Poppy Pym and the Beastly Blizzard

by Laura Wood

  “Very sensible,” Miss Baxter agreed.

  We all began to pull on our own outdoor layers.

  “Has everyone else gone home now?” I asked, my voice slightly muffled as I wound my stripy scarf around my throat.

  “There are a couple of students who are being collected tomorrow, just like you, and a couple of the teachers usually stay behind for the holidays,” Miss Baxter said. “Professor Tweep is still here, and Mr Grant, of course. But otherwise, yes, everyone’s gone home. It’s strange, isn’t it, when the school is empty like this?” She leaned in closer like she was going to tell me a secret. “I quite like it,” she whispered, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “You can slide down all the banisters in peace.”

  I wasn’t sure if she was joking or not – I could quite easily imagine Miss Baxter sliding down a banister. She obviously saw the look on my face and quickly added, “Not that I would, of course.”

  But the way she said it sounded more like a grown-up remembering how they should behave than a real, actual truth.

  The five of us made our way through the winding corridors and down the stairs. When we emerged from the girls’ dormitory building it was to find the world outside transformed into a winter wonderland. Under the glowing streetlamp, the snow on the front lawns was really starting to pile up, a generous dusting had appeared on top of the school roof, and with all the fairy lights twinkling away the whole thing looked like something straight off a Christmas card. My nose twitched with excitement. It was going to be prime snowman-making quality in no time.

  “OOooooooh!” I exclaimed.

  “Yes,” Miss Baxter replied, pulling her coat a little tighter. “It’s really coming down now.”

  We ploughed our way through the snow and back to the main building where we found Ingrid’s parents, along with Professor Tweep, drinking tea in the dining hall.

  Ingrid’s mum and dad stood up to hug her. Ingrid’s mum looks like an older, taller version of Ingrid but without the glasses. She is thin with long, pale blonde hair and big, pale blue eyes that always seem a bit dreamy. Ingrid’s dad is much shorter, with thin mousy hair and – like Ingrid – thick spectacles that magnify his blue eyes, giving him a certain owlish quality.

  “Hello, darling,” Mrs Blammel said, vaguely, her gaze resting somewhere over Ingrid’s left shoulder. “How lovely to see you.” She sounded surprised, almost as if we had just bumped into each other rather than them having travelled hundreds of miles in the car to see us. She pressed a kiss on Ingrid’s cheek.

  “This blasted snow has thrown off the whole itinerary I drew up,” Ingrid’s dad said crossly, drawing a very neat, laminated spreadsheet from his pocket and holding it quite close to his glasses.

  “I know,” Miss Baxter said soothingly, “it is such a bother, isn’t it? Can I get you another cup of tea, Mr Blammel?”

  (You see, there the grown-ups go again, moaning about poor old snow like it’s the end of the world or something. It’s like they don’t even consider the benefits of snow angels and sledging at all.)

  Mr Blammel sniffed, but pushed his teacup forward, and Miss Baxter carefully poured another steaming, amber cup.

  “I remember the blizzard of ’79,” said Professor Tweep, his walrusy jowls trembling. “Terrible thing it was – all the roads blocked, no electricity or hot water. Couldn’t get in or out. Heard tell that one man had to eat his own leg to stay alive.” He caught sight of our horrified faces. “Just a story, of course,” he said quickly.

  Professor Tweep is our history teacher and a rather excellent storyteller, actually. I made a mental note to ask for more details on this particular tale later on when fewer grown-ups were present. It sounded gorgeously gory.

  “Well, let’s hope that nothing like that happens to us,” Miss Baxter joked.

  And then all the lights went off.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Oh dear,” a dreamy voice quavered in the inky darkness. “All the lights have gone off.”

  “Yes, thank you, dear, I think we have all noticed that one,” Mr Blammel huffed. “Well, this is just perfect. Negotiating everything in complete darkness is going to throw my schedule off even further.”

  “It doesn’t matter about the schedule, Dad,” I heard Ingrid sigh. “We’re on holiday, remember?”

