At that moment there was a loud scream from the kitchen. Two screams, in fact: Cook and Mrs Chipchase.
‘Dear me,’ said Mr Majeika. ‘Something seems to be a little wrong. Shall we go and see?’
In the kitchen Cook and Mrs Chipchase were dancing about on top of the table, as if something was trying to eat them.
‘Help!’ they were screaming. ‘Help! Take them away!’
The floor was covered with wriggling creatures. There were worms, snails, slugs, cockroaches, enormous spiders and some very peculiar-looking creepy-crawlies.
‘Help! Help!’ screamed Cook and Mrs Chipchase.
‘What are they?’ Jody asked Mr Majeika. ‘Where did they all come from?’
‘Those,’ said Mr Majeika, pointing at the creepy-crawlies, the worms, snails, slugs, spiders and cockroaches, ‘were in Hamish Bigmore’s packed lunch today.’
‘Where’s my chocolate?’ said a cross voice. It was Hamish Bigmore. ‘Mrs Chipchase, your favourite friend wants his chocolate.’
‘Favourite friend, indeed!’ screamed out Mrs Chipchase, purple in the face. ‘How dare you treat Cook and me like that! What a horrid trick, to put all those creepy things in our packed lunch.
‘But – but it wasn’t me, Mrs Chipchase,’ spluttered Hamish. ‘Really, it wasn’t!’
‘Well, if it wasn’t you,’ shouted Mrs Chipchase, ‘then it must have been the other horrid brats. What a way to treat Cook and me after all the years of service we’ve given the school. I shall tell Mr Potter that we’re leaving right away, and we won’t be back! Oh, won’t he let you have it when he hears about this!’
‘That worked even better than you planned, didn’t it, Mr Majeika?’ asked Jody late that afternoon. Mrs Chipchase and Cook had stormed off, and everyone was feeling very jolly – except Hamish Bigmore, who was sulking in a corner.
‘Yes, it did rather,’ said Mr Majeika. ‘I never guessed she’d walk out. I just thought she’d be cross with Hamish.’
‘How did you do it?’ asked Thomas. ‘Did you magic the packed lunch so that it was full of all those creatures?’
Mr Majeika nodded. ‘I thought it was time that Cook and Mrs Chipchase sampled the sort of thing that wizards eat for their lunch. Actually, they taste very nice – though I suppose they wouldn’t be everyone’s favourite dish.’ He sighed. ‘That was easy enough to do. But I’m going to need some strong magic to help me now.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Pete.
‘I’ve told Mr Potter I’ll cook the school dinners for a week until a new cook has been found,’ said Mr Majeika.
‘Hurray!’ exclaimed Jody. ‘Good food at last!’
Mr Majeika shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t be too certain about that. The only sort of food I know how to cook is the kind that wizards eat. I’ve really no idea how to make the sort of thing that children like.’
‘It should be easy,’ said Thomas. ‘There’s a menu pinned up on the school notice-board. It tells you what’s going to be served for lunch. You just cook the food it says for each day. And I expect you could find a book to tell you how to do the actual cooking.’
‘Maybe,’ said Mr Majeika rather doubtfully. ‘Anyway, I shall have a helper. I’ve told Hamish Bigmore to be my potato-peeler and washer-up. I thought the hard work would do him good.’
Hamish Bigmore glared at them from his corner.
For four days, from Monday to Thursday, they had marvellous food. Mr Majeika produced delicious fish
fingers, beefburgers, baked beans, chips, ice-cream and all the other things that everyone really liked. ‘It’s quite easy,’ he said. ‘You just buy the things from the shops and read the instructions on the packets.’ He kept Hamish hard at work, pushing the trolley, collecting the empty plates and washing up. Hamish looked furious, but there was nothing he could do about it.
Then came Friday, Mr Majeika’s last day as school cook – Mr Potter had announced that somebody new was coming on Monday. ‘I wonder what Mr Majeika’s made for us today,’ said Jody. ‘I forgot to look at the menu.’
‘I bet it’s marvellous, whatever it is,’ said Thomas. ‘No more bony sausages, no more greasy old spaghetti. Ah, here comes Hamish with it now.’
Hamish was pushing the dinner-trolley out of the kitchen. It was piled high with covered dishes.
‘What is it today, Hamish?’ Peter called out.
