Mr Majeika and the School Trip

by Humphrey Carpenter

  They thanked the crocodile, clambered up on to the river bank and set off through the trees. In a few moments they heard a strange sound, half chanting, half singing.

  “It sounds like a football crowd,” said Jody. ‘They seem to be singing ‘We are the champions!’ ”

  “Yes, they do,” said Thomas, “and what’s more, the voices all sound like Hamish Bigmore.”

  Sure enough, when they came through the trees into a clearing, they found themselves facing a crowd of small people who all looked exactly like Hamish – except that they had painted themselves bright green from top to toe.

  “We are the champions!” they were shouting at the tops of their voices. “We are the champions!” They were dancing around a totem pole with a big, ugly face on it.

  “I didn’t know you had relatives in these parts, Hamish,” said Jody, laughing.

  But she stopped laughing a moment later. As soon as the bright-green Hamishes saw them, they rushed at them, shrieking wildly. In an instant, they had tied the four of them with ropes, though everyone, especially Hamish, struggled furiously.

  “Get off!” he shouted. “Don’t you see, I’m just like you? Tie up the others, they’re just stupid, but leave me alone.”

  It was no good. The ropes were bound tightly around him, and around Jody, Thomas and Pete, and they found themselves being carried by the green Hamishes towards the mouth of a cave in the hillside a short distance away.

  “I think they’re taking us into the Crooked Caves,” said Jody. “I’m not sure I want to go there after all.”

  It was very dark inside the cave mouth, but the green Hamishes carried them further and further in, so that soon they were being taken down a crooked, steep, narrow tunnel that ran through the rock.

  “We take you to Head Woman,” said one of the green men. “Head Woman eat you for her lunch.”

  “No she won’t!” shrieked Hamish. “Take us out of here at once! Fetch stupid old Mr Majeika – it’s all his fault.”

  The narrow passage opened out suddenly into a big underground cave that was lit by a strange green light. In the middle of it stood a giant cooking pot. Beneath it, logs of wood had been laid to make a fire, though it hadn’t yet been lit.

  “Oh dear,” said Thomas. “I’ve seen pictures of this happening. They put you in the pot, fill it up with water, and then they light the fire and cook you.”

  When he heard this, Hamish began to shriek even louder.

  Suddenly a voice said: “What’s the matter with my Star Pupil?”

  Jody groaned. “I know that voice,” she said. “It’s Wilhelmina Worlock.”

  Wilhelmina Worlock was a wicked witch, and she was always making a nuisance of herself to Class Three and Mr Majeika.

  “Tee-hee,” she said, coming into the cave and taking her seat on a high throne. The green Hamishes all bowed down before her and chanted, “Head Woman! Head Woman! Head Woman!”

  “Are you really going to eat us for lunch, Miss Worlock?” asked Jody.

  Wilhelmina scratched her hairy chin. “Perhaps not, dearie,” she said.

  “Oh, that’s a relief,” said Thomas.

  “I think I’ll wait and eat you for tea instead,” said Wilhelmina.

  “W-w-what about m-m-me?” stammered Hamish. “You wouldn’t eat your Star Pupil, would you?”

  Wilhelmina always called Hamish her Star Pupil because, unlike the rest of Class Three, he liked her and helped her in her plots against Mr Majeika.

  “I’ll keep you for breakfast,” Wilhelmina said to Hamish. “And then I’ll eat you on fried bread with ketchup. Tee-hee!”

  Hamish went pale. “W-w-why have you turned against me?” he asked, his teeth chattering. “W-w-what have I done to offend you?”

  “You’ve done nothing at all,” sneered Miss Worlock. “Star Pupil, indeed! You’ve never been the slightest use to me against that weasly wizard, Majeika. You’re utterly useless. But you might make quite a nice breakfast.”

  “And so might you, Wilhelmina Worlock,” said a voice. It was the crocodile, which had crept silently into her cave without anyone noticing, and had slunk up behind the witch.

  Wilhelmina turned and screamed in surprise – and then suddenly she vanished.

  The little green Hamishes gasped in astonishment. The crocodile turned on them with its jaws open, and in terror they all ran out of the cave, leaving Jody, Thomas, Pete and Hamish – still tied up with ropes – alone with the crocodile.

