Mr Majeika and the Music Teacher

by Humphrey Carpenter

  up Miss Worlock in their jaws and tear her to bits.

  But suddenly the mist cleared, and the children saw that they were all still in the staffroom at St Barty’s. Miss Worlock, quite unharmed, was sitting on the bookcase, eating from a packet labelled Best Dog Biscuits, Made from Fresh Dog.

  ‘Feeble stuff,’ she laughed at Mr Majeika. ‘Wolves in the mist! Why, I’ve seen that sort of thing done better on “Blue Peter”. Having a bit of trouble with your trousers, dearie?’

  Mr Majeika looked down anxiously at his trousers. Sure enough, a nasty mess was dripping out of his other pocket. ‘Hamish Bigmore’s pudding,’ said Miss Worlock cheerfully. ‘Stewed rhubarb. Any more tricks to amuse me?’

  ‘Oh dear,’ sighed Mr Majeika. ‘Well, I suppose…’ And again, he muttered something strange under his breath, and once more the room became dark.

  This time they were still indoors, but there was the thump of heavy feet, thump, thump, thump, and a voice chanting familiar words:

  Fee, fi, fo, fum,

  I smell the blood of an Englishwoman.

  Be she alive or be she dead –

  ‘Oh, come off it, dearie,’ cackled Miss Worlock, and the voice faded and the room became light again. ‘Don’t give me that old one. Any party conjuror can do that. You ventriloquists really have had your day, you know. Why, you should see some of those new computer games. They really can teach us oldies a thing or two! Now, be off with you and don’t come interfering with me any more. I’m here to stay, dearie, and you’d better get used to it, tee-hee! By the way, don’t you think you ought to change your socks?’

  Mr Majeika peered down at his feet. ‘Oh dear,’ he said. ‘There does seem to be something squelchy in them. Not Hamish Bigmore again?’

  ‘That’s right, dearie,’ answered Miss Worlock. ‘The custard from his rhubarb. You’ll find it all in your shoes.’

  ‘Ugh!’ cried Mr Majeika. ‘I’ve had enough.’ And he fled from the staffroom, closely followed by Thomas, Pete and Jody.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Jody, ‘there’s no stopping her.’

  5. The concert

  Miss Worlock’s orchestra practised every day. After Mr Majeika had lost his battle with her, nobody else tried to interfere. Mr Potter kept well away, hidden in his office, except when he came out to serve school dinner. No one else dared to tangle with her, and she was allowed to get on with the music whenever she wanted.

  She never exactly became good tempered, but at least she stopped threatening to turn the children into toads if they didn’t play well enough. And in fact by now the orchestra was sounding pretty good. Everyone only had to go ‘um-pum-pum, um-pum-pum’ on their instruments while Hamish Bigmore played the tune of ‘The Elephant’ on his double bass (with Thomas and Pete doing all the hard work at the top end). But at first the ‘um-pum-pum’ had sounded pretty terrible, and now it was pretty good. As a result Miss Worlock was in a good mood most of the time, and anyone who had listened in to the orchestra practice would probably have thought that she was a perfectly ordinary music teacher.

  Towards the end of term she put up a notice, which said:

  CONCERT by the ST BARTY’S SCHOOL ORCHESTRA

  conducted by WILHELMINA WORLOCK

  Demonstration of the So-Spooky Method

  Miss Worlock’s star pupil

  HAMISH BIGMORE

  will play ‘The Elephant’ on his double bass

  All Parents Welcome

  Thomas and Pete looked very gloomy as the concert approached. ‘I know she’ll turn us into toads if we don’t work the strings right on Hamish’s stupid double bass,’ groaned Thomas.

  ‘That’s right,’ said Pete. ‘The whole thing depends on us. If we do our job properly, he’ll play the right notes. But she won’t thank us. It’s her “star pupil” who’ll get the praise. And we know what that means.’

  ‘Yes, we know what that means,’ said Hamish Bigmore, coming up behind them. ‘It means she’s going to teach me all her secrets! So if she doesn’t turn you into toads during the concert, I will afterwards!’

  On the evening of the concert, Jody found Mr Majeika walking up and down miserably outside the school hall. ‘Isn’t there anything you can do?’ she asked him sadly.

  Mr Majeika shook his head. ‘Really, I’ve tried to think of every trick in the book, but there’s nothing that can stop her. It isn’t that

  she’s a cleverer wizard than me. It’s just that she’s got such a nasty mind. She thinks of horrid things I’d never dream of. What can you do against someone like that?’

