The Phredde Collection

by Jackie French

  ‘I’ve been a frog every since I was a tadpole,’ whispered Bruce. ‘I can’t change back now! Maybe for an hour or two, okay…but not all the time I’m at school.’

  ‘But if you don’t you’re off the footy team!’ cried Phredde. ‘You’re our star player.’

  ‘I’m only the star player because I can jump higher than anyone else,’ muttered Bruce. ‘And zap the ball halfway across the oval with my tongue. If I’m not a frog I won’t be anyone’s star player. I’ll just be…’ his voice broke off.

  I didn’t know whether to feel sorry for him, or angry with him. So I was both. Which meant I forgot I wasn’t talking to him because being two things at once takes up a lot of your brain.

  ‘Cheer up,’ I said. ‘Maybe the Batrock kids will vampirise the whole school and we won’t get to play football at all.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Bruce emptily. ‘I think.’

  And then the hippopotamuses roared and it was time to go back to class.

  Nothing happened that afternoon. No ogres attacked, no Ancient Egyptian princess threw me into a pit of vipers. The blackboard didn’t turn into a blob of alien, kid-sucking jelly. We learnt the basics of trigonometry and Bruce swatted a few silverfish that had been dumb enough to hide in our textbooks—boy, can that tongue STRETCH—but I wasn’t interested in what Bruce did so I paid no attention at all, not even when he zapped a blowfly that landed on my pen.

  We were all pretty quiet that afternoon. I guess the news that your school is about to be invaded by blood-sucking vampires has that effect. Even the arrival of the pizzas didn’t cheer us up much. Mrs Olsen kept muttering things like ‘How could he do it?’ and ‘Blood, blood! There will be blood everywhere! You’ll find the answers at the back of the book, Amelia. Blood!’

  Finally the hippos roared again and it was time to go.

  Cuddles was waiting for me in the castle moat when I got home. The piranhas looked glad to see me too. Their little toothy faces had a sort of hunted look.

  ‘Quack,’ said Cuddles, clambering out of the moat and showering me with dirty moat water and a few piranha tails.

  ‘Yeah, I’m glad I’m home too,’ I told her. And I was.

  It had been a confusing sort of day. A new head teacher is bad enough, but what with a vampire sports day, not to mention the Halloween dance and Bru…other things, I was feeling pretty bushed.

  I fed Cuddles her bag of doggie food (she’d quacked really loudly when she saw the ad for it on TV so I decided that she must like doggie biscuits. Mark reckons she actually wanted to eat the pack dogs that were on the ad going yum, yum, slobber, slobber by their bowls of doggie biscuits. That’s werewolf brothers for you. Mark just has to SEE a corgi and he starts drooling).

  ‘Quack,’ said Cuddles, pulling the bag out of my hands and eating that too, just as Mum came in.

  ‘How was school?’ Mum asked. (Adults are programmed to ask that question, if you ask me. I bet as soon as you turn twenty-one they slap a hi-tech computer thingie on your head that zaps your brain and pre-programs you to ask any person under eighteen How was school? as soon as you see them. You just count how many times some adult asks you that this week; then you’ll see I’m right.)

  I gulped. How was I going to tell Mum that I’d accidentally volunteered us to billet a blood-crazed vampire that hunts its prey?

  ‘Er, Mum,’ I said.

  ‘Mmm? Gark is doing roast gryphon for dinner. Do you want mashed potatoes or baked potatoes?’

  ‘Both,’ I said. I like potatoes. I like roast gryphon too. Phredde’s mum sends one over sometimes—they get a couple delivered fresh from Phaeryland every week. Phredde’s mum says the frozen gryphons you buy in the supermarket these days have no taste at all. ‘Er, Mum, I said we’d billet this kid on Thursday night.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll tell Gark to make up the Very Orange Bedroom,’ said Mum. ‘Gark was going to do pizzas Thursday night. I don’t suppose you know if this kid is vegetarian? Gark can do a very nice eggplant and artichoke pizza.’

  ‘I’m pretty sure this kid won’t be vegetarian,’ I said honestly. ‘There’s a dance at school on Friday night. A Halloween dance. Er, I can go, can’t I?’

  For one wonderful second I thought Mum might say, ‘No, I’m sorry, Prudence, we have to go and visit Great Aunt Agatha that night.’ Not that I have a Great Aunt Agatha. But maybe there was one hanging around that I didn’t know about.

