The Demon Headmaster and The Prime Minister’s Brain

by Gillian Cross

  ‘She thinks it’s boring,’ called Harvey.

  Dinah stared at the screen. Trying to remember exactly what the octopus had been like. Trying to work out how to get past the tentacles. Because she was sure it could be done logically, like avoiding the shoals. Only she could not see how, and the problem nagged and teased at her.

  ‘Dinah!’ shouted Ingrid. ‘Tell them you don’t want to do it.’

  But her words seemed to come from the other side of a wall of glass. On this side, there was nothing except the octopus. All Dinah could think of was that she knew she could work out the puzzle. If only she could see the octopus again …

  Almost in a daze, she sat down in front of the computer.

  2

  Dinah Plays Octopus Dare

  ‘Lloyd!’ whispered Harvey.

  ‘Ssh!’ Lloyd hissed, flapping a hand to make him go away. ‘You’ll disturb Dinah.’

  Harvey prodded him. ‘Ingrid and I are bored. Can’t we go off to the swimming pool?’

  ‘What? No!’ Lloyd pulled a face and glanced quickly sideways. ‘Be quiet. Wait until Dinah stops if you want to talk.’

  ‘But she’s been playing that wretched game for FOUR WHOLE DAYS!’ Harvey said crossly. ‘She never stops. And the rest of you just sit and stare at the screen. What’s so great about a rotten octopus?’

  Lloyd sighed impatiently and forced himself to turn round. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘it’s an important competition. Dinah kept the octopus on the screen for ten minutes last time, and she nearly got past it. She could win.’

  Ingrid came up behind Harvey and her stubborn face peered over his shoulder. ‘That’s not why you’re watching. You’re just hooked on the octopus. You can’t look away.’

  Lloyd exploded. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about!’

  ‘Ssh!’ said all the others.

  He lowered his voice. ‘Why don’t you two push off? Go and play Alien Swarm or something on one of the other computers. I’m sick of your moaning.’

  ‘You haven’t had a chance to be sick of it,’ Harvey said bitterly. ‘You’ve hardly spoken to us for four days.’

  He and Ingrid wandered off and Lloyd turned back to look at the screen, just as Dinah brought her ship safely through the shoals. The children leaned forward eagerly, watching as she clicked on the submarine. The click that would bring the octopus to the screen.

  Lloyd found himself leaning forward like the others, with his eyes fixed and his mouth open. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harvey nudge Ingrid and point to him. Well, let him. They were both wrong. He could look away from the screen whenever he chose. And he would. In a minute. In a minute …

  Octopus - s - s - s - s!

  Quickly and deftly, Dinah began to move the submarine, her thin plaits hanging down on either side of her face, her eyes narrowed. The little yellow shape whirled backwards and forwards and sideways in a complicated dance, just out of reach of the weaving tentacles.

  Lloyd felt his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. He had forgotten all about looking away. All about Harvey and Ingrid. He could not think of anything except the octopus.

  The tentacles were flying faster now and it seemed impossible for the submarine to escape. But each time, just before the octopus snatched it, it darted away in complicated loops. More and more complicated each time.

  With a shock, Lloyd realized that he did not want Dinah to win. And he did not want her to lose. He just wanted her to keep on and on playing, whirling her submarine free so that the octopus stayed on the screen, waving and wheeling and winding …

  But Dinah was too good. In a final, nerve-racking rush, she doubled the speed of her movements and her four days of practice triumphed at last. The submarine soared up in a great arc, over the top of the curling tentacles and down the side to reach the sunken treasure. It was there!

  At once, the computer seemed to go mad. It began to play a loud marching tune and the screen filled with hundreds of tiny, bright fish. They swam together to form one huge word.

  WINNER!

  For a moment there was a total, awed silence. Then Lloyd yelled, ‘She’s done it! Di’s done it! Someone go and fetch Mr Meredith!’

  Ian raced off and everyone else crowded round, slapping Dinah on the back, cheering her and telling her how clever she was.

  And Dinah burst into tears.

  Lloyd was astounded. Dinah was crying? Dinah, who kept all her feelings locked away like the Crown Jewels? He couldn’t understand it at all. It was Mandy who took control of the situation. Waving everyone back, she put her arm round Dinah’s shoulders.

