“Go!” shouted Mr Majeika, and the two of them ran and jumped.
They both crashed straight into the bar – and suddenly, out of nowhere (because Mr Majeika had waved his hands again), there was a bucket of water on top of the bar, which tipped all over Hamish and Miss Worlock.
“Right!” yelled Miss Worlock. “I’m not just going to turn you into a toad, Majeika. I’m going to make you into scrambled egg
and have you for breakfast. I’m going to –”
“I’ve got a better suggestion, Wilhelmina,” interrupted Mr Majeika. “Why not throw that discus at me? It ought to knock me for six – except that you’re not strong enough to chuck it even a few inches.” He pointed to a heavy, round discus that Miss Worlock had brought with her to the Sports Day.
“If it hits you, it’ll hurt you badly, Mr Majeika,” said Thomas anxiously.
“Ssh,” whispered Mr Majeika.
“Not strong enough, eh?” roared Miss Worlock. “I’ll show you, you little wimp of a wizard. I’ll chuck that discus so hard, it’ll knock you into the twenty-second century. Just watch!” And she picked up the discus.
“If you were a really powerful witch,” said Mr Majeika, “you’d spin round and round before throwing it, to make it fly at about a hundred miles an hour. But you wouldn’t be able to do that.”
“Oh, wouldn’t I?” sneered Miss Worlock. “You just watch!” And she began to spin round, faster and faster. “Here it comes,” she called.
But Mr Majeika had waved his hands,
and something seemed to be wrong with Wilhelmina Worlock. The discus did not leave her hand, but it seemed to be stuck to her. And she was turning faster and faster, until she became just a blur.
Suddenly there was a roaring sound.
She had spun so fast that she had drilled a hole in the ground, which was opening up beneath her. She gave a shriek of rage – “I’ll get you, Majeika!” – but there was nothing she could do to save herself. In a moment, she had vanished, and there was silence.
Everyone crowded round the hole and
looked into it. “It goes a long way down, Mr Majeika,” said Jody.
“Yes,” said Mr Majeika, “probably as far as Australia. We shan’t be seeing her again for some time, I think. She can find herself a job training Australians for the Olympic Games. As for you, Hamish Bigmore, when you’ve washed off that mud, you’d better do some press-ups. The only gold medal you’d stand any chance of winning looking like that would be for chocolate-eating.”
2. Story Time
Each term, a different class at St Barty’s took it in turns to look after the school library. Last term it had been Class Four, and they had left everything very tidy. All the books were in the right place, and the cards which showed who had borrowed what had been neatly filled in. They had made the library look bright and cheerful by putting up posters of famous authors.
This term it was Class Three’s turn. Mr Majeika organized a rota, so that groups of four people at a time were on library duty for a week. Being on library duty meant that you had to check that all the books were returned on time by the people who had borrowed them. You also had to keep everything neat and orderly.
Thomas, Pete and Jody were put on library duty with Hamish Bigmore. “That’s not fair, Mr Majeika,” said Thomas. “You know what Hamish is like. He’ll muck everything up.”
Mr Majeika sighed. “He’s got to be in somebody’s group,” he said, “and you
three are tough enough to stand up to him.”
Pete and Thomas were rather flattered by this, but Jody said, “It’s no use being tough. What we need with Hamish is eyes in the back of our heads. The moment we turn our backs, he’ll be up to something.”
As it happened, the week in which Thomas, Pete, Jody and Hamish were on library duty was going to be rather a special one. St Barty’s was holding a Book Week, and on the last day a children’s author was coming to St Barty’s to talk to the school. Her name was Penelope Primrose, and she was well known for her picture books for very young children. They were about a rabbit called Little Bluebell.
“Yuck,” said Pete, when he heard that she was coming to St Barty’s. “Why do we have to have her?”
“Never mind,” said Mr Majeika. “I’m sure it will be very interesting to hear how books are made. Now, mind you keep the library nice and tidy all week, but especially on Friday, when Penelope Primrose is visiting.”
