St Grizzle's School for Girls, Geeks and Tag-along Zombies

by Karen McCombie

  But here in the circle, I will concentrate hard and try and learn which Newt and Otter is which while the ball rolls back and forth and… Oh, Zed has suddenly remembered what to do with the ball and Dory is now rolling head-over-tail towards ME.

  “Um, I’m Dani Dexter…” I mumble as I catch it, then stop.

  What should I say for my interesting thing?

  That my mum is a zoologist working in the South Pole?

  Or that Granny Viv is wonderful and mad and ended up here at St Grizzle’s because she was SPYING on me, till Lulu caught her and ended up asking her to stay?

  Or should I say that I am really, really good at making mini-movies and helped the school win a short film competition last week?

  *Gulp*

  The last half hour I’ve been SO busy looking after strange little Boudicca that Arch went temporarily out of my mind. But mentioning mini-movies suddenly makes me picture his adorably goofy grin. A knot of worry tightens in my tummy and my eyes go all prickly. Before anyone notices them watering I blink, blink, blink and blurt out the first thing that comes into my mind.

  “…and I’m glad I’m not the new girl any more,” I say quickly, and deliberately roll the ball towards Boudicca.

  Boudicca, sitting cross-legged with her hands neatly in her lap, stares at the blue fishy ball as it gently rolls towards her … and carries ON staring as it rolls straight past her – into the waiting jaws of Downboy.

  Boudicca jerks when she sees him so close like he’s a giant dog-shaped flu bug.

  As for Downboy, he immediately thunders from the room with his prize.

  Out in the corridor, there’s a loud protesting “Meh!”, which I’m guessing means Twinkle has just spotted Downboy’s loot. A clatter of many claws and deep growls and Meh!-ing follows as a furry battle rages for possession of Dory…

  “Well, that was fun!” says Lulu, trying to sound positive, even though the getting-to-know-each-other session has been a big flop and lasted precisely one and a half minutes. “Er, shall we have lunch early?”

  At the mention of food, everyone cheers and jumps to their feet.

  Except Boudicca, who stays in her cross-legged position, watching silently as everyone files out.

  And except me, too, since my mobile has just vibrated in my pocket.

  Is it Arch??

  At LAST???

  So the e-mail that pinged through when I was in the hall earlier – it WASN’T from Arch like I’d hoped.

  It was from Mum, which was lovely, of course.

  (She sent through a text straight after her poem, saying it took her ages to write since she tried at first to find things to rhyme with “penguin” and “zoologist” and got totally stuck.)

  But the poem was ever so cute and made me go all kind of squishy inside. I’ve put my phone in the pocket on the front of my dungaree dress so that it feels like Mum is as near as can be to my heart.

  As for Arch? I want to talk to Granny Viv about the whole silence situation, and what might be going on with him, as she’s very good at giving advice. Though in the last few days since she and Downboy properly settled at St Grizzle’s it’s been really hard to get my gran on her own. Everyone loves her and wants to spend time with her, the teachers included. And she’s SO grateful to Lulu for employing her as the cook and housekeeper while I’m here that she’s given herself about five more jobs than Lulu ever asked her to do (personal assistant to Lulu, school counsellor, homework helper, bedtime storyteller, night-time tucker-inner). In fact, I’ve spoken to Granny Viv a whole lot less in the last week than I ever have before…

  And I can see she’s busy right now in the dining room, scraping and shooing kids away from the windows. I’ve lost count of the squashed noses, circles of steamy mouth-breath and greasy fingers that have been smearing the inside of the dining-room windows as everyone gawps out at us – or, more likely, gawps at the new girl.

  We’re sitting with Boudicca at the picnic table on the back lawn away from the mayhem. Lulu thought St Grizzle’s latest student might be feeling overwhelmed by the hectic muddle of school, goats, dogs and Newts so she invited me, Swan, Zed and Miss Amethyst to join her and Boudicca for lunch. But if Lulu thought being out here in the sunshine in our smaller group would make the new girl more relaxed and talkative, she was wrong. Boudicca is just cutting up her quiche and potato salad into teeny-weeny squares and picking at them like a little bird, while Lulu and Miss Amethyst struggle to make small talk. With every direct question, Boudicca nods or shakes her head or sometimes gives her bony shoulders a shrug.