‘You’ll see,’ said Hamish, grinning his usual nasty grin.
‘I don’t know what you’ve got to smile about, Hamish,’ said Thomas. ‘No chocolate for you any more.’
Hamish didn’t reply, but went round the tables handing out the dishes. Mr Majeika came out of the kitchen wearing an apron. ‘I do hope it’s all right,’ he said anxiously. ‘It seems rather an odd thing to give to schoolchildren, though wizards would certainly like it.’
‘What is it, Mr Majeika?’ asked Jody.
‘Well,’ said Mr Majeika, ‘you’d better take off the lid and see.’
The children lifted the lids off their plates. They stared at what was on the plates. And beady eyes stared back at them.
‘Toads!’ shrieked Jody. ‘Toads sitting in piles of moss and stones! Is this a joke, Mr Majeika?’
Mr Majeika shook his head sadly. ‘Not at all. Haven’t I got it right? Toad-in-the-hole did seem a funny thing to have on the menu, but Hamish Bigmore said you often ate it.’
‘Yes,’ said Peter, ‘we do, but it’s not supposed to be quite like this, Mr Majeika. Oh dear, it seems that Hamish has had the last word as usual!’
2. Three Little Pigs
‘Pigs!’ snorted Hamish Bigmore. ‘Horses! Sheep! Cows! What a silly babyish waste of time.’
Mr Potter was pinning up a notice on the school board:
VISIT TO THE BARTYSHIRE FARM PARK
to see rare breeds of pigs, horses, sheep, cattle and other animals. Don’t be late!
Bus leaves Monday at 9 a.m. sharp.
‘How stupid can you get,’ muttered Hamish. ‘Why don’t we go and see something useful, like a gun museum or a computer factory? Rare breeds! I never heard such silly nonsense.’
‘I should think they might have a
job for you at the Farm Park,’ said Thomas. ‘They could put you in a field labelled “Rarest breed of all. Hamish Bigmore – the only one ever discovered. Thank goodness!” ’
Hamish kicked him hard on the ankle.
‘It’s very annoying,’ said Mr Potter. ‘I’ve never known them send too small a bus before. I can’t think what we’re going to do.’
It was Monday morning and very cold, and a bus that seated only twenty-nine people was standing outside the gates of St Barty’s School. There were thirty children in Class Three, plus Mr Majeika and Mr Potter, who was coming on the expedition as well, making thirty-two in all.
‘Couldn’t three of the children sit on the floor?’ asked Mr Majeika.
Mr Potter shook his head. ‘The driver won’t allow it. He says he’s only permitted to carry twenty-nine, and he’ll get in trouble with the police if he crams any more in.’
‘Well,’ said Mr Majeika, ‘maybe you could take the expedition to the Farm Park by yourself, and I could stay behind and look after the two children who can’t go on the bus.’
The truth was that Mr Majeika didn’t want to go to the Farm Park any more than Hamish Bigmore did. It was a very cold day for being outdoors.
Mr Potter shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think so, Mr Majeika. If you haven’t been to the Farm Park yourself, how could you organize a project about the rare breeds?’
Mr Majeika sighed. Organizing projects and all that sort of thing still seemed very odd to him. He wished, not for the first time, that teaching was as easy as being a wizard, when all you had to do was make spells and enjoy yourself.
‘Very well, Mr Potter,’ he said sadly. ‘If I take two children with me, I expect we can catch an ordinary bus at the bus-stop. We’ll soon get there. Now,’ and he turned to Class Three, ‘who would
like to come with me on an ordinary bus?’
Everyone put up their hands except Hamish Bigmore. There was so much argument about who was going to have the fun of going with Mr Majeika that in the end they had to put everyone’s names in a hat. Mr Majeika shook them all up and picked out two. The names chosen were Thomas and Jody.
Peter was very upset. ‘I’m going to have an awful boring journey by myself,’ he said, ‘while you two are having a lovely time with Mr Majeika. It isn’t fair!’
Mr Majeika, Thomas and Jody had to wait a long time before a bus came, and they had a long slow journey. On the way they even had to change buses.
As they got nearer to the Farm Park, it started to get foggy. ‘What does this remind you of?’ asked Mr Majeika.
‘The journey we made to the haunted hotel,’ Jody said at once. ‘But that was in a really creepy place up on the hills, and this is just ordinary countryside. You wouldn’t expect to
find Wilhelmina Worlock in a place like this!’