All week long, Thomas, Pete and Jody put away books, filled out borrowers’ cards, straightened chairs and tables, and made sure there were displays of books for everyone to see. Much to their surprise, Hamish Bigmore actually helped them, with a friendly smile on his face.
At first, Thomas was suspicious. “Hamish must be up to something,” he said. “It’s just not like him to do a job like this without complaining.”
“I agree,” said Pete. “There’s definitely some trickery up Hamish’s sleeve.”
But Jody said, “I wish people would give Hamish a chance. People always expect him to behave badly, so of course he does. If someone encouraged him for a change, he might become a reformed character. Well done, Hamish!” she called out to Hamish, who had got some polish and a duster from one of the cleaning ladies, and was polishing a table
“Thank you, Jody,” said Hamish. “I’m glad there’s someone who doesn’t always think the worst of me.”
“There you are,” whispered Jody to Thomas and Pete. “What did I tell you? You’ve been hurting his feelings with all your remarks. Can’t you see that, for once, he’s really trying his best?”
Shamefaced, Thomas and Pete got on with their work.
On Friday morning, the day of Penelope Primrose’s visit, the library was looking spick and span. There were vases of flowers on the tables, and a big poster of Penelope Primrose had been put up. All
her books were displayed on a table. She was going to come and talk to Class Three at the end of the morning. Her talks to the other classes would be given in their own classrooms, but she had said she wanted to see the school library, and as Class Three were on library duty, it was decided that she should meet them in the library itself.
At the beginning of the mid-morning break, Jody popped into the library to make sure everything was ready. It all looked very nice. When the bell rang, she went to Class Three’s classroom for the lesson before Penelope Primrose’s talk.
“Where’s Hamish Bigmore?” asked Mr Majeika when the lesson began.
“He said he was feeling sick, Mr Majeika,” said Pandora. “He’s gone to lie down in the medical room.”
It crossed Jody’s mind that, as the medical room was next door to the library, it would be really easy for Hamish Bigmore to get up to mischief and spoil all their preparations for Penelope Primrose’s visit. But she felt that, after all she had been saying to Thomas and Pete about how they should trust Hamish, she shouldn’t be expecting the worst of him like this.
When the bell rang for the end of the lesson, Mr Majeika said, “Now, will you all please go to the library, and I’ll go and fetch Penelope Primrose and take her there to meet you.” So off they all trooped.
Mr Majeika went to the staff room, where Penelope Primrose was drinking a glass of orange juice and talking to Mr Potter. “How do you do?” she said to Mr Majeika. “I told Mr Potter that I never drink
strong grown-up drinks like coffee or tea. I’m just a little girlie at heart, and I like a little glass of milkie and a chockie bickie, or a little squeezie of orange juice. Oh, I have had such a sweet time this morning with all the little tiny tots. They do love my bookies! And have you got more little babes for me to meet, Mr Majeika?”
“Er, yes,” said Mr Majeika, wondering what Class Three would make of Penelope Primrose. “Come this way, please.” And he led her to the school library.
There seemed to be some sort of disturbance going on. Mr Majeika could hear Jody shouting at Hamish. But when he opened the door and took Penelope Primrose in, there was
a sudden hush. “Here we are, everyone,” he said. “Here’s Penelope Primrose to talk to you.” He led her to a chair beside the table which was piled with her books.
“Hello, kiddie-widdies,” said Penelope Primrose, sitting down. There was no reply. Class Three were stuffing handkerchiefs into their mouths and trying not to laugh. Mr Majeika looked round the library, puzzled. Then he saw that
Penelope Primrose was sitting just beneath a poster of herself, on which someone had drawn a big beard and moustache.
“Hamish Bigmore –” began Mr Majeika. But Penelope Primrose, not noticing that anything was wrong, had begun her talk.
“Now, my little dearies,” she was saying, “I’m going to tell you all how my little bookie-wookies are made – these little bookie-wookies here.” And she pointed at the display of her books on the table beside her.
