by Gwen Lowe
The woman smiled. ‘Come in! I was seriously worried there; I thought Yor Doom had failed to give you the password.’
‘No, she did tell me, but I almost didn’t get it. “If you don’t know the answer, you should say nothing . . .”’ Alice explained, thinking of the cryptic words in the mysterious spelling list and Yorlanda Doom’s instructions.
She stepped into the little round room, looking around with interest. The only thing in it was a magnificent metal staircase that spiralled through from floor to ceiling.
‘Please, who are you? And why are you helping me?’
‘I’m Principal Swift. Like Yor Doom, I’m another of Professor Tryton’s friends. We’re all trying to stop the Best Minister from being even more horrible to children than he is now.’ The Principal smiled again. ‘And you must be Portland Maggott – or should I say Alice Dent? I’ve been expecting you. You’ve come for the antidote, I presume?’
‘Y-Yes – you know who I really am?’
‘Of course I do. What child apart from Alice Dent or a lookalike imposter sent by the Best Minister would be hunting for the antidote?’
‘Do . . . do you know where it is?’
‘We’ve been looking for the antidote ever since we first heard about you. The only vial left went missing a long time ago, but luckily we headteachers are excellent at tracking down lost things – we have to do it every day in school. We think we’ve found it—’
‘Where . . ?’ Alice interrupted eagerly.
Principal Swift frowned at the interruption.
Alice fell silent immediately. She guessed the Principal’s pupils behaved perfectly for her in school just because they wanted to – she was that kind of teacher.
‘Do you know what’s special about Saltley Rock-pool, Alice?’
‘Best cream teas in the world?’ Alice had read this on the welcome sign.
‘Good try, but even better than that.’
‘Best beaches in Britain?’ This had been on the tourist information board.
‘No, something much better.’
Alice shrugged her shoulders.
‘It’s got the Lost Property Office for the whole rail network of the United Kingdom. Everything lost on a train ends up here, so that’s where the antidote is – in the Lost Property Office.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘We know it got lost on the way to the Just in Case Place after the last Pirus epidemic.’
‘The what?’
‘Just in Case Place. It’s where those in charge put things that might be needed one day,’ explained Principal Swift. ‘It got lost on the train going there, so it’s bound to be in lost property. Well, to be fair, it was more that the train got lost.’
‘Trains don’t get lost!’ protested Alice.
‘Happens all the time, you’re waiting for a train and it doesn’t arrive. That’s because it’s got lost.’
‘That’s coz it’s been cancelled!’
‘That’s what they tell you. So what are you going to do with the antidote, Alice – take it?’
Alice nodded. That had seemed the best thing to do in Tryton Mell, what with the animals sticking to her and the giggling attacks. She had been so afraid that they would put her in danger of being discovered and reported to the Best Minister.
But now she wasn’t so sure.
She slipped a hand inside her pocket and stroked Nibbles. I’ll miss you if I get rid of the Pirus, she thought sadly.
‘We’ll help you, whatever you choose to do,’ said Principal Swift, considering Alice with those eyes again. Alice squirmed under her intense gaze.
‘But if you use the antidote, Alice, you’ll never get a Pirus like this again. And if you give the antidote to your friends they won’t get the Pirus either. Is that really what you want?’
Alice stared at her dumbly. I don’t know! she thought, gulping hard.
‘The Best Minister’s determined to get the antidote too. He’ll use it to protect himself and then he’ll copy it and force everyone to take it. This Pirus will be eliminated, which means there’ll be nothing left to stop the Best Minister carrying out his evil plans. He’s scared of truly happy people; they can’t be frightened into doing bad things and won’t co-operate in his nasty little schemes.’
Alice stared. She’d never thought about it like that before.
‘So I advise you not to take the antidote, but find and destroy it so the Best Minister can’t use it,’ the Principal continued. ‘Do you understand what I’m saying, Alice?’