  But Mum just said vaguely, ‘Yes, of course. I’ll go and tell Gark about the potatoes,’ and wandered off.

  I could have told her, of course. I could have said, Hey, don’t worry, Mum, I bet this kid’ll eat anything that’s going. Or sitting at the dining table. Or breathing. And Gark won’t have to worry about pizza because we’ll all be vampirised! But mums stress-out over the smallest little thing. I think it’s a thing that happens when you start to get old, like over thirty or something.

  So I said nothing. Nothing at all.

  Chapter 11

  Preparing for the Bloodsuckers!

  The rest of the week was spent eating our pizza and free ice blocks, decorating the school hall with black and orange Halloween streamers, making papier-mâché pumpkin lanterns, training hard, and getting ready for the dance. Oh, yeah, there was a bit of school work in there too. But the REAL stuff was on the oval.

  ‘One-two, one-two,’ yelled Mrs Olsen from the sidelines. She’d taken over as footy coach. She didn’t know much about football but, like she said, she knew a heck of a lot about vampires. ‘One-two, one-two, pick your feet up everybody…’

  ‘But, Mrs Olsen, my feet are already off the ground,’ objected Phredde. She was flying while the rest of us were jogging. Well, except for Bruce. He was hopping instead.

  ‘Then keep those wings flapping!’ ordered Mrs Olsen. ‘Yours are going to be the only pair of wings we have on our side against all those vampire wings!’

  I stopped jogging for a minute. ‘How come the Batrock Central kids can use magic if we aren’t allowed to?’ I puffed.

  Mrs Olsen shook her head. ‘Prudence, Prudence, haven’t you learnt anything? Vampires aren’t magical creatures. A vampire can change into a bat because they’re a vampire. Vampires are no more magic than you are. Come on now! One-two, one-two!’

  I began to jog again, but slowly, because I was thinking. And puffed too, of course. If none of us were allowed to use magic, then maybe my FLOINGGGGGGGGGGG! wouldn’t save me? And Phredde couldn’t PING! either, and neither could Bruce, so if the vampires attacked we’d be helpless.

  Get a hold of yourself, Prudence, I told myself. No way were we helpless! Vampires didn’t like garlic, did they? And wooden stakes could stop them! We had lots of wooden stakes in the rose garden at home and as for garlic…

  I grinned to myself. Those vampires were going to be amazed at what we cook up in Home Economics on Thursday afternoon!

  The first step was to get the garlic.

  ‘Hey, Phredde,’ I said, ‘we’ve got to sneak out over the road!’ It was Thursday lunchtime and we’d just come out of class.

  Phredde blinked at me. ‘Why?’

  ‘I’ll explain when we get there. It’s urgent!’ I hissed.

  Phredde glanced around cautiously. ‘It’s not another zombie librarian7, is it?’ she whispered.

  I shook my head.

  ‘Or are slime monsters about to devour the school foundations?’

  ‘Nothing like that! Just hurry!’

  Phredde didn’t say another word till we were across the street. I peered back at the school, but no one seemed to have noticed we were gone.

  ‘Now what?’ asked Phredde.

  ‘PING! up a hundred kilos of invisible garlic into the Domestic Science room,’ I told her.

  Phredde stared. ‘But it’s against school rules now to PING!’

  Phaeries never break school rules. It’s just one of those things about being a phaery. ‘I know. That’s why I brought you over here. So we wouldn’t be at school.’

&n
bsp; Phredde looked at me admiringly. ‘Hey, that’s clever. But why do you want a hundred kilos of invisible garlic?’

  ‘So we can put it in everything we cook for the dance. That way we’ll all stink of garlic and no one will get vampirised!’

  ‘Brilliant!’ cried Phredde.

  PING!

  ‘It’s under the bench,’ she said. ‘I made it odourless as well as invisible. That way no one will notice it.’

  ‘Now THAT is brilliant,’ I said. ‘I would never have thought of that.’

  Phredde grinned. ‘I bet you’re wondering how we’re going to know where the invisible odourless garlic is so we can use it?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said.

  ‘No worries,’ said Phredde. ‘I just PING!ed it so that every time you or I wave our fingers like this,’ she said, as her fingers went fingle, fingle, fingle, ‘we’re adding half a cup of invisible garlic.’

  Phredde zoomed up and leapt like a butterfly on twenty-seven glasses of cola. ‘I can just see those vampires’ faces!’ she chortled. ‘Bazookered!’

