by Isla Fisher
Phew, we are finally setting off for school!
It turns out roller-skating is actually very hard! While Marge and I walk along the sidewalk chatting, Jakey’s little legs pump faster and faster on the skates until we reach the top of a very big hill. After that he whizzes past us and disappears into some bushes! Extremely fast.
Marge and I look at each other, horrified. This reminds me of the time we lost Jakey at the supermarket when he was very small. He was finally discovered by Dad lying under the shopping cart, licking the wheels.
“Jakey?” I call, looking everywhere. I can’t see him. My heart is starting to beat quicker. “How will I tell Mommy that we lost Jakey?” I worry.
“He’s not lost,” Marge explains. “He’s temporarily missing.”
We hear a scrabbling sound coming from the bushes. Then a brown squirrel darts out, followed by Jakey, who is covered in twigs and leaves. He grins from ear to ear. “I love skating, and I didn’t even skin my knees!”
He’s tired out, though, so I make him take the skates off and wear his school shoes. We are on our way to school again!
At the school gates, our music teacher, Mrs. Potts, is waiting to take everyone to music rehearsal. Marge introduces herself with an elaborate curtsy.
“How do you do? I was born Margery Beauregard Victoria Ponterfois, and I . . . am a duchess.”
Mrs. Potts seems quite surprised when Marge insists on attending the rehearsal, because parents and friends aren’t supposed to be in school. But after Marge points out that she is a musician herself in the Royal Brass Band, Mrs. Potts breaks the rules and allows her to come along.
I am slightly nervous about Marge being at school with us. What mischief will she create?
On the walk to the auditorium I overhear Marge confiding in Mrs. Potts, “I’ve never been to a school before. My last governess taught me needlepoint and wildflower pressing!”
“You were homeschooled?” asks Mrs. Potts.
“Palaceschooled,” corrects Marge.
Mrs. Potts’s mouth opens in surprise, and Jakey and I can’t help but stifle giggles.
Everyone is staring at Marge as we enter the auditorium, as her beret is stuck on at a weird angle from all the syrup, and she is doing an excited little jig on the spot.
Mrs. Potts claps her hands twice for quiet, and Jakey and I sit down with Rosie, William, Lucy, and Theo. They all remember Marge from Theo’s party and wave hello. Marge stands at the front of the auditorium with our music teacher.
“Good morning, girls and boys,” says Mrs. Potts. She smiles brightly as we all say good morning back to her (except for Jakey, who is looking nervously at the musical instruments in the corner).
“Meet Jemima and Jake’s babysitter, Margery Beauregard Victoria . . . Porcupine?”
Everyone laughs.
“Er, sorry if I got that wrong,” says Mrs. Potts. “Anyway, Marge is going to help us today.”
Marge takes a bow as if she is being given an award, then dances from foot to foot like the ground is boiling hot, which makes everyone laugh.
Mrs. Potts is looking flustered again.
“Oh no,” she says, rummaging through her papers. She turns to Marge. “It appears I’ve left the sheet music behind. I’ll be right back. Will you watch the children until I return?”
Marge nods enthusiastically.
Jake and I exchange a look. I can’t believe that Marge is in charge of an entire auditorium of children!
As soon as Mrs. Potts has left, Judy Briggs puts up her hand. “Are you a child or a grown-up?” she asks Marge. Everyone giggles again.
“Jake will explain,” Marge replies.
So Jakey stands up and politely tells the whole class that Marge is actually a very small grown-up, but that she is tall enough to reach the middle shelf of the fridge—the cheese shelf—which is all that matters. Jakey loves cheese as much as I love sticker books. Everyone nods in agreement.
“Let’s begin class,” Marge announces in an important voice. “I am your temporary governess, so please line up while I hand out your musical instruments.”
Marge has found the big blue bucket in the corner filled with all the instruments and is standing by it proudly.
As we each make our way to Marge, I notice that some of the boys are taller than Marge, which makes me giggle.
Marge closes her eyes and fishes into the bucket.
There is a moment of silence before she says, “Voilà!” and pulls out a clarinet.
She hands it to Rosie Williams, who looks confused.
“But I play the violin,” Rosie says as the rest of the class laughs.
Marge thinks for a minute. “Not today you don’t. Everyone should learn how to play as many instruments as they want. How else will you find the ones you like the most? I myself have fourteen favorite instruments. I am as accomplished on the French horn as I am on the Scottish bagpipes.”
Marge fishes back in the bucket.
“Next!” she calls.
Judy is next in line and is given a guitar instead of her flute.
Then it’s Jakey’s turn. Marge fishes in the bucket, humming with her eyes closed, and pulls out a triangle.
“But I don’t know how to play it!” Jakey worries. “And if I am not very good on the recorder, I will be terrible on the triangle.”
“Nonsense,” says Marge. “Just listen to your heart, and you will make wonderful music. NEXT!”
I am next in line, and Marge fishes out a trumpet. I love the sound that a trumpet makes, but I have never thought of playing it before. I usually play the violin, and no other girls in my grade play the trumpet. Suddenly I feel quite excited to play a new instrument, and I put my mouth around the end and blow—PFF! A strange, raspy sound comes out.