At this, a roar of laughter broke out from Class Three. Mr Majeika looked at the books. Somebody had been altering the covers. The titles were supposed to be: We All Love Little Bluebell, Little Bluebell Goes Shopping, Little Bluebell Meets the Firemen, and Little Bluebell in the Post Office. Someone had used felt pens to change them to: We All Hate Little Bluebell, Little Bluebell Goes Stark-raving Mad, Little Bluebell Meets Frankenstein, and Little Bluebell Gets Locked in the Loo.
Penelope Primrose had seen the books, and was looking quite white in the face.
“Such wicked little tots!” she gasped. “I feel quite faint. I must have a sniff of these flowers to make myself better.” She thrust her nose into the bunch of flowers in the vase in front of her – and then gave a shriek, because tucked in with the flowers were several large stinging-nettles.
“Hamish Bigmore!” roared Mr Majeika. “I know this is your doing!” Everyone looked round to see what Hamish would say. But he was nowhere to be seen. As Mr Majeika had shouted his name, there had been a flash of light, and Hamish had vanished.
“I didn’t mean to make him disappear,” said Mr Majeika, half an hour later, after Penelope Primrose had been soothed and sent away in a taxi (she said she would never go to another School Book Week again).
“You never mean to make him disappear, Mr Majeika,” said Pete. “But it keeps happening.”
This was true. During his first term at St Barty’s, Mr Majeika had accidentally turned Hamish Bigmore into a frog. Another time, losing his temper with Hamish, he had sent him magically into a television set.
“I’ll run and check the fish tank,” said Jody, “just in case he’s become a frog again. And Thomas, you turn on the TV and try that, just in case.” But there were no frogs in the fish tank, and no sign of Hamish in the television programmes.
“He’ll turn up,” said Pete. “He always does, more’s the pity. Let’s get these books tidied away, Mr Majeika, and I’m sure he’ll be back before the end of afternoon school.”
“All right,” said Mr Majeika, though he looked worried.
“I’ll try and wipe the felt pen off the covers of Penelope Primrose’s books,” said Thomas. “I wonder if Hamish has drawn things inside them too.” He opened one of the books. “No, it looks all right – no felt-pen scribbles. Hey, wait a minute, what’s this? I don’t believe it. Come and see.”
Class Three and Mr Majeika gathered round, and Thomas held up the book. It was We All Love Little Bluebell, and he had opened it at a page which had a picture of Little Bluebell talking to two other little rabbits. Except she wasn’t just talking to two other little rabbits. She was talking to two other little rabbits and Hamish Bigmore.
“That’s Hamish – I’d know him anywhere, even in a drawing by Penelope Primrose,” said Thomas.
“Try the rest of the book,” said Jody. “See if he’s in any of the other pictures.”
Thomas turned the pages. Sure enough, wherever there were pictures, Hamish was in them. He was dancing hand in hand through the woods with Bluebell and her rabbit friends, helping them to bake fairy-cakes, and putting up Christmas decorations in Little Bluebell’s cottage. He looked absolutely furious at being there.
“Poor old Hamish,” laughed Pete. “And what about the words? Let’s see if he’s got into them too.”
He had. This is how We All Love Little Bluebell now began: “Once upon a time there was a pretty little rabbit called Little Bluebell. She lived in pretty little house in a pretty little wood, and she had three nice little friends called Little Snowdrop, Little Buttercup and Little Hamish.”
“I bet he’s loving every minute of it,” giggled Thomas. “Do you think he’s in the other Little Bluebell books too?”
He was. As they turned the pages, there was Little Hamish going shopping with Little Bluebell and the others, playing at fire-engines and postmen, and having a sweet little time.
“Do leave him there, Mr Majeika,” said Pete. “You can send his mum and dad the Little Bluebell books, and then they’ll know he’s safe.”
“Oh, do, Mr Majeika,” said Thomas. “Just for a few days.” But Mr Majeika shook his head.
“I’ll have to fetch him out,” he said. “If I can.”
He shut his eyes and muttered some words. The Little Bluebell books began to shake and shiver, and from their pages out stepped Hamish Bigmore. And after him skipped Little Bluebell, Little Snowdrop and Little Buttercup.