  “The next thing is to untie you all,” said the crocodile, and it used its long sharp teeth to cut through the ropes.

  “Thank you very much,” said Pete, as they all stood up. “But what’s happened to the witch?”

  “Wilhelmina?” said the crocodile. “Oh, I just put one of my spells on her.”

  “Spells?” said Jody. “I didn’t know crocodiles could do spells.”

  “Crocodiles?” said the crocodile. “Oh, sorry, I forgot I was still a crocodile.” And it changed into Mr Majeika.

  “So it was you all the time?” asked Thomas.

  “Yes,” said Mr Majeika. “I was worried about how Hamish might behave in the canoe. And I had a feeling that Wilhelmina Worlock might turn up. So I came along to keep an eye on you.”

  “And what has your spell done to Wilhelmina, Mr Majeika?” asked Jody.

  “Come outside and see”, said Mr Majeika.

  When they got out into the open air, the green Hamishes were dancing happily round their totem pole. The face on it was different now – it was the face of Wilhelmina Worlock.

  “You’ve turned her into a totem pole!” said Thomas. “That’s great – we’ll never be bothered by her again.”

  “I’m afraid we will,” said Mr Majeika. “The spell won’t last long. We’d better clear out before it wears off. Excuse me if I turn myself back into a crocodile for half an hour – it’s the easiest way to take you back.”

  “It would be even more fun if you turned us into crocodiles too, Mr Majeika,” suggested Jody “Then we could swim alongside you.”

  “But I can’t swim!” protested Hamish.

  “That’s all right, Hamish,” said Pete. “Mr Majeika can turn you into a rubber duck, and we’ll tie a string round your neck and pull you along with us.”

  “No!” shrieked Hamish.

  But that’s exactly what Mr Majeika did.

  2. St Barty’s For Sale

  One morning, Jody, Thomas and Pete arrived at school to see a very smart and expensive-looking car parked outside it. It had a gold-plated radiator and silver-plated bumpers. A chauffeur in a peaked cap was sitting in the driving seat. The number plate was BIG 1.

  “Wow! That must have cost a lot,” said Pete, looking at the car. “Thousands and thousands and thousands. I wonder who it belongs to.”

  “BIG 1,” said Thomas. “I wonder if it has anything to do with Hamish Bigmore. Look, there he is.”

  Hamish was standing proudly by it. “It’s the most posh and expensive car in the world,” he said. “And it belongs to my cousin, Beresford Bigmore.”

  “He must be very, very rich to afford a car like that,” said Jody.

  “Of course he is, stupid,” said Hamish. “He’s a multi-millionaire. In fact, he’s one of the richest people in the country.”

  “If he’s a relative of yours, I bet he’s a crook,” said Thomas.

  “He’s not!” shouted Hamish, kicking Thomas on the ankle. Thomas kicked him back, and a fight started.

  “Stop it, you two,” said Jody. “I want Hamish to tell us how his cousin, Beresford, makes his money.”

  “He’s a property developer,” said Hamish.

  “What’s a property developer?” asked Pete.

  “Don’t you know that, stupid?” said Hamish. “A property developer buys old buildings as cheap as he can. Then he knocks them down and puts up new houses there. Then he sells the houses and makes pots and pots and pots of money.”

  “I told you he was a crook,” said Thom
as. “That’s a nasty thing to do. Old buildings should be looked after, not knocked down.”

  “Rubbish!” shouted Hamish. “Anything old should be knocked down. And so should you.” He kicked Thomas again, so the fight started once more.

  It was broken up by Mr Majeika, who had just arrived at school. “Hamish, behave yourself,” he said, “and, Thomas, leave him alone.”

  Hamish ran off, sticking out his tongue at Thomas and Mr Majeika.

  “I wonder what his cousin, Beresford, is doing here,” said Jody, as they walked towards their classroom. “I don’t see why a millionaire who makes his money from knocking down old buildings should want to come to our school.”

  “Something nasty is bound to be going on if there’s a Bigmore around,” said Thomas. “You can bet on that.”

