by Nigel Smith
“I can’t do anything,” said Nat, getting her feet caught on the stirrups. She wriggled about, still trying to get on the saddle.
“Nonsense,” said Miss Hunny, pushing hard, “Darius says you’ve got ribbons and rosettes.”
“I won a donkey race when I was eight,” said Nat. “Does that count?”
“Oh,” said Miss Hunny, “maybe not. I think Darius might have been naughty. I suppose you should come down.”
But it was too late. With all the pushing, Nat was now on the horse.
But she was FACING BACKWARDS.
“There’s something wrong,” said Miss Hunny.
“Get me down! I’m high up and it’s scary,” shouted Nat.
Stan the horse bucked.
“Stoppit, bad horsey,” said Nat, automatically slapping its rear end.
Which was the worst thing to do.
With a huge whinny, the big grumpy horse took off with Nat facing the wrong way, bouncing like a sack of bouncy potatoes on a bouncy castle. Only less elegantly.
“Is she all right?” said Mr Rainbow, alarmed, as Stan raced off into a field.
“She likes doing tricks,” said Miss Hunny. “You might say it’s showing off, but our school supports its—”
“HEEELLLLPPPPPP!” shouted Nat.
“She just loves getting attention,” said Miss Hunny, advancing towards Darius, who took off like a rocket.
Meanwhile, Nat was clinging on for dear life as Stan, loving the freedom, raced through the fields, overtaking the line of ponies that had set out first.
The children riding cheered as Nat shot past.
Nat was clinging on to Stan’s tail. Her head was bouncing in and out of the black bushy thing. The horse reached a fence, turned back and headed for the yard.
“It smells like horse bum,” yelled Nat.
“Keep your mouth closed,” yelled Darius, as she flew past.
“Yuk!” yelled Nat. “I hate you, Bagley. I really do.”
“And I should bop you on the nose,” said Rufus, dodging out of the way of the wild horse.
“Bop off,” said Darius.
“Maybe later,” said Rufus. “Consider yourself warned.”
Darius ignored him.
“Hold tight,” shouted Mr Bungee, riding his horse to the rescue like a cowboy.
He caught up with Stan, grabbed the reins and brought him under control within seconds.
Gratefully, Nat slid off, legs trembling.
“If it was up to me,” shouted Mr Bungee, “I’d send you home right now. You could have got yourself hurt, messing about like that. You’re an embarrassment to your whole school.”
Shamefully, she trudged into the tack room to take off her riding kit.
A few seconds later, Darius popped his head around the door.
“Perfect,” he said.
Nat threw her hat at him.
Nat ignored Darius for the rest of the day.
At dinner she glared daggers at him. As he went past her in the dining hall, she casually stuck out her foot and sent him flying across the floor.
“You have to admit,” said Penny, over the sound of Darius clattering to a halt, “that you’re acting like you hate Darius ever so well. You could be in the next school play. I totally believe it.”
“Hmmm,” said Nat. “Thing is, I’m not just acting. Anyway, I dunno if he’s been doing this as part of his evil scheme or if he’s ACTUALLY getting me back for all the times I’ve, er—”
“Pinched him, punched him, made him eat grass, locked him in the loo, hidden his trunks at the swimming gala, called him chimpy, and set fire to his tie in chemistry? Just for a few examples?” said Penny.
“You’re getting on my nerves too,” snapped Nat, and stomped outside to have a think.
She sat on a log by herself, listening to the birds saying goodnight to each other and wishing she had a bird scarer because they were SO FLIPPING LOUD.
She began to wonder if she was QUITE such a good friend as she would have liked to be. She was a kind-hearted soul deep down.
I spend a lot of time thinking about making new friends, she thought, but I wonder if I should take a tiny bit more care of my old ones?
Then she felt a bit sick because she hadn’t got much of a project to show on Saturday because all her time had been taken up with schemes.
She was about to decide to be a better friend AND to work harder, but she forgot all about that because she saw a little car with a flower on the side pull up.
Inside it were MR KEANE AND SKY.
AND MR KEANE WAS LAUGHING!
