by Gwen Lowe
‘MR KEVIN MUDD AND MISS PORTLAND MAGGOTT!’ he announced, his voice shaking the plates. Everyone immediately turned to stare at them. Alice was so embarrassed that she wanted the floor to swallow her up, but beside her Kevin smiled and waved like royalty.
The room seemed crammed full of pupils. As Mr Ricard marched them down the hall, Alice noticed that at every table the boys sat facing the girls.
‘Sit there!’ Mr Ricard ordered, pointing to the only table with spaces.
Thankful to escape the staring, Alice slid on to the wooden bench. Eagerly she reached out for the nearest serving dish.
‘Wait!’ whispered the girl beside her, grabbing Alice’s sleeve.
‘Trugg! Service!’ ordered Mr Ricard, snapping his fingers. He frowned at Alice’s neighbour. ‘No talking, Merrikin – no excuses, you know the rules.’ He bent and banged the table with his fist, making plates and pupils jump.
‘And finish your food girl, you know what happens if you leave anything on your plate.’
Alice felt the girl beside her shudder.
‘Ah . . . Trugg, you’re here. Excellent, main courses for these two.’
Alice stared at Trugg. He was tall, good-looking, slightly older than her and dressed in the smartest school uniform she had ever seen. It was all razor-sharp creases, but with shiny gold trim instead of crimson like hers.
But the way Trugg looked at her and Kevin when Mr Ricard walked away made Alice’s heart squeeze. She’d met enough school bullies to know that look very well indeed.
Trugg studied them as he pulled on white gloves. Alice looked hastily away, wondering if the gold trim on his uniform meant that he was a prefect. If so, she and Kevin were already in trouble.
‘Go easy on the veg, mate!’ called Kevin.
Everyone gasped.
Trugg looked at Kevin, smiling as he piled on spoonful after spoonful of vegetables from every serving dish on to the plate.
Kevin opened his mouth. Alice saw the black-haired boy opposite her urgently shake his head at him.
Trugg banged the piled up plate down in front of Kevin.
‘You’ll eat what you’re given and like it, Mudd.’
He turned to Alice. ‘Any requests from you, Maggott-face?’
Alice shook her head. She looked down until Trugg slammed her plate in front of her and walked away. It too had an awful lot of vegetables on it.
‘You’re lucky you missed the first three courses,’ whispered the girl beside her as Trugg strode away. She had long red-brown hair pulled back into neat plaits, dark eyes and a quick nervous smile.
‘I’m Chloe, Chloe Merrikin, and he’s Jago Smiley.’ Chloe nodded to the unsmiling black-haired boy opposite. Alice thought Mrs Peasley’s plan was working well on Jago. He looked a bit like a robot, with a flawless face and hair so neat it looked like it had been painted on. She couldn’t imagine a more unsuitable surname for him.
‘Have you had your injection against measles?’ Jago asked abruptly.
‘What?’
‘Jago, shut up!’ Chloe frowned at him. ‘Sorry, he’s got a thing about that; he won’t sit with anyone who’s not up to date with all their jabs, especially against measles and things.’
‘Oh don’t worry, I’ve had everything.’ (This was true – Mr Dent used to drop Alice off at the doctor’s, with a note around her neck demanding that Alice get all the latest vaccines. The doctor’s receptionist kept a special chair for Alice and fed her sherbet lollies.)
‘Yeah, and I’m all done,’ Kevin told Jago. ‘Me mum made sure of that.’
‘Good,’ said Jago, still not smiling. Alice thought he would have no trouble with the no giggling or laughing rule.
Chloe smiled instead. ‘Sorry I grabbed you – but you get punished if you help yourself here.’
‘That’s OK,’ said Alice, giving up trying to decide which of the seven forks to use. Choosing the smallest one, she speared a piece of carrot and popped it into her mouth.
‘What the—!’
The carrot was hard and icy cold, burning her mouth. Alice spat it out.
‘All the food’s cooked for hours then frozen,’ explained Chloe, suppressing a nervous smile. ‘Stops bugs growing on it. Miss Grammaticus the headmistress hates germs.’
‘So does my mum,’ said Alice grimly. At least Mrs Dent had never thought about serving all their food frozen. Alice was going to make very sure that her mum and this Miss Grammaticus never met.
‘What – everything’s frozen?’ asked Kevin, snapping out of his misery.
