and pulled it tightly. It worked! The chair stopped in mid-air, hovering over the open window.
“Let’s see if I can make it move again,” she said. She took off the brake, and the chair began to move upwards. “I’ll try the wheels,” she called. She turned one of the wheels a little, and the chair moved to the left. She turned the other, and it moved to the right. Then she turned them both, and it went down, nearly dropping through the window again. “This is wonderful!” she called. “I can go and rescue Mr. Majeika.”
“You might think about rescuing me too,” said Thomas. “I don’t terribly want to spend the rest of my life in this broom cupboard.”
“What did you say?” called Jody, because it was difficult to hear Thomas from up in the air.
“I said broom cupboard,” shouted Thomas.
“That’s it!” yelled Jody excitedly. “I’ve got it! If the spell works for a boat and a wheelchair, it might work for a –” The wind carried her last word away, and Thomas didn’t hear it.
“Did you say a room?” he shouted. “I’ve never heard of a flying room.”
“Not a room, you idiot,” Jody shouted back. “A broom! If witches fly on brooms, so can you. Grab one of them quickly, and say the words.”
The cupboard was full of brooms and brushes and mops, but Thomas couldn’t imagine how he could fly safely on any of them. Then he saw something stacked up behind them. “I’ve got it!” he shouted. He dived in among all the things, and pulled out a big vacuum cleaner. It was shaped like a sausage on wheels. “This’ll be safe to sit on,” he called. “But I can’t remember the magic words.”
Jody steered the wheelchair down a few feet, so that it was hovering in the opening of the window. Then she called out the magic words.
“It’s working!” cried Thomas. The vacuum cleaner had taken off from the floor of the broom cupboard. He was sitting astride it, holding on as tight as he could. “Here I come!” he shouted, pulling the nose of the vacuum cleaner upwards.
“Careful!” called Jody. “Let me get out of the way first.” She steered the wheelchair up again, just as Thomas zoomed out of the window at high speed. He circled round and round the chair, shouting “Look at me! I’m flying!”
“You should have taken off the pipe thing,” shouted Jody. From the front of
the vaccum cleaner hung a long pipe with a nozzle at the end – except that it wasn’t hanging any more. It was waving around wildly like the trunk of a mad elephant.
“Never mind,” called Thomas. “There’s no time to waste. We’re off to rescue Mr Majeika!”
Meanwhile, about two miles away, Uncle Wilf was driving his big black van very fast along a narrow country lane. Beside him in the passenger seat, Wilhelmina Worlock was rubbing her hands with glee. “Tee hee!” she was saying. “No escape for you this time, Majeika!”
In the back of the van, Mr Majeika was lying on a stretcher. Both his legs were in plaster, but Wilhelmina and Uncle Wilf weren’t taking any chances. They’d tied his hands behind his back and fixed a large gag over his mouth, so that he couldn’t say any spells. In fact he didn’t look as if he’d ever say anything again. His eyes were shut, and he only moved when the van swerved, which made him roll around the floor.
Next to him, on a pile of old sacks, sat Hamish Bigmore, stuffing his mouth from a very large box of chocolates.
“Hasn’t your Star Pupil done well?” he called out to Wilhelmina, splattering Mr Majeika with bits of chocolate when he opened his mouth.
“Yes, dearie,” said Wilhelmina. “But don’t eat yourself sick. Wilhelmina has got another job for her Star Pupil right away.”
“Whassat?” grumbled Hamish, who didn’t want to do any jobs.
“Wilhelmina wants her Star Pupil to go back to that silly old school of his,” cooed Miss Worlock, “and give them a ransom note.”
“A what?” spluttered Hamish.
“A letter telling them to give Wilhelmina five million pounds, otherwise something very, very nasty will happen to our friend Majeika. That’s right, isn’t it?” she cooed, turning to Uncle Wilf.
“Yer,” said Uncle Wilf, “somethink very narrsty.” And he and Wilhelmina both laughed horribly.
Just at that moment, there was a sudden banging and crashing above their heads. “A thunderstorm,” growled Uncle Wilf, looking nervous. “I’m frightened of thunderstorms.” He started to shiver.
Wilhelmina rolled down the window on her side and looked out. “It’s not a thunderstorm,” she snapped. “It’s some stupid kid on the roof of the van. One of Majeika’s little friends. We’ll have to shake him off.”
“And look!” shouted Hamish, peering through the back window of the van. “There are two strange creatures flying after us. Help! We’re being pursued!”
“Tee hee,” cackled Wilhelmina. “We know what to do about that, don’t we, Wilf?”
“Yer,” growled Uncle Wilf. “We’re gonna do somethink very, very narrsty. Har har har!”
6. How to find five million
At a quarter to nine the next morning, Mr Potter came into Class Three and told them: “I’m going to have to teach you today, because Mr Majeika is still in hospital after his accident.”