  ‘It’s all right, Di, don’t worry. It’s just a reaction, because you’ve been concentrating so hard.’

  Dinah sniffed. ‘No, it’s not that.’ She shook her head from side to side and wiped her eyes fiercely. ‘It’s just—well, I know it sounds silly, but this has been the most fantastic problem to solve. I haven’t thought about anything else since I started. And now it’s finished. What am I going to do without the octopus?’

  ‘You see?’ said Ingrid, loudly and rudely from somewhere near the back. But no one took any notice of her, because, at that moment, Mr Meredith, the headmaster, came bustling across the Hall, chattering to Ian.

  He was a short, fat man, so enthusiastic that the sight of him set everyone grinning. The children had found it very hard to get used to him, after the Demon Headmaster. Mr Meredith was popular, but it was hard to believe that he was really in charge of the school.

  Now he was chuckling with delight as he pushed his way through the crowd and bent to examine the computer, which was still playing its triumphant march while the little fish swam all over the screen, forming and re-forming the same word.

  WINNER!

  ‘Well, well, well,’ he said, rubbing his hands together. ‘My goodness me. Fancy you being so clever. Well done, Dinah.’

  Dinah was her usual controlled self again. ‘Thank you, sir,’ she said calmly.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ Mr Meredith shook his head from side to side as though he could hardly believe what he saw. ‘I suppose you’ll be wanting me to find the forms now, eh? To send off to the Computer Director to say that you’ve qualified for the final of the competition? Mmm?’

  Dinah hesitated.

  Lloyd knew what she was thinking. She hated people to make a fuss about how clever she was. He couldn’t understand it. If he were as clever as that—well, of course he was in his own way, but if he were clever in her way—he’d be standing on top of the town Clock Tower, shouting about it. It really annoyed him when she kept quiet and pretended to be ordinary.

  ‘Yes, she does want to go into the final,’ he said loudly. ‘Find her a form, sir.’

  Mr Meredith looked at him and then at Dinah, with unexpected shrewdness, but all he said was, ‘Well, well, a modest girl. Nice to see.’

  Then he began to rummage in his pockets, taking out pens and rubber bands and handkerchiefs, while children scrabbled round on the floor, picking up things he dropped. Finally, with a flourish, he produced a sheaf of papers from an inside pocket. Half of them slipped through his fingers and fluttered to the ground, but he only laughed when people bent down to pick them up.

  ‘Doesn’t matter. Unless lots of you were thinking of going on to the final.’

  ‘Us? Win Octopus Dare?’ Ian pulled a comic, horrified face. ‘If it took Dinah four days, none of us will ever do it.’

  Mr Meredith grinned and started to fill in one of the forms with Dinah’s name, age, and address. He signed it with his big, untidy signature. Then he patted Dinah on the head. ‘Better get it posted then. Before I lose it. Eh? Eh?’

  He shambled off, followed by most of the children, and Ian gave his slow grin.

  ‘Time to celebrate, I should think. What d’you want, Di? Champagne? Fish and chips and a Coke?’

  ‘Sackcloth and ashes and a plate of cold porridge!’ said a hollow voice from the back of the Hall. Ingrid came stalking towards them
. Harvey followed her.

  ‘That’s a bit mean, Ing,’ he said reproachfully. ‘After all, it was clever of Dinah to win the game. We ought to congratulate her on that, even if we are sick of the octopus.’

  ‘Congratulate her? On having her name sent off to that Computer Director?’ Ingrid gave a slow, dramatic shudder.

  As usual, it was Mandy who moved to soothe everyone. She put one hand on Grid’s shoulder and the other on Harvey’s.

  ‘Cheer up, you two. Just think—it’s over. We can talk about the rest of the holidays now. We’ve finished with the Computer Club. And the octopus.’

  ‘That’s what you think,’ Ingrid murmured darkly.

  3

  The Letter

  A week later, the doorbell rang while the Hunters were having breakfast. Harvey jumped up to answer it. He loved answering things—telephones, doors, people stopping to ask for directions in the street. Harvey met them all with a cheerful grin on his round face.

  This time it was the postman. He handed Harvey a fat bundle of letters and nodded at him. ‘Having a piece of toast, were you?’

