Ouch!

by Alan MacDonald

  Bertie sank back against the wall. Maybe if he just stayed here, he wouldn’t be missed and the swimming lesson would go ahead without him. Afterwards he could wet his hair under the tap and slip on to the coach.

  WHAM! The changing-room door flew open. Footsteps thudded down the corridor.

  “BERTIE! WHERE ARE YOU?” boomed Miss Boot. “Come out of there!”

  “I can’t!” moaned Bertie. “I haven’t got any trunks!”

  Miss Boot raised her eyes to heaven. Why did it always have to be Bertie?

  “Open this door!” she ordered.

  Bertie slid back the lock and peeped out, holding the towel round his waist.

  “Couldn’t I just sit and watch?” he pleaded.

  “Certainly not!” snapped Miss Boot. “You’ll just have to borrow some trunks.”

  “I’ve tried!” said Bertie. “No one’s got any.”

  “Then go to Reception and ask them to lend you a pair,” said Miss Boot. “And get a move on. Everyone’s waiting!”

  Bertie nodded and shuffled past Miss Boot. As he reached the door, he trod on his towel.

  “Bertie!” Miss Boot groaned and covered her eyes.

  CHAPTER 2

  Bertie stood in Reception. The woman behind the desk was talking on the phone.

  “Yes? Can I help you?” she said, putting it down at last.

  “Um … yes,” said Bertie, “I don’t have any swimming trunks.”

  “Oh dear!” said the woman. “Didn’t you bring them?”

  “I forgot,” said Bertie. “They’re probably at home – in my pants drawer.”

  “Well, you’re not allowed in the pool without a costume, it’s against the rules,” said the woman.

  “I know,” said Bertie. “But Miss Boot said you might have some swimming trunks I could borrow.”

  “I see,” sighed the woman. She looked at her coffee, which was getting cold. “Wait there,” she said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Bertie waited. It was embarrassing standing in the middle of Reception, wearing only a towel. A small girl over by the drinks machine was staring at him. Finally, the woman came back carrying a large green box, marked “Lost Property”. She put it down on the floor.

  “Here we are,” she said. “There’s not much, but take your pick.”

  Bertie peered inside. The box contained a pair of orange water wings, a swimming cap, a spotty bikini and a single pair of swimming trunks. Bertie fished them out. They were silver Speedos, hardly bigger than a paper tissue.

  “Is this all there is?” he gasped.

  The woman sniffed. “Looks like it.”

  “But haven’t you got anything else? Like normal swimming shorts?”

  The woman glared. “We’re not a shop!” she snapped. “Do you want them or not?”

  Bertie nodded miserably. He had no choice. He shuffled back to the changing room, holding the trunks as if they were riddled with fleas. Wait till his friends saw him! He was going to be the laughing stock of the whole class.

  He locked himself inside the cubicle and pulled on the silver trunks. They were so old that the elastic had gone, and no matter how tightly he tied them, they wouldn’t stay up! He looked down in horror. There was no way he could wear these.

  Someone thumped on the door. “BERTIE! HURRY UP!” thundered Miss Boot. “WE’RE WAITING FOR YOU!”

  Bertie groaned. He opened the cubicle door and slunk out.

  Miss Boot stared. “What on earth are those?” she said.

  “Swimming trunks,” wailed Bertie. “It’s all they had!”

  “Very well, they’ll have to do,” said Miss Boot. “Pull them up and let’s go.”

  The class were sitting by the side of the pool, with their feet in the water. Miss Crawl leaned against the rail, impatient to get started. She was a tall, thin woman who had once been Junior Backstroke Champion.

  Everyone looked round as Bertie appeared. He ducked behind Miss Boot, but it was too late. Know-All Nick had seen him.

  “HA HA! LOOK AT BERTIE!” he hooted.

  “Nice trunks, Bertie!” giggled Donna.

  “Are they your grandad’s?” screeched Trevor.

  Bertie glared at them and plodded over to join the end of the line.

  “Oh, Bertie,” sang Nick. “We can see your bottom!”

  Bertie went bright red and hitched up the saggy Speedos. This was terrible! How was he going to get through an entire swimming lesson without dying of embarrassment?