“Is Jody still in hospital too?” asked Melanie. “She hasn’t turned up this morning.”
“And Thomas and Pete aren’t here either,” said Pandora Green.
“Hamish Bigmore’s not here,” said someone else.
“Oh dear,” said Mr Potter. “So many people are missing. I can’t take the register because it’s locked up in my office, and our school caretaker hasn’t turned up this morning either, and he has the key.”
“My mum was driving me back from a friend’s house in the country quite late last night,” said Melanie, “and the caretaker’s big black van overtook us. It was going so fast it nearly pushed us into the ditch.”
“Never mind that now,” said Mr Potter. “We’d better get on with a lesson.”
At that moment, the door of Class Three began to open very slowly. When the gap was just wide enough, an envelope was pushed through it by a hand. On the envelope was written, in big black writing, the words RANSOM DEMAND.
“Look, Mr Potter!” called everyone.
Mr Potter took the envelope from the hand and opened the door fully. But the
owner of the hand had run away.
“I’m sure it was Hamish Bigmore,” said Melanie. “I heard him laughing as he ran off.”
Mr Potter was about to open the envelope, when there was a strange whooshing noise outside in the playground. Everyone ran to look out of the window. “It’s Jody in a flying wheelchair!” shouted Pandora.
“And Thomas on what looks like a flying elephant,” said Pandora. “Oh no, it’s a Hoover! It must be some of Mr Majeika’s magic, but there’s no sign of Mr Majeika.”
Thomas climbed off the vacuum cleaner and helped Jody get her wheelchair through the door into the school building. “You’re late,” Mr Potter said to them both, when they finally arrived in Class Three. “And Thomas, I don’t know where you got that vacuum cleaner, but you must take it back, as soon as school is finished this afternoon.” So much magic had been done at St Barty’s School since Mr Majeika arrived that Mr Potter had stopped being surprised at anything unusual.
“There’s no time to lose, Mr Potter,” gasped Jody. “We need your help to rescue Mr Majeika!”
“Rescue him?” repeated Mr Potter, scratching his head. “I thought he was in hospital.”
“Miss Worlock and Hamish’s Uncle Wilf have stolen him from the hospital,” said Thomas, holding on to a table to steady himself because he was feeling very airsick after his long flight on the vacuum cleaner.
“We’ve been chasing them all night,” said Jody. “When they saw we were after them, they played a dirty trick. They drove the van to a power station with huge cooling towers, so that we flew straight into the towers and nearly had a bad accident. By the time we’d got ourselves sorted out
again, they’d vanished.”
“It took us ages to find them,” said Thomas. “But in the end we saw where they are.”
“They’ve taken Mr Majeika to an enormous quarry, a huge hole in the ground, with water and rocks at the bottom. And they’re going to push him over the edge if –”
“If we don’t give them lots and lots of money,” said Thomas, interrupting Jody.
Mr Potter scratched his head again. “I’ll certainly do what I can to help,” he said. “I’ve got about thirty-six pounds in the dinner-money box, but it’s locked up in my office. We’ll have to ask Hamish’s Uncle Wilf for the key.”
“That’s not nearly enough, Mr Potter,” said Jody. “Open the letter.”
Mr Potter tore open the envelope, and read:
Dear Potty Potter
You must bring FIVE MILLION POUNDS to the Old Quarry by twelve o’clock, or Majeika will MEET HIS END, tee hee hee!
From your Old Chum
Wilhelmina
PS Also, if you don’t bring the money, I’LL TURN YOU ALL INTO TOADS!
Melanie began to cry. “It’s all right,” said Thomas. “We’ll make sure no one turns you into a toad, Melanie.”
“It’s not that,” sobbed Melanie. “I’m frightened for Mr Majeika. They can have all the money that I’ve got in the post office, but there’s only about thirty pounds.”
Everyone else offered money, and Mr Potter wrote down how much it would come to if they all handed over their savings. “I’ve got two thousand pounds in the post office myself,” he said, “and we can give them that too.” But even with his kind offer, the total only came to £2,836.27.
“What on earth are we going to do?” said Thomas, desperately.
Jody was looking round the room. “I’ve got an idea. Has anybody seen the Monopoly set?”
An hour later, the school minibus, with Mr Potter driving and Class Three crammed into the back, turned off the main road and followed a sign saying TO OLD QUARRY. “Slow down, Mr Potter,” said Jody, “otherwise we’ll fall straight over the edge.”
“Park by that tree over there,” said Thomas. “The one they’ve tied my brother to.”
“They’ve tied your brother to a tree?” said Mr Potter. “Goodness, you never mentioned that.”
“Oh, Pete will be all right,” said Thomas. “It’s Mr Majeika I want to rescue. Well, I don’t mind if Pete gets rescued too, I suppose.”