Alice nodded slowly, thinking. If I take the antidote I’ll be safe, but I’ll lose Nibbles and the Best Minister will win. But if I destroy it instead, I’ll be in terrible danger – but I could stop the Best Minister doing more terrible things.
She thought that Principal Swift was an excellent headteacher all right, offering you a choice but in a way that there really was no choice.
‘OK, I won’t take the antidote; I’ll destroy it instead,’ she said, making up her mind at last.
‘Excellent! Then there’s one more thing. After you’ve destroyed the antidote, you must find out exactly what the Best Minister’s plans are and stop him carrying them out.’
Alice stared at her, speechless with shock.
‘Do you understand, Alice? You must stop him!’
‘Wha-What do you mean?’
‘We know he’s made big plans for something in the next couple of days. All Professor Tryton’s friends have been trying to find out what these are, but the only thing we’re certain about is that your headmistress is involved. That’s why you need to do this, Alice, you’re the only one who can get near her to find out the plans and stop the Best Minister in time.’
‘Miss Grammaticus? Are you sure?’ Alice gasped, flabbergasted.
Principal Swift nodded.
‘So . . . so I have to go back to Tryton Mell?’
‘I’m afraid so – oh dear! Look! We’re out of time, the police are upon us. You need to go. I’ll stay here and stop them catching you or we’re finished.’
Alice looked out of the window. The blue sirens had reached the harbour.
‘I led them straight here! I’m so sorry!’ Cold horror trickled down her spine.
‘It’s OK; you didn’t have much choice,’ said Principal Swift kindly. ‘Now forget that and focus. You need to stop the Best Minister. If you don’t, we’re all in great danger.’
‘But I’m only eleven!’ protested Alice.
‘Eleven’s plenty old enough to save the world. You’ve done brilliantly so far, I know you’ll do it.’
A sudden thunderous thud interrupted them, making Alice jump.
‘That’s a battering ram!’ said Principal Swift, steadying her. ‘Right, we need to get you out right now! I’ll stay here and delay them.’
‘But . . .’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ Principal Swift smiled. ‘It’s amazing what havoc I can create with a bunch of confiscated fireworks and a bit of chemistry-lesson-made explosive.’
She hurried Alice down the staircase and outside on to a narrow platform. By now the whole lighthouse was shaking. The Principal helped Alice into the small rowing boat that was moored to the platform and threw a pair of oars down to her.
‘Row to the other side of the harbour wall!’ she shouted. ‘You’ll be hidden there!’ Before Alice could protest, Principal Swift had untied the rope and given the boat a hard shove.
‘But I can’t row!’ Alice shrieked. She had never even been in a boat before. But the Principal had disappeared.
She was alone.
‘Great, just great,’ she muttered crossly and dipped the oars cautiously into the water. The boat swung around in a perfect circle.
By the time that Alice had got the hang of going forwards, the lighthouse was swarming with police. She could see them clearly, black against the multi-coloured flashes and explosions.
It was very dark on the water. As she rowed, Alice thought about what Principal Swi
ft had asked her to do. She imagined Jago making another list.
Find and destroy the antidote
Discover the Minister’s plans
Stop him and save the world
Fear drenched her. How could she do any of that? She was only slightly cheered up by the friendly seals that escorted her all the way to the shore.
Alice couldn’t find any trace of the others back in the town. It was impossible to miss the Lost Property Office though. Rising like a pyramid out of the desert, it was both vast and built by the Victorians – Jago would have loved it.
Alice rang the doorbell without much hope. It was now the middle of the night; surely it wouldn’t be open.
She was wrong.
‘Can I help you?’ The attendant in blue overalls looked just like a sixth former from school, except that he was friendly.
‘Yes, I need to find . . .’ Alice trailed off. She realized that she had no idea what to say.
‘We can search by name, by train taken, or by item, but that’s harder. If it’s an umbrella we’ve got one million, two hundred thousand and ninety six of them. Still, I’ve labelled them all,’ the attendant said, beaming. Alice thought he’d get on well with Jago.
‘Shall we start with your name?’
Alice shook her head. There was no way she could tell him that.