  CHAPTER 3

  Bertie clung to the side of the pool, shivering with cold. The lesson had only been going half an hour, but it felt like a lifetime. He had hardly dared leave the side for fear of losing his trunks.

  Know-All Nick zoomed past, splashing him in the face.

  “BERTIE!” bellowed a voice.

  Uh oh, Miss Boot had spotted him.

  “What are you doing?” she called. “Miss Crawl, why isn’t Bertie joining in?”

  “Good question,” said Miss Crawl. “Bertie, what do you think you’re doing?”

  “Nothing,” said Bertie.

  “Well, get away from the side. I said four lengths’ breaststroke!”

  “I can’t!” wailed Bertie.

  “Why not?”

  “My trunks keep falling down!”

  “No feeble excuses!” snapped Miss Crawl. “Get swimming!”

  Bertie groaned. He pushed off and swam after the rest of the class. ARGHH! The saggy Speedos were falling down again! He could feel them slipping towards his knees. He tried swimming with one hand while holding on to the stupid trunks with the other. It was hard work. He kept sinking and glugging great gulps of water.

  “Come on, Bertie, keep up!” shouted Darren, speeding past.

  At last he made it to the far end and hung on to the rail, gasping for breath. Know-All Nick climbed out by the steps. He hurried over to Miss Crawl, dripping wet.

  “Miss! OOOH! OOH! I need the toilet!” he whimpered.

  Miss Crawl scowled. “Can’t you hang on?”

  “No! I’ve got to goooo!” cried Nick, jiggling from foot to foot.

  “Oh, very well!” sighed Miss Crawl. “Hurry up!”

  Bertie watched Nick patter off towards the changing room. Suddenly, he was struck by an idea. It was so simple it was genius. But he’d have to move fast or it would be too late. Bertie swam to the steps and climbed out.

  “What now?” said Miss Crawl.

  “Miss! I need the toilet, Miss!” pleaded Bertie.

  “Not you as well? You’ll just have to wait till the lesson is over.”

  “But I can’t!” said Bertie, dancing up and down. “I have to go! NOW!”

  Miss Crawl sighed heavily. “Go on then. Make it quick!”

  Bertie pushed open the changing-room door. There was no one about. He stole over to the boys’ toilets. He could hear Know-All Nick humming to himself in one of the cubicles. Bertie tiptoed over. He got down on his hands and knees to peer under the door. There were Nick’s two white feet dangling in mid-air, with his red swimming trunks round his ankles.

  “Hmm hmm hmm!” Nick hummed to himself.

  Slowly, silently, Bertie reached his hand under the door.

  SNATCH!

  He grabbed the red swimming trunks and yanked them off.

  “ARGHHH!” cried Nick, overbalancing and falling off the toilet.

  “HEY! GIVE THEM BACK!” he howled. “THEY’RE MINE!”

  “Sorry, Nickerless!” replied Bertie. “I need them.”

  Nick banged on the door. “I’ll tell!” he yelled. “You give them back, Bertie, or I’ll tell!”

  There was no reply.

  Cautiously, Know-All Nick unlocked the door and came out. Bertie had vanished. All that remained was a soggy pair of Speedos lying on the floor.

  CHAPTER 4

  Back in the pool, Bertie joined the rest of the class.

  PEEP! Miss Crawl blew her whistle. “Everyone out! Line up by the side!”

&nbs
p; Eugene climbed out after Bertie. “Where did you get those trunks?” he asked, in surprise. “I thought yours were teeny-weeny.”

  Bertie grinned. “I’ll tell you later.”

  “Right,” said Miss Crawl. “I want you all to try the standing dive we did last week.”

  “Just a minute!” Miss Boot had been counting heads. “We’re missing someone,” she said. “Where is Nicholas?”

  Miss Crawl frowned. “He went to the toilet, but that was ages ago.”

  Miss Boot marched over to the boys’ changing room. She pounded on the door.

  THUMP! THUMP!

  “Nicholas? Are you in there?”

  No answer.

  “NICHOLAS! Come out!”

  “I CAN’T!” wailed a voice.

  “Nonsense! What’s the matter with you?” barked Miss Boot.