  Harvey grinned wider, brushing the toast crumbs off his T-shirt as he shut the door. Then he wandered back into the kitchen, sorting through the letters.

  ‘You’ve got one, Mum, and Dad’s got five. And—hey, there’s one for you, Di!’

  ‘Me?’ Dinah sat up, with a small flicker of excitement. She hardly ever got any letters. Only a postcard, every now and then, from the housemother at the Children’s Home where she had lived before the Hunters adopted her. ‘A real letter?’

  Harvey held it out to her. It was in a long, stiff white envelope, with her name and address typed on the front. She took it carefully and began to slide her finger under the flap, running it from side to side.

  ‘Thundering hamburgers!’ Lloyd exploded. ‘You’re not natural! How can you bear to be so slow? I’d have ripped the envelope off.’

  ‘And dropped it on the floor,’ murmured Mrs Hunter.

  ‘Mum! How can you say that? You know I’m the tidiest person in this family. Except for Di, of course, and she’s inhuman. Oh, and you and Dad—’

  Dinah grinned to herself at Lloyd’s typical blustering and lifted the flap of the envelope, sliding out what was inside. It was not a letter. It was a stiff card, like a birthday card. She glanced down at it and her eyes opened wider as she saw the patterns snaking across the front. Twisting, twining tentacles. Curling and rolling across the card so that they almost seemed to be moving. Spiralling and twirling and …

  Octopus -s-s-s-s!

  ‘Dinah?’ said Mr Hunter. It seemed like weeks later. ‘Aren’t you going to open the card? See what it says?’

  ‘I—what? Oh yes.’ Blinking and shaking her head from side to side to clear it, Dinah flicked the front of the card back. ‘Oh! It’s from the Computer Director. The one who organized that competition.’

  ‘Eugh!’ Harvey pulled a face and made sick noises into his plate.

  Dinah could see Mrs Hunter getting ready to send him out of the room. Quickly, to save him, she started to read her card out loud.

  ‘Dear Miss Hunter,

  Congratulations on solving Octopus Dare. This makes you one of the contestants to qualify for the final round of the Junior Computer Brain of the Year Competition.

  The final round will take place in London from August 28th to September 2nd at the Sentinel Tower, North Island—’

  ‘What a weird address,’ muttered Lloyd. ‘An island? In the middle of London?’

  But Dinah had been skimming on, ahead of what she was reading, and all at once she saw something terrible. Her voice died away, and she lowered the card, her hands shaking.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Mrs Hunter said anxiously.

  Dinah breathed hard and stared down at the shiny, twining front of the card. ‘I can’t go to the final. Not unless I’ve got an S-7 computer. And I’ve never even heard of an S-7.’

  She stopped sharply and clenched her fists. Because she was beginning to panic inside her head. She was going to miss the final. And there would be beautiful octopus patterns there to solve. She was sure of it. She had to go. She had to. If she couldn’t go she would scream and scream and scream—

  She made herself breathe very slowly, to get back her self-control. She never screamed. What was she thinking of? Why had she suddenly started to feel so desperate? It frightened her, but she could not stop herself. The very sight of the octopus patterns on the front of the card made her feel that she had to go to the final. She had to go, she had to go …

  ‘I’ve heard of S-7s,’ Lloyd said airily. ‘They’re brand new. Just come on the market. Ginger Frost says his uncle in Edinburgh has got one. Cost about a thousand pounds.’

  ‘Oh, Dinah!’ Mrs Hunter looked upset. ‘I am sorry.’

  Dinah screwed up her fists. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t. And she didn’t. But instead she heard her voice say, very high and loud, ‘Well, you’ll just have to buy me one, that’s all.’

  ‘What?’ Mr Hunter stared at her. ‘I’m sorry, Di, but we haven’t got a thousand pounds. Not to spare.’

  ‘Well, sell the car.’ Dinah was panting. Gasping for breath. ‘Mortgage the house. Get a bank loan. I don’t care what you do, but you’ve got to find the money. I must go to that final!’

  They were all staring at her. All four of them. And she knew why. She was the person who never asked for things. Never made a fuss. Good, quiet little Dinah, who never wanted anything for herself. Only she did want this. It was senseless. It was selfish. But the more she gazed and gazed at the octopus patterns on the card, the more she knew she could not bear to turn down the invitation. Whatever it cost.

