by Jill Murphy
There was a huge groan, which rippled round the class like thunder.
‘Now, now, girls,’ chirped Miss Drill. ‘That is not the attitude! Look at the glorious day waiting for you out there, with a perfect rain-washed blue sky; it’s just splendid after yesterday’s storm clouds and there’s a lovely light breeze to keep you on your toes, so to speak. Up you get and off you go – and don’t forget to fetch your cats; I’m sure they could do with some exercise too.’
Miss Drill held out her arms and shooed them from the room like a large flock of unwilling geese.
CHAPTER NINE
here doesn’t seem to be much wrong with her knee, if you ask me,’ grumbled Mildred to Maud as they hastened to collect their cats.
‘I think she just pretended she’d hurt it, so that she could be a class teacher and keep out of the cold,’ agreed Enid. ‘Anyway, she seems even more exercise-mad than she used to be –’
‘– as long as we’re the ones doing the exercise,’ commented Mildred mutinously.
‘I still think it’s better than another year of Miss Hardbroom,’ said Maud. ‘Miss Drill’s always quite cheerful, even if she is going to wear us out!’
Tabby was appalled when Mildred roused him from his deep morning slumber on her pillow.
‘It’s no use, Tab,’ said Mildred, scooping him up gently and carrying him yowling down the spiral stairs and out to the broom shed. ‘I’m not crazy about flying either, but we both have to do it.’
‘Poor old Mildred,’ sneered Ethel, already on her broom, with her cat, Nightstar, sitting behind her like an ebony statue. ‘It must be so hard for you, stuck with that stripey weirdo – I mean, you’re not a bad basic flier really; it’s just that you look completely ridiculous with that thing doing its nut behind you. I can’t imagine anyone’s going to be rushing to put you in line for this competition. Maybe you’d stand a better chance if you pleaded with Miss Cackle to get you a better cat.’
Mildred cuddled Tabby under her cardigan, hoping that he hadn’t understood what Ethel had said.
‘There’s no better cat than Tabby!’ she said fiercely. ‘Anyway, Miss Cackle did try to give me another cat once, ages ago, when she sent Tabby to be a kitchen mouser, and we were both so miserable that in the end she let me have him back.’
‘Actually,’ said Maud, ‘they might not choose anyone from our class. It really is going to be whoever has the best idea.’
‘And another thing, Mildred Hubble,’ said Ethel, hovering alongside Mildred, who was trying to peel Tabby off her front. ‘How come we get holdalls full of safety equipment as Lantern Monitors these days? It always used to be a jam jar with a candle and a taper. I think H.B. made sure we’ve got safety stuff because she knows you’ll probably set the school on fire otherwise. It’s so embarrassing, as well as heavy to lug around. You always manage to ruin everything before it’s even started.’
At this point, Miss Drill joined them in the playground (having taken quite a long time to hobble down the spiral staircase). Happily for Mildred, this stopped Ethel from working herself up into a full-blown rant – Mildred could always tell when Ethel was gunning for her, as she started addressing her by both names.
‘Right then, girls!’ Miss Drill announced encouragingly. ‘I want you all to line up so that you get a fair start and I’ll time each lap. Don’t go any higher than the third floor, watch out for turrets and there’ll be a tin of caramel toffees for the person who’s the fastest – I can’t say fairer than that on this beautiful morning. Ready, steady, GO!’
CHAPTER TEN
ildred’s first evening as Lantern Monitor approached at the speed of light – in fact, she had never known a double potions lesson go by so fast before.
‘Isn’t it strange,’ she had mused to Maud at lunch-break, ‘you know – how time shoots past when you’re not looking forward to something, like going to the dentist, but takes forever if you’re waiting for something nice like a birthday party?’
Maud tapped on Mildred’s door at the end of the day and found her friend studying the map of all the corridors and stairs that had been assigned to her.