  “I haven’t got any trunks!”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, you were wearing them earlier. Come out this instant!”

  “Please don’t make me!” snivelled Nick.

  But Miss Boot was not a patient woman. “If you’re not out in ten seconds I shall come in and drag you out,” she warned.

  The door opened slowly and Know-All Nick shuffled out. He was covering himself with a small yellow towel.

  “Line up then!” ordered Miss Boot.

  “But Miss, Bertie’s––”

  “Line up, I said! You’re keeping everyone waiting!”

  Know-All Nick gulped. He drooped over to join the line and put down his towel. He was wearing the saggy silver Speedos.

  “HA HA!” hooted Bertie.

  “Hee hee! Nice trunks, Nick!” giggled Darren.

  “QUIET!” bawled Miss Crawl. “On my whistle, you will all dive in. Arms out, knees bent, heads down.”

  PEEP!

  SPLASH! SPLOOSH! The class flopped into the pool one by one. Bertie bobbed to the surface and wiped his eyes. Something was floating on top of the water. A pair of silver swimming trunks. Bertie fished them out and waved them in the air.

  “OH, NICKERLESS!” he cried. “DID YOU LOSE SOMETHING?”

  CHAPTER 1

  It was Tuesday morning. Miss Boot put away the register and took out a letter.

  “I have some good news for you,” she said. “In two weeks’ time it’s the Junior Quiz Challenge and we will be entering a team.”

  The class turned pale. Bertie groaned. Of all the horrible tortures teachers had invented, the worst was the Junior Quiz Challenge. Four children forced on to a stage and made to answer endless impossible questions: What is the capital of Belgium? How many minutes in a fortnight? Can you spell “ignoramus”?

  Every year Pudsley Junior entered a quiz team and every year they came bottom. Last time they’d scored a grand total of two and a half points – a record low in the history of the competition. A picture of the team had appeared in the Pudsley Post under the headline: “QUIZ FLOPS COME BOTTOM OF THE CLASS!”

  Miss Boot had been furious. Miss Skinner said they’d brought shame on the whole school.

  Bertie slid down in his chair. There was no way he wanted to be on the team. He’d rather dance down the high street dressed as a fairy. But wait a second, why did he need to worry? Miss Boot never picked him for anything.

  “Hands up,” said Miss Boot, “who’d like to be on the quiz team?”

  Only one hand went up. It belonged to Know-All Nick. Trust smarty-pants Nick to volunteer, thought Bertie.

  “Nicholas!” beamed Miss Boot. “Marvellous! I knew you would set an example.”

  Nick’s head swelled even larger than usual.

  “Who else? What about you, Donna?” asked Miss Boot.

  “Umm…” said Donna.

  “Excellent!” said Miss Boot. “And Eugene, I’m sure you’d be good!”

  “Er … ah … mmm,” mumbled Eugene.

  “Splendid! That’s three then,” said Miss Boot. “So we just need one more to complete the team.” Her gaze swept over the rows of faces. The class shrank back, desperate to avoid her eye. Darren raised his hand.

  “What about Bertie, Miss?” he asked.

  Bertie spun round. “Me? Are you mad?” He glared at Darren. Then he remembered. Yesterday he had put superglue on Darren’s chair and Darren had vowed to get his revenge.

  Miss Boot frowned. “I don’t think so,” she said. “We need bright, clever children and Bertie is … well, his talents lie in other areas.” This was true, thought Bertie. He was the class burping champion and he did a brilliant impression of Miss Boot.

  “But, Miss, Bertie is brilliant at quizzes,” claimed Darren, grinning at Bertie.

  “NO I’M NOT!” cried Bertie.

  “You are!” lied Darren. “You’ve always got your head in a quiz book.”

  “Thank you, Darren, I’ll bear that in mind,” said Miss Boot. She turned back to the class. “One more volunteer,” she said. “Who’d like to represent our school? Royston?”

  Royston shook his head.

  “Nisha?”

  Nisha hid behind Donna.

  “Kylie?”

  Kylie looked as if she might be sick.

  Miss Boot sighed heavily. “Very well then, Bertie, you’re on the team.”