Over the next half hour, tapping hard on his computer, the Lost Property attendant took her through every search Alice could think of, even ‘Pirus’ and ‘Antidote’, but nothing came up.
‘Wow, this is turning into a really exciting night!’ His eyes gleamed. ‘I love a challenge!’
‘If you knew the name of the person who lost it, maybe you’ve already sent it back to them,’ said Alice.
He shook his head.
‘We never do that – think of the postage.’ His eyes widened at the thought. ‘If it’s important enough to them they’ll come and get it.’
‘Maybe you’ve thrown it away.’
‘No chance, we keep everything for ever – unless it bites or it’s past its sell by date. Now don’t despair, let’s have some of my mum’s home-made ginger beer and lemon puff biscuits, that always helps a search along.’
As they sat on a lost sofa munching biscuits, Alice thought that the attendant was possibly the happiest person she’d ever met. He certainly didn’t need her Pirus.
‘My name’s Jonathon – I’m the Chief Apprentice here,’ he told Alice proudly.
‘How—’ Alice stopped, alarmed.
Someone was coming into the Lost Property Office.
She could see reflections in the mirror, two tall men in black suits. Icy fear gripped her.
The Best Minister’s men had arrived.
‘Oh wonderful, more customers!’ Jonathon looked only mildly surprised when Alice dived behind the sofa.
‘Quickly, boy, find us the Pirus antidote – we haven’t got all day!’ said one of the men impatiently.
‘That’s funny, I’ve never heard of a Pirus before tonight, then two . . .’
Alice jumped up, shaking her head frantically. She knew that she might be seen, but she had to stop Jonathon talking.
It worked.
‘Oh, never mind, a Pirus you say? How do you spell that?’ asked Jonathon, winking at her. Alice didn’t have time to feel relief. She had to find the antidote, and find it fast, before the Best Minister’s men found it. She slid through the door into the Lost Property store while their backs were still turned, then halted in shock.
It wasn’t just that the room was vast, with aisles stretching into infinity, or that the shelves were crammed with every kind of object (how could anyone lose a helicopter on a train?). It was more the sheer impossibility of finding one tiny bottle of antidote in there.
Alice jogged down the aisles in despair. The objects were arranged by what they were or by people’s names if they were named, and she scanned the labels as she passed.
Fall, Mrs A, False Body Parts, False teeth (this was a big section), Falstaff, J . . .
The Best Minister’s men were checking the aisles now too. This made Alice slow down. She was terrified of bumping into them.
‘I’ve sent for a hundred extra men!’ one called. ‘We’ll find it in no time then!’
Alice decided she definitely wasn’t going to be there when enemy reinforcements arrived.
On a whim, she checked out Professor Tryton in the ‘T’ aisle. But it seemed that the only thing he’d lost on a train was a skipping rope.
She was jogging through the ‘S’ aisle when a label caught her eye:
Professor R. B. Snortle.
Alice stopped. She knew that name. And then she remembered clearly the Dr Goodish-Leeches telling her that Professor Snortle had discovered the Pirus.
If he discovered the Pirus, perhaps he discovered the antidote too, then left it on a train by mistake, thought Alice. With growing excitement, she lifted the small metal box off the shelf.
‘Hey! You there!’
Alice jumped. Oh no! She’d been spotted!
The Best Minister’s men were dashing towards her. Clutching the box tightly, Alice sprinted down the long aisle. If she could just dive through the reception door, she could escape.
But it opened before she reached it.
Enemy reinforcements had arrived.
Alice skidded to a halt as a stream of black-suited figures poured through the reception door. Her heart thudded wildly – she was going to be caught!
‘Grab her!’
Alice dived sideways, hugging Professor Snortle’s box tightly to her chest, but she was trapped. Footsteps were getting closer and closer . . .
‘This way!’ shrieked the Chief Apprentice, his head popping out of a hatch in the wall. Alice didn’t hesitate. She leapt towards Jonathon and through the hatch, landing in a long, dark, damp-smelling corridor.