‘Oh, hi, Maud,’ said Mildred, trying to sound confident. ‘Do you think it’s dark enough to get started yet? I don’t want to get stranded in a pitch-black corridor somewhere before I’ve lit everything.’
As if to answer her question, the first bat detached itself from the sleeping bat-huddle, nosed open the bat flap and set off hunting.
‘I guess that answers my question!’ laughed Mildred, picking up the holdall. ‘Wish me luck.’
‘Good luck, Millie,’ said Maud. ‘I’m just off myself, monitoring the first-years while they do their homework, so I’ll see you later.’
‘See you then,’ said Mildred. ‘Gosh, Maud, aren’t we getting grown-up and responsible!’
Mildred lit the taper-lantern, hoisted the bag on to her broom and set off down the corridor, the broom hovering obediently behind her like a well-trained dog. She soon got the hang of flipping open the little door at the side of each wall-lantern, lighting the candle with the taper and watching the golden glow spread along the walls and ceilings.
The light was failing by the time she reached the playground and the pine trees were beginning to look inky black and sinister outside the high prison-like walls.
‘At least it’s not raining,’ she thought, trying not to be unnerved by the darkness.
Mildred lit the lanterns on the outside of the huge oak doors, which lit the way across to the playground gates. Then she saw something move – something lurking outside the gates, half-hidden in the gloom. Mildred could sense a presence out there, watching her.
‘Don’t be silly,’ she scolded herself. ‘It’s just your imagination giving you the creeps.’
To reassure herself, Mildred held up the taper-lantern and to her horror she saw a pair of red glinting eyes staring back at her. Her heart began to hammer as she lowered the lantern and kept perfectly still.
For a few minutes there was no sound at all, except her own heartbeat thudding in her ears, then she heard a low whimper – then another, then more and more, getting faster and faster, until they joined together in a chain of high-pitched yelping. Mildred could tell that it was the sound of an animal in distress and she began to feel curious instead of petrified. Cautiously, she approached the gates and held up the lantern again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
t was a dog. A small, filthy, tatty, terrified dog, who leapt at the gates, scrabbling frantically, trying to push his nose through the bars and licking the air in a desperate attempt to make contact with her.
Mildred was astonished. The secret wish she had made on the shooting star was for a dog – only she hadn’t meant now! She had sort of been hoping that it might appear on her birthday, or during the holidays – in fact, any time at all other than her first evening as Lantern Monitor!
‘Shhh!’ said Mildred, dropping to her knees and putting her hands through the bars so that she could smooth his fur and try to calm him down. ‘Shh now! It’s all right – I’ll come over the gates and get you. Do stop yelping or someone’ll come.’
Mildred left the holdall on the ground, took the taper-lantern with her and hovered up the inside of the gates and over the top. The little dog was hysterical with excitement and nearly knocked her off the broom as she hovered neatly down the other side and landed on the grass. Very carefully, Mildred put the taper-lantern to one side, sat down and allowed the dog to spring into her lap, frenziedly washing her beneath her chin and barking joyfully in her ear.
‘Hey, that’s enough, little dog!’ she laughed, putting her arms round him and holding him off. He was very thin; Mildred could feel his ribs sticking out as she tried to restrain him. ‘It’s OK, little one, you’ll be all right now; I’ve got you.’
For several minutes Mildred sat on the grass in the flickering lantern-light, smoothing and petting the grimy little animal. Gradually she calmed him down until he stopped yelping
and scrabbling, finally settling into her lap with a comfortable-sounding doggy grunt.
‘Now what?’ thought Mildred. ‘I can’t just leave him here after all my promises to help him – especially as he’s my wish come true! Perhaps I’d better take him back to my room before someone comes to check that I’ve done the lanterns properly.’