‘Yeah, everything,’ said Chloe, nodding. ‘Well, this month, anyway. Last month we had to barbecue everything at the table until it was charred, to sterilize it.’
‘Yeah, that was fun!’ the boy next to Jago smiled at the memory. ‘Trouble was we kept setting fire to tablecloths and eyebrows and things so the fire service banned it.’
There was a sudden noise at the other end of the hall. Two pupils seemed to have collapsed. Mr Ricard strode towards them with a pile of blankets.
‘Hypothermia,’ Chloe explained, seeing Alice stare. ‘The little kids eat too quickly and the cold makes them pass out.’
‘Isn’t that really dangerous?’ Alice was shocked.
‘Yeah, but Miss Grammaticus worries about germs more.’
‘What about gravy – is that frozen as well?’ asked Alice. Gravy would help with eating peas. She hated peas.
Using a clean knife, Jago pushed the gravy jug over to Alice. She looked inside. The gravy was frozen into a slushy lump.
‘Look on the bright side, it stops you making a mess on the tablecloth,’ said Chloe.
Kevin was now tucking into his plate of frozen vegetables.
‘Bit like eating ice – can’t taste nothing,’ he said happily.
‘Shovel it in quick,’ advised the cheerful looking boy next to Jago. ‘It’s worse thawed.’ Alice liked the look of him immediately; he had wavy straw-coloured hair and the biggest grin she had ever seen.
‘Shhh Oscar!’ Jago whispered anxiously. ‘Shut up all of you! You’re breaking the rules!’
And at this warning everyone nervously clamped their mouths shut.
By the time Alice had reached the frozen sponge pudding and iced custard course she never wanted to eat ice cream again.
‘Doesn’t all this ice crack your teeth?’ she wondered, forgetting to whisper.
‘Shhh!’ Jago hissed urgently, but it was too late.
‘Breaking the silence rule already, Maggott?’ Trugg loomed over her, his eyes gleaming.
‘Leave her alone Trugg,’ said Jago quietly. ‘She’s only just arrived.’
Alice gazed at Jago in surprise. He’d been so unfriendly ever since she’d sat down, but now here he was standing up to Trugg.
‘That’s not—’ Trugg broke off, turning, his hand dropping.
Alice felt it too, a ripple running through the silent dining hall, the silence solidifying into fear.
The doors at the far end had opened.
Everybody in the hall scrambled to their feet and stood behind their benches. Alice and Kevin hastily copied them. Trugg melted away to his table as a tall thin lady, dressed entirely in elegant black, glided in through the doors. Apart from her pale face, everything about her was black: her hair, her long nails and the sleek coat of the enormous hound at her heels.
‘What sort of dog is that?’ Kevin asked.
‘Mutant man-eater,’ Oscar told him gloomily.
‘MISS GRAMMATICUS!’ announced Mr Ricard.
It was as if the room had been dipped in freezing solution. Alice shivered, half expecting to see a crazy paving of frost racing across the floor towards her.
‘Don’t look up!’ whispered Chloe. Alice noticed that everyone was staring at the floor.
‘And watch out for Precious,’ Chloe nodded towards the dog. ‘He’s really mean. He’s there to stop anyone getting too close to Miss Grammaticus. She doesn’t like being touched.’
‘Yo
u horrible hornets!’ said Miss Grammaticus, her voice icicle-sharp. ‘I’ve heard reports of disgraceful behaviour today. Mr Ricard, read out the naughty list.’
Mr Ricard unrolled a long scroll of paper. Alice felt everyone around her go tense. It was obviously very bad news to be on the list.
‘Daniel Duck – filthy bathroom habits.
‘Donna Davies – disgusting girl’s picking her nose again.’
The whole room groaned. Alice guessed that Donna was always in trouble for this.
‘SILENCE!’ roared Miss Grammaticus. ‘Do carry on, Mr Ricard – ignore these bad-mannered delinquents.’
‘Maisie Evans – giggling in maths.
‘Billy Frugal – dirty boy’s been wiping his nose on his sleeve.’
As each name was called a white-faced pupil left their place and lined up neatly in front of Miss Grammaticus.
‘Nita Patel – horrible nasty rash on arms.’
‘That’s not her fault,’ whispered Kevin. ‘How can she help that?’
‘Zuzanna Piotrowska – verrucas.