One by one all the instruments get handed out until nearly everyone has an instrument that they have never played before. There is a small tug-of-war over the drums that is quickly resolved by Marge deciding that all three boys can play them at the same time.
A handful of the younger children haven’t lined up for an instrument. “We don’t want to play anything,” Mary Cooper complains. “It’s not fun.”
“I’m going to make a special instrument just for you!” Marge says cheerfully.
Marge busies herself in the corner. She fills an empty jam jar with paper clips, pins, and staples, making a colorful shaker.
“Ohh . . .” Mary looks thrilled as she makes a rattle sound with it.
So we all help to make instruments for the children without them. I find an empty coffee can and make a drum. Judy manages to make a rainstick for Harrison’s little brother. Marge finds some old bells, ties them to pieces of ribbon, and hands them out. Soon everyone is happy.
“Now we are ready for a concert!” cries Marge.
We’re a little bit nervous, but gradually everyone starts playing.
“Close your eyes and make lots of noise! There is no wrong way to play music,” Marge says as she sways in front of us.
We are all blowing, banging, strumming, dancing, clapping, and singing! The sound is so noisy that I can’t hear my own trumpet even though it is very loud.
I look over at Jake. He looks so happy as he tings the shiny metal triangle in time to the music.
“You all sound excellent!” Marge says enthusiastically. “Let’s share our wonderful music with the rest of the school!”
Marge flings open the door and leads the entire classroom through the hall and out onto the playground.
Even though it sounds terrible, we are all having tons of fun. I now understand why music makes you feel happy, even though I can’t make anything but a raspberry sound come out of this trumpet. Rosie is playing her clarinet like it’s a guitar, and Lucy is wearing a drum on her head.
“It’s my drum hat,” she says, and bangs it. It makes the funniest sound!
Theo is playing the violin backward! But you won’t believe this—he’s actually making a good noise. Jake is tinging his
triangle proudly, and Marge is singing like she is in an opera! Her voice is shaky and shrill like a goat on a mountaintop.
We end up in the center of the playground, and we are making such a racket that all the other kids and teachers come out of their rooms and form an audience.
At first no one knows what to make of us, but soon the other kids start tapping their feet and clapping along. The teachers find it impossible to disapprove as we are clearly having so much fun. Even Mrs. Turnball, our strict science teacher, is nodding her head in time with the music, and some of the older kids are dancing!
My cheeks are hurting from blowing and laughing, and everyone seems to love our crazy show!
But I can’t see Marge anywhere. Where is she?
Then I hear a deep sound and turn around. Marge is wearing Jakey’s roller skates and has strapped a tuba to her neck. The tuba is like a trumpet for a giant, and it is twice the size of her body! I have only seen an older girl called Martha play it before.
Marge is blowing the tuba loudly and skating around us all.
Oh no, Marge, you have gone too far, I think. She is twirling way too fast as she sails past me.
Mr Lindon, our gym teacher, shouts, “Watch out!” as Marge whizzes past him. But he is too late.
CRASH!
BANG!
SPLASH!
Marge has lost her balance and fallen into the little water fountain in the middle of the playground.
We all can’t stop giggling as Mrs. Potts arrives to see Marge in the fountain with her head stuck inside the tuba and just her little legs poking out!
Everyone is laughing their heads off, but Jakey and I rush forward and help Marge out of the water. Jake and Theo take hold of the tuba, and I grab her little feet and try to pull her out of it. Then Rosie takes a hold of me and helps pull, and Lucy takes a hold of Rosie, and Jamie and Peter take a hold of Lucy, and before I know it all the kids have lined up and are pulling like a tug-of-war to get Marge free from the tuba. Until . . .
Marge is free! We all fall down, but no one is hurt and I’m relieved that Marge is okay, even if the tuba is a little wet.
“Well done, my fellow musicians!” Marge praises us, and we end up in a big group hug.
Just then Mr. Siles, our principal, appears on the playground. “All right, everyone, back to class,” he says sternly. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of Marge, soaking wet, in a beret, holding a tuba.
“Marge, it’s time for lessons now,” I explain.
“Can I join your class?” she replies, running ahead to the classroom.
We all head back inside, and the morning passes quickly. I can tell that everyone is in a good mood after our concert in the playground. Even Mrs. Potts doesn’t seem to mind about the tuba, and in math Mr. Bates gives us prizes for getting our answers right! I get the Star of the Day certificate, and Marge wins three gold stickers.
At recess Marge gives Jake, Theo, Jamie, and Peter roller-skating lessons in the playground. Then in gym Marge convinces Mr. Lindon that all throwing and catching should be done to music. It turns out that I never miss the ball when I am listening to Marge singing loudly, and for once I really enjoy gym!
In art Marge suggests that we finish our self-portraits blindfolded. I thought our art teacher, Mr. Brock, was going to lose his temper when Ella painted on Drew’s sweater by accident and James knocked over an entire pot of green paint . . . but by the end of class, even Mr. Brock agrees that everyone’s portraits look more unusual and that the exercise has “unlocked our creativity.” It’s so much fun having Marge at school!