Mildred stood up, still holding the dog in her arms, and lowered him (fortunately, he was a very small dog with short, sturdy legs) on to the back of the broom. He sat very calmly and didn’t try to jump off, so she picked up the taper-lantern and tried a ten-inch hover to see if he could cope with flying. The upward movement didn’t seem to worry him at all – he even gave a little wag of his tail – so Mildred continued to hover up as smoothly as possible, pausing to light the outside lanterns, then inching her way very gently over the top of the gates and back down into the concrete playground.
To her surprise, the little dog just sat there on the broom, his head tilted slightly to one side, making no attempt to jump off. Mildred glanced across the darkening yard up at the school windows, some of which were softly lit by candles. She rarely saw the school from the outside at night and was surprised how beautiful it looked, with its lantern-light and glowing windows. She could also make out several bats flitting in and out of the long shadows like clockwork flying toys.
It suddenly felt rather exciting to be out and about, being a responsible Lantern Monitor, having completed her task without mishap, and Mildred couldn’t help feeling slightly irritated that she was now lumbered with an illicit animal that might get her into serious trouble on the first evening. She smoothed his grimy head and wondered how on earth she was going to sneak him up to her room.
The holdall came to her rescue. It was a large zipped bag with quite a lot of room inside, despite all the equipment stuffed into it.
‘In you hop!’ said Mildred, unzipping the bag, arranging the fire blanket on top of the more uncomfortable items, such as the fire extinguisher, and patting the blanket invitingly.
The dog jumped in at once and Mildred re-zipped the bag, leaving it slightly open so that he could breathe. She heaved the holdall on to the back of the broom by its handles, and the broom dipped lower for a few seconds under the weight, then shifted back up to its usual hovering level.
‘Just keep quiet,’ whispered Mildred into the opening. ‘Not a sound.’
Mildred blew out the taper and candle now that her task was completed, and retraced her steps across the yard, back along the warmly glowing corridors and up the spiral staircase into the welcoming sanctuary of her room.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ildred had completely forgotten about Tabby, who was still out taking a stroll around the corridors when she arrived back. She had let him out just before setting off and had then become so wrapped up in the lantern-lighting and the dog that Tabby had slipped her mind.
Mildred hurried into the room, closed the door and lifted the holdall on to her bed, pulling back the zip so that the little dog could sit up and look round his new home. In spite of all the manic yelping and bustling when she had found him, he now seemed to be completely calm and sat up politely in the holdall awaiting instructions, gazing at Mildred as if she was the most wonderful sight he had ever seen. Mildred couldn’t help feeling utterly charmed, especially when he solemnly gave her a paw.
‘What a darling dog you are,’ she said softly. ‘You’re a little star – and there’s your name, “Star”, just like the wishing star. What do you think? Is that a good name?’
Star gave an excited woof.
‘No! No!’ said Mildred, holding his jaws together. ‘You can’t bark in here – or anywhere, or I won’t be allowed to keep you. They’ll put you out again and you’ll have to go back where you came from. I wonder where you did come from?’
She let go of his nose and he laid his muzzle into her hand.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door. ‘Are you back yet, Mil?’ called Enid’s voice.
‘It’s all looking nice and brightly lit out here!’ added Maud, who was obviously there too.
‘Hang on a sec!’ yelled Mildred, stuffing the holdall under the bed and plonking Star back inside it. ‘Stay,’ she whispered as loudly as she dared. ‘Don’t move, OK? Not a sound.’
She stood up and looked back at the bed. There was no movement and it was mercifully dark under there, with only the one candle burning on the window sill.
Mildred opened the door a crack and Tabby shot in, rubbing round her ankles.
‘Can we come in?’ asked Enid.
‘No!’ replied Mildred, glancing back over her shoulder at Tabby, who had frozen, ears back, body fluffed out like a furry puffer fish, staring fixedly into the darkness under the bed.
‘Why not?’ said Maud. ‘Are you all right, Mil? Has something happened?’
‘No!’ exclaimed Mildred, smiling a little too brightly. ‘It was all fine. I’m just a bit tired. I thought I might go to bed early.’