‘Quincy Quick – telling jokes.’
As the list went on, Alice badly wanted to giggle. She was beginning to feel curiously happy. That made no sense; she should be feeling more miserable than ever. She gulped hard. It would be madness to make any noise now.
Unfortunately at that moment, without warning, she sneezed instead.
It was only a very quiet sneeze but . . .
Every sound stopped.
Alice heard Chloe groan. She didn’t dare look up. She could feel a chill moving closer. Precious growled menacingly.
‘Who sneezed?’ Miss Grammaticus was by their table now. ‘Precious – grab the culprit!’
Alice froze, terrified, but it was no good.
All teeth bared and snarling, Precious halted in front of her, nose quivering as he sniffed her suspiciously all over.
I’m dead! thought Alice in horror, hastily squeezing her eyes tightly shut.
But then something very odd happened.
Precious stopped snarling.
Cautiously, Alice opened one eye. He was still there, staring intently up at her.
‘Precious – COME HERE!’ thundered Miss Grammaticus, but Precious ignored her.
Please go away! Alice silently begged him, terrified. And just as if he understood, Precious turned and padded smoothly back to Miss Grammaticus.
Rigid with rage, the headmistress grabbed Precious’s collar and towed him out of the hall, the naughty-list pupils trailing unhappily after her.
‘What was all that about?’ asked Oscar, looking puzzled, but Alice couldn’t tell him.
‘Whatever you do, Portland, don’t be infectious!’ warned Chloe as Alice stifled another sneeze. ‘Miss Grammaticus will lock you up and throw away the key. Poor Michaela Pink’s been locked up since she had chickenpox and that was three months ago!’
‘What happens if you’re on the list?’ Kevin asked Chloe.
‘Four hours of punishment circuits. It’s drain dipping and sewer scrubbing today.’
‘At least it’s not The Cage,’ said Oscar.
Alice rubbed her nose. There was no way she was going to be locked up; she’d had enough of that at home. If only her cold would go. Whatever she did, she had to hide it.
Clearing up after dinner took ages. As she stacked plates, Alice wondered what was going on back at her house in Nettle Close. Were her parents sorry that she had disappeared, or as glad as she was about it? Would the Best Minister find her here? And how long could she pretend to be Portland Maggott before someone found out who she really was?
‘Do we have to do this every meal?’ Kevin asked, expertly juggling cutlery.
‘Quiet!’ warned Jago sharply.
The silence that followed this was broken by an orange slush-ball. It whizzed through the air and landed on the table.
‘What the—?’ Kevin poked it with a fork.
‘STOP THAT AT ONCE!’ ordered Mr Ricard, sprinting to the far end of the hall.
‘It’s the Dunces; they never learn,’ said Chloe.
‘Yeah – only have a slush-ball fight if you’re not going to get caught,’ grinned Oscar. ‘Shame coz it’s perfect colour-coded ammunition, one side milk slush, the other orange slush. We’ve had some great battles – and great bruises.’ A dreamy far-away look came into his eyes.
Chloe looked disapproving.
‘Are you ever going to grow up?’
‘Will we be in the same class as you?’ Alice asked Chloe, hastily changing the subject. Mr Ricard was busy at the other end; it seemed safe to talk.
‘Probably not. It depends how far away Miss Grammaticus thinks you are from being perfect. She decides on everyone’s group. Each year’s split into four sets. There’s the Dire Dunces, the Almost Acceptable Averages—’
‘That’s us,’ interrupted Oscar cheerfully.
‘That’s us,’ agreed Chloe, pointing to the silver ‘A’ badge on her blazer. ‘Next there’s the Clean and Clevers. There are only two of them – none in our year – then there’s the Gleaming Geniuses. There’s only one Gleaming Genius in the whole school and that’s Jago.’
‘Jago?’ said Kevin, sounding astonished.
‘Yeah, he’s in our year too. Groups are separated for most lessons but the C and Cs and Jago join the Averages for things like meals and dormitories.’
‘But we never mix with the Dunces,’ said Oscar.
‘Almost never,’ Chloe agreed. ‘There’s so many of them anyway; there’s a lot less of us.’
If Jago’s the only Genius, which set is Trugg in?’ Alice asked curiously.
‘None of them,’ said Chloe darkly. ‘Miss Grammaticus thinks Harvester Trugg’s already perfect. He’s one of the four Perfect Poppets.’