RING! Now it’s time for lunch.
We tidy up the art room and fetch our lunch boxes, ready to sit in our lunch circle. As I’m walking back to our classroom, Jakey pops up beside me. “Mrs. Potts said that I can join your class for lunch today because I was so well behaved in music rehearsal.”
I can tell that Jakey is excited to see our babysitter again, and when we walk through the door, we see that Marge is sitting in the middle of the floor. Jakey runs to give her a hug. Our homeroom teacher, Mr. Gale, looks a little surprised, but I don’t think he minds.
“Could you look after the children while I eat my lunch in the staff room?” he asks Marge.
“Of course!” Marge agrees, giving Jakey a big smile.
As we sit down in a circle around her, Marge brings out a lunch box and a giant spoon from her handbag.
“In the palace we had an official food tester whose job was to make sure that no one poisoned the king or queen!” She grins hopefully at us.
Everyone is happy to share a bite of their lunch with Marge.
One spoonful of Jack’s jam sandwich . . . YUM!
Two spoonfuls of Sarah’s pasta . . . TOO COLD!
Half of Rosie’s peanut butter and apple . . . TASTY!
ALL of Eli’s fish sticks . . . DELISH!
Marge rubs her belly and sighs. “In the palace after lunch we always had nap time. A duchess can get very tired, you know.”
Marge stretches and snuggles into the beanbag in our library corner, next to her tuba.
“Will you read me a book?” she asks in a baby voice.
Lucy and I run and get our favorite storybook, and Eli gets a blanket from the cabinet. When Marge is tucked in, we read her a bedtime story. Jakey is in charge of turning the pages, and everyone joins in. We pass the book around the class and take turns reading a page each.
Once we have finished the story, Marge’s eyes are closing.
“Can you leave the light on?” Marge asks. “I’m scared of ghosts.”
Jakey rolls his eyes. “There is no such thing as ghosts! Even I know that, and I’m only four.” He really is excellent at eye rolling.
“Yes, there are too ghosts,” Marge replies. She pulls her blanket off and covers her head with it.
“Whoooo!” she calls in a ghostly voice. “Whooo . . .”
Everyone in the class starts to giggle. Marge is so funny.
“It’s me, Marge the Magnificent Ghost!”
Then Marge yawns sleepily, cuddles up to the tuba, and promptly dozes off.
When he gets back from lunch, Mr. Gale is very impressed at how quietly we’re sitting in our lunch circle. He doesn’t seem to notice that Marge is asleep in the corner and we are only being quiet because we don’t want to wake her up.
I can’t stop thinking about Marge for the rest of the day. I go from class to class wondering if Marge is still asleep or if she is up to any more mischief. I wish I could peek in on her and see if she is still asleep on the beanbag, but I don’t have time, and the day seems to whizz past.
RING!
That’s the bell telling me that school is finished for the day!
At the school gates I find Mommy, Dad, and Jakey waiting for me.
“How was school, Jemima?” Dad asks.
“I played the trumpet today!” I brag. “And I didn’t miss the ball once during playing catch in gym.”
“How were music rehearsals for you, Jakey?” Mommy asks my little brother. She looks a little worried, because he usually complains all the way home from school on Mondays.
“I LOVED music rehearsals,” Jakey says happily. “Marge taught me to play the triangle, and Mrs. Potts said that because I like it so much, I can play it again next week!”
“Marge was in school?” Mommy asks, surprised.
At that moment I hear a familiar sound, and we all turn to look.
Marge is walking out of the school with the big, shiny tuba, playing a very loud tune. She pauses a moment and gives us a big smile.
“I blew all the water out of it!” Marge announces. “Mrs. Potts says that I can join the school band too. I just need to practice a bit at home first,” she says excitedly.
Mommy and Dad share a look as Jakey and I crack up laughing.
“Where’s my horse and carriage to take us home?” Marge asks.
“Very funny, Marge,” Dad replies, pointing to our old blue car. Then he flings
open the back door, bows down very low, and cries, “Your carriage awaits, Your Royal Highness!”
I’m giggling because Marge seems to bring out the funny side in everyone.
“Merci!” replies Marge in a posh voice. “That is French for thank you,” she explains as we all bundle inside.
I can’t help smiling all the way home as Jake and I cuddle up with Marge in the backseat and Mommy and Dad ask us questions about our day.
Who would have thought that our babysitter would need picking up from school too? Marge definitely isn’t an ordinary grown-up, but to me she’s the best babysitter in the whole wide world.
About the Author
ISLA FISHER has worked in TV and film for twenty-five years. She has played many fun and different characters, but her favorite role is being a mom to her three children. Isla has been making up stories at bedtime for them every night since they were born, which is how Marge in Charge began.
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Credits
Cover art by Eglantine Ceulemans
Cover design by David Curtis
Copyright
MARGE IN CHARGE. Text copyright © 2016 by Queen Bee Productions. Illustrations copyright © 2016 by Eglantine Ceulemans. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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