Nat dodged behind the log, out of sight. She watched as they sat talking for ages. They were still there as the light faded and Nat reluctantly headed back to her yurt and sleeping bag.
“Remember our plan,” whispered Darius, as they walked into the classroom the next morning.
“To act like I hate you. How can I forget? I’m totally on my guard against you,” said Nat, just as Darius tripped her up.
“WAAH!” shouted Nat, as she careered into a big spinning globe.
“EEEK!” she yelled, as she was whizzed around it twice, picking up speed.
“NOOO!” she squeaked, as she was flung straight into the arms …
… of Rufus.
Who caught her easily. All the children cheered and some made slurpy, kissy-kissy noises.
Nat went a deeper shade of red than she had ever deep-redded before.
Which was a pretty deep red.
“You really are a rotter, Bagley,” said Rufus, releasing Nat.
Darius just shrugged and went into a cupboard.
“What IS he doing in there?” said the St Scrofula’s boy.
Nat shrugged. “No one likes to ask.”
It was Mr Keane’s turn again to present a lesson. Was it Nat’s imagination, or was he looking a bit less like a wretched hobo and more like a proper teacher?
“Has he had a shave?” she asked Penny.
“Dunno,” said Penny, “I’m still looking at his shirt. There’s no bean stains down it.”
“Good morning, young geographers,” said Mr Keane. “AND WHAT A GREAT MORNING IT IS.”
“Has he been drinking?” whispered Miss A to Miss E. “There’s something different about him.”
“I think he’s smiling,” said Miss Eyre. “That’s odd.”
“There’s a ridge of high pressure moving in overhead, which means warm sunny weather – that’s geography – and today we’ll be taking the B234 road going north-east – that’s more geography – to see the FUTURE OF THIS PLANET – and that’s MORE GEOGRAPHY THAN YOU CAN HANDLE!”
Mr Keane did a happy little dance and pressed a button on his phone. Princess Boo blared out. It was her classic hit:
“I’m so happy because I’m so happy. Get so happy too.”
“Take the morning off, gang,” said Mr Keane. “Meet me after lunch. Cancel your afternoon appointments, clear your schedules, we’re going TO THE MOON!”
Dr Nobel strode up to him and turned off the music. “I’m making a citizen’s arrest. Your teacher has gone mad. Call for the nurse.”
“Chill, Daddy-o,” said Mr Keane. “All I mean is, I’ve got us all an invite to THE MOON HOUSE.”
“What?” said Nat.
Penny shrugged.
Dr Nobel laughed. “Now I know you’ve flipped your lid!” he said. “No one can see the Moon House. It’s geography’s holy grail, a quest that’s impossible.”
“Wrong cue, ball head,” said Mr Keane, “and I’ll prove it to you. Everyone, meet me at the minibuses after lunch.” And he skipped out of the room.
There was a stunned silence.
Dad looked at Nat and made a twirly motion with his fingers next to his head.
As they trooped out, Nat found herself talking to Rufus.
“What’s happened to your teacher?” he said.
“I have a horrible feeling it’s cos he has to teach us,” said Nat, “and we’ve sent him r
ound the bend. It’s like those soldiers we read about that spend too long in a trench. One day, they’re fighting like normal; the next, they put their underpants on their head and say they’re the fairy from the top of the Christmas tree.”
“You’re really funny,” said Rufus. “Has anyone ever told you?”
“All the time,” said Dad, butting in. “Of course, she gets it from me. Rufus, I hope you’ll be taking one of my comedy-writing classes one day.” He paused. “Oh, actually, I’m only going to be running those for young offenders. Still, if you commit a terrible crime you can come for free.”
Nat fled from Dad’s burbling into the open air, dragging Penny with her.
“So, you and posho Rufus … What’s going on, girlfriend?” said Penny, in the way that Princess Boo spoke in every episode of her reality show, The Princess Boo Diaries.
“Nothing’s going on, and stop talking like that,” said Nat crossly.
“Don’t you mean, talk to the hand, the face isn’t listening?” said Penny.