  ‘Oh, but Mr Majeika,’ said Jody, ‘do try please!’

  *

  The hall was full of parents waiting for the concert to begin. They’d all been surprised at how hard their children had practised and they wanted to hear the results.

  The orchestra took their seats and sat as quiet as mice. Then in came Miss Worlock, leading Hamish Bigmore. He was dressed in a smart suit and a bow tie, just like someone playing in a real orchestra. He was followed by his double bass. Or rather, he was followed by Thomas and Pete, carrying the double bass for him.

  Miss Worlock smiled her horrible smile at the audience who clapped politely. ‘Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,’ she said. ‘Welcome to the first concert by the St Barty’s School orchestra, who will demonstrate the

  success of my So-Spooky method of music teaching. May I introduce my star pupil, Hamish Bigmore, who will play “The Elephant” from “The Carnival of Animals”? Hamish has been my star pupil this term, and after the concert I shall reward him by teaching him a lot more! Tee-hee!’ She turned to the orchestra. ‘And if you don’t all play the right notes,’ she snarled at them, ‘you know what will happen to you. Toads, every one of you! And as for you two,’ she turned to Thomas and Pete, ‘worse than toads for you, if you don’t play the right notes. I’ll make you into insects. So watch it!’

  She sat down at the piano, rapped her knuckles on the lid to call for complete silence, then played the first notes of ‘The Elephant’. The whole orchestra joined in with her.

  ‘Um-pum-pum, um-pum-pum,’ went the recorders, the violins, the clarinets and the trumpets. And then the double bass began to play: ‘Rum-tum-tum, tum-tiddle-iddle, rum-tum-tum…’

  Hamish Bigmore sawed away with his bow. And, up at the top end, Thomas and Pete pressed their fingers on the strings so that he played the right notes.

  Everything seemed to be going all too well.

  Then Pete, out of the corner of his eye, noticed the door at the back of the hall opening, and Mr Majeika slipping quietly in. A moment later, Mr Majeika had vanished – he didn’t go out of the door again, but just disappeared, in an instant!

  A few moments later, the trouble started.

  Hamish Bigmore, sawing away with his double bass bow, stopped playing for a moment, then went on again. Miss Worlock glared at him.

  ‘There was a fly on the end of his nose,’ whispered Thomas.

  ‘Rum-rum-tum, tum-tiddle-iddle…’ And again, Hamish stopped for a moment. This time he slapped the end of his nose. The fly flew off.

  Miss Worlock glared at him again. He hastily began to play once more. ‘Rum-tum-tum –’ And a third time he stopped playing, now scratching his nose in fury.

  The whole orchestra stopped. Miss Worlock was in a towering rage. ‘What’s going on?’ she screeched at Hamish. ‘Why aren’t you playing properly?’

  ‘There’s – there’s a fly on my nose!’ stammered Hamish.

  ‘A fly?’ Miss Worlock shouted. ‘Why should a fly stop you? Get on with it, boy, and if I have any more trouble you know what’ll happen to you.’

  ‘But – but I’m your star pupil,’ spluttered Hamish. ‘You can’t do anything nasty to me.’

  ‘Oh, can’t I?’ sneered Miss Worlock. ‘That’s what you think. Let me tell you, Hamish Bigmore, I’m not going to teach you any of my secrets after this, and if you don’t want to be turned into a you-know-what, you’d better not make any mis
takes again. Now, back to the beginning everyone.’

  She began to play the piano once more, and Hamish and the orchestra joined in. ‘Rum-tum-tum, tum-tiddle-iddle…’

  This time, Hamish didn’t stop. But Thomas and Pete could see that he was still having trouble with the fly. He was puffing and blowing out of the corner of his mouth, in an

  attempt to get it off the end of his nose. But it went on sitting there, walking up and down and tickling him as if it knew perfectly well the trouble it was causing.

  The fly walking up and down, and Hamish puffing and panting as he sawed away with the double-bass bow, was all too much for Thomas and Pete. They began to laugh. And as a result, they started to play the wrong notes for Hamish. In a moment the double bass was making a terrible noise.

  At this, the whole orchestra stopped playing and everyone began to laugh. Not just the children, but the parents too. The sight of Hamish still struggling with the fly while trying not to take his bow off the double bass was too much for everyone. ‘Rum-tum-tum’ went the huge instrument, but now all the notes were wrong and there was Hamish still sawing away and puffing as if he were trying to cut down a tree.