‘I was just thinking,’ said Thomas, ‘that it’s a long time – thank goodness! – since we’ve seen anything of Miss Worlock. Maybe she’s decided to leave us alone at last.’
Wilhelmina Worlock was a witch, and a very nasty witch at that. She had arrived at St Barty’s and tried to turn Class Three into the Wilhelmina Worlock School of Music. Hamish Bigmore had liked her because she called him her Star Pupil, but everyone else hated her because she made their fingers itch if they didn’t practise their musical instruments. Mr Majeika had had to wage a battle against her, with each of them turning into different animals, before he could get rid of her. And soon afterwards she lured them to a haunted hotel and tried to frighten them in revenge. That time, Mr Majeika had managed to take her off to Ancient Rome, where he and Class Three had left her about to be eaten by lions.
‘I expect that’s the last we’ll ever see of her,’ said Jody.
‘I hope so,’ said Mr Majeika.
It was nearly lunch-time when they
finally reached the Farm Park, and the fog had become very thick. ‘It doesn’t look very nice here,’ said Jody.
It certainly didn’t. The Farm Park was just a big field, down a lane from a road that seemed to lead nowhere. There was a brick building labelled ‘Café, Light Refreshments,’ and a wooden hut where someone was supposed to sit and take people’s money. And beyond that, Mr Majeika, Thomas and Jody could hear snuffles and snorts and grunts from the animals.
The odd thing was, there were no people anywhere. The fog was so thick that it was hard to see very far, but there was certainly no one in the wooden hut to take their money, so they walked straight in. When they got inside, they couldn’t see any sign of the rest of Class Three.
‘Perhaps they haven’t got here yet,’ suggested Thomas.
‘Oh, but they must have,’ said Mr Majeika. ‘They started a long time before us, and their bus came straight here. I saw it parked outside in the road and it was empty.’
‘Well,’ said Jody, ‘we’d better have a look round. But it seems pretty creepy to me.’
It was creepy. The fog swirled around, and the animals stared sadly at them through the fences. They didn’t look happy. They seemed to have been given plenty to eat, and there was lots of lush green grass for the horses and sheep and cattle to chew, but something seemed to be wrong. They all had the oddest expressions on their faces.
‘They’re not like any animals I’ve ever seen,’ said Jody. ‘I mean, I know they’re rare breeds, but even so, they’re very strange. I mean, look at that horse!’
A horse was staring intently at them across the fence. A notice said:
HORSUS BANKUS MANAGERIUS
A speesies very often found in British towns
Can be very narsty if asked for money
‘How very peculiar,’ said Mr Majeika. ‘Horsus Bankus Managerius? What can that mean?’
‘It’s Latin,’ said Thomas. ‘Horsus means horse.’
‘No, it doesn’t,’ said Jody. ‘We learnt some Latin last year with Mr Potter, when we did a project on the Ancient Romans, and I remember the word for horse. It’s equus. People often use Latin names for different types of animals or flowers, but this has been written by someone who doesn’t know Latin.’
‘And doesn’t know how to spell either,’ said Thomas. ‘Speesies and narsty aren’t right.’
‘What does Bankus Managerius mean?’ asked Mr Majeika, very puzzled.
‘That’s obvious,’ said Thomas. ‘It’s Bank Manager. My dad is always complaining about his bank manager, because he won’t lend him any more money. Come to think of it, the horse does look a bit like a bank manager.’
‘I’m sure he’s listening to you,’ said Jody. ‘And look, he’s nodding! Oh, let’s go, I don’t like this at all.’
‘It’s certainly most peculiar,’ said Mr Majeika. ‘Let’s go and see the pigs. I’m sure they’ll be more cheerful.’
On the way to the pigs they passed some other creatures with curious names. There was a Goatus Trafficus Wardenus, which was black with yellow stripes, a Sheepus Rudus
Policemanus, which had a sort of bump on its head that looked rather like a helmet, and a Bullus Sillius Headmasterus, a very dazed-looking bull that was trying to scratch its head with its hoof.
‘It’s very funny,’ said Jody, ‘but that bull has something about it that reminds me of Mr Potter. Oh look, here are the pigs.’
The pigs were making a lot more noise than the other animals, but they didn’t seem to be any happier. Three of the smaller ones rushed up to the fence and began to squeal at Thomas, Jody and Mr Majeika.
