unwelcoming, a vile dark purple colour that made your feet itch through your shoes. In front of the closed curtains there was an ugly black desk and chair.
“Who do you think you are?” cried Miss Primrose. “King of the gangsters no doubt. The godfather of the mafia. Well don’t you worry, boy, your time will come. You will be my warning, my example for all the other children who see you. Mark my words: boy.”
“I know what you’ve done. I know you turned Mr McNulty into a cat and I know you’ve done exactly the same to Mr Fazey!” shouted Oscar.
Miss Primrose smirked and leaned forward onto her desk. “Prove it.”
“You won’t win. Somehow, some way we’ll stop you,” Oscar replied.
“I doubt that, boy. Who are people going to believe? The highly respected headmistress or a rowdy troublemaker like yourself, hmm? Or perhaps I should say thief! Imagine the trouble you and your friends will get into when they find out you broke into my shop! Ah yes, boy, I know all about that. I’ll have you and all your little friends for that. Mark my words. Or perhaps I should let the police deal with you all? Breaking into lovely Miss Primrose’s shop to steal her delicious sweets. They’ll throw the key away on all of you! What in heaven’s name would all your parents say? Imagine how disappointed they’d all be in knowing they raised a bunch of criminals.”
Oscar was stuck. He wasn’t sure what to say back.
Miss Primrose smirked before adding, “Luckily for you, boy, I’m just and fair. I’m willing to wipe the slate clean. As long as you show you’re sorry, of course, we will then put this whole matter behind us. All you need to do is lines and have them on my desk by tomorrow.”
Oscar rolled his eyes and sighed.
“The lines will say, ‘I shall always respect my headmistress, she is just and fair.’ This is to be written one million times by tomorrow morning.”
“What?” Oscar shrieked.
“With this pencil.” Miss Primrose revealed from her drawer one of the shortest pencils Oscar had ever seen, it was like a stump of a normal pencil.
“Are you serious?” Oscar examined the microscopic pencil.
“Deadly serious,” Miss Primrose replied. “And don’t try and cheat me, boy. This is a special pencil with unique lead. I shall know if you try to use another pencil.”
Oscar sighed as he looked around the room. He soon noticed a fish tank on the other side of the bookshelf.
“Ah, I see you’ve noticed my little fish pets!” said Miss Primrose. “You’ve reminded me it’s their feeding time!” She walked over to the fish tank.
Oscar followed her to look closely into the dingy water. There were two goldfish frantically swimming around the tank.
Miss Primrose picked up a huge jar from a nearby purple shelf. To Oscar’s disgust, as she buried her hand into the jar, he saw it was completely full of worms. She picked out a handful of wiggling worms before dropping them into the tank.
“I call these goldfish Fazey and Mikey.” Miss Primrose simpered. “That little fat one’s Mikey. He’ll never complain about eating worms again.”
15
“GOLDFISH?” CRIED EMMA, as Oscar regrouped with his friends after school.
“I’m telling you guys, both Mr Fazey and Mikey are now goldfish and being fed worms! We need to do something and do it now! We can’t go another day with her at this school. Trust me.”
“Emma, did you manage to talk to your dad?” asked Ishy.
“Erm, well not exactly,” Emma muttered
“What do you mean?” asked Reece.
“I just couldn’t get round to it. It’s not easy bringing up the subject of witches y’know,” Emma replied.
“Emma, we’ve got to go and see your dad right now and ask for help. He might be the last chance we have.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Emma said.
“It’s the only way we can stop her!” cried Ishy.
“I said no!”
It wasn’t like Emma to shout at the boys. They knew something was on her mind.
As the group cautiously walked past the sweet shop, they were taken aback by a piercing scream closely followed by a sharp cackle. The cackle undoubtedly belonged to Miss Primrose, it pierced you like ice and left you cold with fear. The gang was more worried about who her poor victim was. Even though Miss Primrose was now the new school headmistress, she still opened the sweet shop right on time for unsuspecting victims.
A girl in the lower years of the school ran out of the sweet shop sobbing her heart out. She was called Amy Johnson and was well known in the school for her long brown pigtails and gap toothed smile.
“What happened?” Oscar called out.
“W-w-well…sh-she…I-I-I asked for the white chocolate mice, then she gave them to me. I took a bite of one and it tasted funny…b-b-b-b-because it’s a real dead mouse covered in white choc—” Amy sobbed before spewing up, right outside the sweet shop.
All the boys turned their attention to Emma; making direct eye contact with her.
Emma sighed. “Ugh, okay, we can try my dad but I promise you, it’ll be a waste of time.”
“Perhaps I could be of some assistance?” a voice enquired.
The gang looked down to see the feline version of Mr McNulty.
16
EMMA LED THE GANG back to her house straight away. As Emma expected the chicken nuggets and potato waffles were nestled in the microwave ready to be heated – she decided that dinner could wait.