  The laughter got louder and louder.

  ‘Do you know what,’ said Pete to Thomas, ‘I think the fly is really Mr Majeika! I think he turned himself into it to muck up the concert. Good old Mr Majeika!’

  And at that instant, the fly vanished and Mr Majeika appeared again, standing in a corner hidden behind the double bass so that Miss Worlock couldn’t see him. ‘Ssh!’ he said to Thomas and Pete, holding his finger to his lips.

  Meanwhile the laughter got louder and louder. ‘Enough!’ shrieked Miss Worlock in a fury. ‘Silence! I warned you all! Toads, I said, and I shall do it! I shall turn every one of you into toads.’ She turned to the parents. ‘And you too, you ungrateful lot, not appreciating Wilhelmina Worlock and her So-Spooky method. Toads, all of you.’ And she began to chant words which Thomas, Pete and Jody knew all too well were a spell.

  At this moment, Mr Majeika turned himself into an elephant.

  6. Miss Worlock catches the post

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ gasped Thomas. ‘Good old Mr Majeika!’

  Jody heard him and guessed what had happened. ‘Good old Mr Majeika!’ she shouted at the elephant, which waved its trunk at her cheerily. ‘It’s good old Mr Majeika, come to deal with the wicked witch. Come on, Mr Majeika, you show Miss Worlock who knows the cleverest magic!’

  In a moment the whole orchestra was shouting: ‘Come on, Mr Majeika!’

  The elephant picked its way carefully between the music-stands, and advanced on Miss Worlock.

  ‘No, no!’ screamed Hamish Bigmore. Picking up his double bass, he ran at the elephant and banged the huge musical instrument against its side. The elephant turned on him, wound its trunk around the neck of the double bass, and, using it as a

  cricket bat, dealt Hamish a hefty thump on the bottom. Hamish flew across the hall and landed in the arms of his doting parents, who were sitting in the front row.

  ‘Oh, poor little Hamie!’ screeched his mother. ‘We must take you out of this rough place at once.’ And she and Hamish’s father bustled out of the hall, dragging the protesting Hamish who obviously wanted to stay and see the fun that was starting.

  The elephant turned once more on Miss Worlock. But where was she? In an instant, not to be outdone by Mr Majeika, she had turned herself into a rhinoceros with a dangerous-looking horn. It was frightening but also funny because Thomas, Pete and Jody could see that the rhino had Miss Worlock’s face – her horrid grin, her straggly long hair, and even her gold-rimmed glasses, which looked ridiculous perched on the end of its nose. ‘And the elephant looks just like Mr Majeika,’ shouted Thomas. ‘It’s got his beard and glasses.’

  The rhino lowered her horn. ‘Oh, watch out, Mr Majeika!’ yelled Jody.

  But the elephant had already vanished, Mr Majeika obviously thinking that he didn’t stand a chance against the wicked-looking rhino with its sharp horn. He had turned himself into, of all things, a motor-bike, presumably so that he could make a fast getaway before he thought of the next move, and in a moment he had roared out of the school hall and into the playground.

  Out after him rushed the rhino, with everyone following to see what would happen. There was the motor-bike, revving up in a corner of the playground – and once again, like the elephant, it had Mr Majeika’s face, glasses, and beard. But before the children had time to start laughing at this extraordinary sight, the rhino had turned into the most enormous lorry – again, with Miss Worlock’s face, hair, and glasses at its front end – and was roaring across the playground to crush the motor-bike beneath its huge wheels.

  The motor-bike vanished. ‘Oh no!’ cried Jody. ‘Has she killed him? Poor Mr Majeika, where are you?’

  The lorry put on its brakes and screeched to a standstill, obviously uncertain where its enemy had got to. Then suddenly there was a loud hissing, and the lorry sank to the ground quite unable to move.

  ‘What’s happened?’ shouted Pete. ‘Oh, I see – clever old Mr Majeika! He’s turned himself into a nail, and he’s punctured her tyres. She can’t move. That’s brilliant!’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Mr Majeika’s voice, as he reappeared in his ordinary shape, standing among the onlookers. ‘I think that’s going to keep her quiet for a moment. But we’ve got to think of some way of getting rid of her properly so she just can’t come back again. Oh, if only I had time to think.’ He scratched his head anxiously. ‘Oh dear,’ he said, ‘here she goes again.’ And already the lorry had vanished, and Miss Worlock, after reappearing briefly as herself and sticking out her tongue rudely at Mr Majeika, had turned herself into a tiger. ‘Not very imaginative,’ said Mr Majeika gloomily, ‘but it could be nasty.’