  “Doesn’t matter?” Ingrid’s father repeated in disbelief. “But Ingrid, the importance of a good plan simply cannot be overestimated…”

  “WELL, I’M TELLING YOU RIGHT NOW: NO ONE IS EATING MY LEG. Not even me,” Kip’s big voice broke in. “I just want to be really clear about that from the beginning.”

  “I’m sure the lights will come back on in a moment.” Miss Baxter’s warm, reassuring voice reached my ears. “Sometimes the back-up generator can be a bit temperamental, but it usually kicks in…” She was interrupted then by a whirring noise and the lights pinged back on. “Ah!” Miss Baxter smiled. “See, nothing to worry about, it’s probably just the weather interfering with the power lines.”

  “Hmmmmph,” Ingrid’s dad said, already pulling his itinerary out and making quick alterations with a pen. “I’m going to have to do a new version. Do you have a laminating machine around here?”

  “I think it’s probably time for the children to get to bed,” Miss Susan said quickly.

  Kip looked ready to protest, but I stepped carefully on his toe. “Oh, yes,” I said, stretching my arms and performing an enormous pretend yawn. “I’m very tired. It’s been a long, long day. Bed sounds excellent.”

  “Right, yes,” Kip said. “Very tired.”

  “Absolutely exhausted,” Ingrid chimed in.

  “OK,” Miss Baxter agreed. “Off to the dorms with all three of you, then. Let’s meet in the dining hall at eight tomorrow morning – I’m sure we’ll be able to scrounge up some breakfast from the kitchens.”

  Kip looked relieved to hear it.

  “What was that all about?” Kip hissed as we left.

  “I needed to talk to you two alone. We’ve got to get into the library and have a look for these articles,” I whispered urgently.

  “What, now?” Ingrid asked with a frown.

  I shook my head. “Not while the grown-ups are still milling around. We’ll do it later. Let’s meet outside the library at midnight.”

  “Why do we have to do everything at midnight?” Kip groaned. “We should be snuggled up in our warm beds at that time of night, not out in the freezing cold again.”

  I gave him a chilly look that made our current environment feel positively toasty by comparison.

  “All right,” he grumbled, turning towards the boys’ dorms. “Midnight it is.”

  Ingrid and I walked briskly back to our room. Before we reached the door I dipped my fingers into my pocket once more and felt the smooth metal shell of the robot beetle there. I had almost forgotten about it with so much going on, but I needed to find somewhere safe to stash it.

  Kip was right about one thing, when we opened the door to our room it was blissfully warm. It was also, surprisingly, occupied.

  “Letty!” I exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

  Letty was sprawled across her bed, one arm draped dramatically across her brow, the other lolling towards the floor. At the sound of my voice she sat bolt upright.

  “There you are!” she cried. “Thank goodness. I was about to go out of my mind with boredom. What do people even do around here when there aren’t any club activities on?”

  “Um, just sort of … hang out?” I suggested, making my way briskly to my bedside table and surreptitiously stuffing the beetle into the drawer there. “Anyway, you didn’t answer my question,” I continued. “What are you still doing here? I thought your mum was picking you up this evening.”

  “She couldn’t come because of the snow,” Letty said with a heavy sigh. “Apparently a couple of the roads are bad. She should be here in the morning, once the roads have been cleared. There are a few of us being collected tomorrow now, I thin
k. Sounds like your family made the right decision in the end.”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “I’m glad they decided to delay an extra day.” I didn’t share that this was also because it gave me the opportunity to take part in a little light breaking and entering and some top detective work.

  I exchanged looks with Ingrid. Letty’s appearance did complicate things a bit – after all, it was going to be difficult to sneak out without her knowing.

  “Actually, Letty,” I said, hesitantly, “there is something interesting that we have planned…”

  “What is it?” Letty asked, perking up a little.

  I looked over at Ingrid and after a moment she nodded.

  “We’re going to break in to the library,” I said, as calmly as possible.

  Letty’s eyes lit up. “Excellent,” she breathed.

  “Don’t you want to know why?” Ingrid asked.