“No, I mean, shuddup or I’ll force-feed you a cowpat,” said Nat. “Nothing is going on except for Darius’s evil plan. He has to pretend to be horrible and I have to pretend to like Rufus. Remember?”
Penny grinned. “That’s not an evil plan,” she teased. “Darius IS horrible, and you DO like Rufus.”
“If you insist on being ridiculous, I’m not conversing with you,” said Nat, walking away, nose in the air.
“You even sound like Rufus now,” said Penny.
Nat ran at her, ready for throttling.
“EEEK!” squealed Penny, taking flight.
Class 8H now had “project study time”.
Nat was aware that the kids from the rival school were huddled in a hot classroom, working hard on their project. She was happy enough that Darius would spoil it, so she reckoned she didn’t have to stress too much about what they were going to do as their project just yet.
Besides, it was a lovely day, and she was quite keen to join in a conversation that Julia Pryde, Peaches Bleary and Sally Bung were having about eyebrows.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a large white van arrive, and the St Scrofula’s teachers helped Mr Bungee take delivery of something in a huge wooden crate. But she soon forgot all about it because Peaches Bleary was asking their opinion on whether she should get her eyebrows waxed or threaded.
Nat saw Penny sketching something in her pad, off by herself. She wanted to invite her to join them but knew Penny wasn’t very good at girly talk, so left her alone. It’s kinder that way, thought Nat.
Everyone was buzzing at lunch.
One of two things was about to happen.
The children had found out what the Moon House was: the country’s only HOUSE IN AN ECO DOME. It had been built by a reclusive dot-com billionaire who had got fed up with the rotten world that had given him all those billions. Now he lived in a dome, surrounded by half the world’s plants and animal species. Usually he wouldn’t let anyone else have a peek, so going there would be AWESOME.
And if they weren’t doing that then it meant Mr Keane had finally gone crackers and they were about to see him carted off by the men in white coats. Which was ALSO AWESOME.
Either way, the kids were well happy.
They all assembled in the car park, waiting to see which option it was.
Some of the more evil-minded kids were disappointed when Mr Keane turned up looking cheerful and SANE.
A little car with a flower on the side screeched up. Sky waved from the window and told the driver to follow her.
On the minibus, Mr Keane bagsied a seat next to Nat.
“Hello, project leader,” said Mr Keane cheerfully.
Nat felt sick. She hadn’t been doing much project-leading – more ‘someone else’s project-destroying’.
“Today,” said Mr Keane, “is the day we’re going to come up with an idea for our project. Being at the eco dome should inspire us.”
“That’s nice,” said Nat, “but does it mean we have to do any work?”
“It’s not work if it’s something you love,” said Mr Keane. He grinned a broad smile. “We’re the first people to get an invite to Professor Paradise’s home, thanks to me and you. That’ll look pretty good in our project, right?”
“Am I going to have to, like, write about it?” said Nat.
Mr Keane ignored her. “I must thank your nan for introducing me to Sky. She’s totally AMAZING.”
Ew, thought Nat.
“Did you know she’s Professor Paradise’s god-daughter? She’s helped him collect some of his weirder specimens. Sky’s going to ask him to give us something really rare for our presentation on Saturday. How cool is that?”
Cool, thought Nat darkly. But my plan is cooler.
Mwah-ha-haaa.
Nat had to admit, the dome home was… AMAZING.
It was deep in a hidden, secret valley. It was so well hidden that only the most intrepid people would ever find it. Once the minibuses were parked, Sky led the children down steep stone paths that skirted an ugly quarry before …
There it was.
A great glass dome, surrounded by the most beautiful flowering plants and trees anyone had ever seen.
Everyone gasped, even the stuck-up St Scrofula’s teachers.
They entered through a sort of air lock, which opened automatically. Then they were all sprayed with something to kill bugs. Finally, they were allowed into an enormous, magical garden.
“Well done, Mr Bumolé,” said Mr Dewdrop to Dad, as they walked through the flowering loveliness. “I can’t believe Mr Keane organised this. Tell me, was it you really? Am I right?”
Dad then did that thing that drove Nat nuts: he was LOVELY. It drove her nuts because it made life very confusing – she never knew whether to be cross with him or to hug him.