‘Jump in! I’ll push you!’ Jonathon pointed to a small cart resting on miniature rails.
‘It’s how the lost property comes to us from the trains,’ he explained, closing the hatch as Alice fell into the truck. ‘It’s your only way out!’
They could hear the shouts of the Best Minister’s men, very close now. One of them tugged at the hatch.
‘Hold on!’ shouted Jonathon. He gave the cart a mighty shove, just as the Best Minister’s men burst in.
‘Stop her!’ shrieked the closest man, but it was too late. The cart flew out of the door at the other end of the corridor and rattled along rails, high above the brightly lit platforms of Saltley Rockpool train station.
As it twisted and turned on the tracks, Alice had to cling on with one hand to avoid being thrown out. She clutched Professor Snortle’s box tightly in her other hand.
Angry shouts suddenly erupted behind her. Alice turned. Oh no! Other carts were following her – men hanging off them, their feet dangling. If she wasn’t as fast as lightning when she hit the ground they would catch her.
As the cart plummeted downwards, Alice scanned the station anxiously. Yes, there it was!
She had spotted exactly what she was looking for.
Even though she was braced for it, Alice still flew through the air head first when the little truck hit the buffers at the end of the line. Luckily, she landed just where she wanted to be – right outside the ladies’ toilets on the station concourse.
She dived inside, desperately hoping that Yorlanda Doom had told her the truth about the Toilet Tendering Service. Otherwise she was finished.
‘Watch the floor love, it’s wet.’ The cleaner moved her mop to let Alice pass – then skilfully twisted it sideways. ‘Oi!’ she yelled fiercely at the men chasing Alice. ‘You can’t come in here, it’s the Ladies’!’ The men skidded to a furious halt.
Alice jogged down the white-tiled corridor, grinning. Wrinkling her nose at the smell (she was beginning to understand why Mrs Dent freaked out about public toilets), she gasped in relief when she spotted an unremarkable locked door just like the one that Yorlanda Doom
had told her to look for. Twenty seconds later she had opened it with Yorlanda Doom’s key.
What she saw behind the door made her halt in surprise.
At the end of a narrow, well-lit passage, looking very out-of-place, was a brightly painted red-and-yellow cottage-style door, complete with a doormat and tubs of orange flowers.
After turning the key behind her, Alice stepped forwards. But before she knocked on the door, Alice sat on the floor and opened the metal box. Lying snugly inside was a glass vial, filled with a clear liquid. Alice read the handwritten instructions on the lid.
‘Two drops and you’ll be back to normal. One drop for each close contact and they’ll be protected.’
She had found the Pirus antidote.
Alice gazed at the vial for a long time. It was made of glass; all she had to do was crush it to destroy the antidote. It was just that she couldn’t bring herself to do it – not yet. At last, sighing, she slipped it inside her pyjama pocket. I’ll stamp on it if the Best Minister or his men get anywhere near me again, she promised herself, knocking tentatively on the cottage door.
It was opened at once – by a woman who wore a frown, red overalls and yellow rubber gloves that exactly matched the door’s colour scheme.
‘What do you want?’ she asked irritably.
Alice stared at her, jumpy with nerves. She remembered what Yorlanda Doom had told her to say, but it was going to sound incredibly silly.
‘Hurry up, girl! I haven’t got all day!’
‘I claim use of the Toilet Tendering Service,’ she whispered, really hoping that this wouldn’t make the woman furious. But to her surprise, the woman immediately snapped to attention, all irritation gone now.
‘What account?’ she demanded, her voice military crisp.
‘Professor Tryton’s,’ Alice told her, exactly as Yorlanda Doom had instructed.
The woman stood even straighter and saluted smartly.
‘Toilet Tendering Service at your command. How can I help?’
Alice grinned with relief.
‘I need a shower, hair bobbles, a brown tunic with scarlet trim and transport to Tryton Mell really soon please!’
‘You’d better come in,’ sighed the lady, pushing the door wide open.