The friends crept into the lounge and saw Emma’s dad in his armchair with his headphones on as usual.
“Right where I left you,” Emma sighed.
Mr Baker looked half asleep as he was watching the television. He seemed to be watching some bizarre program about clowns getting plastic surgery. The kids weren’t convinced he was actually watching it; he looked brain dead.
“Ugh, Dad?” said Emma, but there was no response.
“Mr Baker?” Oscar said politely.
“Dad!” Emma shouted.
Mr Baker mumbled a little but certainly didn’t give much of a formal response.
“Can I try something?” Ishy asked hesitantly.
“Sure.” Emma shrugged, fighting back the tears at showing her friends how defeated her dad looked. It was breaking her heart.
Ishy approached Emma’s dad, and stood behind his armchai
r. He then reached out and simply took the headphones off Mr Baker’s head, hoping this might make a difference.
Mr Baker’s expression didn’t change: he didn’t even blink.
“Dad?” Emma shouted again.
Mr Baker slowly turned his head towards Emma and her friends and murmured, “Yes, dear, dinner’s in the microwave.”
“It’s not that,” Emma said quickly before her dad thought to reach out for the headphones again. “I know it might sound crazy, Dad, but there’s a witch at our school. First she took over the sweet shop and now she’s the headmistress of our school! She’s turned people into animals – including Mikey!”
Mr Baker sighed heavily. “Emma, these fantasy books you read have got stuck in your head. Maybe you should take a break from them. I got an email from your headmistress about Mikey – all the parents did. He’s gone on a course to control his behaviour. And his bottom by the sounds of it,” Mr Baker explained.
“Honestly Mr Baker, it really is true,” stated Reece as Mr Baker reached for his headphones.
Suddenly a cat figure leapt onto the arm of Mr Baker’s armchair.
“Perhaps you’ll listen to me?” Mr McNulty said.
Mr Baker’s face showed complete shock before he smirked and said, “Okay kids, very good! You almost got me, you really did. Come on then; which one of you is doing the cat voice?”
“They are nothing to do with it. I am Mr McNulty from the sweet shop and it’s all completely true. Miss Primrose is a witch! She is the reason you see me in this state. I’m certain she has turned Mr Fazey and Mikey into goldfish, as the kids say.”
Mr Baker went as white as a sheet. He had no idea how to react before muttering to himself, “It’s official. I’m having a nervous breakdown. It’s got to that point in my life where I’ve started to lose my mind.”
“Dad, you’re not going crazy! It’s the truth. Miss Primrose is a witch and she won’t stop till she has taken over every school and every sweet shop in the world. She hates children and wants to do everything in her power to make all the children miserable like her! Honestly, you have to believe us. You have to help us,” Emma pleaded.
Mr Baker was still spaced out. His head was spinning. “She turned you into a cat…” he muttered, still trying to convince himself he wasn’t going crazy.
“You need to help us,” Oscar added to Emma’s plea.
It was hard for Mr Baker to take in all this information. He had gone from watching a clown wanting to make their bum look bigger to tackling real life witches in a matter of minutes.
“Well if what you are saying is true,” Mr Baker mumbled, still unsure whether this was some kind of incredible prank, “you have to soak her with water, so she melts.”
“Of course! Like in the Wizard of Oz! Why didn’t I think of that?” gasped Emma.
“Hate to burst everybody’s bubble, but how are we supposed to get away with soaking Miss Primrose in water?” questioned Ishy.
“You always have to spoil everything don’t you?” Reece said to Ishy as he killed the buzz.
“You could always do it at night? I bet she’ll be pottering about somewhere. I watched a program the other night about witches— witches are nocturnal,” stated Mr Baker.
“That was badgers. It was a program about badgers,” Emma corrected him.
“Oh well, yeah. That’s what I meant,” Mr Baker mumbled, embarrassed.
“We’re going to get her at school,” Oscar said. “I’ve got a plan. Mr Baker, could you help us?”
Mr Baker was still undecided whether or not this was some kind of clever joke the kids were playing on him. “I’m afraid my days of adventures and hunting witches are over. You kids have fun,” Mr Baker said before placing the headphones back on his head and tuning back into the land of television.
Mr Baker was so wrapped up in his own grief that he couldn’t bring himself to believe in any kind of magic, whether it be good or evil.
Emma’s heart broke even more as her dad zoned back out. There was a time when Emma and her dad would have many adventures together. These ranged from searching for Big Foot in the forest, to getting hold of a map and hunting buried pirate treasure, to putting on their own puppet shows together for her mum. She wondered where that person had gone. She was desperate to get him back. But first there was a plan to put in place and a witch to exterminate.