  “Look,” said Pete, as they passed the window of Mr Potter’s (the head teacher) office. “That must be Hamish’s cousin in there, talking to Mr Potter. He’s wearing a smart suit and smoking an enormous cigar, but he looks exactly like Hamish.”

  “I wish we knew what he was saying,” said Thomas.

  “So do I,” said Jody.

  “I’m sure you could hear them by magic, Mr Majeika, if you tried,” said Jody.

  “Yes, that’s possible,” said Mr Majeika. “I know just the spell for it. But I really shouldn’t use it. I’m not supposed to do magic at all. I know I don’t always keep that rule, but I do try to.”

  “Oh, please, Mr Majeika,” said Jody. “I’ve got a feeling that Beresford Bigmore is up to something nasty. And maybe you could stop him.”

  “Very well, just this once,” said Mr Majeika. He waved his hands at the window. Sure enough, suddenly they could hear the voices of Beresford Bigmore and Mr Potter.

  “I’m offering you a very nice deal, Mr Potter,” Beresford Bigmore was saying, as he puffed cigar smoke in Mr Potter’s face. “I’m offering you a lot of money for the school buildings. An enormous amount. I’m sure you could use it. And I’ve got some nice new buildings all ready for you to move into, just up the road.”

  “But, Mr Bigmore,” said Mr Potter, scratching his head, “we really don’t want to move to new school buildings. We’re very happy in these ones.”

  “But look how small these buildings are,” said Beresford Bigmore. “Look how old they are. The rain comes in and the windows are cracked. And you don’t have a playing field, only a tiny little playground.”

  “The children are very happy here,” said Mr Potter. “They like it very much.”

  “But I’m offering you ten thousand pounds, Mr Potter,” said Beresford Bigmore, puffing at his cigar. “Ten thousand pounds, and some very nice new buildings with a big playing field. Just think what the school could do with ten thousand pounds.”

  “That’s true,” said Mr Potter. “We could buy a new minibus for taking the children on expeditions.”

  “Sign here,” said Beresford Bigmore, taking a piece of paper from his pocket. “If you do, I’ll give you the money right away.”

  Mr Potter looked very unhappy, but he signed the piece of paper. Beresford Bigmore took out his cheque book.

  “Here’s a cheque for ten thousand,” he said, smiling broadly. “I’m sure you’ll all be happy in your new school buildings.”

  Outside in the playground, Jody said: “This is terrible, Mr Majeika. We don’t want to move to some horrid new buildings. Can’t you do something to stop it?”

  Mr Majeika shook his head. “I don’t think I can,” he said, “now that Mr Potter has signed and taken the money. And we don’t know for certain that Hamish’s cousin is up to something nasty.”

  “Of course he is,” said Thomas. “He’s behaving just like Hamish, so he must be.”

  Later that morning, during break, Mr Majeika came up to Jody, Thomas and Pete and said: “I’m sorry to say that Beresford Bigmore is a crook. Or at least he’s cheating Mr Potter and the school. Come and see.”

  He took them to a corner of the classroom where he had put a large empty glass jar on the table, upside down.

  “What’s that for, Mr Majeika?” asked Pete.

  “It’s a crystal ball,” said Mr Majeika. “Or at least, it works as one. Anything made of glass does, if you know the right spell.” He waved his hands over the jar and murmured some words. Suddenly, the jar grew cloudy and they could see a picture forming in it.

  “It’s showing us Beresford Bigmore in a smart office,” said Jody.

  “That’s right,” said Mr Majeika. “It’s his own office and he’s talking to his partner, Simon Sleeze. Listen.”

  In the jar, they could see the two men talking, and by putting their heads near to it, they could hear the voices.

  “Ten thousand pounds!” Beresford Bigmore was saying. “That old fool, Potter, let me have his school for only ten thousand pounds. Have you ever heard anything so silly. It’s worth about two million.”

  “Ridiculous,” laughed Simon Sleeze. “And what about those new school buildings you’ve promised him? Not much good, are they?”

  “Not much good?” cackled Beresford Bigmore. “They’re terrible, Simon, absolutely terrible.”

  “And now that we’re the owners of the old St Barty’s school buildings,” said Simon Sleeze, “we can knock them down and build houses there, and sell them for millions.”