‘Not this early surely!’ laughed Enid. ‘Don’t you want to hear about Maud and the first-years’ homework? Is Tabby OK, Mil?’
Tabby was still in exactly the same position, now emitting the low whining growl that cats make when upset.
‘He’s fine,’ said Mildred, smiling even more unnaturally. ‘He’s been a bit funny all day – haven’t you, Tab?’ She lunged into the room and grabbed him. ‘It takes him ages to get over the long journey, doesn’t it, Tabs?’
Tabby lurched over Mildred’s shoulder and spat angrily in the direction of the bed.
‘I really am going to bed early,’ said Mildred, struggling to hang on to Tabby, who was trying to writhe out of her grasp. ‘I’ve got to get up at the crack of dawn – literally – and I mustn’t oversleep! Night then! Don’t have any fun without me!’
‘Night then, Mil,’ said Maud, sounding a little crestfallen, as she was feeling rather proud of her first real duty helping the first-years and had been looking forward to telling Mildred all about it.
‘See you in the –’ began Enid, but Mildred had closed the door.
‘Sorry, Enid!’ she called from the other side. ‘I just don’t want Tabs to get out. I can’t think what’s wrong with him.’
‘Something’s up,’ said Maud as they made their way back to their own rooms.
‘Perhaps she really is tired,’ suggested Enid. ‘I mean, she does have to get up early to put out the lanterns and Tabby’s obviously in a state about something. Maybe she’ll feel better about it all by tomorrow evening.’
‘No,’ said Maud. ‘It isn’t the lanterns. I know Mildred and something’s up.’
Tabby was now perched on the bed rail, saucer-eyed and whining angrily. Mildred clicked her fingers and whispered to Star.
‘Come on, Star. Come on, boy, out you come.’ And out he came, hesitant and slightly cringing, for he could tell that the stripey cat was not pleased to see him. Mildred picked Star up and placed him very gently on the bed, where he politely lay down wagging his tail. Tabby doubled to twice his size and let out a volley of hissing spits. Mildred had never heard him sound so angry.
‘Oh, Tab,’ she said, leaning towards him, ‘you’re still my best cat.’ But he hissed at her and jumped on top of the wardrobe with his ears slicked back so tightly that he looked as if he didn’t have any.
Eventually, feeling safe, high up above any danger, he began to blink and doze and his ears gradually lifted back to their usual position.
Mildred decided to get into bed and read. Star couldn’t believe his luck when she gave him a bowl of Tabby’s crunchy catfood on the bed, then let him curl up for the night on top of the covers.
She smoothed his head and a shower of dried mud fell on to the bedspread. ‘I’ll have to give you a wash and brush up tomorrow,’ she laughed.
‘Come on, Tabs,’ she called to the shadow at the top of the wardrobe where she could just see the end of his tail, ‘you’ve still got your place on my pillow. He’s a really nice dog, Tabs. H
e won’t hurt you. I just know it.’
But the only reply from Tabby was one last low growl before Mildred blew out the candle and settled down for a night of anxiety, hoping that the two of them wouldn’t do anything that was going to end in a noisy argument.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
t seemed as if Mildred had only been asleep for ten minutes when the alarm clock shrilled in her ear. Star leapt up and began barking and Mildred grabbed his snout and held on until he had fully woken up.
‘You’ve got to be so quiet,’ she whispered to him, gently releasing his nose. ‘Come on, into the bag and you can come with me for a run around outside the gates.’
Mildred was dressed and ready as the grey morning light crept into the room. It was bitterly cold, despite the new glass, so she put on two cardigans over her uniform, which seemed a safer option than the voluminous cloak when handling candles.
Tabby was still on top of the wardrobe. She could see his glinting eyes glued to the holdall.
Mildred set off down the deserted corridors, flipping open the lanterns and dousing the candles as she went. It was so much easier than lighting them and, as the candles were all new, there would be another few days before she had to replace them.