‘Poor little things,’ said Jody. ‘I wonder what can be wrong with them.’
Thomas bent down to pat them and then stood up looking rather white in
the face. ‘I can’t believe it,’ he said, ‘but do you know who that pig reminds me of?’ He pointed at a piglet that was bouncing up and down even more than the others.
Jody looked at it carefully. ‘Your brother Peter,’ she said. As if in answer, the piglet squealed wildly.
‘And the one next to it is crying,’ said Thomas, ‘just like Melanie always does in class.’
‘And the third one,’ said Jody, ‘looks just like Pandora Green. Are we imagining it, Mr Majeika, or is something very, very peculiar going on?’
Mr Majeika was looking worried. ‘I think we’d better go and find the owner of this place,’ he said. ‘We must ask for an explanation.’
They made their way back towards the main gate. When they got to the wooden hut, they saw that the gate itself had been closed. It was fastened with a big chain and padlock and there was barbed wire across the top of it.
‘We’ve been locked in!’ said Jody nervously. ‘There must be some human person around to have done that.’
‘Yes, there is,’ whispered Thomas. ‘There’s someone in the ticket office now.’
‘Come to buy your tickets, have you, dearies?’ hissed a voice. ‘Come to Wilhelmina’s Farm Park, have you? Well, isn’t that nice! Come and join the family!’
‘Wilhelmina Worlock!’ said Mr Majeika. ‘I might have guessed that you were behind all this.’ Miss Worlock took them on a tour of her Farm Park. ‘Been building this up all year, I has,’ she explained. ’Ever since I got back from Ancient Rome. Wilhelmina thought she’d have a bit of fun, dearies, and not just with schoolchildren this time. She’s been getting her own back on everyone who’s been nasty to her.’
’Bank managers and traffic wardens and policemen?’ said Thomas.
‘That’s right, dearie. Very fine animals, they is, and now they won’t trouble poor Wilhelmina any more. And now, dearies, it’s your turn. You two kids’ll make very fine piglets like the rest, though as for you –’ and she turned to Mr Majeika, ‘we’ll need to make something special out of you, my fine wizard. I should think a worm would suit you nicely. Yes, we’ll turn you into a wriggly worm, and then these little pigs can gobble you up.’
‘Can’t you do something, Mr Majeika?’ said Jody breathlessly. ‘Can’t you cast a spell before she does?’
Mr Majeika sighed heavily. ‘Yes, Jody, I can. But we’ve been through all that before. When Wilhelmina and I have a battle of magic, it’s anybody’s guess who’s going to win. Really, Wilhelmina,’ he turned to Miss Worlock, ‘aren’t you getting a bit old for this sort of thing? Isn’t it time you taught your evil arts to someone a bit younger – perhaps to Hamish Bigmore?’
‘Yes, where is Hamish Bigmore?’ asked Thomas. ‘What did you turn him into? A piggier pig than all the rest?’
Miss Worlock shook her head. ‘Your friend Wizard Majeika has guessed right,’ she said. ‘Don’t forget that darling little Hamish has always been my Star Pupil. I’m teaching him to take over all Wilhelmina’s clever witchery. Right now he’s sitting over there in the café, studying my books of spells very, very hard. Oh, he’s going to be a clever little wizard, is our Hamish.’
‘H’mm, maybe,’ said Mr Majeika thoughtfully. ‘But when I peeped through the café window just now, your Star Pupil wasn’t working hard at all, Wilhelmina. At least, he wasn’t working on your spell books. He was working his hardest to eat up all the chocolate and sweets in the place.’
‘What!’ screamed Wilhelmina. ‘The greedy little brat! I’ll turn him into a toad, the ungrateful blighter. Just wait!’ And, muttering to herself, she bustled off towards the café.
‘Quick!’ whispered Mr Majeika. ‘Let’s look in here!’ And he dived into the ticket hut, emerging a moment later with an old leather-bound notebook. ‘Yes, here it is!’ he said excitedly. ‘This is the spell Wilhelmina
used this morning to turn Class Three into animals. Quick now, and I’ll reverse it.’
He muttered some words to himself and waved his arms. The air seemed to quiver in front of Jody and Thomas. A moment later they could hear cheering.
Mr Majeika and the Dinner Lady Page 2