“Nope,” said Dad, looking at the small figure of Mr Keane at the back of the group, “it’s genuinely all Mr Keane’s doing. He knows some amazing people.”
“Well done, Mr Keane,” said Flora Marling, which meant everyone else immediately chimed in to praise him. There was even a round of applause.
Mr Keane looked a bit surprised. “Well, I, er,” he said.
“Don’t be modest,” said Dad, “otherwise everyone might think you might be a rubbish geography teacher who hates everything to do with geography, teaching, children – and, indeed, life.”
“Well, I do like to inspire my children,” Mr Keane said.
Nat noticed Sky brush past him and give his hand a quick squeeze.
Ew, ew, EW, she thought.
She slid over to Dad. “What are you doing?” she said, out of Mr Keane’s earshot, “I thought you needed to get back in Mr Dewdrop’s good books? That was your chance.”
“I can’t take the credit for someone else’s idea. Besides, I think Mr Keane needs it more than me,” said Dad kindly, and Nat felt the familiar rush of warmth for him.
She tried to hold it back because it was usually followed by Dad doing something ESPECIALLY embarrassing, like kissing her in public, aaagh.
“You can almost believe in fairies in a place like this,” said Nat, as they walked to the Moon House through paradise.
“ALMOST?” said Penny, shaking her head.
“He’s got the smelliest plant in the world in here,” said Darius, as they wandered through the bright glade of the enchanted forest, towards the big, gleaming, glass dome. “It’s called a corpse flower.”
“Trust you to know that,” said Nat, who was entranced by the hundreds of tiny glittering insects being chased and eaten by the beautiful, delicate birds. “Oh look, even terrifying kill-or-be-killed nature looks pretty here.”
“It’s a big orchid that only sprouts once in a hundred years,” said Darius. “It kills most people who sniff it stone dead. Those who survive say it smells like rotting zombie fart.”
“Stop it with the zombies,” snapped Nat. “And try to look intelligent – we’re trying to help
Mr Keane look a bit less rubbish.”
“Thanks,” said Mr Keane, who had overheard.
“I didn’t know anything about this place,” sniffed Dr Nobel to Miss Slippy, as they bustled past, “and I know almost everything about geography.”
Nat was pleased to see Mr Bungee didn’t look happy either. “Obviously we’ve got better gardens in New Zealand,” he said, “but I have to admit, it’s not bad, not bad at all.”
“Welcome to the future of our Earth!” boomed a big voice.
Sky gave the man with the big voice a hug.
Professor Paradise was a huge man who resembled a tree, from his big twisty beard right down to his long, root-like, bare, brown toes.
The tree man looked nervously at all his guests, like he wasn’t sure what to say next.
“He’s not used to people,” Sky said.
“That’s fine,” muttered Miss Eyre. “Most of 8H aren’t people.”
Miss Austen chuckled.
I hope there’s some man-eating plants in here, thought Nat. I’ll feed you to them.
With some prompting from his god-daughter, Professor Paradise showed the visitors around the main features of his dome. There was water recycling and solar panels, hydroponics and other dull stuff.
“Got any crocodiles?” said Darius.
“They would upset the delicate balance of nature,” said the professor.
“If you’re worried about that, you shouldn’t have let Darius in,” joked Nat.
“I do have some interesting animals in here,” Professor Paradise said, leading them all to a huge wooden building near a lake.
A sign above the door said:
VIVARIUM
“We don’t do Latin,” sneered Julia Pryde. “Unlike some kids I know.”
“And aren’t you lucky?” muttered Plum, pushing past.
Well said, thought Nat, surprising herself.
Inside there were hundreds of glass tanks containing thousands of amazing reptiles and amphibians, all living in total luxury with their own favourite plants. The tanks were of all shapes and sizes, and there were countless rows of them, all lit with soft, solar-powered UV lights. The biggest tank even had a towering, full-sized tree in! The huge room was warm, and hummed quietly.
“Don’t touch,” said the professor. “These are my pride and joy – many collected by Sky here – and they’re some of the most endangered species on Earth.”