  “Everything all right with your lunch?” (Nod)

  “Would you like some more?” (Shake)

  “Do you have any favourite foods?” (Shrug)

  Apart from her thoughts on lunch, Lulu and Miss Amethyst have tried asking Boudicca about her parents, her favourite school subjects, if she has any hobbies, interests or pets, but it’s been a bit like trying to make conversation with one of the woodlice the Otters and Conkers drew earlier.

  She was even stony-faced when Zed tried to entertain her with his juggling skills, using two cherry tomatoes and a new potato.

  “Right, I think it’s time for the Newts’ science lesson!” Miss Amethyst finally announces. “Come along, Boudicca. Follow me!”

  Wordlessly, Boudicca places her fork and knife neatly on the plate and follows Miss Amethyst towards the back door of the school, passing Granny Viv coming the opposite way.

  From behind, with her endlessly long hair and her spindly little legs, Boudicca looks like a mashup of a shaggy-haired Afghan hound and a sparrow. She makes my boxer-poodle cross Downboy look almost normal.

  “So –” says Swan, once Boudicca has disappeared from view – “why IS that girl so weird?”

  “Nothing wrong with being weird, Swan! All the best people are!” Granny Viv says brightly as she wanders towards us, her pillar-box red space buns looking especially glorious in the sunshine.

  “It’s not that she’s weird,” says Lulu, “I think it’s just that she’s been brought up in a solitary way.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  Me, Swan and Zed are supposed to be having our English lesson with Lulu right now but I’m quite happy to find out more about Boudicca first.

  “Well, Boudicca’s father is a famous conductor and her mother is a famous cello player,” explains Lulu. “And they go off and give concerts all over the world.”

  So far that sounds a lot like everyone else’s parents here – doing jobs that take them away for long chunks of time. May-Belle’s parents are famous American country-singers who tour all the time. Angel’s parents are big music Bollywood actors in India. Klara’s from Germany, and her mum and dad are super-brainy professors of something-or-other who get invited to lecture about whatever-it-is-they-know to lots of other clever people in lots of different countries…

  “Anyway, Boudicca’s been home-schooled by a tutor till now,” Lulu carries on. “So for months the only people she’d see were her tutor and the housekeeper.”

  Wow, sounds awful, I think to myself, feeling all-of-a-sudden sad and sorry for Boudicca. Back home I had Mum and Downboy, and Granny Viv and Arch, and all my classmates in my old school to chat with, laugh with, entertain and lick me. (Yes, that last one DOES refer to Downboy – though Arch did once lick my hand when I had it slapped over his mouth to stop him gabbing through an episode of Doctor Who. Yuck…)

  “Anyway,” says Lulu, “her parents have decided that now is the PERFECT time for her to become more socialized and have friends!”

  “Um … didn’t you also tell me that her tutor got a new job and her parents were desperate to find somewhere for her to go at short notice?” Granny Viv says to Lulu.

  “Er, yes, there was that, too,” Lulu admits, probably not too keen to dwell on the fact that St Grizzle’s was someone’s last resort.

  “Yeah, but Boudicca is incredibly quiet and serious,” says Zed. “Do you reckon she’s OK? It would b
e awful to think she’s unhappy and just hiding it really well…”

  “That’s very sweet of you to be concerned, Zed,” Lulu says, smiling at her son. “But Mr and Mrs Featherton-Snipe said Boudicca’s always been very happy in her own company. And THEY don’t seem to be very emotional people so I think perhaps they’ve brought up their daughter to be like that, too. They were all very matter-of-fact when they said goodbye to each other. There were no hugs or tears.”

  “Really?” says Granny Viv, sounding shocked at the idea of a farewell that didn’t involve cuddles and crying. She automatically reaches across the table for my hand and gives it a squashy I-love-you squeeze. I give her hand an I-love-you-too squeeze right back.

  “So Boudicca was home-schooled and isn’t very huggy but what ELSE do you know about her?” Swan carries on, pumping her mother for information.

  “Er … let’s see,” Lulu says thoughtfully, and begins to count Boudicca facts on her fingers. “Mrs Featherton-Snipe says she is very academic and loves to study and do homework … that she practises her violin for at least an hour a day … and she gives her hair a hundred brushstrokes in the morning and at bedtime.”