  ‘Please, please!’ she shouted. ‘You said you’d buy me a bike. Well, I don’t want a bike. That’s some of the money, anyway. And you must be able to find the rest somehow.’

  ‘It’s not that simple,’ Mr Hunter said gently.

  Dinah was past listening to him. All she could think of was the octopus, the octopus, the octopus. And all she could feel was panic. Terrible panic that she might be going to miss bigger and better and more complicated octopus patterns, lacing and weaving and curving …

  ‘An S-7!’ she yelled. ‘You’ve got to buy me an S-7! I must have one!’

  ‘Dinah!’ Mrs Hunter stood up, looking very solemn. ‘Please go up to your room until you’ve calmed down.’

  ‘I must have an S-7!’

  ‘Your room!’ Mr Hunter gripped her shoulders and turned her round towards the door. ‘You’ll hate yourself if you go on shouting at us like that.’

  ‘I’ll come and see you in a bit,’ Mrs Hunter said.

  Still sobbing and gasping for breath, Dinah gave a last scream, flung the card at them and ran out of the room. As she went, she heard Lloyd give a low, astounded whistle.

  ‘Wow!’ he said.

  ‘Ssh!’ muttered Mr Hunter quickly.

  Dinah pounded up the stairs, flew into her bedroom and flung herself face down on the bed.

  And was quite calm. Instantly.

  It was so peculiar that she sat up and blinked, testing out her feelings just as she might have prodded her arms and legs to see if she had any broken bones. There was no doubt about it. She was perfectly cool and controlled.

  At once, an embarrassed, miserable shiver ran up her back, when she remembered how she had just been behaving downstairs. But she squashed it. No point in wallowing in guilt and self-pity. Of course she had behaved terribly. She had behaved quite unlike her usual self. But why? And how had she managed to get back to normal so quickly?

  She slid off the bed and went to look in the mirror. Her face was still red and blotchy, but the awful screams and sobs seemed a million miles away. Oh, it was annoying that she was going to miss the final, but she quite understood. Of course they couldn’t afford to buy her an S-7. And it didn’t matter. Not enough to shout and scream at Mum and Dad who’d been so lovely to her. Who’d taken her into their
home and adopted her.

  ‘How could I have done it?’ she whispered to her reflection in the mirror.

  Think, the reflection seemed to say back. Think hard. What started you off?

  Dinah stared into the depths of the glass, puzzling.

  ‘It was when I saw the card. From the Computer Director. I was all right before then, and I’m all right now. But as soon as I started to look at the card I felt—weird.’

  But what about the card? said her reflection.

  Dinah thought back over what had happened. She had opened the envelope perfectly calmly, listening to Lloyd bickering with Mum. She had slid out the card. And—yes—she had still been all right when she did that. Then she had looked down and seen—and seen—

  She was nearly there, on the verge of understanding it all, when there was a knock on the door. ‘Can I come in?’ said Mrs Hunter’s voice.

  Dinah jumped up and opened the door. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said awkwardly. ‘I’m sorry I made such a fuss.’

  Mrs Hunter put an arm round her shoulders and led her across to the bed. ‘Sit down beside me, Dinah. I want to talk to you.’

  Meekly Dinah sat down. She supposed she was going to be told off. It wouldn’t be nice, but she had deserved it, after all. She folded her hands and waited.

  ‘When people start living together,’ Mrs Hunter began slowly, ‘—the way you’ve started living with us—they have to try hard to get used to each other. Now, you’ve put a lot of effort into getting used to us, Dinah, but I’m not sure we’ve understood properly about you. You’re not an easy person to find out about, you know.’

  Dinah stared at her, utterly bewildered. ‘But you’ve been lovely to me.’

  Mrs Hunter smiled, a little sadly. ‘Well, of course we’ve tried. You’re our daughter now, and we want all our children to have what they need to grow up properly. But—’ she laughed suddenly ‘—we’re not used to having a child as clever as you. Perhaps you need more things than Lloyd and Harvey do. Or different things, anyway. Because of the kind of brain you’ve got.’