“Wow,” gasped Hamish. “You’ll never guess where I’ve been.”
Little Buttercup tugged at his hand. “Little Hamish! Little Hamish!” she piped. “Come back to Bluebell Wood, because it’s
time to have fairy-cakes for tea.” She had a voice rather like Penelope Primrose.
“Naff off,” said Hamish.
“Are we going to have Little Bluebell and her friends in Class Three?” asked Jody. “Wouldn’t they be happier in the infants’ class?”
“I’ll try and get them back into the books,” said Mr Majeika. “Wait a minute – what’s going on?”
The other books on the library shelves were beginning to shake and shiver too, and other figures were starting to step from their pages. “Gosh,” said Thomas, “isn’t that Robin Hood”
“And there’s Toad, Mole, Rat and Badger,” said Jody excitedly.
From some shelves at the back of the library, where science-fiction and fantasy
were stored, came Superman, Batman, and the strange creatures from Star Wars, while a nasty smell suggested that Fungus the Bogeyman couldn’t be far away.
“Oh dear,” said Mr Majeika, “I seem to have made the spell to release Hamish too strong.”
Soon the library was packed with peculiar beings, creatures from outer space, and characters from comic books. There was the sound of breaking glass. “Watch it!” called Jody. “Hamish has teamed up with Dennis the Menace, and they’ve just smashed a window.”
“It’s fantastic, Mr Majeika,” said Pete. “You ought to ring up the television people and the newspapers. Here’s all these famous characters from the books, in real life.”
“I know,” said Mr Majeika doubtfully. “But I think there’s going to be trouble pretty soon.” Indeed, Captain Hook and several of the pirates from Peter Pan were already climbing out into the playground, intent on some mischief. Mr Toad was following them, chortling, “I spy motor cars outside! Poop poop! Just let me get my hands on them.”
“Ladies and gentlemen and, er, creatures,” called out Mr Majeika, “it’s been delightful seeing you all, but would you, please, now go back into your books?”
There was a general muttering at this, and then a shout of “No we won’t!”
“You can’t blame them,” said Thomas. “It must be very boring, being in the same book year after year, and going through the same adventures every time someone reads it.”
“Well, I can’t help that,” said Mr Majeika anxiously. “They’ve got to get back on the pages at once, otherwise there may be awful trouble.”
At that moment, Mr Potter opened the door of the library, peered inside at the strange collection of figures, and said, “Ah, Majeika, having a Par
ents’ Morning, I see.” He closed the door and went.
“It’s lucky he didn’t notice anything,” said Pete. “If you can’t persuade them to go back into the books, Mr Majeika, perhaps you can do it with a spell?”
“I’ll try,” said Mr Majeika, and shut his eyes.
“Poor things,” said Thomas. “They haven’t had much of a holiday. If they had any sense, they’d go back into different books.”
Mr Majeika had begun to mutter to himself, and the room was growing dark and the books on the shelves were starting to shake again. But several of the book characters had heard Thomas. “What a good idea,” called out Robin Hood. “Come on, Batman, why don’t you and I do a swap?” And soon the library was loud with cries of “I’ll have your book and you have mine,” and “Get out of the way – it’s my turn in this one,” as two different characters fought to get into the same book.
At last it grew quiet, and the room became light again. Jody breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s all right then, Mr Majeika,” she said.
Mr Majeika opened his eyes. “I hope so,” he said.
“They’ve certainly all gone,” said Pete. “But let’s check everything’s OK.” He took one of the books off the shelf.
It was Alice in Wonderland, and he opened it at the page which ought to show
Alice talking to the White Rabbit. But instead of the White Rabbit, the picture showed one of the creatures from Star Wars.
“There’s something wrong with the words, too,” said Jody, looking over Pete’s shoulder. “Alice’s name has disappeared, and it’s all about robots and things.”
“And look at this,” said Thomas, taking another book off the shelf. “It’s Black Beauty, but a whole lot of characters from the Beano annual have got into the words and pictures.”
Mr Majeika and the School Book Week Page 2