  Letty waved a hand dismissively. “I’m sure you have your reasons,” she said airily. “I know I do… I can move my name to the top of the waiting list for that new book on the art of war,” she cackled then. “Sucks to be you, Colin,” she muttered under her breath. “That’ll teach you to try and lead a coup in the drama society.” Letty leapt to her feet and tugged open her bulging suitcase, all neatly packed for her trip home. School shirts and skirts and bits of games kit went flying as Letty dug around. “Ahhhh, here we are.”

  She had pulled out a stretchy black cat suit.

  “What’s that for?” I asked.

  “It’s my breaking-and-entering costume of course,” Letty said, already shimmying into it.

  “Why do you even have a breaking-and-entering costume?” Ingrid murmured.

  “Well,” Letty huffed, still tugging at the stretchy lycra. “Technically, it was left over from my one-woman production of Cats. I don’t think you guys caught that one – it got absolutely rave reviews in the school paper.” This was true, although Letty had written the review herself, which struck me as something of a conflict of interest.

  “Oh yes,” Ingrid said faintly. “I see now. I … er … like the tail.”

  “Thanks.” Letty flashed a grin. “Might come in useful, mightn’t it? If I have to hang from a window or anything.”

  Ingrid looked alarmed.

  “I don’t really think it will come to that,” I said quickly.

  Letty looked disappointed. “Well, you never know,” she rubbed her hands together, “I guess wearing the ears might be a bit much though?”

  “A bit.” Ingrid nodded.

  “Still, better make some kind of mask.” Letty was gleeful. “To disguise our faces?” She started tearing an old black T-shirt. “I’ll just cut some eyeholes and these will be perfect.”

  ““Yes,” I said weakly. “Sounds great. Although there’s no real rush because we’re not actually meeting Kip there until midnight.”

  “Midnight?” Letty perked up at this. “Well that’s something, at least. That’s the sort of thing real criminals would do. Sneak out under the cover of darkness. Hadn’t we better crack out the blueprints and formulate a master plan or something?”

  “Well,” I said, “I think I’ll probably just pick the lock and we’ll go in through the front door.”

  “Not the air ducts?” Letty looked at me with big pleading eyes.

  “I’m not even sure there are air ducts,” I said apologetically. “But we can definitely have code names.”

  “And torches,” Ingrid chimed in.

  “Hmmm,” Letty sniffed. “All right then. Roll on midnight.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  When midnight came we sneaked out into the cold, dark night. The snow seemed to have stopped, although by now enough had fallen that my feet crunched through a layer that came right up over my ankles. Our torches cut pale silvery arcs in the darkness.

  Kip was waiting for us outside the library – at least I assumed it was Kip. It was hard to tell through the three coats, two scarves and enormous woollen hat he seemed to be wearing.

  “Kip?” I hissed.

  “Who else would it be standing out here like a lemon?” A grumbling voice emerged from the bundle of winter gear before us.

  “What are you wearing?” Ingrid asked.

  “It’s cold,” Kip said. “So I just put on everything I could reach. Unfortunately, once I got into all this stuff I realized I can’t move my arms too well.” It was then that I noticed his arms sticking out stiffly by his sides, held firmly in place by all the thick layers of clothing. “Anyway, you’re one to talk,” Kip continued. “What are you wearing?!”

  Ingrid lifted her hand to her head where a strip of black material with eyeholes cut out of it covered the top half of her face.

  “It’s a mask,” Letty sang gleefully. “Great, isn’t it? I made one for you, too.”

  “Letty?” Kip couldn’t turn his head bundled inside all those coats so he shuffled in a small semi-circle until he was facing in our roommate’s direction. “What are you doing here?”

  “She’s stuck here for another night because of the snow,” I whispered impatiently. “Her mum’s coming tomorrow when the roads have been cleared, so we invited her. Now, shall we get moving?”

  The night was bright and clear. An impressive silver pancake of a moon hung in the silky black sky, illuminating our surroundings. Even with its bright light shining down on us, I knew I was going to need torchlight to be able to pick the lock on the door. “Can you shine your torches over here, please?” I asked.

