by Gwen Lowe
‘Portland’s very clever,’ replied Kevin cheerfully, pointing at Alice. She glared at him, but the teacher just smiled.
‘Well, we’ll soon see about that. Right everyone, put out the hand you don’t write with.’ He picked up a thermometer and slid it into the pot, checking the reading.
‘OK, dip your hand in the cauldron all of you Averages; it’s cool enough now.’
Chloe stepped forward and thrust her hand into the tarry liquid. When she pulled her hand out it was coated in thick black goo.
‘You too, Maggott – hurry up!’
Alice reached in. The gloopy mixture was warm and smelt of liquorice. It felt nice against her fingers; she was never allowed to get her hands dirty normally.
‘That’s permanent stain mixture,’ explained Mr Pye. ‘Nothing will get it off except a super-duper stain remover. You need to make one in this morning’s lesson if you want clean hands before you leave.’
‘But it’s hand inspection before lunch!’ said Chloe, her eyes wide. ‘We’ll be in so much trouble!’
Mr Pye laughed. ‘I know – fun isn’t it! Nothing makes a lesson pass more quickly than a bit of real life danger, don’t you think? Now, as usual, I’m trusting you to get on quietly without me. There are recipes for different stain removers on these work-sheets. One of them will work, but you haven’t got time to try them all so choose well. You can use any ingredient . . .’ he waved his arms towards the cupboards around the walls.
‘Come on,’ said Chloe, grabbing a handful of worksheets and towing Alice back to their stove. ‘We’ve got a lot to do and not much time.’
Alice looked at the sheet curiously. There were five different lists of ingredients, all with instructions like in a cookbook.
‘Want to work together?’ asked Oscar. ‘We could do one each.’
‘Yes, if we double the quantities then there should be enough for all five of us,’ said Chloe.
‘There’s six of . . .’ Alice tailed off, noticing that Jago’s hands were still impeccibly clean.
‘Don’t worry about me,’ he reassured her. ‘I’m doing Gleaming Genius work. I have to invent a potion that kills nits but is harmless to pupils when they drink it. Mrs Peasley’s planning to try it out tomorrow.’
‘But . . . you could kill us all!’
‘Precisely, so don’t interrupt me – I need to concentrate.’
Nevertheless, Jago couldn’t resist checking over Alice and Kevin’s work and telling them exactly what to do. Secretly, Alice was glad about this; making a good concoction was a lot harder than it seemed.
At last, two hours later, everyone was finished.
‘OK, they’re cool enough, let’s try them,’ said Emerald, dubiously eyeing the steaming liquids.
They heaved their pots on to the middle work bench. Chloe’s and Kevin’s mixtures were thick and brown, one toffee-scented, the other smelling of trainers. Emerald’s was watery green and Oscar’s fizzed slightly.
‘On the count of three then,’ instructed Jago, peering into their pots with interest ‘One . . . two . . . THREE!’
Each of them plunged their hands into their own pot. Alice gave her yellow sludge a good stir, but wasn’t surprised to see that the black crust was still there when she pulled her hand out. Chloe, Emerald, and Kevin were looking disappointed too, but Oscar stared unbelievingly at his sparkling pink hand.
‘Way to go, Os!’ cheered Kevin as they all crowded around his pot.
‘Well well,’ said Mr Pye, reappearing just as the bell clanged. ‘Looks like you Averages might survive hand inspection after all.’
At lunch, Alice was so busy thinking that she didn’t even notice she was eating frozen turnips. How long would it be before someone noticed her animal problem or that she couldn’t stop giggling? Thank goodness her cold had finally cleared up, but how long did she have before anyone realized that Portland Maggott didn’t exist?
She could feel Nibbles rooting around in her pocket. How on earth could she keep him hidden? And there was the Pirus. How did that fit in?
Up to now Alice had tried not to think about the Pirus or the Best Minister, but she had a horrible feeling that she was in terrible and growing danger. And what if the Best Minister sent another Red Alert? This time she wouldn’t be there to stop it getting to Miss Grammaticus. She was really scared now; things were getting rapidly worse and she didn’t know what to do.
‘You OK, Portland?’ asked Chloe.
Alice made up her mind. She couldn’t deal with this on her own. She needed help, fast. As everyone else got up to clear tables, she pulled Kevin, Chloe and Jago aside.