‘Perfect Poppets?’ Kevin rolled his eyes.
‘Yeah, it’s what Miss Grammaticus calls her favourite pupils. They get to do what they want.’
‘Are they prefects?’
‘Pretty much. The teachers use ’em to do their dirty work.’
‘How do you get to be a Perfect Poppet?’ Alice was curious.
‘Spend hours in front of the mirror so you always look perfect, be really nasty and never do anything wrong,’ said Chloe bitterly.
‘Nah, don’t listen to her, she’s making that up,’ Oscar told them. ‘The truth is that their parents are Miss Grammaticus’s friends so they’re just born horrible.’
‘Seriously – she’s got friends?’ Kevin looked incredulous.
‘Hope we’re Average,’ Alice muttered to him as they stacked plates. She had a horrible feeling that Miss Grammaticus would put new arrivals in the Dunces’ group.
Kevin shook his head gloomily.
‘It’s not blooming likely, is it?’
The dormitories were spread over two floors. The boys were on the lower floor, the girls above.
‘See yer tomorrow, Portland,’ whispered Kevin, as the girls filed upstairs behind Mrs Peasley, each dormitory group peeling off neatly as they arrived at their door.
Chloe seemed nice, but Alice didn’t like leaving Kevin. I hope we’re in the same set tomorrow, she thought anxiously.
Mrs Peasley eyed her with distaste.
‘Portland Maggott, you’re such a nuisance; now I’ve got to find you a bed.’
‘Perhaps she could sleep in our dormitory tonight, Mrs Peasley. Michaela Pink’s bed is still empty,’ suggested Chloe helpfully.
Alice held her breath.
‘Hmmm, I suppose that will do. Maggott, follow Merrikin.’
And as Chloe turned off to her dormitory, she pulled a relieved Alice in with her.
‘Great! You’re with us! I wasn’t sure Mrs Peasley would go for it, but she did.’
‘She hates me,’ said Alice with certainty.
‘Don’t worry, she hates everyone.’
Alice looked around. The dormitory could have been really nice but someone had worked very hard to make it miserable.
The walls and floors were gravy coloured and there were long brown curtains over the high windows. A double row of wash-basins ran along the middle of the room.
‘How many of us sleep here?’ asked Alice, looking at the metal framed beds lining the two long walls. The beds were squeezed tightly together, each separated by brown bed curtains, with barely enough room for the tiny wardrobes in between.
‘Twenty-eight,’ replied Chloe. ‘Miss Grammaticus likes to pack us in tightly; she can get more kids in the school then.’
The bedspreads were the same colour and material as the uniforms and curtains. Alice picked hers up in disbelief. ‘Does Miss Grammaticus own the company that makes this material or something?’ she muttered.
The older-looking girl sitting on the next bed looked up and smiled.
‘Hi, I’m Emerald, Emerald Baker,’ she said, brushing a mass of ginger curls.
‘Hi!’ said Alice. ‘I’m Al . . . Portland Maggott.’
Emerald stared. ‘Wow, I did hear right at dinner! I thought Emerald was bad enough, and I was only saddled with it coz I had green eyes, but Portland! You poor kid!’ She expertly twisted her hair into two perfect plaits.
Alice ignored this.
‘What’s that?’ she asked, pointing to something that looked like a badly made sculpture.
‘That’s the old hot chocolate tap,’ said Emerald. ‘Professor Tryton’s invention. It doesn’t work now.’
‘By the way, we’re not supposed to talk in the dorms,’ warned Chloe.
‘It’s all right,’ said Emerald, grinning, ‘coz I’m dormitory head and I say it’s OK.’
‘Just make sure you don’t get caught,’ said Chloe darkly as Alice opened the door of her tiny wardrobe. There was nothing much inside apart from a toothbrush, toothpaste and a bottle of green liquid soap. Alice wondered how she was going to wash her hair. Reaching into the back, she found a pile of shapeless brown folds.
‘What on earth’s this?’
Chloe turned to look. ‘Oh, that’s your bathsuit.’
‘My what?’
‘Bathsuit.’
As Alice stared at her, bewildered, a mournful clang echoed through the dormitory.
‘It’s bath time now. Look, I’ll show you . . . put it on.’
Alice pulled the bed curtains. Around her the others were doing the same. But as she undressed, something fell to the floor.