  ‘Phredde…’

  ‘They’ll be sick to their stomachs!’ cried Phredde. ‘Their fangs will ache just smelling the stuff! They’ll…’

  ‘Phredde…’ I tried to cut her off. But it was too late.

  ‘You two!’ roared someone from across the road. ‘My office, now!’

  It was Mr Ploppy Bottom.

  Chapter 12

  Mr Ploppy Bottom’s Secret

  Mr Ploppy Bottom marched off across the courtyard. We trailed behind him.

  ‘Now we’re in for it,’ whispered Phredde, as we tiptoed down the corridor. ‘He’s just been waiting for an excuse to have a go at me. And you too, because you hang around with me.’

  ‘How can you say something like that?’ I asked sarcastically. ‘Mr Ploppy Bottom isn’t prejudiced. He HATES anyone who’s prejudiced. He’s a NICE man.’

  In fact just about everyone else thought he was nice too. Even Mrs Olsen—she thought he was too nice to believe bad things about vampires. But she hadn’t seen the way he looked at Phredde and Bruce.

  ‘Yeah. And I’m Arnold Schwarzenegger,’ said Phredde flexing her sultana-sized phaery muscles.

  I lifted my hand to knock on Mr Ploppy Bottom’s door. He mustn’t have shut it properly, because my knock pushed it open

  ‘What the…?’ Mr Ploppy Bottom stared at us with rage from his desk. ‘Who gave you the right to open my door!’ he yelled.

  ‘I’m sorry, sir,’ I began.

  ‘Sorry! I’ll make you sorry!’ shrieked Mr Ploppy Bottom. He leapt out of his chair and ran through the door, almost pushing us out into the corridor in his haste. He slammed the door firmly behind him.

  I glanced at Phredde. She shrugged. What on earth was the matter with him? I looked at him carefully. He wasn’t a zombie, was he? Or maybe he was a werewolf and he’d been changing and didn’t want us to see.

  But Phredde and I had had a good look at him. He’d just been sitting there, then he’d come straight out.

  And Mr Ploppy Bottom hated anyone who wasn’t human.

  But it didn’t make any sense—he’d invited a vampire school for a sports day!

  Maybe…maybe there was something in his office he didn’t want us to see! But we’d just been in and noone saw anything suspicious.

  Or had they?

  But there was no time to think now, what with Mr Ploppy Bottom glaring at us. Then suddenly his glare faded, like he’d just remembered he was a kind, sweet man with absolutely no prejudice against phaeries or friends of phaeries at all.

  The beam came back. It was a shaky beam, but it was there. ‘Now,’ he said more quietly, ‘exactly what were you two doing out of bounds at lunchtime?’

  ‘Um, um,’ said Phredde, with a helpless look at me. Phaeries are no good at all at thinking up excuses.

  ‘It was my idea, sir,’ I said truthfully. ‘You see, Phredde hasn’t got a mobile phone,’ which was true ‘and so she has to use magic to call her mum’ which was also true ‘but she can’t use magic in the school grounds,’ which was true, true, true ‘so I suggested we go over the road away from the school.’

  Mr Ploppy Bottom twitched a bit at the word magic. But at least the beam stayed in place.

  ‘And did you call your mother?’ he demanded.

  ‘No, sir,’ said Phredde.

  ‘You saw us and called us back before she could,’ I said. And I hadn’t said a word that was a lie.

  ‘Hmmm,’ said Mr Ploppy Bottom. He stared at us for a long moment. I wondered what was going through his head. Detention for twenty years?

  Then suddenly he smiled. And you know something? It was the first REAL smile I’d ever seen on Mr Ploppy Bottom’s face. It had a touch of malice and a touch of triumph and just a few drops of real anticipation, like you get when you’re about to turn your favourite TV program on and you’re imagining how much fun it’s going to be. That sort of smile.

  But why, I thought, is he smiling like that now?

  ‘Well, I’m not going to punish you,’ said Mr Ploppy Bottom. ‘You know what you’ve done wrong. No, there is no need to punish you at all.’

  It wasn’t the words. His words sounded fine, just a teacher giving a couple of kids a telling off. It was the sound of the words that chilled me; it gave me little shivers down my back. And the way he stared at us with those pale, pale eyes. And the smile, like he knew a wonderful secret and his best wish in the world was about to come true.