  “Millions and millions and millions,” giggled Beresford Bigmore. “Oh, if only old Potter knew what a fool he’d been.”

  “This calls for a bottle of champagne!” laughed Simon Sleeze. “In fact, two or three bottles.” And he opened a cupboard and took out the champagne and two glasses.

  “You lying crooks,” shouted Thomas, though of course Beresford Bigmore and Simon Sleeze couldn’t hear him.

  “I think we’ve seen and heard enough,” said Mr Majeika. He waved his hands and the picture in the glass jar faded.

  “This is awful,” said Thomas. “What on earth are we going to do?”

  “We’re going to lose these buildings and go to the horrid new school,” said Pete, “and Hamish’s cousin and that horrid man are going to make millions out of it.”

  “Surely there’s something you can do, Mr Majeika?” asked Jody. “Can’t you think of a plan?”

  Mr Majeika sighed again and shook his head. “I really don’t think I can, Jody,” he said. “Not yet, anyway.”

  The new school buildings turned out to be even worse than Thomas, Pete and Jody had expected.

  For a start, they were about three miles away from the old St Barty’s, right on the edge of town. Most people in Class Three had always walked to school because they lived very near it. But now they all had to come by car or bus. It was too far to walk.

  On the day of the move to the new buildings, it was raining hard. Jody and the others waited at the bus stop, but half an hour went past, with the rain splashing down, and no bus came.

  “This is dreadful,” said Pete. “My coat is letting the water in and I’ve got rain in my shoes.”

  Just then, they saw Beresford Bigmore’s car, with its BIG 1 number plate, coming down the road.

  “Look, he’s giving Hamish a lift to school,” said Thomas. “Perhaps he’ll give us one too.”

  They all waved at the car, but when Hamish saw them he stuck out his tongue. The car whizzed past, its wheels splashing dirty water over them.

  They shouted angrily at the car, but it had gone. “Just wait till I get my hands on Hamish,” said Pete.

  “Me too,” said Thomas. “I’ll push him into the biggest and muddiest puddle I can find.”

  “Come on,” said Jody. “There’s no bus, so we’ll have to walk.”

  It took them nearly an hour to walk to school. When they arrived, soaking wet and very tired, they found that almost everyone else was late as well, so that lessons hadn’t started on time. Mr Potter was hurrying around, looking very gloomy and trying to organize things.

  “These school buildings aren’t new at all,” said Jody, looking around h
er. “They look almost as old as the other ones, and they’re far worse.”

  She was right. The main building was very small and most of the classrooms were outside, in old-looking huts.

  “It looks more like a prison camp than a school,” said Pete.

  The room that had been given to Class Three was the worst of all. Two of the windows were broken and the third was stuck open, so that the rain was blowing in through it. There were no proper desks or tables, just some folding chairs that were mostly broken. And there was no shelf for books and just a single light bulb, which didn’t give enough light for reading or writing.

  As usual when anything went wrong in Class Three, Melanie started to cry.

  “Boo-hoo!” she sobbed. “I want to go back to the old school.”

  “We all do,” said Thomas. “But Mr Potter has sold it to Hamish’s horrid cousin, and we’ll have to stay here for ever and ever.”

  “You’re talking rubbish,” grumbled Hamish. “It’s much nicer here than at the old school.” But everyone could see that he didn’t believe what he was saying.

  Mr Majeika did his best to teach Class Three, but they were all cold and wet and uncomfortable, and it was a relief when the bell went for school dinner.

  Everyone went into the school hall. At least, they tried to, but it was too small for everyone to fit in. So a queue formed in the passage.

  “I hope they manage to feed everyone quickly,” said Pete. “I’m starving.”

  “Me too,” said Thomas.

  But then Mr Potter came out of the hall into the passage and said: “I’m very sorry, everyone, but there’s nothing to eat. I’ve just heard that our dinner ladies have refused to come and work in these new buildings. They say it’s too far out of town. I’ll try and get something organized by tomorrow, but I’m afraid you’ll all have to go hungry – unless you’ve brought packed lunches.”

  Everyone groaned. And no one in Class Three had brought a packed lunch apart from Hamish Bigmore. He sat eating it in a corner of the classroom.