‘Listen,’ she said. ‘I’ve got something tell you. My name’s not really Portland Maggott.’
Kevin, Chloe and Jago gawped at Alice.
‘What do yer mean yer not Portland Maggott?’ asked Kevin, looking bewildered.
‘Shhh!’ Alice hissed. ‘Can we talk somewhere private?’
Jago turned to Chloe. ‘What do you think?’ he asked her.
‘Let’s take them to the Dusty Side,’ said Chloe mysteriously.
‘You think we can trust them with that?’
‘Of course yer can!’ said Kevin indignantly as Chloe nodded.
‘OK, we just need to distract Mr Ricard— hey!’
Jago ducked – Kevin had flipped a frozen sprout into the middle of the Dunces, triggering a hail of leftover potatoes back in retaliation.
‘That’ll keep him busy,’ exclaimed Kevin, watching Mr Ricard and the Perfect Poppets sprint down the hall toward the shrieking Dunces.
‘Good enough,’ acknowledged Jago, as they slipped out unnoticed.
When they reached the deserted entrance hall, Jago stopped in front of the giant fireplace and peeled back one corner of the plastic sheeting that sealed the opening.
He pointed up the chimney.
‘It’s up there.’
Alice and Kevin looked at each other.
‘Yer joking, right?’
‘No he’s not – look, I’ll show you.’ Chloe stepped into the fireplace, lifted her arms and disappeared upwards.
‘Your turn,’ said Jago. ‘I’ll go last.’
‘OK.’ Kevin ducked inside the chimney and started climbing, Alice following him nervously. Inside the fireplace were lots of overlapping broad shelves leading upwards, like a ladder for giant snakes.
‘It’s just like soft-play,’ Kevin said happily. ‘Used ter take the babies all the time with me mum.’
‘See – told you it was easy,’ said Chloe, as they reached the top. She shook dust out of her red-brown plaits.
‘Where are we?’ asked Alice, climbing out of the chimney through a door in a smaller fireplace. The door was labelled with the words ‘Fire Exit’.
Chloe grinned. ‘Welcome to the Dusty Side!’
Alice looked around. The huge room was lined with a jumble of books on shelves that stretched from the ceiling to the floor. A wooden balcony ran around the room, reached by a stout ladder. But in among the shelves were dozens of doors, some narrow and tall, others square and small. A few were round or odd shaped. Every door was labelled.
She read the nearest.
Kitchen . . . Maze . . . The Windy Gap . . . Tree-house . . . Secret Tower. . . Foxhole . . . Spiral Corridor . . . The Bog . . . Way for the Warrior . . .
‘Hey, some of these labels are like them signs on the blocked-off corridors!’ Kevin exclaimed excitedly.
‘What is this place?’ asked Alice.
‘The old library,’ explained Jago. ‘You can get to anywhere from here. Miss Grammaticus doesn’t know anything about it. There’s no regular door in, so she’s never found it.’
‘Most of the others don’t know about it either,’ Chloe added. She and Jago lounged on two big blue sofas, watching Alice and Kevin explore. ‘Professor Tryton built two libraries; a big one downstairs and this one as a secret that only children who really wanted adventure or to escape would find. It’s a good thing he did; Mi
ss Grammaticus burnt all the books in the other library. She said they were germ carriers, spreading bugs from pupil to pupil.’
‘Is that why we don’t have textbooks?’ asked Alice, who had thought this odd.
‘Precisely,’ said Jago.
‘I bet it were a laugh here before Miss Grammaticus,’ said Kevin, still browsing the mysterious doors set between the shelves.
‘It was brilliant,’ Chloe told him, smiling at the memory.
‘When did she come?’
‘About nine months ago. Professor Tryton was in charge before then, he was great.’
‘Where’s he gone?’
‘He disappeared the same night Miss Grammaticus arrived. He refused to let her in, but then all these men came in long black cars and battered the door down. They tried to grab him, but he fought them off and escaped through the maze. We saw the whole thing through the dormitory windows – Miss Grammaticus was furious,’ Chloe smiled at the memory. ‘When we came down the next morning she’d already made herself headmistress. She put us in this uniform and started perfect pupil classes straight away.’