  ‘Mr Majeika,’ said Jody breathlessly, ‘I’ve had an idea. She came here in an envelope. Do you think we could get her to go away in one?’

  Mr Majeika had already turned himself into a lion, but he turned back into himself again for a moment and called excitedly to Jody: ‘An envelope? Yes, it’s worth trying. Go and get one! And put a stamp on it!’ Then he turned into a lion again. Jody rushed off to Mr Potter’s office.

  The tiger (which of course had Miss Worlock’s face) advanced, snarling, on the

  Majeika-lion, then sprang and sank its teeth into the lion’s neck.

  The lion vanished, and a groan went up.

  ‘Oh no!’ shouted Thomas, ‘I think she’s got him! This is awful!’

  It did indeed seem to be the end of Mr Majeika. There was absolutely no sign of him at all. The tiger sniffed around for a moment, then turned herself back into Miss Worlock.

  ‘Well, my dears,’ she said in her nastiest voice, ‘I’m afraid poor Mr Majeika has met with a rather nasty accident. We shan’t be seeing him again. And that should be a warning to everyone not to meddle with Wilhelmina Worlock. I’m afraid our little concert wasn’t a great success, but never mind. I’m in charge of St Barty’s School now.’

  At that moment, Jody came running back into the playground, waving an envelope in her hand. ‘I’ve got it,’ she cried. ‘And there’s a first-class stamp on it.’ Then she saw Miss Worlock standing triumphant.

  ‘Be quiet, child!’ snapped Miss Worlock. ‘As I was saying, I’m in charge here now, and I’m going to rename St Barty’s the Wilhelmina Worlock School of Music, on the So-Spooky method, and –’ She broke off, crossly. Suddenly she started to scratch herself

  furiously. ‘Dratted flea,’ she snapped. ‘It must have been on one of the animals. Bother it! It’s bitten me. As I was saying – oh, drat!’ She was scratching like mad now. ‘Wretched thing!’ she screamed. ‘It’s biting me all over. Flea bites! I’m covered with them! How can I stop it?’

  ‘Try fly-paper,’ called a voice from the far corner of the playground. The children whizzed round to see who was speaking, but there was no one there – though just for a

  moment
they thought they saw Mr Majeika! ‘He’s alive!’ whispered Jody.

  ‘He must be the flea,’ whispered Thomas.

  Miss Worlock’s face had lit up. ‘Fly-paper!’ she cried. ‘What a brilliant idea. Does everyone here know what fly-paper is? That nasty sticky-covered paper that you use for catching flies. Everything sticks to it. It will do the job very well. And if, as I suspect, this flea is really our old friend Mr Majeika – ow! It’s biting me again! – then it really will finish him this time. He’ll be trapped on it, and I can squash him. Now!’ She vanished. And there in her place, waving in the breeze as it flapped around the playground, was a large strip of sticky, yellow fly-paper.

  In an instant Mr Majeika had reappeared. ‘Quick! Catch her and roll her up!’ he shouted.

  Thomas, Pete and Jody rushed on the fly-paper, which of course had the face of

  Miss Worlock, all flattened. In an instant they had scrumpled and squashed the horrible, sticky paper into a flat bundle.

  ‘But can’t she turn herself back again?’ panted Pete.

  Mr Majeika shook his head. ‘Not till she gets untangled,’ he said. ‘Look, she’s in a right old mess! She can’t move or recite spells or do anything. It’ll take her at least a month, till the stickiness has dried off the paper, for her to wriggle free. Now, quick, into the envelope with her!’

  They squashed Miss Worlock into the envelope. ‘Now,’ said Mr Majeika. He took a pen, and wrote on the front of the envelope:

  URGENT

  Please send by AIR MAIL

  as quickly as possible

  to the General Post Office, Timbuctoo

  ‘That should deal with her,’ he said cheerily. ‘Now, quick, off to the postbox with her – I think I can see the postman coming to empty it now.’ Jody took the envelope and ran across the street. She was just in time to catch the post with Miss Worlock. She thought she felt the fly-paper wriggling inside the envelope as she handed it to the postman, but he slipped it into his bag without looking at it and drove off in his van. Jody breathed a sigh of relief.