  ‘You can go now,’ said Mr Ploppy Bottom. ‘Don’t forget your yummy ice blocks!’ he added kindly. ‘And here, have a boiled lolly. Take two boiled lollies each!’

  So we did. And then we went.

  Chapter 13

  The Bloodsuckers Arrive

  Bruce was still a frog that afternoon. Maybe he’d decided he was going to change back to normal phaery shape just before the footy match, I thought. Or maybe he was going to drop out of the team.

  Or maybe he just hadn’t worked out what he was going to do. Not that I cared in the least.

  It was fun making the stuff for the party, with no one else knowing Phredde and I were adding a kilo of invisible, odourless garlic every time we twiddled our fingers. It was mostly dips and stuff—carrot dip and beetroot dip, which I love.

  ‘Hey,’ I whispered to Phredde as I twiddled my fingers over the beetroot. ‘What if the vampires think the beetroot dip is congealed blood and eat a bit and swallow the garlic?’

  ‘Kapow, vampires!’ giggled Phredde. She shot a quick look around then twiddled her fingers over a bottle of raspberry cordial. ‘Garlic cordial too!’ she whispered. We helped put the food in the fridge. It’d be fine there till tomorrow night. And tomorrow we’d be too busy with the sports to cook anything.

  Then suddenly school was nearly over for the day. It was time for the vampires to arrive!

  Mrs Olsen glanced at her watch just as the hippos roared.

  ‘Time to go!’ she called. ‘But would everyone who’s volunteered to take a billet please stay behind? The…’ she shuddered, ‘the Batrock team should be here soon.’ Mrs Olsen shook her head. ‘They probably stopped for a snack on the way. A snack of hot, sweet bloo…’ She saw us staring and pulled herself together. ‘Oh, he’ll rue this day,’ she added (which is grown-up speak for Someone’s going to be sorry about this!) as we headed out of the Domestic Science room. ‘But do not worry!’ she assured us dramatically. ‘I will protect you!’ She swept down the stairs with her cloak flapping at her heels.

  When we got out of class we found Mr Ploppy Bottom waiting for us in the playground. His beam shone out as soon as he saw us. ‘Not long to go now!’ he called, rubbing his hands together. ‘Another few minutes and our little visitors will be here!’

  ‘Yeah, fangs and all,’ muttered Phredde.

  ‘Mr Plothiebotham, I really think you do not realise how dangerous this is!’ protested Mrs Olsen. ‘I will of course do my best to protect everyone, but…’

>   Mr Ploppy Bottom’s beam grew so wide it looked like his face would split in half.

  ‘Now, now, no prejudice!’ he cried. ‘There is no need to be afraid of them, just because they have long white fangs and like to feed on living blood! Now, I’m afraid I must leave you! I have a meeting to attend.’ He gave what sounded like a giggle of glee. ‘Have a nice evening, won’t you?’

  I watched him march off across the playground.

  And then the bus arrived.

  There were about twenty of us poor suckers—no, sorry, THEY were the suckers—who’d volunteered for billets. We huddled together under the big oak tree at the edge of the playground as the Batrock bus trundled down the road, avoiding the pot holes and stopping politely to let a couple of kindergarteners cross. They were probably saving them for a snack tomorrow, I thought bitterly.

  It looked like an ordinary bus. You know, boring. Sometimes I think grown-ups could show a bit more imagination when they make things like buses. How about a round bus, or one with invisible steps? Or all covered with spikes? I mean that would be cool.

  But this bus was just a normal rectangular blob of a bus, pulling a trailer covered with a tarpaulin. It stopped behind the school buses.

  I stared. Phredde stared too. In fact every one of us stared.

  The bus was empty.

  Well, not empty, of course. There was a driver. They hadn’t vampirised him, probably because the bus would have run off the road. And there were seats and stuff like that.

  Just no kids. Or teachers either, vampire or human.

  ‘Where have they all gone?’ I demanded. Maybe some vampire hunter staked them out on the way here…

  The driver climbed down the stairs and trundled over to the trailer. He untied the knots on the tarpaulin—and suddenly we saw them.

  Coffins.

  They made my skin crawl even though I’m pretty used to coffins, with Mrs Olsen keeping hers in the storeroom. There were some coffins with dark wood, some with pale wood and one that was painted with monkeys and elephants. Another was bright pink with silver sparkles. Actually that one looked really cool even if it WAS a coffin.