‘Don’t you have inspections and stuff ? Are they happy with all this?’ asked Alice.
‘They love it,’ said Chloe gloomily. ‘And the staff don’t care. Miss Grammaticus got rid of Professor Tryton’s teachers and hired her own.’
‘Except Mr Pye,’ said Jago.
‘Yeah, like he’s going to stand up to Miss Grammaticus,’ Kevin snorted.
‘They’re all so horrible,’ said Alice. ‘They’re like big bullies.’
‘They’re not happy,’ said Chloe. ‘Bullies are never happy. Have you ever seen Miss Grammaticus smile?’
‘Look!’ exclaimed Kevin, opening the Foxhole door. A steel ladder disappeared downwards into blackness. He tried the next, labelled Sick Bay. This had a steep-sided slide covered in thick cobwebs.
‘One way trip only I guess,’ said Alice, as they peered in.
Unlike the rest of Tryton Mell, there was dust on the bookshelves. The room had a warm, cosy feel, with its faded red and black carpet and big wooden tables.
‘We’re safe here,’ said Chloe. ‘Now sit down and tell us everything.’
Alice threw herself on to a sofa and looked at the others. Chloe was flushed pink, her plaits undone, but Jago was still neat, his black hair firmly in place. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on him. Kevin looked like he’d been swimming in dust.
She took a deep breath. Jago and Chloe had trusted her with their secret. She had to trust them with hers.
‘Well, I got this nasty cold . . .’ she began.
Alice told them everything that had happened, beginning with being locked in her bedroom. She told them about having to escape, the police capturing her and the papers she’d taken from Mrs Peasley’s office. She took out the Best Minister’s letter and Red Alert from their hiding place in her blazer lining.
The others listened in stunned silence, passing the paper sheets to each other like they were bombs about to explode.
And as they gazed at her in shock, Nibbles chose that moment to shift in his nest.
‘Your . . . your blazer’s moving,’ said Chloe faintly.
‘Yeah . . . that’s another thing.’ Alice dug Nibbles out of her pocket and put him on the table.
‘What the . . ?’ Chloe moved hastily backwards.
The mouse stared at them, sitting on his hind legs and washing his face. He then strolled back to Alice and rolled over, pawing at her to tickle his tummy.
Chloe was the first to break the silence. ‘What on earth’s going on? First Precious, now this. And Henry said he couldn’t get the rats off you in Pest Control. Are you some sort of animal magnet?’
Alice looked at her with frightened eyes. ‘I don’t know what’s happening. I love animals, but this . . . this thing’s never happened to me before – they seem to stick to me like glue now. I can’t get rid of Nibbles, he keeps coming back.’ Alice stroked his back gently. ‘I do like him, but I’ll be in serious trouble if anyone spots him.’
‘Fizzing footballs! What’s going on?’ exclaimed Kevin, bewildered.
Jago was still scrutinizing the Best Minister’s letter.
‘I think this Pirus might be the key to everything. I wonder what it does?’
‘Are yer going to die?’ Kevin asked, inspecting Alice with interest.
‘Shut up, Kevin,’ Chloe ordered.
‘If I do,’ countered Alice, ‘you’ll be next. If it’s infectious, you lot might already have it.’
‘Wouldn’t we be ill now though?’ asked Chloe. ‘I feel fine but you had a runny nose and cough when you first came. I’m surprised Mrs Peasley didn’t notice you sneezing. Wouldn’t I have a cold by now if that was the Pirus?’
‘Not yet maybe.’ Jago looked Alice up and down. Alice was beginning to feel like she was in the zoo. ‘It depends how long the incubation period is.’
‘Hold it – what the heck is that?’ asked Kevin.
‘The time it takes from picking up a germ to the time it makes you ill. It’s a few days for a common cold, but two to three weeks for chickenpox and it can be months for some infections.’
‘Yer mean we might already be brewing this Pirus but not show it?’ Kevin looked horrified.
‘And we don’t have any idea how long this . . . this . . . incubation is?’ Chloe added.
‘Exactly,’ said Jago.
‘It might be a mistake,’ said Alice hopefully. ‘I feel fine now – maybe I just had a cold that went on for ages. You can get false results on tests sometimes, can’t you?’
There was silence for quite a while as the others thought hard. Then Jago and Chloe exchanged looks.