  “But, Miss…!” moaned Bertie.

  “No need to thank me,” said Miss Boot. “Just remember, I am giving you a chance, Bertie. Last year’s team did not make their school proud. But this year will be different, because you will be prepared. And when the time comes, I expect you to win – is that clear?”

  The quiz team nodded their heads gloomily. Bertie glared at Darren. This was so unfair!

  CHAPTER 2

  DRRRRRING! The bell went for lunchtime. Bertie headed for the door.

  “Bertie!” called Know-All Nick. “Quiz team meeting!”

  Bertie rolled his eyes and flopped into a chair beside Eugene. Who wanted to be stuck inside listening to Nick, when you could be outside playing?

  “Now,” said Nick, “Miss Boot told me to choose a team captain. I think we all know who it should be.”

  “Who?” said Donna.

  “Well, me, obviously,” said Nick.

  “Why you?”

  “Because I’m the cleverest,” boasted Nick.

  “The ugliest, you mean,” muttered Bertie.

  Nick ignored him. “Practice sessions will be every lunchtime, starting today.”

  “Every lunchtime?” groaned Eugene. “How can we practise for a quiz?”

  “By answering test questions, of course,” said Nick. “Miss Boot lent me this.” He reached into his bag and brought out The Bumper Book of Quiz Fun.

  “Right, I’ll be quiz master,” he said.

  “And who’s testing you?” asked Donna.

  “No one, because I’m captain and I’ve got the book,” said Nick. “Anyway, I don’t need the practice. Bertie, you can go first because you’re the most stupid. Eugene, you time him. You’ve got one minute.”

  Eugene set the timer on his watch.

  “Donna, you keep the score. Ready?” said Nick, settling on a page in the book. “Go…! Hades was the god of what?”

  “Never heard of him,” said Bertie.

  “He’s a Greek god, stupid, like Zeus and Mars.”

  “Isn’t that a chocolate bar?” said Bertie.

  “What?”

  “Mars.”

  “Yes! No! I’m asking the questions!” snapped Nick, getting muddled.

  “Well, what’s the good of asking me stuff I don’t know?” grumbled Bertie. “Why don’t you try asking me something I do know?”

  Nick sighed. “Next question…”

  “Time’s up!” shouted Eugene.

  “And in that round, Bertie, you answered no questions and scored no points!” said Donna.

  Bertie took a bow. Eugene clapped.

  “Yes, very funny,” glowered Nick. “A fat lot of use you’re going to be.”

  After school, Bertie dropped in to see his gran. He told her all about the
Junior Quiz Challenge and Miss Boot picking him for the team.

  “That’s wonderful, Bertie!” said Gran.

  “No, it’s terrible,” said Bertie. “I’m rubbish at quizzes and Miss Boot expects us to win.”

  “Well, maybe you will,” said Gran.

  “We won’t!” Bertie moaned. “We come last every year!”

  Gran sighed. “Tell you what,” she said, “why don’t we call in at the library and find some books to help you.”

  Bertie couldn’t see how books were going to help, but he didn’t have any better ideas.

  At the library Gran took him upstairs to the Children’s Section.

  “So what kind of things do you like?” she asked.

  Bertie shrugged. “Loads of things,” he said. “Worms, slugs, maggots, stink-bombs…”

  “Hmm,” said Gran. “Somehow I doubt stink-bombs are going to help.”

  Bertie looked along the shelves – there was no way he could read this many books. He might as well face it – the quiz was going to be one big disaster. They would end up losing by a zillion points and Miss Boot would blame him as usual. He trawled through the books gloomily. Ancient Kings and Queens, Fun with Fossils, My First Book of Flowers…Wait a minute, what was this?

  “Gran!” called Bertie. “Can I get this one out?”

  “Of course!” said Gran. “What is it?”

  Bertie held up the cover so she could read it.

  CHAPTER 3

  For the next two weeks, the quiz team met to practise every lunchtime. Things did not improve. Nick grumbled that he was leading a team of idiots, even though Donna and Eugene were quite good. Sadly the same could not be said of Bertie. The one time he got an answer right, he ran round the room yelling with his T-shirt over his head.