  “Hmm. Sounds like the girl needs to get some fun into that busy schedule,” grumbles Granny Viv.

  “Well, we’ll do our best to make sure that happens, won’t we?” Lulu says brightly. “And I’m sure she’ll soon relax and fit right in with the rest of the Newts…”

  I feel a wriggly niggle of doubt when Lulu says that. The Newts are lovely but they’re also completely loopy, like puppies that have been fed too much sherbet. How is a calm girl who’s used to her own company going to deal with being in a class and a dorm full of total bonkers-ness?

  “Oh, and I just remembered,” Lulu adds. “Mr Featherton-Snipe told me that their family don’t approve of sugar so we need to bear that in mind for the menus, Viv…”

  “TSK!” snorts Granny Viv as if that was quite the silliest thing she’d ever heard.

  “…and that her name is just Boudicca and is never to be shortened.”

  “HUMPH!” laughs Swan. “Pretty big name for such a small person when you think about it, isn’t it?”

  Uh-oh – as everyone chats, tsks and humphs, I suddenly spot something in the garden that shouldn’t be here. Or rather someone.

  Boudicca.

  She has been gone less than five minutes but here she is, padding across the lawn towards us, her big grey eyes staring.

  “Lulu…” I hiss, trying to alert my head teacher to the escaped student.

  Before Lulu gets a chance to turn round, Boudicca has slithered back down on to the bench beside Granny Viv and picked up one of our English study guides lying on the table.

  “Um, Boudicca,” says Lulu as Boudicca speedily flicks through the pages, her eyes scanning the text. “Shouldn’t you be back inside, in your science class?”

  “Yoo-hoo! Don’t worry!” Miss Amethyst suddenly calls out, wafting out of the back door of the school with a wave of her arms and a kerfuffled look on her face. “Boudicca is just a very clever girl and has finished her worksheet ALREADY!”

  “Already?” repeats Lulu. “What are the other Newts doing?”

  “Chewing their pencils and trying to understand Question 1,” answers Miss Amethyst.

  The two teachers exchange glances.

  We have one brainiac geek in the school already and that’s ten-year-old Yas, who likes to read SATS papers at bedtime for fun.

  But it looks like Yas MIGHT have a rival for the Super-Geek Brainiac of St Grizzle’s Award, if we actually had one!

  “Why don’t you come back to the classroom, Boudicca, and I’ll find something else for you to do,” Miss Amethyst says gently.

  Without a word, without a flicker of expression on her face, Boudicca closes the book and silently trots off once again after her teacher.

  “Do you think Miss Amethyst is going to struggle to find enough work for her?” Granny Viv mulls out loud.

  “Do you think Boudicca understands the concept of classes since she’s only ever been with a tutor?” Lulu adds to the mulling.

  “Do you think she’ll be back out here in another five minutes?” Zed wonders.

  “Do you think she’s a robot?” Swan asks, before blowing a thoughtful pink bubble of gum.

  You know, I think there’s a good chance Granny Viv, Lulu, Zed and Swan might ALL have a point.

  Blossom

  Elif

  Polly

  Rafaella

  Giselle

  Jessica

  Izzy

  Karima

  Olive

  Hana

  Ten names, scribbled messily with fat felt-tip pens on rectangles of cardboard.

  And all the cardboard rectangles dangle by loops of string round the necks of every Newt in the dorm.

  “LOOK!” says Blossom, “we’ve made name-necklaces for EVERYONE!”

  Sure enough the pyjama’d Newts have been very, very busy. They have not only tidied their room – possibly by sweeping all the socks and mess into the wardrobe – but they have tried to brush their hair, too, with varying degrees of success.

  And, of course, they have very thoughtfully made a giant name-necklace for every person in the whole school to wear. Three for members of staff are on a nearby bed – Toshio and Granny Viv’s get top marks for correct spelling, and Looloo is a good try, I guess. On the floor is one made out for Miss Amthist, while another is ready for Madmossle Fabinum.

  There’s even one each for Downboy and Twinkle. (Good luck with THOSE lasting more than five seconds without being eaten…)

  “And this one is for YOU!” says Blossom, taking a name-necklace out from behind her back that reads Dani Dexterer. Hey, close enough.