‘Is she really telling us the truth?’ Jago asked, ignoring Alice.
Chloe nodded. ‘I’m sure she is.’
‘Well thanks very much!’ said Alice indignantly. ‘Anyway, forget being infectious – it’s the Best Minster for Everything Nicely Perfect that’s really freaking me out. What does he want with me? I wish I knew more about him.’
‘He’s always on telly, wearing black,’ said Kevin, ‘standing next to the Prime Minister . . .’
‘That’s no help, I don’t have a TV or radio. Mum thinks static electricity attracts germs,’ Alice told him.
‘The newspapers say the Best Minister insists something terrible will happen if people don’t follow his new rules,’ Jago explained. ‘I wonder if it might be this Pirus – I’ve not heard of it before. It would explain why he’s so obsessed with germs and making sure that everyone’s clean.’
‘But why’s he clamping down on laughing and giggling as well?’ asked Alice. ‘What’s that got to do with this Pirus? What’s wrong with being happy?’
Jago shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t know. All I know is that he puts his mark on everything that follows his new rules. Tryton Mell’s officially approved by him; that’s why we wear his badge.’ Jago pointed to the shield on Alice’s blazer.
‘I guessed that,’ Alice said, an icy trickle sliding down her spine. For days she’d been trying not to think about it, but now Jago had reminded her again.
‘Yeah, so what’s it matter if he’s involved?’ Kevin asked Jago.
‘The Best Minister’s very dangerous,’ continued Jago quietly. ‘You’re in deep trouble if he’s after you. Last winter he got cross with some school children dropping litter in Trafalgar Square. They’re still lost in the Sahara desert.’
‘I don’t want to end up in a desert – I get bad sunburn if I even see the sun!’ Alice protested.
‘I think it’ll be something far worse,’ said Jago. ‘This letter suggests he’s really out to get you. My uncle met the Best Minister once. When he came back he was shaking all over and I heard him tell my dad that the Best Minister’s the most evil man he’s ever met.’
‘Jago – that’s not helpful.’ Chloe frowned at him.
‘I’ve got to find out exactly what’s going on.’ Alice was really ups
et now. ‘If the Pirus doesn’t kill me first it sounds like the Best Minister will find me and kill me instead. I can’t hide for much longer.’
She stopped, choking back tears. Nibbles licked her finger, just like a dog. Strangely comforted by this, Alice cradled him gently in her hand.
Chloe was reading the letter again. ‘It says here there’s an antidote to the Pirus. Perhaps if you took that . . .’
Alice stared at her. ‘The Pirus antidote – I’d forgotten about that! That would solve everything! But how can I find it, I wouldn’t know where to start . . . even the Best Minister’s struggling . . .’
‘Let’s make a list of what you need to do,’ said Jago. ‘That always helps.’
He pulled out his notebook. Alice watched as he wrote in perfect handwriting:
1. Find out about the Pirus
2. Hide from the Best Minister for Everything Nicely Perfect
3. Find the antidote
‘Anything else?’ Jago clipped the top back on his pen. They were all concentrating so hard on Jago’s list that it was surprising that it didn’t burst into flames.
‘It’s difficult when we don’t know anything about this Pirus,’ Chloe pointed out.
‘Can’t we look it up in them books?’ asked Kevin. ‘Or on a computer?’
‘Miss Grammaticus smashed all the computers,’ Chloe told him. ‘She reckons touch screens and keyboards are germ factories. The only computer left is in Mrs Peasley’s office.’
Alice shook her head. ‘It’ll be useless to do a search on Pirus; the Best Minister’s bound to have blocked anything about it.’
‘Yeah, or he’ll trace it as coming from here and start investigating,’ added Chloe, her eyes wide.
‘I agree. Then there’s only one way forward,’ said Jago. ‘We need to find a Public Health doctor.’
The others stared at him in bewilderment.
‘What’s one of them?’ asked Kevin.
‘Public Health stops horrible infections spreading between people. They came to our school last year because all the prefects suddenly got terrible rashes. I asked the doctors and nurses loads of questions and they told me how Public Health investigates odd things, so they’re bound to know about the Pirus,’ Jago explained. ‘I suggest we break out, track down the nearest Public Health doctor and make them tell us what’s going on.’