17
THE NEXT DAY THE GANG met in the playground before school started. The plan involved the hose which was attached to the wall in the playground. Oscar, who hadn’t done the lines Miss Primrose had demanded, was going to provoke Miss Primrose and lure her right on to an ‘X’ which Ishy had marked on the playground with white chalk. As soon as Miss Primrose was on the spot, the others would set the hose off and it would be goodbye to the wicked Miss Primrose. Well, that was the plan anyway.
“Easier said than done,” Reece warned.
“It’ll work. Trust me!” Oscar assured. “I think I know how to get to her and she’ll chase me right to where we want her.”
“Let’s just get on with it! My nerves can’t take much more of this!” cried Ishy.
“I’ll go to her office now and bring her right here. Make sure you’re ready,” warned Oscar. He took in a deep breath.
“Just be careful,” said Emma as Oscar nodded to her.
Everything was set up and ready to go. Now it was time for Oscar to once again visit Miss Primrose’s office. Oscar’s heart was beating rapidly. The walk to the headmistress’s office seemed longer than ever before and Oscar’s nerves grew by the second.
When he had reached the door his heart was beating in his mouth and a nervous sweat made his hands sweaty with fear. He reached out and slowly turned the doorknob before entering the office. The loud creaking of the door scared Oscar, shattering what little courage he had left; if he could have, he would have turned and run but the gang were relying on him, Mr McNulty was relying on him, the sweet loving children of the town were relying on him.
Before Oscar had even set one foot in the door, Miss Primrose barked, “So boy. Have you done your lines?”
“No,” replied Oscar. “I’m not going to either…I am going to get all the teachers, and all the pupils in this school to believe me about you. We’ve got Mr McNulty with us and everyone is going to see what you’ve done to him. You can’t win, Miss Primrose. There’s nothing you can do to stop me!”
“How dare you!” Miss Primrose shrieked as she stood up from her desk. She took a step towards Oscar but as soon as she moved, he set off at a run with Miss Primrose close behind. The chase was on. Despite her wizened appearance Miss Primrose was fast, far faster than Oscar would have believed. Oscar was the fastest on his football team but she gained on him and with every passing second his lead was disappearing. Running through the hallway and screeching past the the staffroom Oscar pelted through the doors and back into the playground. Primrose was getting closer and closer by the second, and Oscar could hear her grunting louder and louder as she got within an arm’s reach.
As Oscar hurtled into the playground the children watched in shock as their new headmistress tried to set a new Olympic record with Oscar as the prize. Realising he had their attention, he started shouting as he headed for the ‘X’.
“Listen everyone! I told you Miss Primrose was a witch and I’m going to prove it!” He ran past the ‘X’, just seconds away from Miss Primrose being right in position.
“You’re finished!” Miss Primrose grunted, breathing heavily as she stood perfectly on the X, staring down at Oscar.
“Now!” Oscar screamed as Miss Primrose’s attention turned towards the gang of friends and the hose that was pointed straight at her.
Emma turned the tap fast and hard. Nothing happened! She kept turning, a single lonely drip crawled out of the end of the hose and splashed pathetically on the playground floor.
The piercing sound of Miss Primrose cackling sliced its way through Oscar’s soul.
18
“DO YOU HOOLIGANS REALLY THINK I am that stupid? You think I’d have running water here at my school?” Miss Primrose cried.
The gang’s hearts sank. They were now at a complete loss – this was their last hope.
“I knew you would try a stunt like this. Which makes you murderers! Well let me tell you what we do with murderers at my school. We send them away for a very, very long time to a place where they swim all day and all night and only ever eat worms!”
Miss Primrose seemed to be getting taller and taller as she backed the friends into a corner. A bright red colour started to spiral in her eyes.
The friends started to feel weary as they fell deeper and deeper into a trance. It was clear Miss Primrose was putting a spell on them and they had no power to do anything about it.
Just before the spell had taken its toll, Mr McNulty’s feline body flew up at Miss Primrose’s face like a wild ball of teeth and fur, scratching and biting at Miss Primrose – he was a whirlwind of fury. This distraction broke the trance and the gang took cover behind a wall as brave Mr McNulty battled the evil Miss Primrose.
The friends watched in dismay as Miss Primrose threw Mr McNulty hard onto the playground and launched fire from her fingers into the brave cat that was once Mr McNulty. A fiery inferno hit him leaving a burnt lifeless corpse on the playground.
The playground gasped. They had seen Miss Primrose blast a cat to death. There was no longer any doubt: Miss Primrose was a witch!
“Mr McNulty!” Oscar screamed.
There was a sombre moment as they saw the smoking body lifeless on the ground. But they could only grieve for a second before Miss Primrose turned her attention back to the gang. Her scrawny figure seemed to swell as she addressed them in her moment of triumph, her voice had grown in power and our gang of friends couldn’t help but shrink before it. She addressed the entire playground, her voice leaving their ears ringing with fear .
Terror at the Sweet Shop Page 4