  A girl who is apparently Hana, according to HER name-necklace, stands on her tiptoes and reaches up to place a string over Swan’s head. Even upside down, Swan can see HER name-card reads Swarm (you have never seen such a huge eye-roll).

  “We haven’t done one for Boodoo... Boodicky yet,” stumbles Blossom, holding up a blank piece of card, “cos we didn’t know how to spell it.”

  “Here,” I say, taking the cardboard rectangle and a marker pen from her and writing out Boudicca’s name nice and neatly.

  The soon-to-be wearer of this latest name-necklace is at this moment downstairs in the kitchen. Granny Viv thought that all Boudicca might need to relax and feel at home here is…

  a) a hot chocolate

  b) a slice of home-made red velvet cake, and

  c) a cosy chat with a friendly grannyish person. (Though Granny Viv isn’t very grannyish – she likes punk music and driving madly painted camper vans for a start.)

  But knowing what we know about Boudicca so far, I think their get-together will be a lot less cosy and sugary than Granny Viv expects. Boudicca is probably sitting at the kitchen table right now sipping a glass of lukewarm water and staring silently at Granny Viv and her bright red hair…

  Anyway, while Boudicca is doing whatever she’s doing with Granny Viv, me and Swan are up here inspecting the dorm and giving the Newts a little pep talk about being on their best behaviour with Boudicca.

  “Remember, she isn’t used to other children,” I tell them. “So you have to be patient and kind, and not, er, TOO full-on.”

  “Full-on?” repeats Blossom, looking confused.

  “Dani means don’t act like the maniac goblins you really are,” Swan butts in, speaking more plainly. “Not till she gets used to you, at least.”

  Aw… Blossom and the other maniac goblins look a teeny bit hurt, which makes me feel bad. After all they’ve been very sweet from what I can make out. As well as attempting to tidy the dorm and their hair, and slaving away on the name-necklaces, the girls of Newts Class have also cleared the pirate den from the spare bed and laid a little bunch of dandelions on Boudicca’s pillow.

  “By the way, the flowers … that’s a lovely idea!” I say quickly, trying to make up for insu
lting the Newts.

  “I thought of that!” yelps Olive. (Wow, these name-necklaces really ARE useful.)

  At the same time I walk over to the bed and quickly brush away the beetle, daddy-long-legs and baby snail that I’ve just spotted escaping from the string-tied bouquet.

  “Well, here we are!” Granny Viv booms from the doorway as she gently nudges a silent Boudicca into the room.

  Granny Viv might be smiling but she shoots me a quick, sharp look that reads, “Nope, the home-made cake and granny chat did NOT work...”

  Knew it.

  “Doesn’t the dorm look great!” she carries on in a fake cheerful voice. “Oh, and what have you girls been up to? Are these name-cards? What a fantastic idea!”

  “They’re name-NECKLACES,” Blossom corrects Granny Viv as she presents her and Boudicca with their personalized gifts.

  Granny Viv looks delighted and puts hers on straight away.

  Boudicca looks confused, and stares at the bit of cardboard and string being held out to her.

  “Name-necklaces – excellent!” says Granny Viv, swiftly taking Boudicca’s and popping it over her head before any feelings can be hurt.

  OK, with capable Granny Viv here, it seems like a good time for me and Swan to sneak off, our work done.

  Cos while Granny Viv wrangles the Newts into bed – checking first that teeth are clean and pyjamas aren’t on backwards – it’s time to start our own wind-down. Though, of course, since we’re the oldest kids in school we don’t have to go to sleep for ages. We can just hang out in our dorm and chat or read or paint birds on walls or whatever. And tonight, my whatever is sending Mum a thank-you-for-your-South-Pole-poem email and grabbing Granny Viv for a chat once she’s done with tucking in the Newts, old and new.

  But first me and Swan go to our dorm and get changed into our PJs (tartan shortie ones for me, silky Chinese ones for Swan). Then it’s off to the girls’ loos along the corridor – past my snoring, stretched-out dog – for a tandem tooth-brushing session, which turns into a GROUP teeth-scrub-a-thon, since Angel (fuchsia nightie), Klara (unicorn-patterned PJs), May-Belle (oversized black T-shirt with skull ’n’ crossbones on it) and Yas (high-necked, white cotton nightdress) are already in there.