  “Actually, Poppy,” Ingrid said shyly, “do you mind if I have a go? I’ve been practising like you showed me.”

  “Of course,” I said, offering her my prized lock-picks (a present from Marvin and Doris for my third birthday) and she crouched at the keyhole.

  “Oh yes, by all means let’s drag this out for as long as possible.” Kip shivered dramatically. “It’s not like it’s the middle of the most freezing cold night ever recorded and we’re illegally breaking into school property and…”

  His rant was interrupted by the distinctive click of the lock springing open.

  “Excellent work, Ing,” I said admiringly. “I couldn’t have done it quicker myself.”

  Ingrid looked pleased. “Once I realized that I needed to increase the torque on the tension wrench I found that the pins slipped into place quite easily.” She pushed her glasses up her nose and handed the picks back to me.

  “Sorry, Ingrid,” Kip mumbled, shame-faced. “It’s all this cold weather, making me grumpy. That, and I haven’t had anything to eat for at least an hour.” His tummy rumbled from somewhere deep inside his three coats.

  “It’s all right, Kip.” Ingrid patted his padded shoulder reassuringly. “I understand.”

  I glanced up at the clear sky and noticed a thin trail of smoke coiling from the chimneys on top of the main school building. “Look at that,” I murmured, pointing at it. “Someone has lit a fire.”

  “Miss Baxter must still be up,” Ingrid said quietly. “We’d better be quick before anyone sees us.”

  “Yes,” Letty whispered, bouncing up and down on the spot, “now that the door’s open, shall we go inside?”

  We stepped through the doorway and Kip reached for the light switches.

  “Don’t!” I hissed. “If anyone looks out of their window it’s going to be pretty suspicious if the library is lit up like a birthday cake.”

  We continued on our way with our torches in hand. I have to admit that, in the depths of nighttime and without the lights on, the library was a lot less cosy and a lot more, well, creepy. There seemed to be suspiciously shaped shadows around every corner. Things certainly appeared to loom in a way that they didn’t during the daytime … and it was really, completely and utterly silent.

  Kip began humming his own theme tune – a sure sign that he was nervous, and Letty joined in on some harmonies, which was actually a real accomplishment because harmonizing with Kip is like harmonizing with a broken dishwasher. I guess she was a bit scar
ed too.

  “I know I said you didn’t have to tell me,” Letty said, finally, her voice flapping out into the darkness like a timorous bat, “but why did you decide to break into the library?”

  “We need to look for an article in the records office,” I said.

  “Oh.” Letty managed to look simultaneously relieved and disappointed. “I thought it would be something more … dangerous.”

  “What could be dangerous in a library?” Kip asked.

  Letty shrugged. “I don’t know. You needed to get your hands on some kind of poisoner’s handbook without anyone knowing so that you could commit the perfect crime?”

  “Does the library have a poisoner’s handbook?” Ingrid asked.

  “That’s not the point,” Letty said airily. “It was just an example.”

  “Look, let’s just get into the records office and have a look around, shall we?” I interrupted, before the bickering escalated into something louder.

  “You do that,” Letty nodded. “I’m going to take this opportunity to mark all of Colin’s books down as overdue. He’s going to come back from the hols to some eye-watering fines!” She giggled evilly and made herself comfortable behind Mr Fipps’s desk, scanning carefully through his record books. I wasn’t sure Letty really needed to read a book on perfecting the art of war.

  We three made our way through to the back office where all of the journals and articles and odds and ends were filed away meticulously by Mr Fipps. Thank goodness he was so organized, I thought, as we surveyed a long row of filing cabinets.

  “What are we even supposed to be looking for?” Kip asked, bashing about the small room in his overstuffed ensemble. He began trying to remove his topcoat, but he couldn’t bend his arms enough.

  “How did you even get all these on?” Ingrid said, going to help him.

  “With great difficulty,” Kip replied through gritted teeth. Eventually, after much tugging and pulling, Kip was back to a much more Kip-like shape.

  “Now,” he repeated, “what are we even supposed to be looking for?”