“Pete was very brave,” said Jody. “They drove the van very, very fast so as to make him fall off the roof. But he held on tight, and when they stopped, he tried to fight them, so they tied him up.”
“Here we are,” said Jody. “Stop the van here, Mr Potter.”
No sooner had Mr Potter put on the brakes than a hand was tapping at the window of the driver’s door. It was Wilhelmina Worlock. “Hello, dearie,” she said to Mr Potter. “You’re all nice and early. And have you got lots of lovely cash for little Wilhelmina?”
“Here you are,” said Mr Potter, handing over a parcel. “There are exactly five million pounds in there. And you’ll also find that we have given you the ownership of lots of streets and hotels and famous buildings in London.”
“That’s very nice of you, dearie,” said Miss Worlock. “Poor old Wilhelmina doesn’t usually get treated so kindly. In that case, you can have your friend Majeika back right away.”
Everything might have gone all right if Pete, who was tied to the tree, hadn’t started laughing. He had seen what was inside the envelope when Miss Worlock opened it and started to count the banknotes. “What’s up with you, you little weasel?” she snarled, turning on him.
“Here, let me look,” squeaked another voice. It was Hamish Bigmore. He ran up and snatched some of the banknotes from Wilhelmina.
“Give them back, Hamish Bigmouth!”
she shrieked at him. “Who said you could have any?”
“You’re welcome to it,” laughed Hamish. “It isn’t real money at all. It’s from a game called Monopoly, and it isn’t worth a penny.”
“Is that so, dearie?” said Miss Worlock in a very nasty voice. She turned, and called over to where Uncle Wilf’s big black van was parked on the edge of the quarry. “Let it go!” she shrieked.
The van began to roll forward. The driver’s door opened, and Uncle Wilf jumped out. “Good riddance to all stoopid wizards!” he shouted, giving the van an extra push as it rolled past him, over the edge of the quarry.
7. Hamish in the swim
Everyone gasped in horror – and then cheered – because the van, after starting to fall down into the quarry, had suddenly risen up in the air. “It’s flying!” said Thomas to Jody.
“I know it is,” said Jody. “Ssh! I need to concentrate.”
Wilhelmina and Uncle Wilf looked at each other in horror. Then they began to run. The van had turned round and was coming straight at them. They ran and ran – they ran right over the edge of the quarry.
But they didn’t fall. They turned into huge black geese, flapped their wings, and flew away till they were out of sight. Everyone cheered again as the van came to rest on the ground at the edge of the quarry. Then the back door opened, and out stepped Mr Majeika. His legs weren’t in plaster. He was perfectly all right again.
“You’re cured, Mr Majeika!” said Thomas. “That’s wonderful. Did you remember the spell?”
“Yes,” said Mr Majeika. “I did. When I realized the van was flying, and that I wasn’t going to crash down into the bottom of the quarry, I was so happy that the words of the spell to mend my legs came back to me.”
“Do you mean it wasn’t you, Mr Majeika, who made the van fly?” asked Melanie.
“No, Melanie,” answered Mr Majeika. “When I was kidnapped by Wilhelmina and that wicked brother of hers – yes, he was really her brother, Wilfred Worlock, a very wicked wizard, and not Hamish’s uncle at all – they cast a spell to stop me doing my own spells. But when someone else made the van fly by magic, that broke their spell. I wonder who it was?”
Thomas turned to Jody. “It was you, Jody, wasn’t it?” he said.
Jody nodded. “I suddenly thought that I could do it,” she said. “And it worked!”
“Well, Jody, you’ve saved my life.” said Mr Majeika. “So the least I can do in return is to mend your legs.” He
muttered a spell, the plaster dropped off Jody’s legs and she jumped to her feet. “Hooray!” she shouted.
“But where’s Hamish?” said Thomas. They all looked around. “There he is!” shouted Pandora. “He’s running off down that lane, past the sign which says TO THE CANAL.”
“Get him, Jody,” said Thomas. “Like you got Miss Worlock and Uncle Wilf.” Jody shut her eyes and muttered the spell which had made the van fly. It rose up in the air and began to chase Hamish Bigmore down the lane. Everyone heard a splash.
When they got to the canal, Hamish was floundering about in it, waving his arms and legs wildly. “Help!” he shouted. “I can’t swim!”
“Told you so,” said Jody.
“I think it’s time he had lessons,” said Pete, who had been untied from his tree. “Don’t you, Mr Majeika?”
“Yes,” said Mr Majeika. “And I know who can teach him. We’ll be needing another school caretaker now, so let’s ask Mr Jenks to stop being retired and come back to St Barty’s. And when he’s not caretaking, he can give Hamish swimming lessons. Would you like blue waterwings, Hamish? Or do you prefer pink?”
Hamish opened his mouth to make a rude reply, but all that came out was a great deal of canal water.
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Mr Majeika and the School Caretaker Page 3
